Museum Studies

Chapter 10: Adele Chester, Tape 2

Subject: Adele Chester Tape 2

AC: A large chai and, ohhh, one of those big oatmeal cookies. For here, please. Professor Strange! What are you doing here? Silly question. You're here about that article in Sunday's Gazette, of course. You wouldn't come all the way down here simply for coffee when this chain has a location every other block.

Strange: You are most perceptive, Ms. Chester. 'Architecture Behind Bars: The Second Vanishing of Cyrus T. Pinkney.' An innocuous title for such a provocative piece.

AC: I'm braced for my reprimand, but I think we'd be more comfortable if we took seats. What are you having? Whatever it is, put it on my tab and meet me at the table by the window, there.

Strange: Espresso with a twist of lemon peel. (Pause. Random ambient sounds of a coffee shop.)

Barista: Here you are.

Strange: Thank you. (Sounds of coffee shop, someone crossing a room.)

AC: Ah, this is much better, and friendlier, too.

Strange: That remains to be seen. Unless I am much mistaken, this premises was once a hat shop belonging to Jervis Tetch, the Mad Hatter, was it not?

AC: It certainly had a hat shop sign on it for the longest time, but a few years ago, the coffee shop moved in and it's been thriving ever since. Perhaps he sold it or is leasing it out.

Strange: Unlikely. He is mentally unfit to manage his financial affairs.

AC: Then he probably has someone legally empowered to act for him. Is it important?

Strange: Probably not, but he is my patient. I would not want him to be…taken advantage of.

AC: That is no more than I would expect of you. It's good that he has someone disinterested to look out for his best interests. Now I'm ready for my scolding. Read me the riot act.

Strange: Why do you suppose I am here to rebuke you, Ms. Chester? While I would be gladder if said article had not appeared, I am not incapable of objectivity. In and of itself, it was informative and not without interest and merit...However, having visited several of the sites in person in the course of planning my future facility, it seems to me that a great deal of graffiti must have been scoured away and several tons of trash must have been removed before a professional stager came in with the magnificent chrysanthemums that made, for example, the Cathedral and its grounds so much more attractive.

AC: Of course! Not to mention relocating several individuals who were squatting there.

Strange: And was it the Gazette who paid for these temporary transformations?

AC: No, it was done by volunteers from the Historic Preservation Society. The necessary supplies and hauling were paid for with donated funds.

Strange; The funds being donated by…

AC: The Museum and the Wayne Foundation. Father insisted on not simply matching funds, but giving more.

Strange: I see. Your joint interview intrigued me more than anything else. When last we spoke, you expressed doubt in your ability to talk him into negotiations with the city regarding a settlement, yet in the article he seemed, if not enthusiastic, at least willing to consider it. What changed?

AC: Well, there is nothing my dad likes so much as being ring-side for a good fight, the bloodier the better, except for money. So I pointed out that lawyers are not called 'sharks' for nothing, and one way or another, there would be plenty of blood in the water before the city either wrote us a very large check or decided it wasn't worth the bother, gave up, and redrew the line. After all, battles like these can go on for years and years and years.

Strange: The article presents your relationship with him as being more a friendship than a normal parent-child bond.

AC: The consequences of not meeting in person until I was for all intents and purposes an adult myself. Yes, Dad's my friend. Probably my best friend, in fact. Certainly my best male friend.

Strange: And your mother was barely mentioned, except as a former girlfriend of his who is, I quote, 'a very private person'. That strikes me as a heartlessly casual dismissal of the parent who raised you.

AC: But as I told you, my father was actually the better parent and in any case, it was Alma, our housekeeper, who did most of the raising. My mother and I…I don't think I feel comfortable talking about her with you yet. Let's talk about something else. I know! My father said that ten or twelve years ago, back before he reformed, you were actually prepared to auction off the secret of Batman's identity. Is it true? Do you really know who he is? How did you find out? Did you catch him with his mask off?

Strange: (Laugh) Nothing so melodramatic, I assure you. Let me say, rather, that while I know who he is, I arrived at my conclusion by the application of my vast knowledge of the human psyche and the myriad pressures dark forces that must necessarily have formed such a mind. There is only one man in Gotham City to whom such conditions applied, and he is Batman.

AC: How wonderful. I've often thought I could figure out who he is, if I applied myself to it, but I would take a rather different approach.

Strange: Really? (Chuckle.) And how would you work it out, Miss Chester?

AC: To begin with, Batman is male, Caucasian, with blue eyes, and allowing for the boots, between six feet and six and a half, roughly speaking. He also weighs two hundred pounds or less, I should say. That cuts out a great deal of the population right there. He's also under forty and unmarried.

Strange: I concede height, weight, sex, and race, but how can you be sure his eye color is not due to contact lenses? Or of his age and marital status?

AC: I met him once. Well, 'Met' might be misleading. 'Encountered' is more accurate. He was not wearing contacts, and his skin showed no serious signs of aging. As to his being unmarried—any woman in the world could tell that. In more psychological terms, though—a person who dresses up as a bat to go out and fight crime is not the sort of person to form a great many close attachments. 'He who has wife and children gives hostages to fortune,' after all.

Beyond that, then there's the problem of money. He can't do what he does and have a regular nine-to-five job. Therefore he must be independently wealthy, both because he not only doesn't need a job but because his toys, vehicles and gadgets must be ruinously expensive. He could be some Internet startup billionaire, but he's been at this for quite a long time and he's still youngish, so I'm inclined to think he inherited his money. I shouldn't be surprised if he was orphaned at a young age—a steadying parental influence would discourage such a quixotic shadow career. There can't be many men in Gotham to whom those conditions apply, and then there's—.

Strange: Enough!

AC: I'm sorry. You're angry. I'm sorry… What did I say?

Strange:…Nothing at all, I assure you. I see that I am late for an appointment, that is all. You beguiled me into forgetting it. Until we meet again, Miss Chester.

AC: Oh—Well—if you're sure…Goodbye.