gotham_knocking (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gotham_knocking) wrote2006-08-15 10:36 am
gotham_knocking) wrote2006-08-15 10:36 am
(no subject)
Knox suspected that this was where someone lived. He was in a room at the rear of stately Wayne Manor, small and a bit musty but not at all stuffy like the vast halls he’d seen on his earlier visits. There were a small couch, two armchairs, and an old coffee table. His best guess was that it was servant’s quarters once, and used still by the only servant, a man named Pennyworth. Pennyworth had escorted Knox in from his car, and then gone about his own business. The butler gave an air of a man who secretly knew himself to be superior to everyone but his master, but who never tell. It was a bit strange.
“Mister Knox?” After several minutes, Bruce Wayne arrived. He always had that same expression, one of mild confusion and mild bemusement. He was wearing a gray turtleneck and black slacks, looking like he was on his way to a ski resort.
“Hey, Mister Wayne. Thanks for seeing me.” Knox rose and offered his hand. And was quite surprised at the strength of Wayne’s grip.
“Vicki was rather insistent. She said you really wanted to interview me about the whole mess with the Mayor.”
“Yup. Everyone wants to know what his richest remaining backer has to say.”
“He doesn’t have anything to say, Mister Knox…Alex. You don’t mind if I call you Alex, do you?”
“Only if I can call you Bruce.” Bruce nodded, though Knox was not sure if anyone outside of Vicki ever called him that. He had an air of forced formality, of distance.
“I know you want an interview. Everyone does. And I think you’re doing a great job on the story. You and everyone at the Globe. But this isn’t an interview. It’s just a chat. So if you don’t mind not using your recorder...” Knox had reached for it. He could have still used it, made Wayne angry. But that wouldn’t help, was it?
“So why talk to me?”
“Like I said, Vicki can be insistent. But I told her what I’m telling you. I don’t give interviews. Not right now. My life is a bit…complex. And an interview would only make things that much more complex.”
“But don’t you feel you owe something to Borg?”
“Should I? He’s got his legal team, he’s got his supporters, he’s got things that I can’t give him. I’m just a guy with a lot of money who thinks he’s a good mayor. I go public with any kind of statement, in favor or against, and it just adds fuel to the fire.
“And a ‘no comment’ doesn’t?”
“You really plan to say I said ‘no comment’?” Wayne grinned wryly. He was more shrewd than Knox expected.
“I might. But it’s not much of a story, it is?”
“The story here is that I want to help Gotham City. Same as you, same as Borg and both Harvey Dents and even Max Schreck and his partners. Getting tied up in a political dogfight won’t let me help Gotham. When the smoke clears, then I’ll work with whoever is mayor and whoever is DA, and keep doing what I’ve started doing. Putting my money to work for the people.”
“I could tell that to the public.” Indeed, Knox was tempted to do so anyway, recalling the secret dictum of newsmen and PR men since the printing press was invented: There is no such thing as “off the record”. But odds are it would get him fired if it ran, and odds are Taylor would never let it run.
Wayne shook his head. “It wouldn’t really help anything. I could have my public relations people issue a statement if you like.”
”You are kidding, right?” Knox smiled at Wayne, knowing that Wayne really understood the game after all.
“Alex, I do sympathize. You have a job to do. We all do. But you’ll just have to do it without me.”
“Hey, at least you talked to me. That’s almost a scoop. You know how many people would kill to have even that.”
“I believe that Master Bruce’s offices receive an average of sixteen requests a day.” Pennyworth returned with a silver pot and two fine china cups. Tea was being served. How fancy after all.
“Maybe you want to be interviewed, Jeeves?” Knox wasn’t serious, but he wanted to see if he could make the butler blink.
“Alex, Alfred here is harder to get to than me. All requests have to go through me.” Alfred poured the tea, barely taking note of the conversation, or being called “Jeeves”. “I think he would just tell you that he doesn’t have any opinion on the matter, and that he really doesn’t pay attention to local politics.
“Not,” Alfred added as he left, “unless the locality is London. Good afternoon, Mister Knox.” Knox sipped his tea. Which was very good if you liked tea over coffee.
“Nice guy. Vicki told me he’s been here for ages.”
“Did she tell you anything else?” Wayne took his cup and actually extended his pinky!
“Only that she was planning on stealing the silver and hocking it to pay for her Kodak film habit.” Knox gave Wayne a smirk, trying to show that he really could handle Vicki and Bruce being together. “Oh, and she mentioned a trip to Florida.”
“Yeah, we both need a getaway. She needs something nicer than inns in Bucharest, and I need a few days without Gotham winter.”
“Why Florida?”
“Good swimming,” It was, Knox reflected, a strange question to ask. He knew that Bruce Wayne was not going down south to dine with the Mob. But he just needed to ask. Someday, he knew, that could get him fired.
“Sounds like fun. Bring me back a few oranges?” He was finishing his cup of tea, getting the sense that this royal audience was nearing an end. Wayne wasn’t tense so much as antsy. Still, it was time to go.
“Bruce, I think I need to be back in the city. But thanks for letting me in.”
“You’re welcome.” Wayne extended his hand, and Knox braced for a strong grip, but this time it was a bit less intense.
Alfred – he really seemed more of an Alfred than a Pennyworth - showed Knox back out. Leaving, Knox wondered what was really going on inside Bruce Wayne’s head. He was paying complete attention to Knox, and still seemed like his mind was somewhere else.
Oh, to be psychic, he thought, before deciding that psychic reporters are still going to need proof before running stories.
“Mister Knox?” After several minutes, Bruce Wayne arrived. He always had that same expression, one of mild confusion and mild bemusement. He was wearing a gray turtleneck and black slacks, looking like he was on his way to a ski resort.
“Hey, Mister Wayne. Thanks for seeing me.” Knox rose and offered his hand. And was quite surprised at the strength of Wayne’s grip.
“Vicki was rather insistent. She said you really wanted to interview me about the whole mess with the Mayor.”
“Yup. Everyone wants to know what his richest remaining backer has to say.”
“He doesn’t have anything to say, Mister Knox…Alex. You don’t mind if I call you Alex, do you?”
“Only if I can call you Bruce.” Bruce nodded, though Knox was not sure if anyone outside of Vicki ever called him that. He had an air of forced formality, of distance.
“I know you want an interview. Everyone does. And I think you’re doing a great job on the story. You and everyone at the Globe. But this isn’t an interview. It’s just a chat. So if you don’t mind not using your recorder...” Knox had reached for it. He could have still used it, made Wayne angry. But that wouldn’t help, was it?
“So why talk to me?”
“Like I said, Vicki can be insistent. But I told her what I’m telling you. I don’t give interviews. Not right now. My life is a bit…complex. And an interview would only make things that much more complex.”
“But don’t you feel you owe something to Borg?”
“Should I? He’s got his legal team, he’s got his supporters, he’s got things that I can’t give him. I’m just a guy with a lot of money who thinks he’s a good mayor. I go public with any kind of statement, in favor or against, and it just adds fuel to the fire.
“And a ‘no comment’ doesn’t?”
“You really plan to say I said ‘no comment’?” Wayne grinned wryly. He was more shrewd than Knox expected.
“I might. But it’s not much of a story, it is?”
“The story here is that I want to help Gotham City. Same as you, same as Borg and both Harvey Dents and even Max Schreck and his partners. Getting tied up in a political dogfight won’t let me help Gotham. When the smoke clears, then I’ll work with whoever is mayor and whoever is DA, and keep doing what I’ve started doing. Putting my money to work for the people.”
“I could tell that to the public.” Indeed, Knox was tempted to do so anyway, recalling the secret dictum of newsmen and PR men since the printing press was invented: There is no such thing as “off the record”. But odds are it would get him fired if it ran, and odds are Taylor would never let it run.
Wayne shook his head. “It wouldn’t really help anything. I could have my public relations people issue a statement if you like.”
”You are kidding, right?” Knox smiled at Wayne, knowing that Wayne really understood the game after all.
“Alex, I do sympathize. You have a job to do. We all do. But you’ll just have to do it without me.”
“Hey, at least you talked to me. That’s almost a scoop. You know how many people would kill to have even that.”
“I believe that Master Bruce’s offices receive an average of sixteen requests a day.” Pennyworth returned with a silver pot and two fine china cups. Tea was being served. How fancy after all.
“Maybe you want to be interviewed, Jeeves?” Knox wasn’t serious, but he wanted to see if he could make the butler blink.
“Alex, Alfred here is harder to get to than me. All requests have to go through me.” Alfred poured the tea, barely taking note of the conversation, or being called “Jeeves”. “I think he would just tell you that he doesn’t have any opinion on the matter, and that he really doesn’t pay attention to local politics.
“Not,” Alfred added as he left, “unless the locality is London. Good afternoon, Mister Knox.” Knox sipped his tea. Which was very good if you liked tea over coffee.
“Nice guy. Vicki told me he’s been here for ages.”
“Did she tell you anything else?” Wayne took his cup and actually extended his pinky!
“Only that she was planning on stealing the silver and hocking it to pay for her Kodak film habit.” Knox gave Wayne a smirk, trying to show that he really could handle Vicki and Bruce being together. “Oh, and she mentioned a trip to Florida.”
“Yeah, we both need a getaway. She needs something nicer than inns in Bucharest, and I need a few days without Gotham winter.”
“Why Florida?”
“Good swimming,” It was, Knox reflected, a strange question to ask. He knew that Bruce Wayne was not going down south to dine with the Mob. But he just needed to ask. Someday, he knew, that could get him fired.
“Sounds like fun. Bring me back a few oranges?” He was finishing his cup of tea, getting the sense that this royal audience was nearing an end. Wayne wasn’t tense so much as antsy. Still, it was time to go.
“Bruce, I think I need to be back in the city. But thanks for letting me in.”
“You’re welcome.” Wayne extended his hand, and Knox braced for a strong grip, but this time it was a bit less intense.
Alfred – he really seemed more of an Alfred than a Pennyworth - showed Knox back out. Leaving, Knox wondered what was really going on inside Bruce Wayne’s head. He was paying complete attention to Knox, and still seemed like his mind was somewhere else.
Oh, to be psychic, he thought, before deciding that psychic reporters are still going to need proof before running stories.