The Joker stood in an alley between Rite Aid and a gas station. A rusty chain link fence with dying shrubbery threaded through separated the two places and he leaned against it. It bent to his weight slightly and let out a dull groan. He glared at the cell phone in his hand and willed Harley to call him back. Or answer. Or pick up and hang up. Give him some sort of acknowledgment and the fact that she was flat out ignoring him made him furious...until a thought came to mind. Maybe she couldn't answer. Maybe she was hurt. It was entirely out of character for her to do something like this. Harley was devoted in a way that bordered obsessive and they both knew it. The joker flourished in the attention she so completely gave.
So maybe she'd been killed. The idea made him uncomfortable and he flipped open the phone again, finding her number easily in the address book. It was filed under 'mine'. As obsessed as she was with him he was equally as obsessed, but in a different way. His was more subtle and controlled, missed if you didn't squint.
He pressed the phone to his ear as his eyes scanned the area around him. He was always alert. Always aware of his surroundings. He watched his men in an old and inconspicuous silver Toyota without them realizing. They we being loud and obnoxious and the Joker could tell, even through rolled up windows, that they were bragging about the heist. This would need correcting soon. The fact that he was too tied up with woman drama to handle buisness irritated him all the more. He would have to get rid of another one of his crew to set an example but that wouldn't be too much of a problem. People were easy to recruit, easy to convince. And the Joker was fairly good with persuasion.
Harley didn't answer. Clearly he'd have to find her the hard way.
He skulked out of the alley and opened the backdoor of the car, the men's laughter filled the air, and he slammed it shut behind him. They lowered their voices and regarded him tensely. That was part of the Joker's charm. He was intimidating without trying. They watched him reach into his inner lapel and place a lightweight handheld gun to the top of the driver's head, aiming down- making sure not to touch him. He held it there for a moment to see if he'd notice. But the man kept on chewing his gum, gazing out into nothing in particular from his window. He didn't even realize how quiet the car had become.
Joker pulled the trigger.
Nothing could be heard beyond the confines of their space due to the silencer installed at the tip. And it wouldn't matter anyway because noone was around. Everyone had scrambled to the bank to see the commotion or try to get their face on the news cameras. People were so predictable.
"Now that that's settled," Joker began, enjoying how squeamish the fellow in the passenger seat was becoming, his face tinged grey at the site of the body.
"The shares become increased with every person that decides this just isn't for him." He gestured towards the driver who's head lay on the steering wheel. "One less mouth to feed.."
He waited for reaction. They were all solemn except for the burley Italian who had been trying to break into the mob for years. His family wasn't born into it and the men didn't respect his groveling, though they used him as bait on several occasions. He ran on the excitement of a murder, mainly, and he was eager for any job the Joker assigned. He'd been on the Joker's team from the beginning. Now he sat smiling while the other's carefully controlled their emotions, unsure of what the Joker wanted. Scared of his hair trigger mentality.
"I don't want to keep rehashing the rules. You're all fairly smart." He was using the term lightly. He wasn't looking for intelligence when taking people on, only that animalistic quality that made for good henchmen. "But just incase..." He smiled, "No discussing what happened" The Joker's tongue darted out at the scars on his mouth and they all noticed.." Even with each other. Talk makes me itchy and want to stab people's wives and friends. After I've blown their brains all over the dashboard, of course."
The Italian looked as though he might laugh but wisely held his tongue. Everyone else kept their eyes lowered, the threat to loved ones noted..
"Ok, so...Constantine...move Jebediah out of the way and let's go." Joker said to man in front of him. He wasn't good at remembering names- that or he just didn't care. Either way, making up long and complicated ones instead amused him greatly
"Where do I put him?" The man he'd nicknamed 'Constantine' asked, nervously picking at his sleeves.
"Out the door. On the sidewalk.." The Joker tapped on the window with his gun.
One of the men made a move to help 'Constantine' but the Joker motioned him back down with a distracted hand. Watching him struggle with a body while attempting to control the vomit that was clearly threatening its way up his throat, was his idea of a good time.
Once 'Jebediah' was left on the sidewalk, he climbed carefully into the driver's seat, painfully aware of how wet it was beneath him. He took a deep breath and started the engine, eyes concentrating on the road in front of him and nothing else.
The ride was silent. Satisfied, Joker put the gun away and replaced it with his cell phone. No missed calls. Well, of course, he had the ringer on. He would have heard her call and he would have stopped mid-kill to answer it. Skimming quickly through it's settings, he found what he was looking for. A tracking device downloaded onto both phones so he'd always know where she was.
It didn't take long before he discovered her location and was almost giddy at the news.
"Change of plans." He announced to all of them, "Drive to 18 Grant Road. Near the bus station."
She was with Chad. It was the perfect excuse to get rid of him for good and make yet another example today. A perfect way to tighten the proverbial lease he had around her. She wouldn't do this again.
