CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Freaktown
"Hey Samantha, let me in. This is important."
Samantha stood on the other side of her motel room and eyed the door suspiciously.
"Umm, nope," she answered, gripping the butt of her revolver. "Tell me through the door. Sorry but I don't open up for anyone but Gordon."
An impatient snort. "You know who I am. Detective Nash! Remember me?
"Yeah but I'm still not letting you in. Tell you what, how about I call Gordon? You know, to make sure this little visit of yours is on the up and up."
Dr. Crane let out a frustrated hiss and Nash glared at him.
"He doesn't know but go ahead," Nash answered. "All I wanted to do is warn you about some strange men hanging around the motel. We think they might be the Joker's guys. When you call him be sure and tell him, okay?"
"Sure thing." She didn't sound like she believed him.
"Hey I tried," Nash told Crane as they walked away. "So she's not dumb. What do you want from me?"
"I want results. You should have had the phone line to her room cut before we came. You should.........."
"Look," Nash spun around at the smaller man. "You were the one in a big rush to get to her. See where rushing gets you? If you want my opinion you should let this be. Come to think of it the clown probably is having her watched. Do you really want him back on you? Do you? Because I don't."
"He won't do anything to me. Our score is settled," Crane answered arrogantly. "He and I are old friends."
"Oh....okay. That changes everything. That guy doesn't have friends and he'd kill you in a second if you piss him off. Don't be an idiot."
Crane shrugged, the gesture elegant and completely at odds with his mutilated face. "You don't understand Detective. Of course someone like you wouldn't. But it's fine. I'll take care of this another way. She can't hide in there forever. Consider yourself dismissed from this job."
"I better still get my payment."
"As promised," the doctor assured him. "And I trust you'll keep quiet about this, right Detective?"
Crane offered him a patronizing smile and then ambled off into the night.
"Gotham is turning into a goddamn freaktown." Nash muttered to himself as he watched the doctor's figure recede.
Not far away eyes watched the two men intently. When Crane walked away the Joker giggled.
"Ya look a little...disheartened," he taunted. "Plans not work out?"
Of course they couldn't hear him but he felt the need to gloat. Actually they should be happy, because if they'd made it into Sam's room things would have gotten messy. Quite messy.
Crane was too eager, he decided. And the cop, all he wanted was money. They were both too wrapped up in their own little worlds to notice their every move was being scrutinized.
The cop stood in the motel's parking lot for a minute, staring after Crane. The Joker's eyes scanned the area for a moment. No one around.
"Get him," he looked at his two thugs and jerked his thumb at the cop. "We're gonna take him for a little, um, ride."
They obeyed, slipping out of the sedan quietly and making their way to the cop under cover of shadows. By the time he knew he was in danger it was too late, one of the thugs had hit him over the head and taken his service gun.
They pulled him, stunned but still cursing furiously, to the car and threw him in the backseat with the Joker.
"Let's go home." The Joker told the man driving, smirking at the word home, and they were off.
He turned to regard Nash, who was looking at him with dread and revulsion on his face.
"Sooo Detective," he said pleasantly. "Been busy tonight? Hm? 'Cause I've been watching you with your, ah, friend." He leaned in closer, smiling. He knew the effect it had on people and this cop was no exception. The man cringed without seeming to realize it.
"You know....you shouldn't associate with people like that," the Joker continued. "They'll get you in trouble. Lots and lots of....trouble."
Detective Nash stared at him, saying nothing. It was sinking in, the Joker figured. He was coming to the realization that he was well and truly fucked. Any second now he'd start the begging and wheedling, trying to wriggle out of his fate. And that was the best part. Well, one of the best parts.
He needed some fun. Some release. When he got him back to the warehouse he'd take his time with him. And in the end he'd find out why Scarecrow was skulking around Sam's motel and he'd get the enjoyment of inflicting pain. When he was torturing someone he could see himself reflected in their faces. How everyone saw him. The truth of it all after all these years. He used to wonder what they saw when they looked at him but after the incident the question was answered. Yes he was a monster and a freak and yes he liked it. All those emotions flitting through their glassy eyes, the pleas dying in their bloody mouths like so many hollow promises. Ah, the glorious chaos of knowing you would die and knowing you could do nothing to stop it.
He'd felt that way himself.
Yes he liked it. He savored it. It got him hard, although he'd never admit it to anyone, could barely admit it to himself. Sam knew though. It infuriated him that she'd figured it out. Those strange green-yellow eyes looking at him serenely. I know exactly what you are.
He supposed that was one of the reasons she was currently holed up in a motel room and not with him. Understandable. He was not an unreasonable man. Didn't stop him from wanting to break the door down and talking some sense into her. As if that would work. Not only was she stubborn but she resisted control. Always had been that way.
He thought of the night he'd broken into her house and how she'd slapped him.
Why had she done it? He frowned, trying to remember. Oh, right. After he'd cut himself she'd went to his house looking for him. Of course she didn't find him, but she did blunder across his tools. And she'd broken down crying, with him watching her the whole time, unbeknownst to her. She'd been furious when she found out.
He grinned to himself.
"Look," the cop said. "I don't know much. If you promise to let me go I'll tell you what I do know."
The Joker looked over at him, annoyed at having his thoughts interrupted. "I know you'll tell. Believe me, I'm not worried about it. Not at all. You'll tell me everything and probably make up a few, um, lies too. Just to make it stop."
He licked his lips, tongue lingering on the corners of his mouth where his scars began. Bad habit he knew but they just felt so damn good underneath his tongue. Foreign yet familiar. It took them forever to heal for the mere fact he simply couldn't leave them alone. For some reason this made him think of Samantha and doing certain....things to her. This irritated him and he narrowed his eyes at Nash, trying to keep himself on the task at hand.
Nash squirmed closer to the door, obviously wanting to jump out of the car. The Joker couldn't believe he was just now thinking of doing it.
"Ah ah ah, don't you move," he admonished. "I bet I'm a little, uh, faster than you." He lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret with a friend. "If ya move, if I even see your hand get close to that door handle I'll do something to you that you won't like. And that's a promise. So just enjoy the ride. Hm? It's almost over."
Nash seemed to deflate, his body going limp, his eyes dulling.
Ah there it is. There went the hope. That never gets old!
Maybe tonight, when he was done with Nash, he'd be able to conk out. Never big on sleep, he'd found it even harder to come by since she'd left.
Her again. He bet she was sleeping like a baby. Probably all pilled up and dreaming of who the fuck even knew what. She'd always slept like the dead and it had always made him envious.
Here's an idea. Stop thinking about her. Let her cower in her little room. She'll be back. She'll always be back. Until then do what you do best. Starting with this cop.
He nodded to himself. Best idea he'd had all night.
