Amber Larks was sitting inside a café that morning, sipping her usual coffee, and reading the newspaper. She didn't notice the man who was watching her so carefully. After she was finished with her coffee, she folded the paper carefully, and walked out into the New York sidewalk.
She looked up at the well dressed man of about 25, and ignored him as he turned away slightly so she couldn't see his face. She passed by him, her long scarf billowing out behind her in the chilly New York autumn wind and waited at the nearest intersection for traffic to pass.
The man walked up behind her silently but quickly, and scanned the oncoming traffic with his icy blue eyes carefully. He looked at the woman, and glanced at the sidewalks to make sure that there would be no one there to see him. The drivers would be distracted by the early morning rush to get to work on time.
His cell phone rang suddenly, and the woman started to turn around in surprise. He pushed her into the oncoming traffic with a quick and surprisingly strong shove. Screaming, the woman was thrown into the path of a taxi, and he looked horrified and shocked as she lunged back toward the curb. The taxi had barely missing her. The car came to a screeching halt. He walked quickly towards her under the guise of helping her, face a perfect mask of concern.
"What the hell was she doing? Did she jump out on to the street!" The driver half yelled as the man injected her quickly with a syringe that he had hidden in his blazer's sleeve. The woman was looking around, obviously dazed by her near-death experience. She gasped at the prick of the needle, and then passed out when the drug entered her bloodstream.
"Yes, it would appear to be that way. Most likely a suicidal." He replied, trying to force some distress into his voice.
"Then why would she try and crawl back?"
"Often people have second thoughts about dying when they are about to commit suicide." He replied calmly.
"Oh yeah? And who are you?" The cab driver asked suspiciously as he was getting out a cell phone.
"Jonathan Crane, I'm the Administrator of Riverside Asylum." The driver looked at him with a mixture of fear and disgust.
"That hellhole on 29th? Damn…" Jonathan narrowed his eyes at the driver's comment.
"Don't you have an accident to report" he said coldly. The driver looked slightly panicked at his tone, and dialed a number on his cell phone. Soon, an ambulance was screeching down the road. Jonathan turned away as they lifted the woman easily onto the ambulance, as he didn't wish for them to see his face. After it had left, he walked over to an expensive looking car, and got in. He called one of his contacts in the police department, and located which hospital the ambulance they would be taking the woman to. He parked near the back of the parking lot, and walked into the hospital.
"If you want to see a doctor, you'll need to fill this out first." A bored sounding woman said to him, handing him a large sheaf of papers without looking up from her magazine. He looked at the papers and narrowed his eyes slightly behind his glasses. The woman looked up after a moment and frowned at him. "What do you want?"
"I do not require medical attention. I must speak to your supervisor about a woman who was recently admitted here." The nurse looked at him with growing suspicion.
"Sir, first I'm going to need the name of the woman who you're talking about."
"Amber Larks." He replied. The man was losing his patience with the nurse, but he didn't let it show as she consulted her computer carefully. He knew that getting her out of the hospital would be one of the most difficult parts of his plan.
"Yes, we checked her in just a few minutes ago. Are you a relation?" The nurse asked him.
"I really must speak to your supervisor on this issue; I'm afraid it's a rather, delicate, matter." He said quietly. The nurse frowned at him, but hesitantly picked up her phone. He walked back to a chair in the waiting area and sat down in the semi-comfortable chair. He was pleased to see that the chairs, and waiting area in general, were much nicer at his asylum. He was still finding the faults in the room when a tall man walked into the waiting room, wearing a white doctor's jacket.
"Dr. Jonathan Crane! What a surprise to find you here. Please, let's talk on the way to my office." The doctor said warmly while opening the large doors again. Jonathan followed without expression. "So, what brings you here today?"
"Well, I was rather disturbed this morning when I saw a woman jump in front of a taxi with no other motive other than to end her life." Jonathan walked into a neatly furnished office, and sat down in a chair opposite a large oak desk.
"Suicide? That's original, using New York traffic to die. First time for everything I suppose…" The doctor said darkly as he sat down behind his desk.
"Yes, rather unfortunate. I would like to have her moved into my asylum, only for a few days of course, to observe her mental health, and provide therapy." Jonathan replied coolly. The doctor frowned at him.
"That usually isn't the way things work in this hospital. And who's to pay for this treatment? From what I understand, Riverside Asylum isn't cheap."
"Oh, that will not be an issue, Dr. Marcott; I truly feel badly about not being able to stop the poor woman before she jumped, so I will pay for her treatment." Jonathan replied calmly. He was slightly worried that the doctor wouldn't believe his story, as it certainly wasn't one of his most believable. He was very pleased to see Dr. Marcott smile warmly.
"Well, in that case, I suppose we could make one exception; assuming that Ms. Larks would be in the best asylum in New York…" The doctor said, still smiling. "But you really shouldn't blame yourself for what happened; you couldn't have possibly prevented it."
"Yes, I suppose…" He smiled inwardly at the Dr. Marcott's last comment. Oh, how naive some people are. But then again, the good doctor had no reason to suspect that the woman had not dived in front of that cab of her own will. Jonathan smiled kindly at the doctor. "I shall have a van dispatched to transport her to my facility. Will that be acceptable?"
"Of course. I'm sure that you remember the way out?" Dr. Marcott asked him.
"Certainly, Doctor." Jonathan replied. He walked out of the doctor's office quickly, and out the doors. He drove his car back to his Victorian style manor on Long Island. As he stepped out of the car, he looked up at the large windows and the brick walls of the home. It was really all that was left of his parents now that his father's asylum in Gotham had been shut down and the manor near it demolished a month ago. Jonathan sighed and walked quickly into the house.