Everything is set. The alibi. The appearance. The gadgetry. The strategy. Even an extra set of eyes and ears, to fall back on. All of which I remind myself of on the drive there. And even when I arrive, I can't help but wonder if I'm actually going to meet the end of this night with success.
Zeus' Casino is massive, to say the least. Two large statues of gold depicting ancient Greek soldiers line out the entrance of which a red carpet falls onto the sidewalk. They're at least half the size of Gotham's grander skyscrapers. I don't look at them with awe or even admiration. I look upon them with disgust. Especially with the knowledge that soon, my family's earnings and hard work could be paying for such blantant and, admittedly, tacky commercialism.
All the more reason tonight's goal must be met. I can't afford to fail.
I walk up the steps leading in, passing various self proclaimed "gems" of the Gotham social circle. I wouldn't have classified them as my favorite people by any means before, but their appearance here, tonight, certainly doesn't raise my opinion of them in any way. They greet me with the occasional smile, as we wait to enter... that is, if they're not too busy quite obviously overpolishing their outward appearances. I simply look on, trying to take my mind off of it. They're not the reason I'm here tonight. Zeus is. They can gamble their respective fortunes away on their own... I'd rather be left out of it.
"Bruce! Bruce Wayne!"
I recognise the voice even before I turn around to greet it's owner. God, of all the people that had to show up here...
I put on a smile with so much effort that I fear my face will combust beneath the impact as I greet him.
"Hello, Ozzie.", I state, shaking his hand.
"It's been awhile. Congratulations on the election."
Oswald "Ozzie" Cobblepot. Once in the line of similar taste to Zeus, in the fact that they were both willing to pick the pockets clean of each and every socialite around them just to gain the recognition of doing so in the form of Casinos and nightclubs. Except Cobblepot added another title to his resume, as of late. "Mayor". The mayor of Gotham. I'm not sure if I've ever feared more for the city's welfare than when it was shifted into his hands.
"Why thank you, my boy.", He responds, his voice cracked in the years of smoking the finest cigars that money could buy.
"Really unfortunate that I couldn't make that tee-off a few weeks back, I must say. But of course, I'm sure you understand that my job proceeds my pleasantries."
I smirk.
"I know the feeling. It's no big."
"Oh?", He asks, curious.
"Word is that you've recently been yanked from the modest world of industrialism. Surely that can't be true, Bruce?"
I shrug.
"Well, you win some, you lose some, I guess.", I answer, trying to hide the anger I can feel lurking just below the surface.
"Such a shame. You could've been big in this town.", Ozzie responds, patting me once on the shoulder.
"But I'm sure you'll land on your feet in time. A young man like you is open to limitless possibilities."
Hard to believe he's treating me with such kindness and respect (to which I put mildly, at best), given our last meeting. I seem to recall him ungratefully ranting about my vigilance, despite the fact that I had saved him and District Attorney Rachel Dawes from the psychotic Monk that had plagued Gotham just minutes before. But I guess in a sense, I can't truly blame him for distrusting me... even if I never trusted him in the first place myself.
"Can I assume that's why you're here tonight? I did hear Zeus' name mentioned in regards to your position.", He asks.
I shake my head.
"On the contrary, Ozzie. I'm just here to have a little fun. I've been needing it, in spite of recent events."
Why anyone could even classify gambling as "fun" of any sort is beyond me. But of course, I wouldn't want to let any of my genuine feelings show through. It's not exactly good for the stereotype I'm trying to maintain.
"Good lad, good lad. It's never good to take these sort of circumstances lying down, afterall.", Ozzie states, before turning to the two women behind him that I just noticed.
"Ladies, let's embark on a night of chance. Bruce, it was good seeing you again. Give your butler my best."
I nod, as he walks into the entrance, past me, each woman on his arm. I'm tempted to vomit on the spot, but I'll refrain until I return to the Manor. Now, however, I need to focus on the goal ahead. Zeus has no doubtedly hired the best security he could afford for his first night under Gotham's skies... so that limits my operations to that of a discreet nature. Luckily... that's how I work
best.
"'A bit of fun'? Now I am beginning to worry about you."
I look around, making sure no one around me heard that. Not even a glance towards my direction. Good. Now I know the radio reciever in my ear is working effeciently.
"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't speak into the piece until I made it to the game table?", I ask, in a whisper.
And I know he heard that, given that I'm also wearing a compact-microphone hidden under my tongue. I guess it's a good thing that I thought to stock up on Wayne Enterprises' electronic developments before discussion of my resignation arose, yesterday...
"My apologies, sir. I guess there are just some moments that are too wonderful to pass up."
I try my best to hide my expression at that, as I finally enter the Casino.
The main hall is nothing like I expected. The ceiling's lined with gold, or at least an impressive imitation. Fountains grace the entrance as we're all guided past it, into the gaming room. Even the slot machines and poker tables are clearly plated with some sort of silver. Zeus has gone all out. That's the first thing I notice. The second thing is that there's no doubtedly a reason more to it than simply making a good first impression. He's trying to lead the guests on... distracting them from something about the Casino. But
what?
I sneer, looking around as I try to locate a staff room. I'll find my answer there, if anywhere. But the problem lies in Zeus' extravagance. With his expanded luxuries also come expanded security, no doubt to keep whatever he's hiding to remain hidden, aswell as keep the guests safe from the increasingly notorious Gotham City nightlife. It'll be hard to sneak past them, especially given that I've placed myself out in the open.
But therein comes the plan. All there is to do now is to make my way in through one of the games. And since I know little of gambling, given that I devoted my studies to more... practical activities, that's where Alfred's use comes into play. The man has many talents. Acting, surgical expertise, interior decor, even a bit of background with the Marines... but never once would I have suspected he was also an esteemed poker player.
"Alright, I'm in.", I whisper out of the corner of my mouth, making sure not to draw any attention.
"-But I can't figure out where to start. The gaming tables are already lining up with players."
"I'm assuming you're looking to play a quick game, rather than a prolonged one, so you can get on with your investigation."
"It would be beneficial, yes.", I answer, looking around as I make my way through the growing crowd.
"Hmm. Then I'd suggest 5 card draw. It's quite simplistic in nature. Which I'm sure suites your time table for the evening."
"You've played it before?"
"I'm mostly experienced in Blackjack and Solitaire. But I fancy myself a rather fast learner."
Well, that's reassuring.
Moments later, I've made my way to one of the tables, taking a seat next to a noticeably slender male that I've never seen before.
"Question. Who's going to ace this child's game by evening's end?"
I look over, eyebrow raised, when the man speaks.
"Answer? Me, of course.", He states, with a devilish grin at the dealer.
"You're certainly confident in yourself.", I mention, adjusting my tie as I look down to make sure the optical camera in my cuffs are working functionally. It's the only way Alfred can see the cards I'll have.
"Only born fools know not the game, Mr. Wayne, before they partake in the challenge.", He states, proudly.
"And luckily, I know the game as if I myself invented it."
Confident is an understatement. Arrogant, however...
"I'll be sure to remember that, Mister...?", I ask, curious.
"Me? Oh, not a soul someone like you would know. I tend to stay out of the spotlight, granted I stay out of it purposely. I usually let my work speak for itself, not the face infront of it."
As strange and as overconfident as I find him to be, I admit that I can relate to his methods.
"And just what do you do?"
"Never thought you'd ask.", He states, reaching into his dark green vest and pulling out a buisness card, before handing it to me.
"I'm a private detective, of sorts. The challenge of a case usually excites me, if it does not bore from the simplicity first."
I look down at the card, engraved with a question mark banner. "E-Nigma Investigations". Haven't heard of it. I doubt Lance or Gordon has, either, judging from the quality of the card. But something tells me that he talks more than he actually delivers. I look back up at him.
"Well, then. I certainly hope you don't mind if I remain a bit skeptical."
He chuckles.
"Not at all. Everyone is, usually. But let's let the cards speak in our place, shall we?"
"Fine by me.", I state, as the dealer begins passing out cards and chips.
Patience is the key. If I can keep at least that intact, I still stand even the slightest chance.