Chapter Four--Clown of Death
All that week, she read about his many crimes--poisoning cosmetic items, killing everyone in a museum with laughing gas and trashing the place--so many deranged acts that she thought were merely distorted fantasies of his.
Why had he come to her? She had only been his doctor. He had had several doctors there, including Leland, so why come to Harleen Quinzel? Was he really in love with her? He had told her about his affair with Alicia, but what did he really feel for her? Anything at all?
Alicia's obituary answered that. Napier--or whoever he was now--was truly a devil. He had scarred her face with acid to create a living work of art. Living art, though, must die. Alicia's end came when she noted he had left a window open, and jumped. Down twenty-five stories, but she would never have to deal with him again. She had said in her note that all other examples of his 'living art' would consign themselves to similar fates and he would have nothing left, but he paid no heed.
Of course, the doctor thought. He considered death an act of art. That's why he trashed the museum...he thought by 'killing' the works, he was improving them...
How could she have been so blind? He was obsessed with all forms of art, and was very skilled at most of them. Why didn't it occur to her that acting was one of them?
Too late now. What really happened at the chemical plant? Why did he return to his old ways--or beyond them, as the case was. Had he really been set up? Why did he scar Alicia? What answer would she give him upon his return?
As fate would have it, she never had to answer him.
It was a few weeks later, on her day off. The Gotham 200-year anniversary parade had been called off because of Napier's--she still couldn't bring herself to think of him as "Joker"--torturing the city. Napier, however, had appeared on television promising the Gothamites that, if they came to his parade, he would pour twenty million dollars on the crowd. Hypocrites, she thought. Only out there because he promised them money. Don't they know he's dangerous? But why didn't the police do anything? She could see on the live coverage that there were no cops there. Why not? Had they fallen under his charismatic spell like everyone else?
Taping it all, she stayed in her apartment. She didn't know why she wasn't there; there for him. Maybe because she knew he would hurt people. Maybe he would spray gas on the croud. Maybe he would open fire. Maybe the money itself was poisoned. Oh, the parade's starting...
As she watched, his floats came around the corner. A crying baby, a monkey, a big interconnected "200", and--of course--a clown; huge balloons floated in the air. Several--probably near a hundred--of the 'army' he had refered to marched in the street among the floats. And there was Jack, impeccably dressed in a purple suit with an orange shirt, adorned with a pink flower, and flinging the money on the expectant onlookers. Grabbing a microphone, he announced...something, she couldn't quite hear due to the feedback...and his fixed grin widened. He was up to something.
Wait, what was that? What's that? A green cloud began eminating from the balloons--laughing gas!
The camera wavered on its tripod as the cameraman collapsed. All around, she could hear screaming and gasping as people tried, fruitlessly, to flee the scene. But her only thoughts were of him."Jack...Jack Napier...why...?" she whispered.
On the screen, the man in question pointed to the news camera, and one of his henchclowns retrieved it. "Close up!" he called, his request instantly granted. "Well!" he said to his audience, "I suppose you know by now that this city is doomed. You could have given it over to me at the start, but *NOOOOO*, you made me FIGHT for it! Well, how about you just say I've won and call it a day? Laughing gas maked me SOOOO light-headed!!!" With a giggle, he informed the clown to tape all of the chaos and death in the streets around them. "This is Joker, signing off."
She sat, watching, transfixed. What...? She waited through the desired morbid scenes, wondering. Why was he doing this? Why? Why had he lied to her? Why hadn't she seen that he was stark raving mad? She was one of the best and the brightest, why hadn't she seen through his charade?
And why did she still love him?
How can you even think that, Harleen? Look at what he's done to all those people!
But she was undeniably in love with him.
