DISCLAIMER – I own no rights whatsoever to Batman or to Sherlock Holmes. Period. Thank you.
A/N - I know I already apologized for the lull between updates at the beginning of the last chapter, but I want you all to know that this project wasn't completely off my mind between updates. Over the past couple of months, I've read "The Forensic Files of Batman" by Doug Moench, "Batman: The Long Halloween" by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, and "Batman: As the Crow Flies" by Judd Winick, Dustin Nyguen, and Richard Friend. I've also given "Batman Begins" yet another viewing and watched some episodes of "Batman: The Animated Series" that my younger brother was generous enough to provide on DVD. On top of all that, I've taken a Criminal Justice class and a few writing courses.
All of that for you guys. Well, O.K. Actually, that stuff was for my enjoyment. But you can benefit from it, too.
This particular story is unique, as you know by this point, because more of Batman's world has entered Sherlock Holmes'. While telling the story of a young Bruce Wayne who has not yet become Batman, I couldn't resist the idea of telling the story of a villain that had not yet become a villain. After all, Batman's rogue gallery is, in my opinion, more impressive than that of any other super hero (with the possible exception of Spider-Man.)
My first choice of villain was Oswald "The Penguin" Cobblepot. Why? Because he, out of all of Batman's enemies, happens to be my sentimental favorite. I think the thing that's the most captivating about the character is actually he's the most sophisticated among the rogues. He's always sharply dressed, always in style, and he always has it totally together. Unlike the other villains who are frightening mainly due to their depraved psyches, Cobblepot is actually pretty sane. And the irony, the brilliant irony of it all, is that he is physically the most repulsive of the villains, despite being the most sophisticated. And, while other villains might have a freak accident to blame for their deformities, Cobblepot was the unfortunate victim of birth-related defects.
And although he was born ugly, I see no reason to believe he was born evil. At least, no more so than any other man. And there is no doubt that Cobblepot, looking the way he did, would be tortured by children, being so cruel.
Jeph followed Ozzie out to the schoolyard and immediately began to look for a hiding spot. The bullies would be coming after them soon. All the two friends wanted to do was survive until break time was over.
Jeph shivered in the winter cold. Ozzie, on the other hand, had said many times before that cold temperature didn't bother him. In fact, he liked it.
Ozzie was surprised to see the Headmistress walking alongside a stranger.
"Thank you again, Mr. Wayne," said the Headmistress. "You have no idea what this donation will mean to our academy."
"Well, I haven't made it yet. I'd like to get a good look at this place, first. Make sure this really is a worthy cause."
Holmes had been right. Bruce's resources did come in handy. All it took was a quick call to Alfred, who agreed to arrange for a large portion of the inheritance he had received from Dr. and Mrs. Wayne to be handed over to Hoshmeir Academy.
Bruce stopped in his tracks. He asked the Headmistress to excuse him and walked over towards a boy with a flesh-colored beak.
"Hey, you!"
"Me?"
"What's your name?"
"Oswald C. Cobblepot, sir. But my friends call me Ozzie."
"I'm Bruce Wayne. We met the other night."
"No, sir. I'm sure I'd remember that."
"We did. You picked my pocket."
"What a terrible thing to say, sir! I would do no such thing."
"You little liar!" snarled Bruce. "You took money from me. I want to talk to…"
The boy swung his umbrella hard at Bruce's gut and ran. Bruce looked up and was about to swear when he saw Ozzie and his friend being pushed from boy to boy in a circle, a few pretty young girls watching in interest.
Bruce started to walk over and then stopped. What could he do? These were kids. Even though they were only a few years younger than he was, he was now an adult. He had crossed a line. He wasn't going to fight a bunch of kids.
Bruce just sighed and walked away.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Meanwhile, Sherlock Holmes sat in a tent across from a man in a wheelchair, sipping a hot cup of tea. He set it down and took a hard look at his companion.
"May I…?" he began.
"Go right ahead," said BirdMan. "Everyone else does."
Holmes set his cup down and rose to his feet. He then ran his hands over the stubs Jorgenson had in place of arms and legs.
"Satisfied?"
"Forgive me," said Holmes. "But I had to be certain for myself."
"I get that all the time," said Jorgenson. "Am I really a suspect in a crime?"
"The police think so," said Holmes. "You must admit, it seems a little convenient that these crimes should start upon your arrival in this area. Especially considering you provide your own birds."
"Of course," said Jorgenson. "They're specially trained. Even if I could find wild birds in this climate, my calls wouldn't be nearly as effective."
"Are the birds difficult to train and care for?"
"Not at all. Any seasoned bird lover with the correct resources can train the animals. It just takes a little love and care. And creating a shelter that resembles the South isn't hard."
"You do all of this on your own?"
"Of course not. I can do nothing on my own. Not since my accident. I can't eat, move, bathe, even use the toilet like a regular man. For everything I do, I require assistance."
Just then an extremely curvaceous woman with sparkling eyes and fire engine red hair, wearing a tight, bright red dress, entered. Holmes rose to his feet and tugged at his collar. Even his judgment could be slightly biased in the presence of an attractive redhead.
"This is my lovely assistant, Cady," said Jorgenson.
"I thought your lovely assistant's name was Wanda," said Holmes. "And that she was a brunette."
"That's his other assistant," said Cady with a smile and a giggle that made it clear she was much, much too young for him. She held out her hand and Holmes kissed it.
"I use two assistants," said Jorgenson. "This way, one can take care of me while the other has time for herself. They alternate shows."
"All of the shows Gregson saw must have involved Wanda," said Holmes, stroking his long chin. "This changes things."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Ozzie stepped through the broken wall of the abandoned warehouse and found Jeph already waiting for him. This was their secret hideout. A place for just the two of them.
Ozzie and Jeph were two friends who, if it weren't for each other, would be loners. Both knew what it was like to fail to find acceptance. Before Ozzie had arrived at Hoshmeir, Jeph had been the preyed-upon freak. He was thin and wiry, with ears that were too big and small eyes that were dwarfed even further by the lenses of coke-bottle glasses. Jeph also was an asthmatic, and, the thing that made him more hated that any other, a science geek.
Ozzie was a freak with a misshapen nose and webbed fingers. Everybody ridiculed him, with the exception of Jeph, who already knew what it was like to be the victim of ridicule, never at the other end. It was only natural that the school's two biggest rejects become a duo. And this was their secret clubhouse, the only place in the world where they were more popular than anyone else.
The wall behind Jeph was lined with different umbrellas. Ozzie had been tempted many times to go somewhere without one, but he always felt that would give his mother the excuse she needed not to love him. At least carrying around different umbrellas on different occasions was cooler than carrying the same old umbrella all the time, at least in Ozzie and Jeph's eyes. And Jeph, the science geek, had found a way to make them even cooler.
He had wanted some everyday objects he could experiment with modifying, and his best friend Ozzie had been happy to supply him with umbrellas. Jeph made them into machines. Not complicated machines. Just umbrellas that launched fireworks and umbrellas that fired blank bullets and umbrellas that doubled as squirt guns.
Jeph was already feeding the birds.
"Do you really think they'll make it?" asked Jeph.
"They've got a better chance here with us than if we'd just let them go," said Ozzie. "Hey! Be gentle!"
He carefully plucked the tiny bird out of Jeph's hand.
"Love and care. That's the only way they'll make it," said Ozzie. "They could barely even fly when we found them. They'd never have made it south in time."
He carefully put the bird back in its insulated shelter and pulled a large veil back to cover the bird abode.
Jeph sat down, and Ozzie sat down beside him. Ozzie pulled his notebook out from its hiding place. He then turned to his latest sketch and began to add to it.
"It's so damn hard to hold a pen with these fingers," he whined.
"What are you working on?" asked Jeph, like he had so many times before. Ozzie just held the notebook to his chest. Jeph leaned forward and Ozzie pushed him back.
"What's that?" asked Jeph suddenly.
Ozzie heard the unmistakable sound of wooden boards creeking. He and Jeph scrambled to the safety of a pile of crates, which they hid in the midst of.
Two men with fedoras entered. They were holding guns. Jeph began to breathe heavily.
"Jeph, don't!" whispered Ozzie. "Calm down."
One of the men began to look around corners and poke objects with his gun. Jeph began to breath heavier and faster. Ozzie spread the webbing between his fingers and covered Jeph's mouth. Jeph began to squirm panicked.
The man joined the other, and they both bent down and pried a board off of the floor. The man then grabbed a sack that had been next to his feet and dumped the contents into the ground. The other did the same. Then both men turned and left.
Ozzie kept covering Jeph's mouth until he was sure that the men were gone. He then left his hiding place, leaving a blue-faced Jeph to collapse to the ground and wheeze.
Ozzie's eyes lit up as he removed several loose boards only inches away from where he and Jeph often sat.
"Jeph, we're rich," said Ozzie. "We've found a hidden treasure."
Jeph crawled over, breathing into a paper bag.
"Oh, Jeph, I'm sorry."
Jeph just shook his head. He looked down at the green bills and gold coins.
"Everything we've always wanted," said Ozzie. "Just for us. No one else has to know."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"She's a very attractive woman," said Holmes, looking at a picture of Cady in a not-so-modest bathing suit. Harold Riley took the picture from Holmes and set it back in its place. "How did you two meet?"
"Went to see the carnival when it came around a couple of years," said Harold. "Went to laugh at the freaks, and fell in love with an extraordinary exhibitionist. She writes me while traveling, and we see each other every time she's in town. What's it to you?"
"I'm just taking care of some formalities," said Holmes. "I'm assisting the police in a criminal investigation, and Cady has named you as her alibi during two of the crimes. I'd just like you to confirm the facts."
"Yeah," said Harold, after Holmes had given him the nights of the crimes. "She was here both of those times."
"What did the two of you do?"
"We stayed up late and had dinner," said Harold. "Had some laughs. She'd always be exhausted the next day."
"How do you know that?" asked Holmes. Harold became flustered, causing Holmes to turn a little red himself.
"What did you have for dinner?" he asked.
"Both nights?"
"Just the most recent, really."
"Can't remember."
"For two sweethearts who hardly ever see each other, I would imagine it was something special."
"I can't remember, okay? Would you, after… eh…?"
Holmes took another look at the photograph.
"No," he said. "I don't suppose I would."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Another day at Hoshmeir Academy. Ozzie felt like he could fly.
Today was going to be another painful day in the schoolyard until Ozzie saw Hayley Comely talking to a distinguished couple. He suddenly felt drawn to be with these people.
The man kissed Hayley on the cheek.
"We're so proud of you, precious," said the woman.
Ozzie gathered up all of the courage he could muster and choked out, "Hi, Hayley."
Hayley turned and gave Ozzie the disapproving look she usually did. The man and woman looked Ozzie up and down, unsure of what to say. After a few confused utterances, the woman finally said, "Hayley, dear, who's your friend?"
"Oh," said Hayley. "This is Oswald."
"Pleased to meet your acquaintance," said Ozzie excitedly. He held out his hand, then looked at it. He became embarrassed and quickly retracted his outstretched hand.
"You seem like a very nice young man," said Mrs. Comely.
"He is," Hayley agreed. She kissed her mother and father.
"Thank you again for coming to see me," she said.
"We had to be there when you received your award," said Mr. Comely. "We're so very proud of you. Good bye, precious." He kissed her again. "Good bye, Oswald."
Ozzie thought his heart would escape his chest. Hayley's mother had called him Hayley's friend. And, best of all, Hayley hadn't denied it! Maybe she did like him, after all.
And her parents seemed so nice! They already knew his name. They accepted him. Ozzie decided he liked his future in-laws.
A few minutes later, Ozzie's hopes deflated. He had wandered away from his beloved for just a moment. He then saw her talking to another man in an expensive suit, this one not much older than him. Even from a distance, Ozzie could tell Hayley was blushing and squirming. When he came closer, he could hear her giggling.
As the man walked away from Hayley, Ozzie recognized him as the man who had been to the school the day before.
"What are you doing back here?" Ozzie demanded.
"I was delivering a donation to the school," said Bruce. "I presented the check during the awards assembly."
"My class wasn't part of that assembly," Ozzie said. He felt more than a tinge of jealousy. He wanted to hit this man. Hit him hard.
"Oswald, I want to talk to you…," said Bruce. Ozzie just snarled and began to walk away.
Suddenly, Bruce reached out his hand and grabbed Ozzie's right wrist. Ozzie began to squawk like a parrot.
"What are you doing?" Ozzie demanded.
"Do you wear the same uniform every day?" asked Bruce.
"Yes," said Ozzie. "We're required to wash it each night. How is that your concern?"
Bruce let go.
"I'm sorry."
"You should be."
A/N – Don't worry. That's not the end. This story is simply too epic to be contained in only two chapters. Therefore, for the first, and possibly only, time, there will be a third chapter to this adventure.