"Harley, Commissioner Gordon would like a word with you," said Ricky.
It was the first thing he had said since the previous evening at Ace Chemicals. They had driven home in silence, and gone to sleep in separate rooms – Harleen in the bedroom, and Ricky on the sofa. The next day, Ricky had left for work without a word, and Harleen hadn't left the bedroom, or indeed, the bed. She lay there, as she had all night, sometimes sobbing loudly in agony, and sometimes crying silent tears. She couldn't focus on anything else except the pain at the realization that the man she loved was dead. She saw him falling down, down, down in front of her eyes every time she shut them. She saw him being swallowed up by that horrible green goo. It must have been a terrible way to die, choking on those toxic chemicals while you gasped for breath, acid swarming down your throat and burning your lungs. Harleen couldn't bear to imagine what Jack must have felt in his last moments. But she also couldn't help it.
Ricky had given her the message through the door, and Harleen managed to pick herself out of bed and head over to it, unlocking and opening it. "Why?" she asked, quietly.
"He wants to know…how intimately you were involved with the Valestra gang," murmured Ricky. "You might have to…be tried as an accomplice."
Harleen smiled without humor. "The only member of the Valestra gang I was intimately involved with was Jack," she retorted. "And he's dead. My association with them went no further than that, and now, thanks to you, it's at an end."
"He'd still like to question you," said Ricky, grabbing the door before she could shut it. "It's not a request, Harley."
"Are you going to arrest me?" she asked. "Why bother? Why not just murder me by kicking me into some chemicals instead? Isn't that your usual method of dealing with criminals?"
"You're not a criminal, Harley," retorted Ricky. "You're innocent until proven guilty. The comish just wants to establish that innocence."
"Seems to me if I have to defend myself just because I loved a guy, I'm guilty until proven innocent," muttered Harleen. "At least by association."
"Are you coming, or are you going to make me arrest you?" asked Ricky. "What do you think your parents would say about that?"
"What do you think they're gonna say when they find out you murdered my gangster lover?" demanded Harleen.
"Obviously they're not going to find out that you had a gangster lover," retorted Ricky. "He's gone, and we're just going to forget the whole horrible affair ever happened and just continue on as planned."
"I'm not marrying you, Ricky," snapped Harleen. "Not after what you've done."
He was silent. "Maybe…you'll change your mind about that, in time," he murmured. "Now are you coming willingly?"
Harleen shrugged. "I think I'd prefer to be arrested. I think it's what Jack would have wanted, if you hadn't killed him. He was always a fighter. I wanna be one too, in his memory."
Ricky said nothing, but reached for his handcuffs. "Ok, then. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Let's go."
He slapped the handcuffs on her wrists and then dragged her down the stairs to the car. They were silent on the drive to the station, and when they arrived, Ricky escorted her out in handcuffs.
The officers stared at them in astonishment as they entered the building. "Harley?" asked Detective Bullock, puzzled. "What the heck is going on?"
"She's under arrest, Harvey," snapped Ricky. "Under suspicion of aiding and abetting the late Jack Napier."
"What?" said Bullock, his confusion deepening. "She didn't even know Jack Napier. And she's your fiancee!"
"Not anymore, Harvey," murmured Harleen. "And I did know Jack Napier. I loved Jack Napier. That's what I was doing at the raid – I wanted to make sure nothing happened to him. And now he's dead, thanks to my ex-fiance."
Bullock just gaped at them, and then shook his head. "You think you know a gal," he muttered, returning to work. "Guess it's always the quiet ones."
Harleen was led into the interrogation room, where Sal Valestra and the man she recognized as Buzz sat with another fat man. They stared at her in confusion.
"Who the hell is this?" asked Sal, turning to Gordon.
"She's unfamiliar to you?" asked Gordon.
"I'll say she is – never laid eyes on her before in my life," retorted Sal. "I mean, she's easy on the eyes, that's for sure. You know trying to bribe me with women won't make me talk, right?"
"It might make me," spoke up the fat one.
"Shut up, Chuckie!" snapped Sal, elbowing him.
"This is Dr. Harleen Quinzel," said Gordon. "She was romantically involved with the late Jack Napier."
Sal whistled. "Jack was batting outta his league, I'll say that for him. He musta had some kinda charm, I guess."
"Lucky guy," agreed Chuckie.
"Ain't so lucky now – he's dead," snapped Buzz, who had glared at Harleen from the moment she entered, rubbing his bruised nose. Harleen had clearly broken it with her elbow.
"There's no crime necessarily in being romantically involved with a criminal," continued Gordon. "Although I would certainly question the ethics of it, especially from an engaged woman. However, aiding and abetting a criminal is a crime. I was just wondering if Harley ever helped you guys out with anything illegal."
Sal shook his head. "I told you, I've never seen her before in my life. Unless one of you idiots got her involved with jobs behind my back and without my orders?" he asked, turning to Buzz and Chuckie.
Chuckie shook his head vehemently. Harleen saw Buzz eye her, and a small, cruel smile formed on his lips. "I did," he said, turning to Gordon. "She did some small time jobs for us, nothing big. Delivering the right kinda packages to the right kinda customers, if you know what I'm saying."
"Buzz, that was your job!" snapped Sal. "How dare you pass that off onto some strange dame? What do I even pay you for?! She coulda been a pig spy!"
"She clearly ain't," retorted Buzz. "Because they've arrested her. No, me and Jack got her involved with a lotta stuff, not all of it business, if you know what I mean," he said, grinning unpleasantly at her.
"You take it back, you filthy liar!" shrieked Harleen, starting forward. She was restrained by Ricky.
"If Jack was here, he'd tell you," continued Buzz, nodding. "This bitch likes doing bad stuff. That really turns her on, committing crimes, casual violence, kinkiness of all sorts. You shouldn't be fooled by her innocent appearance. She's a filthy, dirty, deranged psycho. If you don't believe me, just ask yourselves if that ain't the only type of woman who could have loved a guy like Jack Napier."
Gordon and Ricky shared a look. "Dr. Quinzel, in light of the witness's testimony, I'm afraid you will have to be put on trial with the rest of the Valestra gang," murmured Gordon. "Please escort her to a cell, Sorkin. And take these scum back to theirs," he said, gesturing to the Valestra gang as he left.
"Told you you'd pay for what you did, bitch," hissed Buzz, grinning unpleasantly at Harleen as the guards escorted them back to their cells. Ricky said nothing as he escorted Harleen to hers.
"You believe him, don't you?" asked Harleen, as Ricky unlocked the cell door and pushed her gently inside.
"I don't have any reason to doubt him," murmured Ricky. "You said yourself, I don't know you. You're not the girl I thought you were. You're something darker, something that could love a murdering psychopath. Why shouldn't I believe what he said?"
He shut and locked the door. "I'll try and tell your parents as gently as I can," he said, quietly. "Before the papers can. Those parasites at the press are gonna lap up a story like this. Pretty, innocent-looking woman, engaged to a cop, but with a horrible, dark side. I'd advise not giving any interviews."
He turned and walked away without another word, leaving Harleen alone in her cell. She looked around at the cold, bare room, and then sat down on the hard bed, head in her hands.
She knew if it came to a trial, the jury would be dead set against her, especially if the media had anything to say about it. If they could establish her as the cold, heartless woman Buzz had described, a woman who had taken advantage of her police officer fiance while dallying with a cop killer, then the jury would be heartily recommending the full weight of the law to be brought down on her shoulders. Hell, a good lawyer could make her take the blame for the cop deaths during the raid - they would say she had advanced information about it from Ricky, and she had been the one to warn the gang the cops were raiding them so they were prepared. She could be found guilty of second-degree murder of police officers.
She raised her head suddenly as an idea struck her. Unless she could get off on some kind of insanity plea. She was a psychiatrist, after all – she knew how to play the system in terms of insanity. If she could convince the jury she was insane, she would at worst be sent to Arkham, and that wouldn't be so bad. At least she had friends there, most of them patients.
But another half of her didn't want to even attempt that. Another half of her wanted to just give up, and let the jury do their worst to her. If they wanted her dead, it couldn't be any worse than her life would be without Jack. She wasn't sure how much longer she could live with the pain of his death haunting her every waking moment.
Unfortunately prisons tended to be on guard in case of suicide attempts. But people had committed them before, and Harleen was sure, if the time came, she could accomplish it. But she had resolved to be a fighter, for Jack's sake. So she would fight the justice system first, and try to win the insanity plea. And if that didn't work…
"At least Jack and I will be together again," she murmured. "Wherever he is now."