Chapter 8

[1st POV]

It's a wonderful time with a paid leave after being injured.

I just lie on the couch, sip a beer, and watch the news.

Yesterday, I was awarded a "Bravery Medal" and a cash prize, along with two weeks of vacation.

So, I'm in quite a good mood.

I'm considering withdrawing some savings that I inherited from my parents, and Isaac himself also has, or rather, had a bank account.

I might withdraw it and buy a house on my own.

It's a bit sad to leave this cozy apartment and the Smith family next door, but I do need a place of my own because the rent here is quite high.

Of course, police salaries in America are enough to live on, and in Gotham, it's even more than in any other U.S. city.

It's probably due to the high risk to life and health.

Watching the news occasionally and calling Arthur to find out what was new with them, I even started to forget a bit about the training regimen I'd planned.

Out of that whole list, I've only kept up with reading insightful books on philosophy and psychology.

Given how much I've read, I could soon defend a thesis on the subject. I even have some practice...

"Ding!"

"Ding!"

"And who could be calling me now?"

I opened the door and saw someone I definitely didn't expect to see on my doorstep.

"Hey, it's me."

Barbara Gordon smiled.

"Miss Speedy-Snail?"

I grinned.

"I didn't think honest, unlucky thieves would be up for revenge. So, what are you planning to do with me?"

Barbara Gordon was so angry that she was almost gasping for air, but she was able to hold back any insults she might have wanted to throw at me.

"My name is Barbara Gordon. My father should have told you about me!"

"Alright, alright, come on in, Miss Gordon. I was just joking."

She hesitated momentarily but quickly slipped past me, giving me a view of her shapely figure in tight jeans as she walked by...

"Can I offer you something to drink? Tea, coffee, maybe something stronger?"

"No, thank you. I'm actually here on a bit of a personal matter."

"So, is this going to be some sort of sneaky, feminine revenge?"

I asked, stepping back in fake fear.

"Heh, no. It's just that... well, I've been curious about some of the cases you... I mean, you handled, Mr. Dinklage."

"Let's drop the formalities; just call me Isaac. I'm not that old."

"Okay, then you can just call me Barbara. So, here's the thing—I'm interested in your actions during recent events."

"Oh, really?"

I thought.

I didn't expect Batman's sidekick to be so obvious about asking me directly.

"Yes. If I'm not mistaken, you Officer and McCoy handled the arrest of a man who burst into a café where a group of kids and their moms were celebrating a birthday?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right. I'm pretty sure that was my first day on the job here in Gotham, my first call."

"Hm. Lucky you."

She said, flashing a slight smile.

"So, could you give me an interview about that incident?"

"Wait, an interview? Last I checked, you're on path to be a lawyer, not a journalist or are you still working part-time for the local newspaper?"

"No, it's just that when you sent me to a cell, I missed an important lecture where I was supposed to present my report to the head of our department. However, I didn't make it and now I need to make up for that mistake. They've asked me to prepare an analysis of any arrest related to racial biases. I know you're a decent guy without any bad tendencies. But some of my classmates think that we have at least two racists serving in our police force."

"Alright. I'll help. What do you need from me?"

"Just answer a few questions I've prepared and that's it. I'll record the answers on my tape recorder, then I'll analyze them for my report. You just need to answer all the questions honestly. It won't take more than twenty minutes."

Looks like I was wrong. She just wants to improve her grade, and Batman wouldn't expose himself so openly.

I need to help her.

After all, I'm partly to blame for her situation.

The interview took just over twenty minutes.

It was pretty straightforward, and I felt no moral or physical discomfort, but a few of her questions about the police were unusual.

She asked why I chose to work in law enforcement, about the military, and what I really think of the Gotham police.

Those are odd questions, but they are logical ones.

She's young and curious, and I'm almost sure this has nothing to do with her "other life."

After Barbara hurried off, I went back to planning out my training.

With all the close calls I'd had lately, increasing my physical strength and sharpening my skills was starting to feel like survival 101 for Gotham.

...

Then, the day came when Katherine dragged me to the opening of a new restaurant with the intriguing name "Trout."

I have no idea who this relative of Mrs. Smith is, but they clearly lack imagination and taste.

I arrived at the meeting spot alone.

Kat had been here since morning, helping her "relative" with something, so I didn't know where exactly to find her.

I just sent her a quick message to find out where to look for her.

I really, really hoped that this gathering would go without any "special circumstances" or "encounters."

However, something in my gut tells me there's going to be something interesting.

Hopefully, it won't be anything bad.

"Isaac!"

Katherine grabbed my arm.

"For a second there, I thought you might bail on me tonight."

She wore a red dress with a stunning view of her neckline and bare back with side slits revealing her long legs, adding to her striking appearance.

"Leave you here with this crowd of snobs? Never."

I replied, grinning.

"Besides, with you looking like that, it would be a crime not to come today."

[1+ Casanova]

"I'm flattered."

She smiled, pulling me through the crowd to the upper floor.

After a few turns on the second floor, we entered the office of a very important person.

I recognized him immediately despite never having met him in person before.

It was hard not to recognize the well-known, stout man of short height—a notorious gangster and thief in the underworld, known as Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot or The Penguin.

"I suppose introductions aren't really necessary, but for formality's sake, I'll do it."

She beamed.

"Oswald, meet my friend, Isaac Dinklage, the young police officer who's been making so much noise lately. Isaac, this is Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, a renowned businessman, philanthropist, and quite an influential figure. Well, I imagine you already know of him from work."

"Yes, I've heard quite a bit about you. Nice to meet you, Mr. Cobblepot."

I said, extending my hand to him.

He shook her hand firmly and flashed a bright smile in my direction.

"You can call me Penguin, like most people in this city. I don't mind if it makes things easier for you. Honestly, I quite like it too. I was pleasantly surprised when Kat decided to bring you along. I wanted to meet the one who managed to charm the Joker and win over Poison Ivy."

"Win over?"

Catherine perked up immediately.

"I think the rumors of her infatuation are slightly exaggerated. She's just a very passionate person."

I replied, trying not to give anything away in front of my companion.

"Haha! Well, you should pay her a visit soon and see her cell. Trust me, you'll be quite surprised."

"Wow, I didn't think you'd drive that green menace even crazier."

Kat said, releasing my hand with a rather displeased tone.

"What about me? I'm an honest and noble cop. By the way, when we first met, she snuck into the hospital where I was recovering from my injuries, and I had to arrest her..."

Suddenly, Penguin interrupted me.

"Well, I think it's best not to burden Mr. Dinklage with questions about that evening. We're not here to discuss the Joker and Miss Ivy. I believe having fun and drinking is the best thing we can do after recent events. Besides, it's time for us to present ourselves to the guests."

We descended into the hall already filled with quite a crowd, or rather, esteemed guests.

There were bankers, businessmen, gangsters, government officials, reporters, and many others.

Katherine and I found a corner for ourselves.

We didn't particularly want to be in the spotlight, so we engaged in a relatively pleasant conversation.

She seemed bothered about Pamela.

'Why was she jealous of her? By the way, I should probably pay her a visit soon.'

"Mr. Dinklage?"

A slightly deep but surprisingly pleasant voice addressed me.

To be continued...