Chương 13: Chapter 13

Gordon's car pulled up to the curb outside of a bar called the Salty Fish. Gordon glanced outside his window as he looked over at the entrance of the dive bar. 'This is where Falcone said I could find him,' Gordon thought to himself as he turned off his car. The air was always stale in this part of downtown, old buildings still standing tall despite the people who owned them filled the street. The bar door squeaked open as he pulled on the handle and stepped in. The bar was half full and unkempt, glass bottles with a swig or two left in them littered empty tables still waiting to be wiped down and cleaned. The clientele of the bar was mostly people you try to avoid in Gotham, beer stained shirts and unwashed jeans seemed to be the fashion in this place. Although outside the air was stale it was much preferred compared to the mixture of piss, old beer, and vomit that lingered in this joint. Gordon looked over the people sitting in the booths and on the barstools looking for the man he drove out of his way to see. Gordon calmly made his way over to the bartender as about half the eyes in the bar followed his every move. "I'm looking for a man named Penguin," Gordon said to the bartender.

The bar quieted down as the barkeep looked up at the man that asked the question in the eye as he continued to wipe down the glass mug he was holding. "Who's asking," the bartender questioned, as he narrowed his eyes to who he was sure was a cop standing in front of him. "Detective Gordon and I'm not looking for trouble, just an answer to a question" Gordon replied, choosing his words carefully. The bartender set down the mug he was wiping and walked down the bar and through a door. Gordon unsure of what to do climbed onto a barstool as he waited for the man to return. The noise in the bar slowly started to fill in the quiet that was created moments ago. A few minutes later the bartender came in through the door he left and walked back behind the bar where he picked up the same mug he was cleaning before. "He's out back in the alley, through there," the bartender said nodding to the door he entered and exited a few minutes ago as he picked up a cloth and began cleaning the mug. Gordon slowly and carefully got up from the barstool as now all the eyes in the bar were on him as he walked over to the door.

He entered through the door into an empty unused kitchen, as he peered around wondering where to go next he spotted a door hidden on the other side of an old rusty refrigerator. As he got closer to the door he heard muffled laughter outside the door that led to the alley. The stale air almost seemed refreshing as Gordon stepped into the dirty, trash filled alley. A whimpering man was laying on the grimy alley floor surrounded by harden criminals, one man wearing a black tailed dinner jacket had his back facing Gordon and was digging his foot into the leg of the whimpering man.

"Ah detective, you came to see little old me, what a scream." The Penguin said lifting his foot as he pounded into the wounded leg of the man lying before him, causing the man to whimper loudly in pain. "I said, what a scream," Penguin emphasized as he dug the heel of his shoe into the man's wound causing him to scream in pain. "Toby, the best bartender the Salted Fish has ever had said you wanted to ask me a question. Well, I'll answer one of yours in you answer one of mine." Penguin mused as he continued to dig his heal into the screaming man's wound. "Mr. Penguin" Gordon started, "You hear that boys, he called me mister," Penguin jeered as he straightened his dinner jacket like a gentleman as the chuckling of his associates echoed off the alley's walls. Penguin lifted his foot off the screaming man as he turned around to face Gordon for the first time, he walked towards Gordon with a distinct limp that caused him to slightly sway side to side as he spoke.

"You know I hated when people called me Penguin, I detested the way that name picked at the way I walk. That name was a way for them to hold power over me, diminish who I was and what I accomplished, but power is such a fickle mistress. I still remember and will until my last breath, it was the most beautiful sound in the world. Their screams, 'run its Penguin,' the way their voices rose to higher octaves with each word that was screamed as they scrambled and ran from me in fear." Penguin recited, each word becoming quieter than the last until it was only louder than his footsteps, he finally stood in front of Gordon and whispered. "Their beautiful screams gave me the most delightful epiphany, my name was no longer uttered in contempt, but it was quietly murmured in hush tones because they feared who I was. My name became powerful because it holds power over the people that fear it, and how could I hate something that gives me such power. Power, it's seductive, addicting, enthralling to a person like me who was born with so little of it. Now that I have it, it's the most precious thing in the world to me and I would do anything to keep it.

"You wanted to ask me a question? Gordon countered tiredly as the activities of the day were catching up to him. "Patience little detective. You walk out here and see me doing my," Penguin turns his head over his shoulder looking at the man bleeding out on the ground of the alley, "business, and you didn't even draw your weapon." Penguin noted as he gestured to Gordon's hip where his gun was holstered, "Do you hate your gun Mr. Gordon? An item so small it fits in the palm of your hand, yet whoever you point it at, that same small item holds the power over their life and death. Can you truly hate something that gives you so much power?"

"No, I don't." Gordon answered, as silence filled the alley. "Well, I certainly expected a little more words in your answer, but we can't have it all," muttered Penguin as he shrugged his shoulders. "Now fair is fair, what's your one question?" Penguin announced in a relaxed manner acting without a care in the world. "I was told that you had a gambler awhile back who played poker at one of your games that went by the name of Victor Zasasz, do you know who he is, and where I can find him?" Gordon asked, "ah ah ahh, that's two different questions, I only told you I would answer one." Penguin sung in a cheery sing-song voice. Gordon glared at the man standing before him as he gritted his teeth and asked, "Do you know where Victor Zasasz is?" Penguin smirked and looked him dead in the eye, "no I don't."

Gordon's shoulders slumped as he thought about what he was going to have to do for Carmine Falcone just so that he could meet Penguin. A man that he thought had the answers he needed, only to find out he was just back to where he started. He turned around and began walking to the door to head back into the bar so that he could start his drive home. His hand touched the doorknob and began to turn when Penguin started to speak. "One more thing detective," Penguin stated starring at the back of Detective Gordon, "why didn't you draw your gun when you saw what was happening back here?" Penguin asked weighing the worth of the detective in his mind. Without turning around Gordon responded, "You didn't ask me to wait inside until you were done, you wanted me to see this, to see how much power you have. Not many people are stupid enough to kill a Gotham detective for no reason, you don't strike me as someone stupid."

"Yes that's true enough, I'm certainly not stupid. If I was you, I would start your search for the man you are looking for at the Harbor District, no promises he's there. Now off you go, I have some more business I need to take care of here, sorry I won't be able to see you off." Penguin said as turned around and walked towards the barely alive man on the ground.