Chapter 2: Wild Card
Gotham. There was something noticeably dirty about it, as if the refineries and factories had tainted the entire city. Even the new architecture seemed dark and drab and coated in grime. As a stray dog, damp from the earlier drizzle, began to dine on a pile of nearby refuse, it raised its head for a moment then scurried into an alley. Seconds later a long black car streaked past, flames billowing from the turbine powering it.
Inside the car, Batman pressed a button on the dash. There was a beep and a small LCD monitor came to life. "Alfred."
"Yes, sir." Alfred's voice was soft and refined. It simply oozed class and dignity.
"I need you to look up a name for me…see if you can find anything on it."
"Ready when you are, sir."
"Jay H. Oaker. Is there anything about him in the computer?"
"One moment. No, nothing I'm afraid. Is he someone of concern, Master Bruce?"
"Apparently. He's been buying up large amounts of illicit drugs and heavy weaponry. At least, that's what my sources have told me."
"Sir, are you most certain that your sources are viable?
"Although not the most trustworthy, I'm pretty sure they were telling the truth…or at least what they thought was the truth. Keep looking, Alfred…let me know if you find anything."
"Certainly, sir. Please take care. The night holds an uncanny chill."
"That it does, Alfred." Batman pushed the button on the dash again, switching the display off. Jay Oaker. He hadn't missed the obvious reference to the Joker…but he was safely tucked away in the asylum where he'd been for nearly a year now since his last escape. Batman continued driving in the direction of home for a few more moments then, on impulse, spun the Batmobile onto a side street and headed for the asylum. Joker…if this is another one of your tricks… He left the thought unfinished and focused on the road ahead as the dirty landscape known as Gotham City streaked past.
Melissa Crowe was a regular gal with a regular job. Up until this night, she'd been of the belief that she had seen everything in Gotham City. Every attraction, every popular store, every concert, and she even bragged to friends that she'd seen every single super-villain in Gotham as they were admitted to the asylum. What made this night special, is that she'd never seen the Batmobile pull up to the front of the hospital and that she'd never seen Batman walk through the front doors.
"Can…can I help you, sir?" Either this was a soon to be patient who'd spent a lot of time and money on his costume and vehicle, or this was the genuine article…the Batman.
"I'm here to see Jack Napier." The voice. It had to be him. Melissa had heard stories about Batman and his piercing blue eyes and his rough, yet gentle, whisper of a voice. Besides that, who else would be crazy enough to request a meeting with Gotham's most notorious and deadly criminal.
"Uh…the Joker?"
"The same." He simply stood…waiting.
"Uh…hold on one moment, sir. Let me…uh…let me go check with a doctor." Melissa stood and ran from behind the receptionist area toward the lounge.
Batman smiled to himself. It was rare that he mingled with citizens while in costume. He actually derived a bit of pleasure from the reactions people had to him.
After a few minutes, a doctor peeked around a half open door. The doctor scanned the waiting area, and his eyes came to rest on the caped and cowled man sitting in one of the chairs. He had his legs crossed, was reading a magazine, and was dressed like Batman. "S…sir?"
"Hello, Doctor Hearns." Batman stood and placed the magazine back upon the coffee table that was piled with other periodicals. An older woman sat clutching her purse and staring at him in a mixture of fear and awe. "It was nice talking to you, ma'am." Batman bowed and walked toward the door which the receptionist and Dr. Hearns both hid behind.
"He's…he's in his cell, Batman. I'll have him brought to an interrogation room."
"Don't bother…his cell will be fine." Batman walked purposefully towards the back of the asylum, not bothering to wait for the Doctor.
Doctor Hearns followed Batman to the cell where the Joker was being held, and unlocked it for him. "Certainly I should have him restrained, sir?"
"That won't be necessary." Batman closed the cell door behind him and walked towards where the Joker lay. A green mop of hair and a straightjacket was all that could be seen of Joker, and Batman grabbed the bundle and turned it over.
"Hiya Batsy Watsy!" A cheerfully shrill voice proclaimed loudly. "Mista' Joka' said ta be expectin' you!"
"Harley…I should have known." Batman gritted his teeth in frustration.
"Yeah, Joka' said you'd say that, too. Maybe you don't really know what you like everyone ta' think that ya' know and ya' make everyone think that ya' do know? Ya' know? Do ya' like my jacket?"
Batman looked to the restraint on Joker's sidekick and noticed, too late, that it was just ever so slightly loose. A kick to the face reminded Batman of his foolishness in underestimating the woman before him. Harley raised her hands from inside the straight jacket and stood upon them on the floor, holding the asylum bed between her legs. With a flip, she launched it at Batman, and the headboard smashed him against the wall. Batman grunted and fell to one knee.
"Time for you to go nighty-night!" Harley flipped and landed near Batman, then launched a series of kicks. Batman managed to block one kick, but another landed to the left side of his skull. "Oh, come on, batty, you can do betta' than that!" Harley pulled off the green wig and tossed it to Batman, who snatched it from the air out of reflex. He was then thrown to the side of the room when Harley landed two feet to his chest in a drop kick.
Batman slammed into the wall and instinctively rolled away and up into a crouch. Harley had landed where he'd been lying, her feet stomping into the floor where his ribs had been moments before. Harley was now wearing her trademark jester's hat, complete with bells. She launched herself into another kick and, Batman, having his wits about him once again snagged her feet from the air and flipped her upwards, cracking her skull against the ceiling. She let out a squeak of pain, and flopped painfully to the floor in front of Batman.
"Ohhhh…" Harley moaned while clutching the top of her head. "When did the big top become the concrete top?"
"It's over, Harley." Batman took a step towards the prone jester when suddenly a plume of green smoke erupted around her. Batman instinctively held his breath and made his way to the cell door. His instincts screamed at him, and he raised a gloved hand in time to block a kick aimed for his head.
"Ya' can't fight what ya' can't see, batsy watsy!"
Batman closed his eyes and listened for a moment, then spun and thrust his leg out into a reverse kick. It landed solidly and Harley let out another squeak as the wind was blasted from her lungs.
"Yer' just not fightin' fair!" There was a rustle of clothing and a clatter of metal against metal, then footsteps down the corridor.
Batman moved out into the now smoky hallway where the doctor and receptionist were huddled together. There was no sign of Harley. The caped crusader ran back into the cell and grabbed the wig, then sprinted back outside.
Only the cold, wet Gotham night greeted him. Dirty, wadded white linens were the only sign that Harley had come out this way. Batman moved to the Batmobile and stopped for a moment. Someone had spray-painted "ASSWIPE" across the windshield. Batman stood thinking and finally gave up trying to solve the immediate mystery in front of him. Where did she get her hands on a can of spray paint so fast?
The night was cold and uninviting…Gotham had become its own labyrinth…a maze with many mice and each one with a different piece of cheese. Batman was frustrated, cold…and more important…hungry. This was going to be a long night.
As the Batmobile pulled into its spot onto the turntable, Alfred stood waiting, serving tray in hand.
Batman climbed out of his car and pulled his cowl off. He tossed the cowl onto a nearby table and dropped into a swivel chair in front of one of his many computer terminals.
"Troubling night, sir?" Alfred set the tray down on the desk next to Bruce and began setting out silverware.
"Same as always, Alfred. What's that?" Bruce motioned towards the tray.
"Grilled turkey breast medallions in mushroom sauce, garlic mashed potatoes, and peas with bits of prosciutto served with Meursault." Alfred pulled a bottle of wine from where it had been breathing on the cart and presented it to Bruce.
"Alfred…"
"Yes, sir?"
Bruce hesitated… He was appreciative of Alfred's care of him and had to admit that the food was incredible…however, Bruce Wayne had never understood why Alfred didn't simply make him a grilled cheese and a bottle of water. Tomato soup for garnish would have been divine.
"It smells incredible. I'm not one hundred percent sure what pro..sh..-"
"Prosciutto, sir."
"Yes…well…I'm not exactly sure what it is, but it smells great. I don't know about the wine, though, Alfred…"
"Will you be going out again tonight, sir?"
"I have to. The Joker's out there…and now he has Harley with him."
"Oh, my…then I suppose you've already realized that Jay H. Oaker…"
In answer Bruce pulled the green wig from behind him.
"One glass, perhaps? It's good for the heart…or so I've read."
"At $200 a bottle, Alfred…it should open and pour itself."
After the light dinner, which had tasted as wonderful if as it had smelled, Bruce moved to his laboratory. He examined the wig under magnification, while Alfred busied himself removing the graffiti from the Batmobile. At first there didn't seem to be anything amiss. Two of Harley's hairs were tangled under the elastic of the wig and there were some residuals from the smoke bomb she'd released. Bruce stopped at one of the green curls and pinched a piece of debris that had become tangled among the fake follicles.
"Did you find something, sir?"
As Bruce examined his discovery under the microscope, he donned a pair of latex gloves. "I think I might have just figured out where Harley is going."
Bruce placed the fragment of material under a microscope and examined it. He then removed a piece with some delicate tweezers and dropped it in a vial, then squeezed some fluid from one of the many bottles lined on the back of the bench he was working at. With a few shakes the solution mixed in the vial and Bruce used a long dropper to draw out some of the solution. This he squeezed into one of many indentions on a separate plastic sheet and slid the sheet into a device next to the microscope housing the original fragment and began typing on his computer.
"This piece of material I found in the wig contains lye and glycerin."
"Ingredients for making soap, Master Bruce?"
"Exactly, Alfred."
"What interest would an unkempt simpleton the likes of the Joker have with soap ingredients?" Alfred moved closer to inspect the papers that were now being ejected from the printer nearby.
"I'm not sure of the Joker's motives…but I am sure of where to find him now…or at least where to find my next lead."
"And where would that be, Master Bruce?" Alfred poured some coffee from a carafe into a cup he'd retrieved from nearby. This cup he set upon a saucer then set next to Bruce.
"Axis Chemical." Bruce took one of the printouts from the machine and examined it closely. "More specifically, Axis Fragrances, a division of the defunct Axis Chemical." He took the cup and saucer and sipped the coffee gingerly. He then slightly lifted it in a gesture towards Alfred and 'mmmed' his appreciation.
"Axis Chemical closed shortly after the explosion that created the Joker…" Alfred was organizing the pieces of Batsuit Bruce had scattered around the work area while he spoke.
"Yes, but the plant that was responsible for their cosmetics became a different entity…mainly contractual work for other cosmetic companies needing to meet special product demands. I think this warrants a visit…I want to see exactly what Axis Fragrances is up to. For that matter, call Sarah Patrick and see what you can dig up in regards to Axis Fragrance's financial statements. I want to know who's paying the bills."
"Consider it done…and…take care, sir…I don't have to tell you what lye can do to human skin."
"No, Alfred…you certainly don't. Could you grab me a fresh mask…I need to gather the tools I'll need."
"Certainly, sir." Alfred bowed and moved to the back of the cave towards the wardrobe.
Bruce sat and stared at the computer screen before him, studying the layout of the Axis Fragrance plant, memorizing every entrance and exit, every duct and stairwell.
What are you up to, Joker? Bruce thought to himself. This was definitely going to be a very long night.