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May. 17th, 2006 09:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gotham_knockingOutside, the winds howled. Winter was arriving in Gotham in its usual fashion. Inside, the old windows of the newsroom rattled something fierce. Which was also normal, so Knox ignored the noise as well as the draft.
Two weeks ago, he received a phone call from a man named Hugo Strange. A psychologist, or psychiatrist, or something, who had read Knox's Batman articles with interest. Strange wanted to grant an interview to Knox, and to tell the readers of the Globe all he had deduced about the Bat. Knox was dubious, but he knew that if Strange were the real deal, someone else would get that interview.
So today, Knox reads through everything he could unearth on the good Dr. Strange. Certainly Strange's credentials were legit. Born in Boston, but raised in Austria. Graduate of the University of Berlin. MD and Ph.D. Jungian (whatever that means). Returned to America in 1978, arrived in Gotham in 1983. Private practice in the Heights, and visiting professor at Jersey College of Medicine. Profiled in Gotham Today in 1985 in an article unimaginatively titled "Dr. Strange and Love," which talked about his theories about love and lust and the big city. Knox tried to read the profile, and found it poorly written. And dull.
But there was enough here that Knox felt it might be worth an afternoon, just to see what Strange had to say about Bats. He picks up the phone.
"Dr. Hugo Strange's office. Can I help you?" A standard receptionist voice.
"Yeah, this is Alexander Knox, Gotham Globe. Your boss left me a message two weeks ago, about a story I'm working on."
"Hold please." There is silence for two minutes, and then, "Hallo?" The voice is that of a refined Middle European.
"Dr. Strange?"
"Ah, this is Mr. Knox, correct? I was beginning to think I wouldn't hear from you."
"It's been hectic here. You wanted to talk about Batman, right?"
"Yes, yes. I have been thinking much about him. About his mask, and his vendetta. I think there are insights into the man I can offer the city. And I see that you have taken him as seriously as I have."
"Yup. But I haven't gone down your route yet. I'd like to come over and get an interview about this."
"Excellent, Mr. Knox. I can even promise I won't kick you out after 50 minutes." Strange gives a small chuckle. "You will have to wait till next week, however. My life fills itself up fast."
"Next week is fine, Doc. Just say the when and where."
"Give me a moment, Mr. Knox." During the moment, Knox wonders if Strange doesn't like being called "doc." "How is next Tuesday, at 4 pm? I have a cancellation, and can give you the time, if you don't mind coming to my office."
"Not at all. That's at..." He knew where it was, but couldn't let Strange know that, could he?
"300 Upper Park Row. Do you know the area?"
"Hey, I grew up here. I know all the area."
"Ah. Good then. I shall see you at that time. I look forward to it. It should be most enlightening." What did he mean by that? Knox hasn't a clue.
"Um, yes. See you then." Hanging up, Knox jots down the time and place on a scrap and clips it to the Hugo Strange folder. He takes one more look at the folder, at the photo of Strange, a heavyset bald man with a scraggly black beard that is somewhere in thickness between C. Everett Koop's and Robert Bork's. When did it become fashionable to have beard without mustaches again?
Knox takes the folder and adds it to the stack he keeps for his trips to the Bar. Maybe he can read that article again later.
Two weeks ago, he received a phone call from a man named Hugo Strange. A psychologist, or psychiatrist, or something, who had read Knox's Batman articles with interest. Strange wanted to grant an interview to Knox, and to tell the readers of the Globe all he had deduced about the Bat. Knox was dubious, but he knew that if Strange were the real deal, someone else would get that interview.
So today, Knox reads through everything he could unearth on the good Dr. Strange. Certainly Strange's credentials were legit. Born in Boston, but raised in Austria. Graduate of the University of Berlin. MD and Ph.D. Jungian (whatever that means). Returned to America in 1978, arrived in Gotham in 1983. Private practice in the Heights, and visiting professor at Jersey College of Medicine. Profiled in Gotham Today in 1985 in an article unimaginatively titled "Dr. Strange and Love," which talked about his theories about love and lust and the big city. Knox tried to read the profile, and found it poorly written. And dull.
But there was enough here that Knox felt it might be worth an afternoon, just to see what Strange had to say about Bats. He picks up the phone.
"Dr. Hugo Strange's office. Can I help you?" A standard receptionist voice.
"Yeah, this is Alexander Knox, Gotham Globe. Your boss left me a message two weeks ago, about a story I'm working on."
"Hold please." There is silence for two minutes, and then, "Hallo?" The voice is that of a refined Middle European.
"Dr. Strange?"
"Ah, this is Mr. Knox, correct? I was beginning to think I wouldn't hear from you."
"It's been hectic here. You wanted to talk about Batman, right?"
"Yes, yes. I have been thinking much about him. About his mask, and his vendetta. I think there are insights into the man I can offer the city. And I see that you have taken him as seriously as I have."
"Yup. But I haven't gone down your route yet. I'd like to come over and get an interview about this."
"Excellent, Mr. Knox. I can even promise I won't kick you out after 50 minutes." Strange gives a small chuckle. "You will have to wait till next week, however. My life fills itself up fast."
"Next week is fine, Doc. Just say the when and where."
"Give me a moment, Mr. Knox." During the moment, Knox wonders if Strange doesn't like being called "doc." "How is next Tuesday, at 4 pm? I have a cancellation, and can give you the time, if you don't mind coming to my office."
"Not at all. That's at..." He knew where it was, but couldn't let Strange know that, could he?
"300 Upper Park Row. Do you know the area?"
"Hey, I grew up here. I know all the area."
"Ah. Good then. I shall see you at that time. I look forward to it. It should be most enlightening." What did he mean by that? Knox hasn't a clue.
"Um, yes. See you then." Hanging up, Knox jots down the time and place on a scrap and clips it to the Hugo Strange folder. He takes one more look at the folder, at the photo of Strange, a heavyset bald man with a scraggly black beard that is somewhere in thickness between C. Everett Koop's and Robert Bork's. When did it become fashionable to have beard without mustaches again?
Knox takes the folder and adds it to the stack he keeps for his trips to the Bar. Maybe he can read that article again later.
