Broken Jigsaw [Scarecrow]

Edward got comfortable in the seat even though he knew he wouldn’t be there for long. He straightened out his jacket. He looked freshly pressed, confident, and suave. It would actually probably surprised most that he had ever had a break down two months ago. He was back to his go lucky self and ready to take on the world and watch bow to him.

The cold comment was abruptly ignored. He knew Jonathan was never very social. The only time you could probably get the man to talk was if you were in a nightmare…then he never shut up. No matter, Edward really wasn’t here for a chat, but Jonathan’s next comment did catch his interest. Strangely enough, Edward and Jonathan had more in common then Edward really cared to consider. They both saw no need for friends and relationships. Edward enjoyed being social, but he never trusted any of the people he spoke with. Even Selina, who was by far his closest friendship, was kept at a respectable arms length distance. He never told them his secrets. He never shared his plans. They were pawns in this game of chess he played. He already knew that the only person he could trust was himself. After all, everyone else represented mediocrity to him. Any type of relationship is a weakness that cannot be controlled. Edward did not care to ever have time for it. Why would he have to? Women were easily manipulated into a nightly activity without the need for commitment. He did have to agree with the man there. Liabilities were a pointless waste of time.

He pushed the similarity out of his thoughts. The man possessed some intelligence, but still not nearly enough to match his own. It would be his downfall. He watched Jonathan take a sip from his drink. It certainly was going to be easy. Edward had already set his pawns in place while Jonathan didn’t even realize he was on the board about to be manipulated into the black square Edward wanted him in. The question had been straight to the point and merely caused Edward to smile at the depressed looking man.

“I wanted to thank you for your excellent skilled hands. My arm has healed up nicely,” he said as he brought his left hand in the air and waved down the waitress, “It appears that your nose didn’t have the same recovery…or has always looked crooked?” He gave Jonathan a taunting smirk with a glint of deviousness in his eyes before turning to the waitress.

“Mr. Nigma, I’m so sorry for having you wait,” the woman said with a kind smile, “Do you want to speak with Mr. Cobblepot?”

He had been speaking with Ozzy for the last few weeks about things, and the man wasn’t currently pleased with him. He had no interest in the man interrupting his plan. “I’ll talk to him after I catch up with my fr-fellow, Jonathan. We haven’t seen each other…in what? Two months?” he acted shocked, but smirked at the end, “I would greatly appreciate it if you can get me that appletini that Ozzy keeps for me. Oh how rude? Jonathan, do you want another drink. I do say mine will be better then whatever your drinking,” he said pointing at it with a frown. He didn’t even allow Jonathan to answer before continuing, “Make it two.”

“Of course, Mr. Nigma,” she nodded.

“I’m certain you provide wonderful service as always,” he said with a flirtatious smile that caused the young woman to blush and turn around to get the drinks.

Edward then turned his focus back to Jonathan. He wondered silently how confused Jonathan was at the moment. He was probably lost in Edward’s methods. Good, he wanted to keep it that way.

Edward snorted at the comment of reality. His finger traced along the oak wood of the table as he waited for his drink. “I have more class then to ever crawl, but that does remind me of a riddle!” he stated proudly. He knew he was getting on Jonathan’s nerves. He could tell from the shifts in his seat and the natural aura of hatred Jonathan gave off in times of annoyance. Edward on the other hand was enjoying this, all of it. He couldn’t even stop smiling with how much fun he watching the mouse runs through his maze he had created. If Jonathan would have considered his threats, he wouldn’t be in the position he now was in. He watched that man take another taste of his drink as he smirked and went on with his riddle. “What has four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?” he asked happily, almost like a bouncing child.

Edward wasn’t bouncing in his sit though. He stayed still for the most part, his arms and hands expressing for him what he was describing. Edward had always been a very expressive man using all of his body language. In this sense, Edward and Jonathan were complete opposites. His body always seemed as stiff as a statue. Most likely the reason why most people had no desire go up to him.

Jonathan’s question only caused Edward’s eyebrow to rise ever slightly on his forehead. He was suspicious, but Edward wanted him to be. After all, he had already given him the clue to what he was up to, but the man had already proven that clue had already gone right over his head. It always awed him how the lack of trust could be just as easy to manipulate as trust itself. It was too late though. Jonathan was already in his hand, and Edward was playing him like a puppet in a show.

“Oh?” he said almost innocently, but the mocking smirk told them both that it wasn’t innocent at all. There were many reasons Edward had chosen to confront Jonathan in a public space. He knew Jonathan would have his chemicals on him. Every criminal always had there trinkets on their person. If he confronted him at his home, it would naturally lead to a physical battle. Edward recognized that he was not a skilled fighter. He could hold his own, but why would he want to do something when he could have a battle of the minds. In a public setting, it limited Jonathan’s options. Now the reason he choose the Iceberg Lounge for this confrontation was another thing all together, but Jonathan would find out soon enough. After all, you must have multiple puppets to pull off a show.

“Empty threats?” he commented, “No of course not.” If Jonathan wanted to underestimate him by proclaiming the threats were empty, it would be his downfall. “I told you I would be seeing you again. I never lie, so I’m keeping up my end of the promise. And while your company can be quite dull,” he paused giving a sigh as if he were bored now, “I must admit, I have become interested in your intelligence, so I have a game to play….if you’re up for it, that is.”

Just as he gave Jonathan another arrogant smirk, the waitress had come back with the martini glasses and set the green liquid drinks on the table.

“Thank you beautiful,” he said with a smile.

“Anything for you, Mr. Nigma,” the woman blushed and left again.

Yes, Edward did always get anything he wanted.

When he received the correct answer to his riddle he gave a small knowing smile. He expected Jonathan to give the correct answer. It was an overused riddle that any one who had some logical thought pattern could figure out. Edward didn’t give the riddle for the answer itself. It required much deeper set of intelligence skills to match his. It required reading between the lines and understanding the warning. Everything Edward said had a double meaning then what it was meant to. The riddle itself was a commentary towards time and how in a day a person life can come to an end. As the Sphinx had mentioned in the riddle, man reaches their age in the evening, and based on Edward’s clock, he had walked into the lounge at the beginning of the evening and most likely the end of Jonathan’s life.

Oh, but we can’t expect Jonathan Crane to determine such a hidden double meaning in that message. Only the Batman had such a skill and understanding of the human mind to make those connections, so he smiled.

He watched Jonathan finish off his drink. Everything was going perfectly to plan. Jonathan had missed his other hint earlier in the conversation. When he had stated that the drink he was ordering for them is better then what Jonathan is drinking he meant it literally. Edward’s drink wouldn’t kill them while Jonathan’s…well deadly poison was usually fatal. Quite unfortunate the man didn’t listen, but trust was a silly concept that could be manipulated like silly putty in Edward’s hand.

The confident smirk never left his face as he watched Jonathan slowly take off his glasses. He wondered for a moment if Jonathan actually thought such an action was actually intimidating. It never was to Edward. His predictable question only received a roll of the eyes from Edward. Scared? He already knew his mind was disturbed. He doubt he would be surprised with what he found and knew it certainly would not cause him to shiver with fear.

His rejection of the game was also predictable.

“I had a confident feeling you would say something along those lines,” Edward said as leaned back in the chair. He fiddled with the stem of one of the glasses of liquor, but did not immediately drink it. “It’s why I dosed your scotch with sodium hydroxide, or in other words lye,” he paused for a moment, “Well I guess that’s incorrect, I didn’t personally poison your scotch, but it is amazing how easily you can convince another to take action. Question, how does the Penguin respond to his precious bird's sickness?” He chuckled to himself, his eyes were on the glass in front of him, but he brought them back up to look over Jonathan’s features. “As you know it should not take long for the substance to start burning through your organs. You just finished your drink, so I would say in ten minutes you will start feeling terrible stomach pains. I highly doubt you will be alive in an hour.”

It was perfect. Everything was going perfectly to plan. Jonathan was not in control of him. He never would be again, as far as Edward was concerned. “Luckily, I do have an antidote, but if you wish to get it in time you have to play my game, or better put, solve my riddle.”

He smiled friendly at Jonathan with a taunting look, “Do you still not have enough time for it?”

The way Jonathan had studied him while Edward stripped his clothes was the similar way to how Edward studied Jonathan as he took in the information. He was furious, and Edward was delighted with the fact. He noticed the tighten grip on the table and the cold yet thoughtful glare. He was obviously trying to determine how he could escape from this, but Edward had planned this thoroughly. When someone destroy the very core of him, he makes certain that they feel the same pain. It was why two of his three previous employers were dead, the doctor who had messed up his leg now didn’t have his arm, and the nurses who had handled his file were buried in a cemetery. To Edward revenge was planned thoroughly, and the only man who managed to stop him from revenge was Batman. He didn’t understand how that man managed to read and understand his riddles so easily. It was for that reason he made them more and more difficult.

Since he is the Riddler, he had left a riddle for Batman about Jonathan’s predicament, but he made it even more challenging then before. After all, Jonathan was the true person who needed to solve the riddle. He would be severely disappointed if Batman beat him to it. His focus though was not on Batman right now. It was on the man who had recently come into some free time.

He was glad Jonathan understood the situation now.

He smirked.

He could tell Jonathan thought they were leaving, but they weren’t. Why would he allow the man to get the upper hand on him when they were alone outside? No, that would be stupid.

He pulled the two glasses he had ordered so they sat next to each other in between Edward and Jonathan. He had ordered them for a reason. “I’m glad,” he said with a condescending look, “It would have been unfortunate if this was the last time we spoke.” He chuckled to himself.

“It’s quite simple actually,” he began as his fingers tapped the bottom of each glass, “One of these holds your antidote, the other something else entirely,” he smirked, as his eyes shifted to Jonathan to better watch his expression. He pulls his hands away and leans his elbow on the door table. His hands catching his face as he watches the scene unfold. He probably looked similar to Harley with how his head teetered to either side. He was so giddy how could he not show his happiness. “Now, let us say I am Dent, even though we both know I am much better looking then man,” he chuckled again, “Half of me has a desire to tell the truth, while the other half only has a desire to lie. You only get one question.” He paused, his eyes looking at both glasses. There was a reason Edward had not decided to drink either when they had first been set on the table. “Riddle me this, what question would you ask to determine which glass has the antidote?”

It was a simple riddle, and if Jonathan could not determine the answer then he really wasn't worthy of the game. He would die, and Edward would rid the world of once less intelligent person on the planet. But Edward had been honest when he said he was impressed with Jonathan's mind. He did hope the man could prove to him once again that he had a brain. Though another option would be that Jonathan would not trust him and not drink from either. It would be stupid because Edward was telling the truth. After all, Edward didn't lie, and Jonathan knew all of his painful family history to determine why that was.

Edward noticed how Jonathan was moving. He was starting to feel the effect of the poison. How does it feel, Jonathan, to be unexpectedly drugged and nothing you can do about? He smirked confidently. Jonathan had only begun to see the power Edward would have over him. It was slightly entertaining how the two sides could be so easily switched. Two months ago, Edward had been trapped in a corner that Jonathan had created for him. Now he watched the very man who cried fear and power over everyone, trapped. He felt like he tasted victory, and his plan had only just begun. It only further proved how the Riddler was better then everyone.

He noticed his hand moved to his stomach, and the way he attempted swallowing. How much pain must you be in, Jonathan? He puzzled in curiosity. Do you finally understand the pain that I feel every day? It’s difficult, isn’t it. Weaker men can not handle it, and I have no doubt that you are a weaker man. The evil thoughts continued to cloud Edward’s mind as his eyes turned dark. Edward Nigma was far from a nice man when his pride had been scorn. Even hearing the question asked only furthered his pleasure in this experience. It wasn’t so much the answer, but how soft it was spoken.

Weak.

You are not up for this game.

You never were a match for me.

The question, of course, was the correct answer. He had expected it. After all, Jonathan did possess some form of intelligence. He didn’t want to kill Jonathan right here. It would destroy the point of revenge. He wanted to stretch it out. He wanted to understand the riddle of Jonathan. What made the man tick? Why was he so obsessed with fear? These were the riddles he planned to get the answers for. He would understand Jonathan the same way Jonathan now understood him. It was only fair. If friends were going to open up with one another, it needed to be done equally. Only logical.

He smirked. He didn’t respond immediately to Jonathan’s question. He enjoyed watching the man suffer a bit too much. Instead he leaned slowly back into the seat he was in. He then tapped his fingers against the table as if thinking over the answer. “Interesting question,” he began, and continued to chew over it. Oh, he knew this was torturing Crane. The pain he must be in. “Two Face would respond this one,” he stated pointing to the one on the right one meaning the antidote was in the left. The left one was the same one that had been given to Crane in the first place. He enjoyed the irony of the antidote being right in front of him, but his lack of trust preventing him from taking it. He chuckled softly. “Dent would say, this one,” he pointed to the same glass.

“It appears you have figured out the riddle,” he said as he brought his hands together in a golf clap, “But I promise you, the next riddle will be much harder. Even in your dreams you will have no chance of figuring it out.”

He waited for Jonathan to drink the antidote. Edward had been honest with him. The glass did contain the antidote, but both glasses contained sedatives. He never said they didn’t. It would only take a few minutes for Jonathan to go out like a light. Edward knew getting him to willingly come to play his little riddle would not occur without some initiative. It was much better to wait until the man was unconscious to move him.

Jonathan really was taking the exact steps Edward pulled him too. Manipulation would always be Edward’s best talent.

“Ah, but neither can you,” he stated with a taunting look to his final comment as he watched the man slip out of consciousness. He sat there for a moment, feeling smug and double-checking to make sure Jonathan was truly out. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a green apple tootsie pop. He undid the wrapper throwing it into the second drink. He placed the candy into his mouth. For some reason, during success it tasted all the sweeter.

“Allen. Robby. Our dear Doctor seems to have had too many,” he commented to the table behind Jonathan. As expected his two men stepped out of the table and moved towards the Riddler’s side. He always had a back up plan. If Jonathan failed to drink the scotch, he planned on Allen drugging him with chloroform. Luckily, there was no need for less then stylish actions.

“Is he dead boos?” Robby asked with uncertainty.

Edward frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “Robby, I swear if you ask one more stupid question you will be out of work,” he growled, glad to have a lollipop in his mouth. It amazed him how the boy could easily kill him mood, but it was quickly brought back with a quick glance at Jonathan. He smirked then put on his bowler cap before pushing out of the table.

“Allen, let’s help Dr. Crane home,” he smiled. Jonathan should have been suspicious of others. After all, how did Edward, a cripple, plan to lug his body back? He should have kept a look out for his henchmen. While Allen and Robby do not wear green unless he is really feeling a flare for the theatrics, they had been working for him for a while now. Most understood they were his henchmen, but like everyone, in times of dramatics people wear blinders.

Allen nodded and easily pulled Jonathan out of the booth and over his shoulder. The man looked so pathetic being thrown around like a rag doll. Edward loved it. He swung his cane in his hand with a happy smirk before heading towards the exit. No one had eyes on them. First, the people in this section tonight were mob members or smugglers. Both groups knew better then to mess with a rogue, especially a rogue dragging another rogue in tow. It was no their business, and they had no interest to get involve. Second, the guy could just be drunk.

“Edward!” a man basically kawed his name from behind. Edward cringed. He had hoped to get out of the Iceberg without seeing him. His presence must have tipped either by the waitresses or cameras.

“Why hello, Ozzy,” he said turning around to face the Penguin storming up to him. Edward tipped his hat to him, “As you can see, I am on my way.”

“Yes. Yes. I can see that,” Ozzy snapped, “You’re quite lucky I didn’t decide to interrupt your playtime with Dr. Crane. Childish truly, Edward.” He mocked, wagging his thick finger at him. The action gnawed at Edward’s nerves, but he ignored it. “I’m not here to judge. I want my end of the deal, Nigma. You said that you could heal my babies, yet you have had them for days. I have now held up your request. Therefore, I suggest you get my beauties to me within twenty four hours, or I will have the entire underworld after you,” he growled before calming himself, “All I must do is snap my fingers.”

Edward listened to Ozzy annoying rant. Riddle me this, how do you get control of the Penguin? Answer, you offer him something no one else can supply. With Edward it was his intelligence, and it was something Ozzy had sought from him on many occasions. When his birds became sick, Edward knew it was only a matter of time before he would get a call from the Penguin to help determine what was wrong. Ozzy didn’t know that Edward had actually poisoned their food. The symptoms just appeared like a virus of some sort, so it was not surprising that the man wasn’t suspicious of Edward.

Edward only had one request in return for healing them, and it appeared the request was quite worth it.

“Oswald, you will have your birds back tomorrow. They seem to have finally come out of this horrible sickness that has graced them. I must say my farewells. It defeats the purpose if Jonathan wakes up before the riddle,” Edward smirked, as he tipped his hat again and moved.

Ozzy snorted, “I have no interest in your silly riddle. I just want my birds back. I hope you understand that.” Ozzy gave another glare, but Edward only smiled.

“Understood,” he stated before turning back around, “Farewell, Oswald.”

---

Edward Nigma leaned back in his comfortable office chair. His feet sat on the counter in front of his rows of security screens. There was a camera on his face that showed his image to the building miles away from his current location. He watched Jonathan carefully as he sucked on his lollipop. The man still had not woken up, but he knew it was minutes away from happening. He wondered what Jonathan’s first thoughts would be when he work up. He did constantly preached to being the Master of Fear, but such a title was hard to keep when you face death. Fear would not be saving him. Only honesty and intelligence could grant him freedom.

He looked at the screens. Jonathan hanged two feet above the ground, his hands and arms all separated forcing him into a spread eagle position. His wrists were tightly bound as well as his ankles. The only way to take off the bounds was to undo the lock, but the key was not so close to Jonathan. Each wrist and ankle was connected to a chain that went into the wall or floor. The chain was made of hard metal so was not easily broken. Above Jonathan, there was a large cage that held multiple species of birds. They were loud and angry, but Edward knew the reason why. They were hungry. He hadn’t been the kindest to Oswald’s birds, but Edward had never had an interest in pets.

In front of Jonathan, about a foot away was a long chain that if pulled would open the cage to the birds. About four feet away sitting on a counter was a strong made plastic box. Inside there was a key, but the only way the box could be open was if you pressed in the correct code.

Edward smirked as he studied each contraption on the screens in front of him. Poor Jonathan, he really hasn’t got a clue. He smirked to himself. When the man woke he would notice that he wouldn’t be able to move his arms or legs. He would then probably notice that his jacket smelled of a different scent. If he is really paying attention, he might be able to feel that Edward had taken all of his toxins he had on his person.

Edward hated cheating. He would not be having it today.

His eyes widened for a moment when he saw Jonathan start to shift. Edward quickly moved his feet from the table to better see and for Jonathan to better see him on the screen.

“Good Evening Jonathan, I decided leaving you at the bar unconscious was not the intelligent thing to do. With idiotic buffoons who knows what they would have done in your time of weakness,” he smirked into his camera.