The Iceberg Lounge was without a doubt Gotham's hottest nightclub. The average Saturday night saw hundreds of people flocking to the front doors, desperate to get inside. Some folks enjoyed just hanging out around the red carpeted entrance to catch a glimpse of some of Gotham's most famous and/or most infamous citizens.
Security rarely had a dull moment. There was always some ornery guest who needed to be bounced out, or a sad soul trying to make a break for the door to try to get inside, but they were always tackled to the ground. To be inside the Iceberg Lounge on Saturday night, sipping martini's, rubbing elbows with the elite, meant you were somebody in Gotham.
But that kind of action was still hours away. At one o'clock in the afternoon it was a very different site at the Iceberg. No red carpet was rolled out yet, no people were clamoring to get inside. The chairs in the dining room were turned upside down on tables, the kitchen was closed – unless the Penguin said it wasn't, the dance floor was being buffed and shined, and the bartender was taking inventory of bottles and watering them down appropriately.
Oswald Cobbelpot sat at a large black desk in his dim, windowless private office, not far from the VIP area. He was counting hundred dollar bills and puffing away at a cigar. A pair of canaries tweeted softly to each other in a large cage behind him to his left. He didn't really need to be counting the notes. He had a manager who handled the books and the day-to-day running of the club. It was just that counting large amounts of cash while listening to his birdies was how he prefered to relax. His bodyguard, Rhino, sat in a chair facing his boss. He picked at a piece of lint on his custom 6XL suit jacket.
A red light blinked on a computer monitor in front of Cobblepot and security camera footage took up the screen. He had the entire back office area rigged with motion sensors and cameras in case one day Jim Gordon and his goofs try to raid the joint. Today though, it was just a few familiar faces on the way.
"Pauly and Gill are coming in," Cobblepot said.
That was Rhino's que to stand up and get ready to answer the door. There was a knock a moment later. Rhino opened it just a crack and looked out. "He good?" Rhino said.
"As good as he's gonna get," Gill said from the other side.
Rhino opened the door and three men walked in. Pauly and Gill were your average wise guys working for Cobblepot. They wore dark suits and gold chain necklaces, their hair greased back. The third man was a thin, pale, red headed gentleman wearing a black bowler hat and a long tan trench coat. His name was Edward Nygma.
"You're one o'clock is here, mister Cobblepot," Pauly said. He was holding Nygma by the arm and forced him down into a chair opposite of the boss. "This was all he had on him." Pauly dropped a section of the day's Gotham Gazette on the desk.
Cobblepot started neatly stacking the cash in front of him. He did not look at Nygma as he spoke. "Why are you in front of me, Riddle-Man?"
"Ozzy, dear, what a pleasure!" the Riddler said. He stuck out his hand for a hand shake.
Gill put a hand on the back of Riddler's neck and squeezed. "It's Mister Cobblepot to you, loser."
Cobblepot just glared at him.
Riddler pulled his hand back. "Well, Mister Cobblepot, I have something you want. Information, specifically."
"Get to the point, Riddle-Man," Cobblepot said.
"Rupert Thorne. You're on the verge of quite the little street skirmish with him, are you not?"
"What of it?" Cobblepot's eyes bulged.
"Did you happen to see the news about the break-in at WayneTech laboratories last night?" Riddler said. He turned the newspaper around so Cobblepot could read it.
Cobblepot's eyes skimmed the third page article. "I said get to the point, Riddler-Man! I'm out of patience!" he said.
"Thorne is the one behind it," Riddler said. "I know what his men took and where they took it. And I have an idea what they're going to use it for." He pointed his finger at Cobblepot's face.
Cobblepot pushed the paper back at him, then he drew a black and red umbrella from underneath his desk. He pointed the tip of it right at Riddler's nose. "Do you know what this is, Nygma?" Cobblepot said.
"A way to stay reasonably dry when it's raining outside."
"It's also a 410 bore shotgun," Cobblepot said. "Now your little riddles and games may be cute for the Batman and Jim Gordon, but here the only games I've got time for are the ones that are fixed and make me a lot of money."
Gill picked up a tablet and propped it on the side of the desk. A video was cued up. Unfortunately, Riddler knew all too well what video it was. Gill's finger left a greasy print when he taped the Play button on the tablet's screen.
"And you know I got the hot and heavy dirt, Gotham! Just the way you like it!" Veronica Vreeland said. "I happened to get a hold of security footage from inside the Gotham National Bank where you can clearly see Batman kicking the mush out of this question mark guy. Question Mark Man? Riddle-Man? What do you think Gotham? Get it trending on the socials! And let's take a look at the glorious footage!"
Riddler's lips pursed and his eyes squinted as he was forced to watch this very humbling grainy black and white moment from a year ago. Batman delivered a one-two punch and a spinning kick right to the Riddler's face. The shots sent Riddler ass-over-teakettle.
"Wham! Pow! Biff!" Veronica cheered. " Holy crap, it gets me laughing every time!"
Cobblepot and his men all shared a chuckle. He laid the umbrella on the desk. "Rhino! Have you seen this video?"
"Oh yeah, boss. It's hysterical. What's with the leotard with the question marks all over it?" Rhino said. "Ya mommy make that for ya?"
Cobblepot and the boys all belly laughed. "I don't let him speak very often," Cobbelpot said. "But when I do, out comes pure gold. He's the funniest guy I know, Rhino is."
Riddler pulled his trench coat a little tighter around him. He was wearing the leotard under his coat. He liked it. He couldn't get the blood stain out of it, though, from when Batman broke his nose. But these prodding words from buffoons like these were mere flesh wounds that Riddler had been dealing with his whole life. He was immune to such bullying…mostly.
"You don't exactly have a glowing reputation in this town, Riddle-Man," Cobblepot said.
"It's the Riddler, buy the way," the Riddler said. His frustration was beginning to show.
"It's Mud as far as I'm concerned. Why should I care or believe anything you have to say?"
"You see, Penguin ," Riddler said.
Gill's hand slapped the back of Riddler's neck and the squeezing returned. Pauly gave a good smack to the head that nearly took his bowler hat off. Cobblebot's eyes shot daggers into Riddler.
"Apologies, Mister Cobblepot," Riddler said. "You see, we have a common enemy. The Batman. I've proven I can get close to him once, and I can do it again. What I'm doing here today is bartering with Gotham City's most valuable commodity: a knife to put in your enemy's back."
Penguin took a long drag of his cigar.
"What I propose is simple," Riddler continued. "I can tell you where those nifty goods that Thorne just stole are, and you can steal them from him. And all I ask for in return is a few men. Some muscle in my own plot to humiliate the Dark Knight. Man power. That's all I ask."
"And what if you're wrong, Riddle-Man, and it turns out they don't have them?"
"If I'm wrong, then I'm wrong. You kill me and everyone has another hearty laugh. You'll enjoy it." Riddler leaned a little closer in his seat toward Cobblepot. "But if I'm right then you finally put the nails in the coffin of that Don Corleone wannabe, Thorne, forever, and I'll keep Batman out of your top hat while you do it."
Cobblepot's eyes looked deep into the Riddler's. Riddler held his gaze back at Cobblepot. Cigar smoke hung in the air between them.
"So you're gonna give me a free shot at Thorne," Cobblepot said. "And all you want in return is a few men to help you get your ass kicked by the Batman?"
"What's a few men to spare?"
"Okay, fine," Cobblepot said. "What do you know, Riddle-Man?"
"Thorne's men stole experimental energy source prototypes. They're stored in a warehouse by the docs. I know exactly which one," Riddler said. He smiled and held his arms out as if he was a benevolent prophet who just gifted Cobblepot with a grand feast.
Cobblepot sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay. What is he planning on doing with them? Fence them? To whom? Furthermore, what am I gonna do with these – uh – experimental – uh – whatever they are?"
The Riddler let out a blurt laugh. He rushed a hand over his mouth to stifle it. Then he said, "Now that really is a riddle, isn't it? But wouldn't you like to be the one in control over these things before Thorne has a chance to do something against you with them?"
Cobbelpot leaned back in his chair and tapped his cigar over an ashtray. "What do you think, Rhino?"
"I think he's awful cute, Mister Cobblepot."
"Yeah, Yeah. He looks like your type," Cobblepot said. "You listen good, here, Riddle-Man. If you're putting me on, if this is some kind of trick, or you're otherwise wasting my time, you will become Rhino's new personal plaything. Am I clear?"
Riddler turned his head to Rhino. Rhino smiled wide at him.
"Crystal," Riddler said.
"Just out of morbid curiosity," Cobblepot said. He puffed again at his cigar. He exhaled the smoke across his desk. "What exactly is this plan for the Batman you have cooked up?"
Riddler smiled. "Well, I can't divulge all my secrets, you understand, but since you asked, it goes a little something like this…"
###
An Interview with Nora Fries
"Good evening, Gotham. I'm Summer Gleason, and this is Gotham on Top. Tonight we have a very special interview with one of the world's top scientists in the field of Cryogenics, Doctor Nora Fries. And Nora I would like to say an extra special thank you for being here and not canceling this interview. We've all seen the news that your particular research facility at WayneTech was broken into last night. I'm sure that must be a big headache."
"Thank you, Summer," Nora said. "And yes, headache is a bit of an understatement."
"So this is a unique situation. We asked to have you on the show a few weeks ago, very much prior to last night's incident, to talk about your work, but it's now my responsibility to ask, Doctor. Gotham on Top sources say that it was very valuable and potentially dangerous equipment that was stolen from your lab. What exactly was taken and do you know why or who is responsible?"
"I'm sorry, Summer, but as I told your producers, the WayneTech lawyers have asked me not to comment on the break-in."
"Sure," Summer said. "I originally invited you on because I think you and your team are doing some incredible work that's being overlooked. Cryogenics doesn't sound terribly exciting, but can you tell us about some of the goals of your recent work?"
Nora coughed into her hand. "Absolutely. We've been developing a new type of cold storage technology. A way for perishable food and medicine to be transported and stored in parts of the world that may not have access to proper refrigeration."
"I apologize, Doctor, I'm sure you've heard this before, but I can't help but point out the irony of your field and your last name, Fries. How does this new – um – Freeze Tech, if I may – work compared to regular refrigeration?
"Standard refrigeration requires refrigerant liquid, lots of electricity, and proper housing. This new technology – or Freeze Tech, I guess – is able to take just the air in the surrounding area and manipulate the particles on the molecular level to a cooled state. We can make the temperature of an area as low as 110 degrees below zero. We use a designer plasma energy source we developed to power it, and we can make the affected area as small as a square inch or as large as 200 square feet," Nora said. She coughed in her hand again. "I apologize, may I have some water?"
"Absolutely. Doug, some water please," Summer said. "Doctor are there any dangers this new technology presents?"
Nora's face twisted. "Danger?" she said. Her fingers tugged and twisted around a silver charm bracelet around her wrist. "No more danger than the average ice box presents. We developed this project as a way to aid sick or in-need people. It's not an ingredient for a bomb."
"What is the future of your Freeze Tech? Is there a greater potential than just refrigeration?"
"I certainly think so. Our research is still young, but I do believe that this design could one day be a way to dissect and treat diseases that we still don't have a lot of answers to."
"A cure for cancer, Doctor?" Summer said.
"Well, I wouldn't make any bold assumptions. There is still a lot of work to be done and hopefully more discoveries to be made. We're devoting much more time and effort into this project."
"That's a lot of nobel work. I, and thousands more, I'm sure, thank you. So much work must be a strain on you and your family, I'm sure."
"My husband is my partner in both work and life," Nora said. Her face visibly brightened at the mention of her husband. "My best friend, best scientist, and man of my dreams all rolled into one."
"Any kids?" Summer asked.
"Not yet. One day, though for sure. We both want a big family."
"Doctor, thank you so much for coming here and sharing what you do with the people of Gotham. We're all rooting for you and your generous work."
Nora coughed again. Hard this time. "Thank you for having me, Summer."