Interlude 5

Ignatius Ogilvy watched the mayor leave in ill-disguised discomfort. Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown? The concept had always been so hard for him to grasp.

His father was a quiet, reliable sort of man. He never took risks and he never made waves and where did it get him? Shot down like a dog in the streets, his long association with the Penguin only barely amounting to some men providing a few more faces at the funeral. Penguin hadn't even bothered to come himself.

Ignatius had sworn then and there that he would never be a nothing foot-note in somebody else's story. Whatever it took.

He'd joined Penguin's organization at a young age, running errands and messages. It tickled Cobblepot when his employee's children came into the fold. Family, loyalty, he was happy to use those words when they benefited him. So he was happy to take in the wayward orphan of his old henchman, so certain the boy would be loyal to his new family and maybe amount to something like his old man.

But Ignatius Ogilvy wasn't an ordinary man. He was the opposite, he was extraordinary. When he wasn't working, he was studying, training, striving to master his environment as his father never could. He saw more, understood more, and the jobs he worked on did better than others.

Twice, he had faced down Gotham's own legend, the Batman. Once as a frightened child, and once as a violent young man. He scratched idly at the three scars on his arm in memory. Those throwing bats really hurt. But he had emerged from both occasions, and unlike others, the night held no terrors for him.

He again contemplated the mayor, Bookworm. Now there was an unusual fellow. Seemingly all the power in the world, but haphazard, random in his use of it. Ogilvy had imagined- who hadn't?- what he might do with the power to make things from books real and when he compared it to what Bookworm did... well he was disappointed.

Was everyone but him simply an idiot?

But Ignatius looked deeper, he imagined there must be limitations to the man's power that weren't apparent. Perhaps they grew stronger or weaker over time, his battles with Superman and the Justice League would seem to support this. He wondered, too, sometimes if it might not have been easier to get close to Bookworm, master the secrets of his power, manipulate him. But no, proven and reliable power was superior to ephemeral promises. How could Ogilvy trust any magic that didn't come from himself?

Cobblepot was the better choice of master. Inclined already to like and trust him, attending the Penguin offered a master class in running criminal organizations, while still proving amenable to persuasion, at least by those who understood how he thought.

Who knew if the mad book wizard had any supernatural precautions against betrayal? Penguin had only time and trust, and one day, when he had dispensed his final lessons and secrets, it would cost him dearly. For now, he remained the reliable, discreet assistant, and nothing escaped his notice.

Speaking of, a man near the door made a particular handsignal. An informant had come, and been sent around to the side. Ogilvy nodded and went out the kitchens to a dingy alleyway where a small filthy child, a girl with dark hair, awaited him.

"They say sir, you give food for information. Stuff from Old Gotham, gangs, that sort of thing?" There was a literally hungry look in her eyes. It reminded Ogilvy quite a bit of himself.

It made him reflexively distrust and dislike the waif-girl.

"We do." He took a toffee from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. "Provided it's of interest."

"Oh." She looked down, then appeared to cheer up. "Well, whose not interested in this! Real magic!"

"Oh?" He pulled out another candy, toying with it in his hands.

"Yes- uh, sir. In Old Gotham, they're handing these out." He produced a bit of paper from a pocket, unfolding it into a flyer. "S'true, sir. I went and checked! Only it didn't work for me."

REAL MAGIC

DO STRANGE THINGS HAPPEN AROUND YOU?

DO YOU SOMETIMES SEE THINGS OTHERS DON'T?

ARE YOU CURIOUS ABOUT HIDDEN POWERS?

THEN WE WANT YOU!

COME FOR FREE TESTING OF YOUR MAGIC POTENTIAL

FREE CLASSES FOR QUALIFYING INDIVIDUALS

GOTHAM POLICE, 1366 MAIN ST. DURING BUSINESS HOURS

ROOM 13, BASEMENT FLOOR

COME MASTER THE MYSTIC ARTS TODAY!

(TESTING PROCESS NONINVASIVE AND PAINLESS)

"Well, sir? Is that worth something to you?"

"I suppose. One moment." Ignatius stepped back into the kitchens, glanced around a little before getting a single potato from an open sack. "There, and be off!"

Best to show, after all, that they really deliver. He looked back to the flyer.

"Well, I suppose it can't hurt anything to try." he mused aloud.