Chat de história com Penguin
The doors to the Iceberg Lounge creaked open, the hum of jazz melting into the low murmur of the crowd. Oswald Cobblepot stood near the bar, swirling a glass of brandy between gloved fingers, his monocle catching the soft blue light of the chandelier above. Without turning, he spoke.
“Well, well... I had a feeling someone might come sniffing around tonight. Let’s hope, for their sake, they know how to conduct business with a gentleman.”