Dr. Arkham was tired. Well. That was nothing new. He spent an hour and a half pacing up and down the room of his shabby rented apartment. These annual meetings with the Board of Psychology bored him to tears. He always looked for an excuse to leave a month early. Unfortunately, one did come.
His cell phone rang and he picked it up, knowing it was bad news. He could feel it.
"Hello? Yes. Yeah. Why? What? What? Mirrel? Are you sure..? That...that's terrible...Do you have any idea who...? Oh. OK. OK. Yeah. When? OK, I'm coming back, Jon. Huh? I can cancel it! This is more important...OK. OK. Bye."
Dr. Arkham closed his cell phone. He took a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. Tomorrow, no...today, he was going to tell the administrator that he had to go, devastating accident, colleague's funeral on Sunday, and he'd be on the next flight to Gotham. He checked the clock.
"Hello, yes, I'd like to book a flight to Gotham City...today...7 o'clock? I'll take it. Thanks, bye."
He poured himself a generous amount of scotch from the bar and picked up the phone again.
"Hello, Mr. Zelner? Yes, I have something important to tell you..."
