Riddled With Bullets
Chapter Six
"What's Green And Locked Up?"
"Edward Nygma!"
The siege on the door continued, Reese was on the point of kicking it down, when the concierge produced the room key.
Standing back whilst the door was unlocked Reese stifled a yawn, it had been a long night and looked like it was about to get even longer.
Once he had got off the boat, Reese had been instantly recognised by his colleagues who were waiting to take witness statements. And after telling them everything he could (leaving out any reference to Huntress) he got a ride back to the precinct. A decision that upon later reflection Reese had to admit had been a big mistake, he had forgotten he was still wearing his tux! Needless to say, McNally and co had a field day with every 007 joke they could come up with.
Reese was grateful for one thing though McNally had covered his ass.
"I told the Chief you called in saying you were feeling a little better," McNally stated after reminding Reese he was supposed to be off sick. "And that I told you not to come in on account of the fact that things were still quiet."
"Okay," Reese thanked him.
"The Chief's a little busy right now anyway," McNally continued, "looks like we're gonna go in and arrest Nygma."
Without another word Reese went straight to the Chief and after a little wrangling wound up leading the arrest.
"Edward Nygma!" Reese barked again at the comatose figure slumped on the couch.
"Wha.?" The figure tried to get up.
"Are you Edward Nygma?" Reese continued, "also known as The Riddler?"
The bedraggled figure on the couch seemed to indicate that he was.
Reese noted that coincidentally Nygma was also wearing a tux. The figure on the couch let out a long sigh, Reese noted that his breath stank of alcohol.
"Edward Nygma I'm arresting you on suspicion of Murder, Armed Robbery."
But if Nygma heard the rest he gave no indication. He simply turned back over and resumed his drunken slumber.
Reese didn't bother to read the rest of the charges he stood back whilst the two uniforms he had brought with him helped Nygma to his feet.
Reese turned to the concierge still peering curiously from the doorway.
"Can we get some coffee up here?" He asked, "enough for two."
*****
The face of the New Gotham Clock Tower was still boarded up. And shards of shattered glass could still be found on the balcony even though it was almost a fortnight since Dr Quinzel's siege.
The telltale crystal like fragments glistened under the moonlight as Alfred busily swept a broom over the surface for the umpteenth time that week. Huntress carrying Dinah in her arms suddenly appeared on the balcony's edge.
Anyone else would've jumped out of their skin, but Alfred merely glanced up from his chore and acknowledged the girls with a smile.
"Miss Dinah's room has been prepared." He informed Huntress.
Huntress thanked the ever-faithful old man that she had come to think of as a surrogate Grandfather and took Dinah inside.
Barbara looked up from her book, "Is she okay?"
Huntress nodded, "I think it just wiped her out but yeah she's fine."
Barbara nodded and returned to her reading.
After having settled Dinah in for the night Huntress returned to the main room, which served as their operations centre. She noted that Barbara was still reading her book.
"No sign of Reese?" Huntress/Helena enquired.
"He's at the precinct," Barbara informed her.
Reese was still wearing his com link and Barbara (in between tracking the Riddler and guiding Huntress and Dinah,) had managed to listen in occasionally.
"He brought in Edward Nygma."
"What?" Helena's face was a picture of disbelief.
"You seem surprised," Barbara observed closing the book.
It was then that Helena noticed the books cover; it was of course Nygma's biography.
"Interesting read?" Helena asked trying to appear casual.
"It's typically over sentimental for a former public menace trying to reinvent himself as a loveable rogue." Barbara sighed, "I have to say though it's very well written." Barbara paused and looked squarely at Helena, "very informative in fact."
"I see," Helena replied a little tensely "so er.you don't think he's on the level?"
"Did you know that both Nygma and Dr Quinzel share the same attorney?" Barbara enquired.
Helena shrugged, "so?"
"You don't find that coincidence worrying in any way at all?" Barbara probed.
Helena began to pace "what I find worrying is your obsession over trying to nail some poor old guy who just wants to get on with his life!"
"Obsession!" Barbara spat out the word; "We've just put away a criminal mastermind who aside from the fact that she killed my boyfriend, was responsible for manipulating and engineering most of the major crime sprees that we have ever had to face. In addition to this she was a principal pschychiatrist at the institution where she is now detained, and from where Edward Nygma has just been released."
"Arkham Asylum is a revolving door," Helena countered, "that doesn't necessarily mean there's a connection."
"Dr Quinzel manipulates her patients, you of all people should know that! Did you ever wonder how Clayface managed to break out?" Barbara shrugged, "all those years in high security and he manages to show up at his son's heist? Just like that?"
Helena was visibly shaken by both the mention of Clayface (her mothers killer), and the reminder that she too had been a patient of Dr. Quinzel. Helena still blamed herself for the fact that she had willingly under the guise of therapy disclosed her past and the secrets of the Clock Tower to their archenemy.
After a moment Helena replied, "Nygma was paroled what does this have to do with him?"
Barbara glared at her, "okay, maybe something, and maybe nothing but at least I'm open to the possibility, I think a better question would be what has Edward Nygma got to do with you?"
"What do you mean?" Helena stammered.
"Does the phrase "Shark Infested Custard" mean anything to you?"
It was Helena's turn to glare. "Should it?"
Barbara just stared back, "Why don't you tell me!"
Helena was struck dumb; with an almost childlike quality she cast her eyes at the floor shifting her weight guiltily between feet.
After a moment Barbara opened Nygma's book, "allow me to refresh your memory."
"The best collaboration I ever had with a super villain was with Catwoman!" Barbara began to recite, " Throughout the years she was a very dear and sweet friend. And as her real identity is not a matter of public record, it is out of respect for her and her family that her confidentiality will be respected."
Barbara paused, "You know who you are, and if you ever read these pages just think of shark infested custard and smile!"
Barbara flung down the book.
"He is my Uncle," Helena explained through gritted teeth, "what do you want me to say?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Gee I don't know," Helena shrugged, "maybe it's because this is the way I expected you to react! People can change Barbara, my mother did, and I believe my Uncle Edward can too!"
"We'll see," said Barbara.
"Yeah," responded Helena, "now if you don't mind I'm heading off home, I have an early start tomorrow."
"This conversation is not over!" Barbara screamed as Helena headed for the door.
Helena switched off her com, "it is now!"
And with that she got into the lift.
A cough came from the direction of the balcony it was Alfred.
Barbara turned towards him. "Was I too harsh?"
Alfred shrugged, "perhaps a little."
"All these years she never said." Barbara paused, "what did she mean she has an early start?"
"Ah!" Said Alfred pointedly; "I believe she promised to assist Mr Gibson in the refurbishment of his underground drinking establishment."
Barbara sighed, "oh."
"If I may point out Miss Barbara," Alfred continued, "we all know The Riddler and what he is capable of, but I think only Miss Helena knows Edward Nygma."
"Meaning?" Barbara challenged.
"Meaning that perhaps Miss Helena's instincts are correct."
*****
"State your name for the purpose of the tape." Reese Barked.
The man sitting opposite confirmed his name as, "Edward Nygma."
"You understand why you are here don't you Mr Nygma?"
The man called Edward Nygma took a casual sip of the murky looking liquid from the Styrofoam cup in front of him, his face contorted in disgust.
"You know you really have to do something about your coffee here, take it from me the stuff in the asylum is freeze dried but even that tastes good in comparison."
"Mr Nygma," Reese tried again summoning every ounce of patience he could muster, "do you understand why you are here?"
"Oh I understand just fine son, one moment I'm asleep and the next I'm hauled in here on a trumped up charge. What I don't understand is why you still insist on stocking your beverage dispenser with the same cheap crap you've been using for almost twenty years! Nice tux by the way."
"You usually sleep on the couch?" Reese enquired.
"I was on my way to the bedroom but obviously I never made it," Edward Nygma gave a wry smile, "Besides it's nearer to the bathroom, anyway can I call my lawyer now please?"
"In a moment," Reese confirmed, "I notice that your also wearing a nice tux Mr Nygma, were you by any chance on "The Princess Rouge" tonight?"
"On her?" Edward Nygma feigned shock, "I've never met her!"
It was Reese's turn to smile, "It's a boat, or more accurately was a boat."
Edward Nygma looked puzzled, "Young man I have no idea what you're talking about, what happened did this boat sink?"
Reese nodded, "following a heist by someone dressed in green calling himself The Riddler."
"What?" Nygma's face was a mask of fury. "I want my lawyer now!"
Reese studied the figure in front of him. It clearly wasn't the same man he had seen on the "Princess Rouge" earlier that night. The man in front of him whilst not dissimilar was older, greyer, and slightly heavier. Nevertheless he decided to continue his bad cop routine and lean heavy.
"Looks like your gonna need one Riddler!" Reese snapped, "riddle me this, what's green and locked up?"
"Hell son, that bad cop routine of yours needs some work, it's not even close." Edward Nygma replied with contempt. "First of all if you know anything about me at all you would know that if I choose to commit a crime I let the whole world know about it!"
Edward Nygma paused. "The Princess Rouge you said?"
Reese nodded.
"I remember now, that's the fund raising boat, an invitation only affair right?"
"Right." Reese confirmed.
"And you want to know if I was there?"
Again Reese confirmed that he did.
"Okay Mr bad cop ask yourself this, if you were arranging an invitation only fundraiser on a secure boat out of town designed to deter any super villains from heisting the proceeds," and again Nygma paused, "WHY IN THE HELL WOULD YOU INVITE ME ALONG?"
Reese looked at his watch and stopped the tape, "let me show you something Mr Nygma."
A small television sat in one corner of the room. Reese had brought it in prior to the interview. He switched it onto the news channel still leading with The Riddler as their top story.
Again the bulletin segued through the same old footage and finished with the quote from the flagging rock star, "He had this long coat and this really cool gun, he was like.like The Matrix in Green!"
Reese switched the bulletin off.
"I'll ask you once again Mr Nygma were you on "The Princess Rouge" tonight?"
"No, are you charging me?"
"That depends," Reese responded, "If it wasn't you then where were you at the time? And can anyone corroborate your story?"
"Well I got a couple of questions first," Edward Nygma responded, "firstly "The Riddler" is now a registered trademark, so when you catch this wannabe fake I wish to sue for copyright infringement, defamation of my good character, and generally pissing me off, is that possible?"
Reese just looked at him, "What's your second question Mr Nygma?"
Edward Nygma frowned, "What is the Matrix?"
Reese just shook his head, "Man you really have been locked up for a long time haven't you?"
*****
"Miss Dinah."
Dinah stirred from under her quilt. Alfred was standing before her bed.
"Ahh good morning Miss Dinah," Alfred continued, "feeling better?"
Dinah was still a little woozy, and having checked the time on her bedside clock rather alarmed to see that it was only seven am.
"What are you doing here?" She murmured.
"Oracle has instructed me to help you prepare." Alfred explained.
Dinah noted Alfred was carrying a tray bearing the former butler's speciality "full English breakfast" containing sausages, bacon, egg, mushroom, English muffin, various condiments, and a pot of fresh ground coffee.
"Prepare for what?" (Obesity by the looks of it!) Dinah thought to herself.
"Your undercover mission with Roland Cameron," Alfred explained.
Dinah shot up from the bed sitting bolt upright. She had totally forgotten!
"You have a briefing with Oracle in thirty minutes." Alfred explained placing the tray on the bedside table. "Bon appetite!"
*****
Twenty-five minutes later Dinah was fed, dressed, and ready. She waited patiently for Barbara/Oracle to finish her phone call.
"So what did she say?" Barbara enquired.
"Not much," the voice on the other end responded, "just that she had to bow out this morning, that something had come up."
"Okay Gibson thanks." Barbara was about to hang up but Gibson continued.
"You couldn't let Dinah have a day off school could you? I've still got a lot of wreckage here and I could really use her telekinesis."
"I'm sorry Gibson Dinah's otherwise engaged for the moment."
"Well worth a shot." Gibson hung up.
Barbara and Dinah exchanged a guilty look; Gibson's business had been shut down for two weeks now since Dr Quinzell had trashed it. During which time Gibson had set aside his personal issues (he couldn't claim off insurance for damage to an unlicensed and therefore illegal underground bar for meta humans), and selflessly assisted in cleaning up the recent damage to the Clock Tower following the final confrontation with Dr Quinzell.
"I'll go down and help him after we bag The Riddler," Dinah confirmed.
Barbara nodded, "Okay you are Sarah Stokes, after you graduate you hope to study law at Harvard."
Barbara handed Dinah an envelope.
"Grades and references." She explained.
Barbara looked over Dinah's clothes approvingly, a smart dark business jacket, matching skirt, and white blouse.
"You need glasses!" Barbara added producing a small neatly styled pair in oval frame. "These have an inbuilt camera," she added, "can take still photographs and provide me with online visual footage."
Dinah's eyes started to glaze as Barbara went through the operating instructions.
*****
Peter Nashton woke up in a cold sweat following a fitful night of unrest full of disturbing dreams. He shivered as the cold morning air wafted through the makeshift cardboard barrier he had placed yesterday over his damaged window.
Through half shut eyes he fumbled around for his bed sheets realising that he must've kicked them of during the throes of one of his nightmares.
Clutching the sheets and blankets to his person Peter shuddered at what fragments of detail he could recall from his night of unrest. He had been dressed in green, and pursued; he remembered something about a boat, some cake and bullets. He had been firing the bullets and enjoying every minute of it. People had died.
Hell with it, Peter thought to himself, it was just a dream. He rolled over and shifted about until he was comfortable, his half closed eyes caught sight of something green, and nervously he rubbed them before taking a closer look.
A gasp escaped his lips and his eyes went wide with horror at what he saw.
There was a green trenchcoat top, trousers, and boots, all riddled with decorative question marks. And lying on top of this pile was a cane with a question mark shaped handle. All just as they appeared in the dream.
Except it wasn't a dream Peter suddenly realised, was it?
He was sitting bolt upright now.
Was it? Peter didn't know for sure the events of the past few days were fuzzy at best, a tear rolled down his cheek as nervously he cradled his trembling legs to his chest, and rested his chin on his knees.
And for some strange reason that Peter couldn't understand, he began singing in a low scared voice.
"I'm H.A.P.P.Y!"
"I know I am,
I'm sure I am
I'm H.A.P.P.Y!"
*****
Life for Dr. Quinzel had begun to get interesting again. As a category A prisoner she was forbidden contact with other inmates. Television, her sole window to the outside world, had gone a great way to breaking up the monotony and tedium of Arkham life.
In the privacy of her cell she was allowed to take off the dark shades used to safeguard against her mind control ability. She had to put them on whenever meals were brought in or if a guard, nurse, or Doctor required entry to her cell. Failure to comply meant that a powerful dosage of sleeping gas would be pumped through a vent in the ceiling.
Dr Quinzel was currently wearing the shades.
"Let's go Quinzel," the orderly barked from the open door of her cell. Behind him two burly looking guards armed with batons and tasers stood waiting to flank her on the journey through the corridor.
"But my next session with Dr. Leland is not scheduled until this afternoon." Dr. Quinzel countered, not wishing to appear to eager to leave the cell. "Not that I mind after all they are so entertaining." She smiled.
Dr. Leland was attempting to assess whether or not Quinzel was fit to stand trial. Dr. Quinzel on the other hand knowing the procedure, and fully aware that trial and conviction would get her a life sentence in a conventional jail as opposed to the more relaxed regime of the asylum took every opportunity to demonstrate to Dr. Leland that she was as nutty as a fruitcake!
"You got visitors Quinzel let's go."
Now that did surprise Dr. Quinzel, up until now Roland Cameron had been her only visitor.
"New Gotham PD." The orderly explained, "you don't have to see them not without your lawyer."
This was true; it would be best to lawyer up first. Talk to the cops with your lawyer present would be the sane thing to do.
Dr. Quinzel breezed through the door, "lead the way," she sighed.
*****
"Hi I'm Sarah Stokes."
The receptionist took a break from filing her nails and studied the well- dressed young lady in front of her.
"The work placement." Dinah tried again, but all she got back was a raised eyebrow and an "is that supposed to mean something to me?" look.
"From Gotham High?"
A light suddenly went on in the receptionist's head and the nail file dropped into her lap.
"Oh yeah, Rolly said you start today, he's with New Gotham PD right now, one of our clients was arrested last night."
Dinah nodded, "okay so where would you like me to start?"
The receptionist pulled an evil looking lopsided grin; "my names Sandra and I take my coffee with no sugar but lots of cream."
*****
The two cops in the waiting room shifted uncomfortably as Dr Quinzel breezed in. A flash of recognition passed over Dr. Quinzel's otherwise smug features.
"Detective Reese," she grinned pleasantly, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"This is my colleague Detective Wells," Reese gestured to the blonde lady sitting next to him.
"Of course it is" Dr. Quinzel smiled oozing sarcasm from every pore. "Nice wig!"
"Let's talk about Edward Nygma." Detective Wells returned with an icy stare.
"Succinct," Dr. Quinzel shrugged, "but what's there to say? I understand he was arrested this morning, perhaps you should be talking to him."
"A former patient of yours?" Reese queried.
Dr. Quinzel snorted, "No Nygma was Dr. Leland's baby. Are we done?"
She stood up to go.
Detective Wells stood up too.
"We haven't started yet. You had a meeting at Roland Cameron's office days before your arrest. People came and went the whole afternoon."
Dr. Quinzel began to laugh, "That's right they came I gave them their instructions and off they went!"
"What instructions?" Reese barked.
"Oh well that would spoil the surprise!" Dr. Quinzel smiled. "You see I wasn't sure if it would work, but the results have been amazing."
"If what would work?" Reese persisted.
"She means her mind control," Detective Wells explained, "That's right isn't it?"
Dr Quinzel nodded, "you know that's really good, have you ever thought of becoming a Detective?"
"So what's so special about this particular form of mind control?" Reese queried cutting in before Wells could reply.
Dr Quinzel sat down again obviously pleased to be asked.
"I told them what to do, but only to do it when they hear the trigger word, it's like post hypnotic suggestion." Dr Quinzel smiled.
"Are you saying that there are people roaming the streets waiting for the word from you to kick start some kind of crime spree?" Reese queried.
"Not necessarily from me!" Dr Quinzel laughed. "But I think I've said enough!" She gestured to the guards, "Take me back!"
Detective Wells held up her hand. "Wait! Just tell me one thing, why try and frame Edward Nygma? What did he ever do to you?"
Dr. Quinzel scowled, "Do? DO?" She slammed her fists onto the desk. "He called my pudding a Psychotic! He wrote it all in his book, and I wont stand for anyone.ANYONE SLANDERING MY PRECIOUS MISTER J!!!"
As soon as the voice was raised the guards were through the door. Tears rolled down Harley's cheeks as they dragged her away.
"THERE'S MORE TO COME!" She screamed, "ONLY I KNOW THE WHERE'S AND WHEN'S!"
Detective Reese looked at his partner, "heard enough?"
Detective Wells nodded.
"Let's go."
"I need to see Dr. Leland first." Wells countered.
*****
Dinah returned from a diner nearby bearing the requested beverage.
Sandra was on the phone.
"Oh she's back," She pulled the phone away for a moment, "just leave it there," and then resumed the phone conversation.
Dinah sat herself in a nearby chair. The door to Roland's office stood ajar. Sandra phone conversation droned on with whomever was on the other end, clearly not a business call.
"Are you kidding?" Sandra exclaimed. "Hey if you can get me an interview I'm gone!"
She paused listening to the other end.
"Well Roland's sweet and everything but lately it's been kind of weird, he's representing that Dr lady who turned the town crazy a couple of weeks back.Yeah that's her.Well she came in a couple of days before, without an appointment I might add.What do you mean stop her.I couldn't.she did something to my head.I don't know like I said weird. next thing I know I'm on the phone to a whole list of people asking them to come in.Old clients mostly, on the pretext that they may be able to claim compensation.I don't know what kind of compensation, personally I think it was just a ruse to bring them here.I don't know why."
Sandra paused to sip her coffee, she nodded to herself approvingly.
"Are you getting this Oracle?" Dinah whispered into her com.
"What's her desk like tidy or messy?" Oracle replied.
Sandra was looking at Dinah curiously.
"Excuse me where is the restroom?" Dinah queried.
Sandra gestured out to the corridor and resumed her conversation.
Dinah headed that way and likewise resumed her conversation with Oracle.
"It's a mess," she confirmed.
"Chances are her the notes on who she called may still be on that desk somewhere," Oracle explained, "See if you can grab them when she takes a break."
"A break from what?" Dinah sneered, "she hasn't done any work, I don't think she leaves her desk much."
"Then get her some more coffee," Oracle sighed, "she can't hold on forever."
*****
Back in her cell Dr. Harley Quinzel relaxed, the cursed shades were thrown on her bed. And she wiped away her tears. She knew they would restrict her phone calls and her visitation rights on the strength of what she had just admitted to. In a pathetic attempt to prevent her using the trigger words. But none of it mattered really; for starters it would never be admissible in court. And as she had stated, the trigger word didn't necessarily have to come from her.
During the long session in Roland Cameron's office they had called in a great number of his clients. Small time crooks most of them, and all received the same clear and concise instructions from Dr Quinzel, mostly involving the words "kill", "steal", and "laugh."
Knowing full well that like her precious "puddin" before her, she may one day be incarcerated and unable to personally "trigger word" her precious minions of chaos, Dr. Quinzel had taken the precaution of assigning dual responsibility for the mental detonation of her human time bombs.
It was amazing that you could for example exert mind control over one Peter Nashton, (a man who knows a thing or two about puzzles,) ask him "nicely" to masquerade as The Riddler, to closely follow the original Riddler's m.o. except kill as many people as possible along the way, and have lots of fun doing it too! Until of course they were either caught or killed.
Again simple, clear, concise, instructions!
But only to be activated when Peter Nashton heard the song "I'm H.A.P.P.Y." Until that time he could go about his otherwise miserable pathetic existence and forget all about ever having met Dr. Quinzel or Roland Cameron.
Yet even more amazing than that, was that you could manipulate the mind of Roland Cameron to dispense the trigger words on a stream of minions and have him not remember a thing about it afterwards! You could programme him to do it on designated dates and times throughout the forthcoming years. When these dates arrived Roland would suddenly feel compelled without knowing why, to visit a specified "human time bomb" and set him off.
Dr Quinzel laughed at the beauty and simplicity of it all. The best was yet to come! And the irony of choosing Peter Nashton of all people to be her puppet was all too sweet. If only she could be there to see Nygma's face, still thank goodness for television.
"You'll regret it Edward Nygma!" She hissed, "right up to the moment of your imminent death! Oh yes," Harley Quinzel mused, "the best is yet to come."
*****
"I'm afraid I can't do that!" Dr Leland stated, "It violates all patient doctor confidentiality."
"But your patient could be in danger." Reese countered.
"I can't just hand over his records."
"Dr. Leland," Detective Wells pleaded, "there may be something in those files that could help Mr Nygma, they will be returned as soon as possible and their access will be restricted."
"I'm sorry but that's my final word on the matter."
Reese and Wells decided to leave, Wells paused, to slam the door.
*****
So engrossed was Sandra in her conversation which had now gravitated onto men and their endless faults, that she failed to notice Dinah's return. Sandra was facing away from the now empty cup on her desk; a mental push from Dinah and it fell effortlessly into the nearby waste paper basket.
Dinah quickly sent over the full cup she had just bought and floated it over to where the old one had stood.
A moment later Sandra absently took another sip and continued to chat.
*****
"Hell with patient confidentiality!"
Reese glanced sideways at his "partner" he had one hand on the wheel steering through the Asylum's gateway, his cellphone was in the other.
"Okay," he acknowledged "good work." And hit end just as the blonde wig went flying past his head and onto the back seat.
"That was McNally!" Reese stated. "Nygma's alibi checks out, and with the admission we got from Dr. Quinzel I would say that leaves Edward Nygma off the hook."
He glanced over again, "can I call you Helena now Detective Wells?"
"Huntress!" She snapped, "I'm working!"
Reese sighed, "whatever."
"So where was he last night?" Huntress queried.
"Some place uptown called The Iceberg Lounge," Reese explained, "you know it?"
"Heard of it, never been there though," Huntress shrugged.
"Well anyway it's a night club and according to McNally, the surveillance shows Nygma going in and not coming out until the early hours. Apparently Nygma and the club owner go way back, and he swears Nygma was there all night."
"So you gonna release him?"
"Nothing to hold him on," Reese confirmed, "talking of nightlife how would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"
Huntress shook her head. "Can't" She said, "I've got plans."
*****
Chapter Six
"What's Green And Locked Up?"
"Edward Nygma!"
The siege on the door continued, Reese was on the point of kicking it down, when the concierge produced the room key.
Standing back whilst the door was unlocked Reese stifled a yawn, it had been a long night and looked like it was about to get even longer.
Once he had got off the boat, Reese had been instantly recognised by his colleagues who were waiting to take witness statements. And after telling them everything he could (leaving out any reference to Huntress) he got a ride back to the precinct. A decision that upon later reflection Reese had to admit had been a big mistake, he had forgotten he was still wearing his tux! Needless to say, McNally and co had a field day with every 007 joke they could come up with.
Reese was grateful for one thing though McNally had covered his ass.
"I told the Chief you called in saying you were feeling a little better," McNally stated after reminding Reese he was supposed to be off sick. "And that I told you not to come in on account of the fact that things were still quiet."
"Okay," Reese thanked him.
"The Chief's a little busy right now anyway," McNally continued, "looks like we're gonna go in and arrest Nygma."
Without another word Reese went straight to the Chief and after a little wrangling wound up leading the arrest.
"Edward Nygma!" Reese barked again at the comatose figure slumped on the couch.
"Wha.?" The figure tried to get up.
"Are you Edward Nygma?" Reese continued, "also known as The Riddler?"
The bedraggled figure on the couch seemed to indicate that he was.
Reese noted that coincidentally Nygma was also wearing a tux. The figure on the couch let out a long sigh, Reese noted that his breath stank of alcohol.
"Edward Nygma I'm arresting you on suspicion of Murder, Armed Robbery."
But if Nygma heard the rest he gave no indication. He simply turned back over and resumed his drunken slumber.
Reese didn't bother to read the rest of the charges he stood back whilst the two uniforms he had brought with him helped Nygma to his feet.
Reese turned to the concierge still peering curiously from the doorway.
"Can we get some coffee up here?" He asked, "enough for two."
*****
The face of the New Gotham Clock Tower was still boarded up. And shards of shattered glass could still be found on the balcony even though it was almost a fortnight since Dr Quinzel's siege.
The telltale crystal like fragments glistened under the moonlight as Alfred busily swept a broom over the surface for the umpteenth time that week. Huntress carrying Dinah in her arms suddenly appeared on the balcony's edge.
Anyone else would've jumped out of their skin, but Alfred merely glanced up from his chore and acknowledged the girls with a smile.
"Miss Dinah's room has been prepared." He informed Huntress.
Huntress thanked the ever-faithful old man that she had come to think of as a surrogate Grandfather and took Dinah inside.
Barbara looked up from her book, "Is she okay?"
Huntress nodded, "I think it just wiped her out but yeah she's fine."
Barbara nodded and returned to her reading.
After having settled Dinah in for the night Huntress returned to the main room, which served as their operations centre. She noted that Barbara was still reading her book.
"No sign of Reese?" Huntress/Helena enquired.
"He's at the precinct," Barbara informed her.
Reese was still wearing his com link and Barbara (in between tracking the Riddler and guiding Huntress and Dinah,) had managed to listen in occasionally.
"He brought in Edward Nygma."
"What?" Helena's face was a picture of disbelief.
"You seem surprised," Barbara observed closing the book.
It was then that Helena noticed the books cover; it was of course Nygma's biography.
"Interesting read?" Helena asked trying to appear casual.
"It's typically over sentimental for a former public menace trying to reinvent himself as a loveable rogue." Barbara sighed, "I have to say though it's very well written." Barbara paused and looked squarely at Helena, "very informative in fact."
"I see," Helena replied a little tensely "so er.you don't think he's on the level?"
"Did you know that both Nygma and Dr Quinzel share the same attorney?" Barbara enquired.
Helena shrugged, "so?"
"You don't find that coincidence worrying in any way at all?" Barbara probed.
Helena began to pace "what I find worrying is your obsession over trying to nail some poor old guy who just wants to get on with his life!"
"Obsession!" Barbara spat out the word; "We've just put away a criminal mastermind who aside from the fact that she killed my boyfriend, was responsible for manipulating and engineering most of the major crime sprees that we have ever had to face. In addition to this she was a principal pschychiatrist at the institution where she is now detained, and from where Edward Nygma has just been released."
"Arkham Asylum is a revolving door," Helena countered, "that doesn't necessarily mean there's a connection."
"Dr Quinzel manipulates her patients, you of all people should know that! Did you ever wonder how Clayface managed to break out?" Barbara shrugged, "all those years in high security and he manages to show up at his son's heist? Just like that?"
Helena was visibly shaken by both the mention of Clayface (her mothers killer), and the reminder that she too had been a patient of Dr. Quinzel. Helena still blamed herself for the fact that she had willingly under the guise of therapy disclosed her past and the secrets of the Clock Tower to their archenemy.
After a moment Helena replied, "Nygma was paroled what does this have to do with him?"
Barbara glared at her, "okay, maybe something, and maybe nothing but at least I'm open to the possibility, I think a better question would be what has Edward Nygma got to do with you?"
"What do you mean?" Helena stammered.
"Does the phrase "Shark Infested Custard" mean anything to you?"
It was Helena's turn to glare. "Should it?"
Barbara just stared back, "Why don't you tell me!"
Helena was struck dumb; with an almost childlike quality she cast her eyes at the floor shifting her weight guiltily between feet.
After a moment Barbara opened Nygma's book, "allow me to refresh your memory."
"The best collaboration I ever had with a super villain was with Catwoman!" Barbara began to recite, " Throughout the years she was a very dear and sweet friend. And as her real identity is not a matter of public record, it is out of respect for her and her family that her confidentiality will be respected."
Barbara paused, "You know who you are, and if you ever read these pages just think of shark infested custard and smile!"
Barbara flung down the book.
"He is my Uncle," Helena explained through gritted teeth, "what do you want me to say?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Gee I don't know," Helena shrugged, "maybe it's because this is the way I expected you to react! People can change Barbara, my mother did, and I believe my Uncle Edward can too!"
"We'll see," said Barbara.
"Yeah," responded Helena, "now if you don't mind I'm heading off home, I have an early start tomorrow."
"This conversation is not over!" Barbara screamed as Helena headed for the door.
Helena switched off her com, "it is now!"
And with that she got into the lift.
A cough came from the direction of the balcony it was Alfred.
Barbara turned towards him. "Was I too harsh?"
Alfred shrugged, "perhaps a little."
"All these years she never said." Barbara paused, "what did she mean she has an early start?"
"Ah!" Said Alfred pointedly; "I believe she promised to assist Mr Gibson in the refurbishment of his underground drinking establishment."
Barbara sighed, "oh."
"If I may point out Miss Barbara," Alfred continued, "we all know The Riddler and what he is capable of, but I think only Miss Helena knows Edward Nygma."
"Meaning?" Barbara challenged.
"Meaning that perhaps Miss Helena's instincts are correct."
*****
"State your name for the purpose of the tape." Reese Barked.
The man sitting opposite confirmed his name as, "Edward Nygma."
"You understand why you are here don't you Mr Nygma?"
The man called Edward Nygma took a casual sip of the murky looking liquid from the Styrofoam cup in front of him, his face contorted in disgust.
"You know you really have to do something about your coffee here, take it from me the stuff in the asylum is freeze dried but even that tastes good in comparison."
"Mr Nygma," Reese tried again summoning every ounce of patience he could muster, "do you understand why you are here?"
"Oh I understand just fine son, one moment I'm asleep and the next I'm hauled in here on a trumped up charge. What I don't understand is why you still insist on stocking your beverage dispenser with the same cheap crap you've been using for almost twenty years! Nice tux by the way."
"You usually sleep on the couch?" Reese enquired.
"I was on my way to the bedroom but obviously I never made it," Edward Nygma gave a wry smile, "Besides it's nearer to the bathroom, anyway can I call my lawyer now please?"
"In a moment," Reese confirmed, "I notice that your also wearing a nice tux Mr Nygma, were you by any chance on "The Princess Rouge" tonight?"
"On her?" Edward Nygma feigned shock, "I've never met her!"
It was Reese's turn to smile, "It's a boat, or more accurately was a boat."
Edward Nygma looked puzzled, "Young man I have no idea what you're talking about, what happened did this boat sink?"
Reese nodded, "following a heist by someone dressed in green calling himself The Riddler."
"What?" Nygma's face was a mask of fury. "I want my lawyer now!"
Reese studied the figure in front of him. It clearly wasn't the same man he had seen on the "Princess Rouge" earlier that night. The man in front of him whilst not dissimilar was older, greyer, and slightly heavier. Nevertheless he decided to continue his bad cop routine and lean heavy.
"Looks like your gonna need one Riddler!" Reese snapped, "riddle me this, what's green and locked up?"
"Hell son, that bad cop routine of yours needs some work, it's not even close." Edward Nygma replied with contempt. "First of all if you know anything about me at all you would know that if I choose to commit a crime I let the whole world know about it!"
Edward Nygma paused. "The Princess Rouge you said?"
Reese nodded.
"I remember now, that's the fund raising boat, an invitation only affair right?"
"Right." Reese confirmed.
"And you want to know if I was there?"
Again Reese confirmed that he did.
"Okay Mr bad cop ask yourself this, if you were arranging an invitation only fundraiser on a secure boat out of town designed to deter any super villains from heisting the proceeds," and again Nygma paused, "WHY IN THE HELL WOULD YOU INVITE ME ALONG?"
Reese looked at his watch and stopped the tape, "let me show you something Mr Nygma."
A small television sat in one corner of the room. Reese had brought it in prior to the interview. He switched it onto the news channel still leading with The Riddler as their top story.
Again the bulletin segued through the same old footage and finished with the quote from the flagging rock star, "He had this long coat and this really cool gun, he was like.like The Matrix in Green!"
Reese switched the bulletin off.
"I'll ask you once again Mr Nygma were you on "The Princess Rouge" tonight?"
"No, are you charging me?"
"That depends," Reese responded, "If it wasn't you then where were you at the time? And can anyone corroborate your story?"
"Well I got a couple of questions first," Edward Nygma responded, "firstly "The Riddler" is now a registered trademark, so when you catch this wannabe fake I wish to sue for copyright infringement, defamation of my good character, and generally pissing me off, is that possible?"
Reese just looked at him, "What's your second question Mr Nygma?"
Edward Nygma frowned, "What is the Matrix?"
Reese just shook his head, "Man you really have been locked up for a long time haven't you?"
*****
"Miss Dinah."
Dinah stirred from under her quilt. Alfred was standing before her bed.
"Ahh good morning Miss Dinah," Alfred continued, "feeling better?"
Dinah was still a little woozy, and having checked the time on her bedside clock rather alarmed to see that it was only seven am.
"What are you doing here?" She murmured.
"Oracle has instructed me to help you prepare." Alfred explained.
Dinah noted Alfred was carrying a tray bearing the former butler's speciality "full English breakfast" containing sausages, bacon, egg, mushroom, English muffin, various condiments, and a pot of fresh ground coffee.
"Prepare for what?" (Obesity by the looks of it!) Dinah thought to herself.
"Your undercover mission with Roland Cameron," Alfred explained.
Dinah shot up from the bed sitting bolt upright. She had totally forgotten!
"You have a briefing with Oracle in thirty minutes." Alfred explained placing the tray on the bedside table. "Bon appetite!"
*****
Twenty-five minutes later Dinah was fed, dressed, and ready. She waited patiently for Barbara/Oracle to finish her phone call.
"So what did she say?" Barbara enquired.
"Not much," the voice on the other end responded, "just that she had to bow out this morning, that something had come up."
"Okay Gibson thanks." Barbara was about to hang up but Gibson continued.
"You couldn't let Dinah have a day off school could you? I've still got a lot of wreckage here and I could really use her telekinesis."
"I'm sorry Gibson Dinah's otherwise engaged for the moment."
"Well worth a shot." Gibson hung up.
Barbara and Dinah exchanged a guilty look; Gibson's business had been shut down for two weeks now since Dr Quinzell had trashed it. During which time Gibson had set aside his personal issues (he couldn't claim off insurance for damage to an unlicensed and therefore illegal underground bar for meta humans), and selflessly assisted in cleaning up the recent damage to the Clock Tower following the final confrontation with Dr Quinzell.
"I'll go down and help him after we bag The Riddler," Dinah confirmed.
Barbara nodded, "Okay you are Sarah Stokes, after you graduate you hope to study law at Harvard."
Barbara handed Dinah an envelope.
"Grades and references." She explained.
Barbara looked over Dinah's clothes approvingly, a smart dark business jacket, matching skirt, and white blouse.
"You need glasses!" Barbara added producing a small neatly styled pair in oval frame. "These have an inbuilt camera," she added, "can take still photographs and provide me with online visual footage."
Dinah's eyes started to glaze as Barbara went through the operating instructions.
*****
Peter Nashton woke up in a cold sweat following a fitful night of unrest full of disturbing dreams. He shivered as the cold morning air wafted through the makeshift cardboard barrier he had placed yesterday over his damaged window.
Through half shut eyes he fumbled around for his bed sheets realising that he must've kicked them of during the throes of one of his nightmares.
Clutching the sheets and blankets to his person Peter shuddered at what fragments of detail he could recall from his night of unrest. He had been dressed in green, and pursued; he remembered something about a boat, some cake and bullets. He had been firing the bullets and enjoying every minute of it. People had died.
Hell with it, Peter thought to himself, it was just a dream. He rolled over and shifted about until he was comfortable, his half closed eyes caught sight of something green, and nervously he rubbed them before taking a closer look.
A gasp escaped his lips and his eyes went wide with horror at what he saw.
There was a green trenchcoat top, trousers, and boots, all riddled with decorative question marks. And lying on top of this pile was a cane with a question mark shaped handle. All just as they appeared in the dream.
Except it wasn't a dream Peter suddenly realised, was it?
He was sitting bolt upright now.
Was it? Peter didn't know for sure the events of the past few days were fuzzy at best, a tear rolled down his cheek as nervously he cradled his trembling legs to his chest, and rested his chin on his knees.
And for some strange reason that Peter couldn't understand, he began singing in a low scared voice.
"I'm H.A.P.P.Y!"
"I know I am,
I'm sure I am
I'm H.A.P.P.Y!"
*****
Life for Dr. Quinzel had begun to get interesting again. As a category A prisoner she was forbidden contact with other inmates. Television, her sole window to the outside world, had gone a great way to breaking up the monotony and tedium of Arkham life.
In the privacy of her cell she was allowed to take off the dark shades used to safeguard against her mind control ability. She had to put them on whenever meals were brought in or if a guard, nurse, or Doctor required entry to her cell. Failure to comply meant that a powerful dosage of sleeping gas would be pumped through a vent in the ceiling.
Dr Quinzel was currently wearing the shades.
"Let's go Quinzel," the orderly barked from the open door of her cell. Behind him two burly looking guards armed with batons and tasers stood waiting to flank her on the journey through the corridor.
"But my next session with Dr. Leland is not scheduled until this afternoon." Dr. Quinzel countered, not wishing to appear to eager to leave the cell. "Not that I mind after all they are so entertaining." She smiled.
Dr. Leland was attempting to assess whether or not Quinzel was fit to stand trial. Dr. Quinzel on the other hand knowing the procedure, and fully aware that trial and conviction would get her a life sentence in a conventional jail as opposed to the more relaxed regime of the asylum took every opportunity to demonstrate to Dr. Leland that she was as nutty as a fruitcake!
"You got visitors Quinzel let's go."
Now that did surprise Dr. Quinzel, up until now Roland Cameron had been her only visitor.
"New Gotham PD." The orderly explained, "you don't have to see them not without your lawyer."
This was true; it would be best to lawyer up first. Talk to the cops with your lawyer present would be the sane thing to do.
Dr. Quinzel breezed through the door, "lead the way," she sighed.
*****
"Hi I'm Sarah Stokes."
The receptionist took a break from filing her nails and studied the well- dressed young lady in front of her.
"The work placement." Dinah tried again, but all she got back was a raised eyebrow and an "is that supposed to mean something to me?" look.
"From Gotham High?"
A light suddenly went on in the receptionist's head and the nail file dropped into her lap.
"Oh yeah, Rolly said you start today, he's with New Gotham PD right now, one of our clients was arrested last night."
Dinah nodded, "okay so where would you like me to start?"
The receptionist pulled an evil looking lopsided grin; "my names Sandra and I take my coffee with no sugar but lots of cream."
*****
The two cops in the waiting room shifted uncomfortably as Dr Quinzel breezed in. A flash of recognition passed over Dr. Quinzel's otherwise smug features.
"Detective Reese," she grinned pleasantly, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"This is my colleague Detective Wells," Reese gestured to the blonde lady sitting next to him.
"Of course it is" Dr. Quinzel smiled oozing sarcasm from every pore. "Nice wig!"
"Let's talk about Edward Nygma." Detective Wells returned with an icy stare.
"Succinct," Dr. Quinzel shrugged, "but what's there to say? I understand he was arrested this morning, perhaps you should be talking to him."
"A former patient of yours?" Reese queried.
Dr. Quinzel snorted, "No Nygma was Dr. Leland's baby. Are we done?"
She stood up to go.
Detective Wells stood up too.
"We haven't started yet. You had a meeting at Roland Cameron's office days before your arrest. People came and went the whole afternoon."
Dr. Quinzel began to laugh, "That's right they came I gave them their instructions and off they went!"
"What instructions?" Reese barked.
"Oh well that would spoil the surprise!" Dr. Quinzel smiled. "You see I wasn't sure if it would work, but the results have been amazing."
"If what would work?" Reese persisted.
"She means her mind control," Detective Wells explained, "That's right isn't it?"
Dr Quinzel nodded, "you know that's really good, have you ever thought of becoming a Detective?"
"So what's so special about this particular form of mind control?" Reese queried cutting in before Wells could reply.
Dr Quinzel sat down again obviously pleased to be asked.
"I told them what to do, but only to do it when they hear the trigger word, it's like post hypnotic suggestion." Dr Quinzel smiled.
"Are you saying that there are people roaming the streets waiting for the word from you to kick start some kind of crime spree?" Reese queried.
"Not necessarily from me!" Dr Quinzel laughed. "But I think I've said enough!" She gestured to the guards, "Take me back!"
Detective Wells held up her hand. "Wait! Just tell me one thing, why try and frame Edward Nygma? What did he ever do to you?"
Dr. Quinzel scowled, "Do? DO?" She slammed her fists onto the desk. "He called my pudding a Psychotic! He wrote it all in his book, and I wont stand for anyone.ANYONE SLANDERING MY PRECIOUS MISTER J!!!"
As soon as the voice was raised the guards were through the door. Tears rolled down Harley's cheeks as they dragged her away.
"THERE'S MORE TO COME!" She screamed, "ONLY I KNOW THE WHERE'S AND WHEN'S!"
Detective Reese looked at his partner, "heard enough?"
Detective Wells nodded.
"Let's go."
"I need to see Dr. Leland first." Wells countered.
*****
Dinah returned from a diner nearby bearing the requested beverage.
Sandra was on the phone.
"Oh she's back," She pulled the phone away for a moment, "just leave it there," and then resumed the phone conversation.
Dinah sat herself in a nearby chair. The door to Roland's office stood ajar. Sandra phone conversation droned on with whomever was on the other end, clearly not a business call.
"Are you kidding?" Sandra exclaimed. "Hey if you can get me an interview I'm gone!"
She paused listening to the other end.
"Well Roland's sweet and everything but lately it's been kind of weird, he's representing that Dr lady who turned the town crazy a couple of weeks back.Yeah that's her.Well she came in a couple of days before, without an appointment I might add.What do you mean stop her.I couldn't.she did something to my head.I don't know like I said weird. next thing I know I'm on the phone to a whole list of people asking them to come in.Old clients mostly, on the pretext that they may be able to claim compensation.I don't know what kind of compensation, personally I think it was just a ruse to bring them here.I don't know why."
Sandra paused to sip her coffee, she nodded to herself approvingly.
"Are you getting this Oracle?" Dinah whispered into her com.
"What's her desk like tidy or messy?" Oracle replied.
Sandra was looking at Dinah curiously.
"Excuse me where is the restroom?" Dinah queried.
Sandra gestured out to the corridor and resumed her conversation.
Dinah headed that way and likewise resumed her conversation with Oracle.
"It's a mess," she confirmed.
"Chances are her the notes on who she called may still be on that desk somewhere," Oracle explained, "See if you can grab them when she takes a break."
"A break from what?" Dinah sneered, "she hasn't done any work, I don't think she leaves her desk much."
"Then get her some more coffee," Oracle sighed, "she can't hold on forever."
*****
Back in her cell Dr. Harley Quinzel relaxed, the cursed shades were thrown on her bed. And she wiped away her tears. She knew they would restrict her phone calls and her visitation rights on the strength of what she had just admitted to. In a pathetic attempt to prevent her using the trigger words. But none of it mattered really; for starters it would never be admissible in court. And as she had stated, the trigger word didn't necessarily have to come from her.
During the long session in Roland Cameron's office they had called in a great number of his clients. Small time crooks most of them, and all received the same clear and concise instructions from Dr Quinzel, mostly involving the words "kill", "steal", and "laugh."
Knowing full well that like her precious "puddin" before her, she may one day be incarcerated and unable to personally "trigger word" her precious minions of chaos, Dr. Quinzel had taken the precaution of assigning dual responsibility for the mental detonation of her human time bombs.
It was amazing that you could for example exert mind control over one Peter Nashton, (a man who knows a thing or two about puzzles,) ask him "nicely" to masquerade as The Riddler, to closely follow the original Riddler's m.o. except kill as many people as possible along the way, and have lots of fun doing it too! Until of course they were either caught or killed.
Again simple, clear, concise, instructions!
But only to be activated when Peter Nashton heard the song "I'm H.A.P.P.Y." Until that time he could go about his otherwise miserable pathetic existence and forget all about ever having met Dr. Quinzel or Roland Cameron.
Yet even more amazing than that, was that you could manipulate the mind of Roland Cameron to dispense the trigger words on a stream of minions and have him not remember a thing about it afterwards! You could programme him to do it on designated dates and times throughout the forthcoming years. When these dates arrived Roland would suddenly feel compelled without knowing why, to visit a specified "human time bomb" and set him off.
Dr Quinzel laughed at the beauty and simplicity of it all. The best was yet to come! And the irony of choosing Peter Nashton of all people to be her puppet was all too sweet. If only she could be there to see Nygma's face, still thank goodness for television.
"You'll regret it Edward Nygma!" She hissed, "right up to the moment of your imminent death! Oh yes," Harley Quinzel mused, "the best is yet to come."
*****
"I'm afraid I can't do that!" Dr Leland stated, "It violates all patient doctor confidentiality."
"But your patient could be in danger." Reese countered.
"I can't just hand over his records."
"Dr. Leland," Detective Wells pleaded, "there may be something in those files that could help Mr Nygma, they will be returned as soon as possible and their access will be restricted."
"I'm sorry but that's my final word on the matter."
Reese and Wells decided to leave, Wells paused, to slam the door.
*****
So engrossed was Sandra in her conversation which had now gravitated onto men and their endless faults, that she failed to notice Dinah's return. Sandra was facing away from the now empty cup on her desk; a mental push from Dinah and it fell effortlessly into the nearby waste paper basket.
Dinah quickly sent over the full cup she had just bought and floated it over to where the old one had stood.
A moment later Sandra absently took another sip and continued to chat.
*****
"Hell with patient confidentiality!"
Reese glanced sideways at his "partner" he had one hand on the wheel steering through the Asylum's gateway, his cellphone was in the other.
"Okay," he acknowledged "good work." And hit end just as the blonde wig went flying past his head and onto the back seat.
"That was McNally!" Reese stated. "Nygma's alibi checks out, and with the admission we got from Dr. Quinzel I would say that leaves Edward Nygma off the hook."
He glanced over again, "can I call you Helena now Detective Wells?"
"Huntress!" She snapped, "I'm working!"
Reese sighed, "whatever."
"So where was he last night?" Huntress queried.
"Some place uptown called The Iceberg Lounge," Reese explained, "you know it?"
"Heard of it, never been there though," Huntress shrugged.
"Well anyway it's a night club and according to McNally, the surveillance shows Nygma going in and not coming out until the early hours. Apparently Nygma and the club owner go way back, and he swears Nygma was there all night."
"So you gonna release him?"
"Nothing to hold him on," Reese confirmed, "talking of nightlife how would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"
Huntress shook her head. "Can't" She said, "I've got plans."
*****
