The Secret in the Attic 18.3

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Third Person POV

Penguin's Club

Every time that Jim found himself walking through the doors to Penguin's club, he felt at least five years of his life drain away, knowing he would potentially be indebted to Penguin once again. He hated that feeling but, despite his belief otherwise, he needed Penguin's help to take down Loeb. His debt would be for the greater good of the precinct and even the city where those in power wouldn't be at risk of blackmail, from Loeb at least.

On their entrance to the main room of the club, Jim immediately noticed the difference between the club now and when Fish Mooney had been in control. What was once a thriving business was now nothing more than a few stray tables that were filled. Even the entertainment on the stage was barely performing with half an effort.

Oswald was sitting at the middle table with another younger man, a large box containing a hideous green bottle in the centre of it. Upon seeing Jim and Harvey enter, excitement and joy crossed Oswald's face.

"Gentleman," Penguin said, a smile spreading on his face as he rose from his seat. "So nice to see you." Oswald limped a few feet over before he stopped and waited. "What can I do for you?"

For the next few minutes, Oswald listened in silence as Jim explained the situation. Jim was careful with what he said, not entirely trusting Oswald to go off and tell Falcone of their plan but he shared enough that Oswald was in full understanding of what they needed from him.

"You do realise what you're asking me to do. If Don Falcone is working with Commissioner Loeb to keep this trove of secrets hidden and I help you uncover them I'd be betraying my patron," Oswald said.

"That's right," Jim confirmed.

"If he found out, he'd – well, he'd be very angry. To say the least," Oswald reminded them with a smile.

"Enough with the hemming and hawing," Harvey interrupted, his patience already waring thin. "Are you gonna help us or not?"

"Let's say for argument's sake I could help you, what's in it for me?" Oswald asked, his smile now gone due to Harvey's interruption.

"I'll owe you a favour," Jim uttered the words that he hated to say, especially to someone as scheming as Oswald.

"No questions asked?" Oswald probed further.

"Jim ..." Harvey warned, but his partner didn't even look back at him for a split second.

"Yes," Jim forced himself to say.

"Do you know what this is?" Oswald asked, pointing at the hideous green bottle, causing Jim to shake his head in confusion. "Madre de Dios. A hundred bottles are made once a year by monks in the Italian countryside. It's Don Maroni's favourite."

"What's your point?" Jim asked.

"Oh, it's just a piece of information that might be useful one day. I like information," Oswald smiled. "If I help you find where Loeb keeps his files ... you give me ten minutes alone with them. I take what I want."

"This is not a good idea," Harvey said.

"Five minutes," Jim bargained, once again ignoring Harvey's input. "And you don't touch anything that has to do with cops."

"Five minutes alone with the files and a favour from Jim Gordon? Done," Oswald agreed happily, too happily for either cop's liking. "So who's up for a road trip?"

Chuckling as they left the club, the three men made their way to Harvey's car and got in. But as they drove along the road, within five minutes of Oswald's excited nattering Harvey was about ready to drive them off the road and into a nearby lamppost. Not even taking down Loeb and Flass was worth this drive.

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