Free Batman 2 - Batman Returns by Craig Shaw Gardner

planning to give The Penguin some sort of office. No doubt it would be a good place to meet the public, if The Penguin ever wanted to do that sort of thing.
    Upstairs, it was a different story: dirty, dingy, cluttered—a real working space. The Red Triangle Circus Gang hung out up here, practicing their acts and generally acting rowdy. They had opened a large ventilation duct up here that also opened up at the rear of the building, so that the gang members could come and go at will without the embarrassment of having to deal with those boringly legitimate people on the first floor.
    And The Penguin had his list of names, all on that pile of yellow legal pads. Now all he had to do was cross-reference every single one of them against the white pages of Gotham phone books. It was not a simple job.
    The phone kept on ringing.
    The Organ Grinder shooed his monkeys away to answer it.
    “Yeah?” he said. He held the phone out toward The Penguin. “For you, boss.”
    Now? The Penguin grabbed the phone and almost growled into the receiver. “Yeah? What is it? I’m busy up here.”
    “Good,” Max’s all-too-cheerful voice greeted him on the line. “Stay busy up there. I got plans for us below.”
    What did he mean? Down at the lower level of his new headquarters? Well, The Penguin supposed since he had made the deal, he had to put up with Max. He never realized how much it would interfere with his work here.
    “Plans,” he repeated halfheartedly. “Swell. Later.” He slammed down the phone. He’d deal with Max at the proper time. For now, he had to finish off the phone books and his list.
    It was a lot of work, but because of this, his final revenge would be that much sweeter. He returned to matching addresses with every single name.
    After all, all play and no work made a dull Penguin.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

    I t was time to prowl.
    She could no longer stay in her den, even after it had been transformed. Cats were meant to roam the night.
    So she roamed.
    What did we have here?
    The dirty streets of Gotham seemed to have coughed up some more of their scum. And who is it today? Just your average, garden-variety mugger, who had grabbed a pretty young woman and dragged her back into an alley.
    “Help, Batma—” the woman began.
    Batman? Is that all the woman could think of?
    “Now, now,” the mugger smirked, “pretty young thing, nice and easy—”
    The victim cowered and held out her purse. “Please. Don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything—”
    The other woman had had quite enough of this.
    She leapt from the fire escape, landing squarely on the mugger’s back. He flew forward to the ground.
    “I just love a big strong man who’s not afraid to show it,” she mentioned as he rolled beneath her, “with someone half her size.”
    The mugger had managed to roll onto his back. He stared up at her in astonishment. “Who the—” he began.
    “Be gentle,” she replied. “It’s my first time.”
    Apparently he wasn’t listening, because he leapt up with a growl, intent on grabbing her.
    She darted out of the way, and gave him a savage kick. All the breath left him as he staggered back.
    Hey, not bad, she thought. But before he could recover, it was time for the talons.
    She jumped forward and set to work scratching up his face.
    The mugger screamed and fell to the asphalt.
    “Tic—tac—toe,” she murmured in triumph.
    The victim rushed up to her side.
    “Thank you,” she gushed, “thank you. I was so scared—”
    Her defender had had enough of this, too. She pushed the victim back against the wall with one of her claws.
    “You make it so easy, don’t you?” she asked in disgust. “You pretty, pathetic young thing? Always waiting for some Batman to save you.”
    The victim cringed again, quaking, expecting something even worse.
    She leaned forward to whisper in the victim’s ear: “I am Catwoman. Hear me roar.”
    And with that, Catwoman leapt away, cartwheeling out of the alley to disappear into the