7) Stiches and suspicions

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As Dick stepped out of the car, Anthony offered to hold the book bag for him. He kindly declined, of course. He had worked hard to get this. He wanted to be the one who gave it to penguin.

Penguin was in a conversation with a lady in a dark red dress when they entered the club. His eyes widened. "Oh, wow." He commented.

He snapped his fingers. "Someone call a doctor. Also, clean the floor once we leave," He called out. "Sorry, ladies and gentlemen for the mess. It will be dealt with immediately. Continue with what you were doing." He apologized to the guests of The Iceberg Lounge with a smile.

He turned back to the person he was talking to a minute ago. "Sabrina, lets finish this conversation later, shall we?" She nodded and walked away.

"Now...uhh.." he murmured. He gestured towards the book bag that Dick was clutching, "that has the money, correct?"

"Yeah." Dick replied.

"Give it to me, please" he ordered. Dick unstrapped it and passed the bag to penguin.

He opened the zipper and grinned. "Wonderful. Now, let's go somewhere more private." He told Dick. "Good work, Anthony." He mentioned. The man bowed his head in respect.

Dick and Oswald limped to another room together.

"I'm impressed and concerned at the same time." Oswald stated while closing the door behind him. "Not only did you manage in a difficult situation, but you got quite a lot of money." He sat down on a luxurious chair across from Dick , who was not sitting due to the mess he would cause, with a coffee table between them. He emptied the book bag's contents, spilling mainly cash and a few other things onto the table.

"Hmm, I'd say there is about 75,000 dollars." Penguin said, pleased. He clasped his hands together. "Now, what you probably have been waiting for: your side of the deal. "

Dick raised his eyebrows. He had completely forgotten. "Uh, about that," He uttered hoarsely, "Could we talk about it tomorrow? I-I'm pretty tired."

"Ah." Penguin nodded sympathetically. "Of course. Just one thing-"

There was a knock on the door. Oswald got up to open it. A woman in white clothing and a first aid kit walked in. "Hello. I was called to assist with injuries?" She questioned.

"Yes, yes. He's right there." Oswald said as he pointed to Dick.

The woman gasped upon looking at him. "Oh my!" She took out her kit and quickly started spreading ointment over his wounds. Her eyebrows pressed together. "Thank goodness I got here before your gash got infected. How did this happen?" She inquired, slightly suspicious.

Dick looked at Oswald. Oswald panicked for a second, but coughed and said with the first lie that came to mind. "He was running along the sidewalk, playing tag, when he tripped really badly. You know how hard concrete can be." He nervously laughed.

The lady chuckled, her laugh as fake as Oswald's. She looked at Dick. "I'm going to need to stitch this. It's really bad. Is that okay?" She kindly questioned.

Dick nodded. It, unfortunately, wouldn't be his first time.

The woman smiled and started taking out the supplies she'd need to do the procedure,

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