The Iceberg Lounge was closed for the night after the earlier bombing.
The damage had been partially cleared, but more work still needed to be done to restore it to an acceptable level of class.
After midnight, three figures appeared on the rooftop and slipped inside without a sound.
Batman led the way, with Batgirl and Robin following closely as they moved through the stairwell, descending floor by floor.
Robin moved closer as they reached another level and spoke in a low voice.
“We’ve descended two floors already, but I can’t hear anything.
Should it be this calm even if closed?” Batgirl frowned as she listened.
“It’s indeed too quiet.” Batman continued forward without slowing.
“Stay alert.
If the Penguin is behind Black Mask’s death, then he’s expecting visitors.” They moved down another flight of stairs, and just as they reached the next level, the door ahead of them opened suddenly.
The movement was abrupt enough to stop all three of them at once.
From the doorway stepped a masked butler, walking forward with deliberate steps.
His gaze settled on Batman.
“Mr.
Batman,” he said, “entering another man’s establishment without permission is frowned upon, to say the least.
Repeatedly doing so is even more distasteful.” Batman studied him.
“You’ve been expecting us.” The butler continued.
“It is more concerning that you choose to bring a boy and a young lady in the middle of the night to participate in your unpleasant hobby.
I would consider such behavior worthy of correction, if only to set an example for society at large.” He paused for a moment letting this sink before continuing.
“However, Master Cobblepot has graciously invited you to dinner, so that this matter may be discussed as civilized gentlemen.” Batman’s eyes narrowed.
“And if I refuse?” The butler answered.
“Then I will assume you have forsaken civility, and I shall respond accordingly, sparing Master Cobblepot the disgrace that you are.” A brief silence followed.
“Lead the way,” Batman said.
The butler inclined his head respectfully as his tone became more respectful all of a sudden.
“Please follow me” He turned and began walking, and Batman followed immediately.
Robin and Batgirl hesitated for a moment, before moving after them.
The group advanced through the quiet interior of the Lounge.
As they walked, Batman spoke again.
“How much do you know, and who else does?” The butler replied.
“Excuse me sir, I fail to understand the question.
Can I ask you to elaborate?” “I know about the meeting in the grocery shop,” Batman said.
“So how much do you know about me, and how?” The butler hummed as he spoke with an admiring tone.
“As expected of a respectful senior of the profession, he did not hide it from his master, even if his master is not agreeable.” Batman narrowed his eyes.
“In truth, not much,” the butler continued.
“I did not look into you, and I have not informed Master Cobblepot of the meeting, as it is inconsequential to his affair,and may place a respectable senior in unnecessary trouble.” “You expect me to believe that?” Batman asked.
“What you insinuate is rather rude,” the butler replied evenly.
Batman shifted the subject.
“Then what about Black Mask?
Did you have a hand in that?” “That is a question for Master Cobblepot,” the butler said.
“I have nothing to comment on the matter.” Batman said nothing after that.
Before, he had been nearly certain of the Penguin’s involvement.
Now, there was no doubt.
Behind him, Robin and Batgirl exchanged a brief glance, reaching the same conclusion.
They continued forward until the corridor opened into the Iceberg Lounge restaurant, where a table had been set beside the massive iceberg at the center.
The table top was filled with covered plates.
And at the table sat the Penguin, calm and composed, already waiting for them.
The Penguin rose slowly from his seat, his expression composed as he faced the hero in front of him.
“Batman,” he said, “I have been expecting you.
Especially after I learned of the death of Black Mask.” Batman replied.
“He planted a bomb earlier in your avenue, and a few hours later he’s found dead.
What are the odds?” The Penguin gave a faint nod, as if acknowledging the logic.
“I thought as much,” he replied.
“I am certain you won’t accept any answer from me unless it is an admission of guilt.
However, you will not receive that from me.
I will not deny that I know who is responsible, nor the reason behind it.
But it was not my decision, nor did I carry out the act.” He lifted his head, his sharp nose pointing upward.
“I chose to stand on the right side of the law,” he continued.
“That being said, I will not share any information on the matter.
Black Mask attacked me earlier, and I was a moment away from returning to my old ways and declaring war.
If you wish to find the one responsible, you will have to direct your efforts elsewhere.” Batman watched him in silence before speaking again.
“You’re not waiting here just to say that.” The Penguin’s lips curved into a small smile.
“Indeed not,” he said.
“Please, take a seat.
Let us speak as civilized men over dinner.
My butler has gone to great lengths to prepare the meal.” As he spoke, Alfred moved forward and began uncovering the dishes one by one.
Revealing plates arranged with meticulous care.
Batman’s expression did not change, but Batgirl and Robin could not hide their surprise as they took in the presentation.
The table was immaculate, each dish placed with artistic style, the table was as though it was prepared for display rather than a meal.
The Penguin gestured lightly toward the chairs.
“Please,” he said.
“Take a seat.
I assure you, the food is not laced with anything.
It would be a disgrace to harm guests in such a manner, and we are all gentlemen here.” None of them believed him.
They knew better than to trust the Penguin.
Still, Batman took a seat opposite him, choosing to hear what he had to say.
Robin followed, taking a seat next to Batman.
Alfred stepped forward and stopped in front of Barbara, pulling out a chair with quiet precision.
“Please, my lady,” he said.
Batgirl hesitated for a moment, clearly not expecting the gesture, before slowly taking the seat.
She still wasn’t sure how to respond to the situation.
Batman’s gaze shifted toward Alfred.
Robin looked puzzled, uncertain what to make of the butler’s behavior.
The Penguin, however, watched with clear approval, satisfied with his servant’s conduct.
Alfred stepped back into position, standing a few steps away from the table as the Penguin began speaking again.
“I will admit,” the Penguin said, “there was a moment of weakness.
A moment where I considered returning to my old ways and killing you.” His eyes flicked briefly toward Alfred.
“Especially now that I have someone at my side who could deal with you and your two companions.” Robin and Batgirl tensed at that.
Batman’s voice remained calm.
“But you changed your mind.” “Yes,” the Penguin replied.
“I am not a thug, lowly criminal or a vicious person.
Acting out of old grudges is something beneath me.
It is something I would never do” The three vigilantes watched him closely, their silence carrying an unspoken remark.
‘You have done it before’ The Penguin continued without pause.
“I intend to operate my legitimate business,” he said.
“But my past and my connections make that difficult.
Gotham is already unstable, and further chaos would only harm my position.” He leaned forward.
“That is where you come in.
You may not be able to eliminate crime entirely, but you keep it contained.” He gave a faint smile.
“If you were to disappear, it would not benefit me.
And I would much prefer you to remain, rather than have to deal constantly with gangs or lunatics.” At that moment, Alfred stepped forward once more, placing a set of cups in front of each person.
Red wine was set before Batman and the Penguin, while Batgirl and Robin received orange juice.
The Penguin waited for Alfred to finish before continuing.
“I cannot sever all of my connections,” he said.
“Which means our paths will inevitably cross.
So, here is my proposal.
I will act as an information broker to everyone, including you.
I will not disclose every detail, but I will warn you when something significant is about to occur.
When one of Gotham’s lunatics decides to act big.” “In return, you will look the other way regarding my… smaller dealings.
Matters that, even if exposed, would result in little more than fines or negative publicity.
I believe this arrangement is… fair.” Batman remained silent for a moment before responding.
“First, I have a question for you.” The Penguin said “Ask.” Batman’s gaze shifted to Alfred.
“Who is he really?” The Penguin didn’t hesitate.
“A butler.” Batman asked again.
“Who is under the mask?
What does he want?” The Penguin gave a small shrug.
“I don’t know.
He made it clear that his identity is not to be known.
As for what he wants…” He paused briefly.
“He wants to be the perfect butler.” Batman’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“And you trust someone with no face saying something so unbelievable?
How do you know he isn’t planning something?” The Penguin was silent for a moment before answering.
“His actions speak for themselves.” A brief pause followed.
Then Batman stood.
Batgirl and Robin rose shortly after Batman, following his lead.
The Penguin remained seated, watching them before turning his gaze toward Alfred.
“Alfred, please see them out.” Alfred nodded and stepped ahead of the trio as he led them through the Lounge.
The silence stretched for a few several seconds as they moved away from the Penguin.
And when they were far enough, Batman spoke.
“The one who carried out the killing… was it you?” Alfred did not slow.
“Mr.
Batman,” he replied, “you are rather focused on me, are you not?
You even attempted to sow discord where none exists.” “I asked what anyone would ask,” Batman said.
“Who are you?
And why are you going this far?” “You have already received your answers,” Alfred replied.
“You simply chose to disregard them in favor of satisfying your paranoia.” Batman’s tone sharpened.
“You know who we are.
Why else would you serve orange juice to Batgirl?
You know her age” Alfred replied.
“That reasoning is amusing.
She is clearly young, and I doubt she would provide identification even if requested.
It would be improper for me to ignore such details and serve her wine.” Batgirl said, “No one is going to believe that.” “I spoke the truth and it is up to you to accept it or deny it” Alfred said.
He slowed, turning his head just enough to address her more directly.
“And, young lady, a word of counsel,” he continued.
“It may, in the fervour of youth, appear a most thrilling indulgence to accompany a gentleman of means into the uncertain hours of the night, and to partake in pursuits best left undescribed; yet, for the sake of your own future, I would most earnestly entreat you to abstain from such imprudence.
You stand at the threshold of a life yet unspoiled, these passing fits of recklessness will, in time, diminish.” Batgirl was caught off guard, her face showed how dumbfounded she was.
Alfred continued without pause.
“Mr.
Batman, even were I to extend the most generous interpretation, and suppose that your nocturnal engagements necessitate… assistance, and that you have therefore seen fit to employ methods of persuasion of a most dubious character upon the young and unguarded, it remains infinitely more troubling that you should elect to fashion a child into a soldier, all in service of what you are pleased to term a crusade.” Robin, just like Batgirl, stared dumbfounded, while Batman frowned at the words.
By then, they had reached the entrance of the Iceberg Lounge.
“Have a pleasant evening,” Alfred said.
“And please, use the entrance the next time you choose to visit.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked back inside.
——— The Lounge remained silent as he returned to the dining area.
The Penguin was still seated.
“Do you think he will agree?” the Penguin asked.
Alfred replied.
“If he understands what benefits him, he will,” he replied.
“He stands only to gain from this arrangement.” The Penguin gave a small nod, but his attention lingered.
Alfred continued.
“Master Cobblepot,” he said, “I could not help but notice your expression when Mr.
Batman inquired about my mask.” The Penguin went still.
“Forgive my directness,” Alfred continued, “but I must reiterate something to prevent any… unfortunate incidents.” He raised a hand, tapping the mask.
“This is who I am,” he said.
“What I am.” “If you wish to see my face, you may give the order, and I will comply.” There was a pause.
“However, understand this.
Our contract will be void.” His tone became cold.
“And while I despise violence and disgusted by the act of inflicting harm on others… I will abandon all civility and ensure that anyone who sees my face is removed from this world.” A slight tilt of his head.
“Including you.” Silence met his words.
“You are doing well as my master.” Alfred added, “I would prefer that to continue.” For the first time since meeting him, the Penguin felt fear.
He did not want to see what this man could do when truly pushed too far and angered to the extreme.
“I have no interest in your face,” the Penguin said finally.
“Your actions are more than enough.” Alfred’s tone returned to normal as he said “Thank you for your understanding, Master.
It is quite late.
I would advise you to get some rest.
I will take care of the remaining matters here.” The Penguin nodded once before rising and making his way out of the room.
“Good night,” Alfred said.
[This should be fine for now, as long as he believes only the crazy obsession of being a butler is what keeps me around aiding him, the trouble and limitation he would cause me are minimal] Alfred thought as he kept watching until the Penguin disappeared from sight.
Then Alfred returned to the table where Batman had been seated.
His gaze lowered as he examined the underside carefully.
He found a small listening device.
Just as he had expected it to be.
For a brief moment, he stood in silence.
He was disappointed.
The Penguin had chosen diplomacy and created a transactional relationship instead of escalating the conflict and using him to win.
A war would have been more productive.
Still, this had its advantages.
The Iceberg Lounge would now become a neutral ground of sorts.
A place where criminals gathered.
And where they gathered, conflict would inevitably follow.
It was slower but at the same time safer and might be more entertaining in the long run.