Gordon had begun to feel slightly better, but that was after a trip out of the precinct, Bullock sticking to his side the whole time, and upon his return, going back to his office to...take care of paperwork.
In this case, it was setting up for what was going to be a shit show. Once Joker's lawyer got a look at the footage from the so-called interview, there was going to be hell to pay, and it was best to try and get ahead of it. In the meantime, the clown was placed in a holding cell, one specifically for him.
No chances would be taken. Constant checks, all personnel would be required to have some kind of air filter on, and all contact with the prisoner was to be at a minimum. Do not respond to any taunts thrown your way, do not engage the madman, and be in and out as efficiently as possible. You did not give that man anything he could use to escape, and as unpredictable and dangerous as he was, anything could just about be everything.
The reason for tonight's bust and capture were still a mystery. Why had the Joker gone to that treatment plant? What was there that was so important? Why was it so important that the clown sacrificed himself rather than any of his hired help, or with one attempt to kill as many officers as possible?
Nothing made sense. The Joker's motives and reasoning only made sense to the maniac and it was only after everything went down that you could even begin to start putting together the logic.
Tonight was a reminder for the Commissioner that you didn't want the Joker getting into your head. It was a fight that he had finally lost and confirmation that he was past his prime and needed to go. A decision needed to be made and soon.
The door to his officer slammed open, and on the other side was a frantic Bullock. The Commissioner didn't get a chance to say anything as his longest supporter exclaimed, "The freak's escaped!"
The freak es—no. Not possible.
There was no need to ask any questions. Gordon was out of his seat and rushing around his desk. Bullock had to shove himself away as the older man went into a sprint as he exited his office, running around the bullpen and heading straight for the elevators.
He would've taken the stairs, but the holding cell for the Joker had required sacrifices of their own. Staircases that led to the sub basement had been sealed off years ago and everything was done so that the only access was through the elevator. Officers either had to move out of his way, or were shoved themselves as Gordon hurried.
One painstakingly long elevator ride later and he was in the sub-basement. He had to order multiple clearances so that he could get through each and every checkpoint they had down here. His ID badge had been left in his office, but there was already a panic down here so that wasn't an issue.
Finally, finally, he reached perhaps one of the most secure cells in all of Gotham, not counting anything that could be found in Blackgate, or Arkham. There should be a man here, one bloodied from an assault courtesy of the Commissioner himself and still dressed in that gaudy outfit of purple and orange and green.
There was nobody here.
The door to the cell was solid, reinforced steel, almost a foot thick and heavy. Only a small window allowed anyone to peer into it. The window itself was small, so there was no way anyone outside of a contortionist could fit through it. The Joker was not a contortionist as far as he knew.
There was no damage to the window, so he peered through it and into the Spartan cell on the other side. A cot attached to the wall by bolts and chains was empty, possessing only a thin mattress with an even thinner blanket. There was a sink and toilet set up, and there were no signs of any damage to them either. That was all he could see and that was the problem.
"Let me in," he stated. Then louder, "Let me in!"
"Commissioner, we don't know—" someone began to speak up.
Pulling out his gun, he made sure the safety was off when he gave his order again. "I said let me in! Fall back and I'll take the Goddamn risk. Just open the Goddamn door!"
Multiple feet stepped back and then the locks on the door unlatched with a loud clank. Slipping his fingers into the small depression that was the door's handle, he pulled on the heavy barrier and opened the cell. Grabbing the collar of his dress shirt, he pulled it up so that his mouth and nose were covered, a pathetic air filter there, but there was no time he was willing to waste.
The Commissioner rushed into the cell and searched the space that should have someone in it. Again, he found no one, and that was after checking everything, including the corner for any signs of life. He tossed the bed, found nothing in, or under it. He kicked at the sink and toilet fixture and found it didn't budge an inch.
There was nothing here, not even a bomb, or a package of Joker Venom left behind as a parting gift. There was nothing at all and that was the problem.
Pulling his dress shirt down, risky, but there was nothing here that pointed to him being in danger other than the fact he had stepped into a place that had once held the Joker. The key word was held and not holding. That was a problem. That was a very big problem.
"Who saw anything?" he demanded as he marched out of the cell. "Anybody? Did anyone hear anything?"
"No one came in or out." That was...that was one of the security personnel, the same person who manned the final checkpoint. Someone who always had a view of this door and was the only one who could open it remotely. "I heard nothing and normally he's noisy and doesn't know when to shut up. He was still there after the first, second, and even the tenth checkups. We're what, during number fifteen and that's why we sounded the alarm. No one was here at that check."
That didn't make sense. The intervals were between five and ten minutes depending on the shift and when there were shift changes. Some of the checkups were done randomly to throw off any patterns. He should still be in there…
Think, Gordon. Think. What else was there? Wait. "His phone call. Did he have his one phone call?" he asked. No matter how ridiculous it was, he wanted to know about anything that could be used by this man. His legal right to a call, typically to one of his lawyers could have been turned into an attempt to escape.
"No. Hadn't even made the request for his phone call." Another officer, another one who also manned one of the multiple checkpoints. "He likes to...he likes to call his lawyers before he even sits down. He didn't this time."
This wasn't making sense, with the exception that the Joker was breaking his own pattern. That should have been expected…
"He didn't just vanish into thin air; he must have found a weakness, somewhere, and now he's gone." It was a conclusion that Gordon didn't want to admit, but the evidence was mounting that that was the case. "Someone examine the security footage. Comb every second of it. I also want a team to examine every inch of that cell, then the rest of this floor. I want that weakness, whatever it is, found and sealed off. And...I'll put out the APB. Get to work, people."
If he had thoughts things were going to be bad after his assault on that lunatic, this was so much worse. The fallout from this, and needing to publicly admit that the Joker had escaped custody…
How much worse was this going to become before it got better?
Technology was certainly a marvel. In spite of his intellectual curiosity, there were always those subjects that could escape even him. Oh, he certainly understood the fundamental basics, but the technological prowess that he had recruited surpassed even him. It was why he had targeted such individuals in the first place.
Jervis was capable of taking any household electronic and repurposing it into his trademark mind control technology. It had been through the sacrifice of a single smartphone and a handheld radio that the diminutive man had been able to take over Arkham. Then there was Edward with his computers. He had already navigated through the wireless networks connecting everyone in Gotham together and had put his own backdoors in particular sites.
Simple, according to Edward. He had spent his spare time doing some coding, which also baffled the former psychiatrist, and doing some research on the side. These types of skills were enviable; for Strange, he had looked to chemistry outside of his preferred psychology. When it came down to it, there were chemical properties in the brain, and knowing about the various medications out there to treat mental health made chemistry a natural choice to expand to.
"Are we ready?" Strange inquired. Word from Robinson was that Pamela was almost done. With Edward hacking into the city's mainframe, targeting the park services, it was simple to trick the authorities into closing down the park. Undisturbed, Pamela was working her magic, and soon, all would be ready on that front.
"I was done hours ago," Edward drawled, never taking his eyes off the monitor in front of him. "I spent more time crafting the riddle. It was perfect before...then I recalled who our audience was and had to dumb it down. Still, with the script, it should get the attention we want."
Strange gave a chuckle. "Marvelous. It should take some time for it to be solved. More than enough time to get into position. The only concern we should have are interlopers interfering."
"And with how open this will be, we should expect Batman interfering," Edward remarked.
"I gave Pamela the task of coming up with an appropriate challenge. She seemed quite eager to do two projects at once. If all goes well, we will have a bonus of defeating that vigilante as well as the clown, but priorities are the Joker and his allies." There was a sensation, one that came with socializing with a mind capable of working on your level. Edward was certainly capable of doing so and felt more like a colleague than a pawn.
"And I for one look forward to seeing Isley's creative streak." Edward gave a chuckle. "I've heard the stories. She is ambitious, which might be her weakness. Ambition tends to go hand in hand with impatience. That's when you begin making mistakes."
The former shrink gave a noncommittal "hmm" in response, but did not comment further. Instead, he issued, "Whenever you're ready, begin."
With a nod, all it took was a few taps of the keys and moving the cursor on the monitor and then, "Done."
Yes, it was a simple as that. No quick and intricate dance of fingers over a keyboard, no rapid typing, no dramatic commands that the computer would not verbally respond to; it was just some simple typing and a couple strikes of the enter key.
But something so simple to witness was having a more dramatic effect on the city.
It began in downtown. One of the major streets was a shopping district, one possessing much advertisement. One advertisement of a soda product was taken over by a pink background with a green question mark in the fore. Beneath it, a ticker in which words scrolled under began to read out a series of words that had nothing to do with any advertisement, or schedule announcement.
Naturally, these words were Edward's latest riddle.
Stranded from a literacy island, you can find me in roughneck Teddy's paradise. Only those of wicked smiles and monstrous faces may enter. Beware, punchlines and jokes hold no power here, that is if you have any good ones to give.
A bit of a taunt at the end, but Strange would not begrudge. If the Joker was as clever as he claimed, he'd see the insult. If the insult was strong enough, it should rile the madman to come charging into a trap.
However, Edward had not been completely content with the few ads in downtown. Sprinkled across the city were billboards of the electronic kind and they too were hijacked to read the riddle.
Anything that didn't read the riddle instead possessed the green question mark and continued to hold the image that now a whole city was wary of. It was attention getting, which was entirely the point.
"Now to get into position," Strange murmured. Pausing, "This will not be too difficult, will it?"
With a smirk, Edward quipped, "Depends on how smart he is."
If she never saw another riddle, it would be too soon.
Chris was a good man to bring it to her attention. Whenever something big went down in this city, you needed to know what it was.
"Batten down the hatches," Nick remarked with a drawl. "So what's the plan?"
"We should keep as far away as possible," Antonia was quick to say. "Whatever it is the crazies are planning, we want nothing to do with it."
With a lazy smile, Nick replied, "But we don't know what the crazies are planning. Kinda hard to avoid them if you don't know what and where it's happening."
Selina stroked Isis' back. The black cat was willing to accept the attention, and likewise, Selina needed to focus. The rhythmic motions did wonders for focus. While the cousins she never knew she had continued their back and forth, she was pondering the riddle.
It was that maniac Riddler again. She hadn't realized he had gotten out since his incarceration in Arkham. She still owned him for that business in the maze. However, she considered it healthy to keep one vendetta in her life as having two might be what cost her a life. Still, with Riddler confirmed to be out and about, there was an opportunity.
It was also an opportunity she considered to ignore. However, she couldn't forget the days wandering hallways and riddles, always riddles. Then, she had a Batman to answer them for her. He was the one that wanted out more than her. It was easy to tell, kids in danger, cops being attacked with robots, and he was the kind of guy that liked helping people. Her, not so much, but even she could admit threatening kids was in low taste.
But there were rumors running through the streets. Talk was that there were more than the Riddler running amok. The smart ones were battening down the hatches; the stupid ones were doing whatever came to mind, loosen cannons waiting to blow. Combine that with the Iceman also on the loose…
"Can anyone figure out what that riddle means?" she asked aloud.
Chris, naturally, was the first to catch on. The taller man who knew himself a lot of law practically demanded, "You're not considering going out there?"
"The smart thing is to keep our heads low," Selina said, slowing her petting of Isis. "However, what we don't know about the crazies might come back to bite us all in the ass. There is only one place one of those maniacs should be and that's in front of us so we know where they are. What we need to know is what their game is. What are they trying to do? If we knew that, that would make avoiding them so much easier, wouldn't it?"
"Wouldn't that mean going to them?" Antonia asked, her face one big frown at this point.
"I've been living in this city a while. There's only been a few times I've been caught flatfooted." Selina could resist giving a drawl there. "When Two-Face was running amok, I figured out he was going after Thorne operations, so I kept away. Bane went after anyone that had any kind of power, or resisted him, so I avoided those too. Batman runs the city, so you don't do a major heist; you just stick with small things, or those your mark wouldn't dare call the cops about because they shouldn't have it in the first place. You want to go big? Go somewhere else. That's how you avoid Batman."
"But this isn't Batman," Chris stated. "And he is also going to try to solve the riddle."
"And be more focused on the crazies than the crazy cat lady who shows up to watch," Selina retorted. She was starting to feel an itch and not a physical one. How long had it been since she had last donned her bodysuit and mask? She had been so busy assuming her new position and taking control of a crime family, and now she was craving a little freedom. "We need on the ground intel. We need to know what's going on. So, I'm going to find out."
"You?" Chris exclaimed, and now he was anything but stoic. "No. You cannot be risked—"
"I am not like those idiots who went to chase down the Iceman. I know what I'm doing. I've had experience," Selina cut off. It hadn't been too surprising to find out her renegade gangsters had found the Iceman; neither had it been shocking to learn what he had done to them. Selina had felt like the cat that had caught the canary at that moment. "Right now, if anyone is to go in, they can't do it the Mob way, or the normal way, or however else there is. You need to be like the Romans and do it how they do it."
"You're going to get dressed up?" Nick sounded a bit too eager there.
"If it bothers you so much, you can have a car nearby, but first let's figure out what that riddle means so that you know where to park." Now she gave each and everyone one of her most personal inner circle a look, boring her gaze directly into their eyes.
Nick, still being the most animated one, shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, we're gangsters. Riddles aren't our thing."
"They're your thing now. Adapt, or go extinct." That was so a Rex thing to say, wasn't it? Having to channel her inner sperm donor made her feel so dirty. Still, survival was the goal here, and anything those crazies did were a threat to that. So either you choose door number one and keep your head down, or door number two and take it head on like an idiot.
Or...maybe you chose door number three.
What would be behind door number three?
Maybe it was something she could make up. She had always had a talent for improv.
Speaking of, when it came to improv, you could always steal from someone else's playbook. "You have an hour to give me an answer. I will be changing into something a bit more...dangerous."
"What the hell is Strange up to?" Two-Face growled.
"What makes you think this is Strange?" Croc asked.
"Because it has his stench all over it," Scarecrow interjected, taking away the other's chance to respond.
"Isn't it in a riddle though? I thought that was the other guy's thing?"
"No matter what you think, if Strange is involved, then he's running the show," Two-Face told him. "Every single one of those guys he has with him is a pawn and you can bet he'll use them until he's gotten everything he can out of 'em."
"Spoken from experience, Harv?" the Joker chimed in.
That earned the clown a glare. "Watch yourself," he warned threateningly.
The Joker was lounging on a couch, feet propped up on one of the arms, his head resting on his hands. "Did I touch a nerve?" he asked innocently. "Well, that simply won't do. I don't like seeing my two-faced friends all angry. Strange seems to bring that out of you."
"I said, watch yourself, Clown."
"Enough," Scarecrow interrupted. "Figuring out the riddle should be our chief concern. Strange is up to something and it would be in our best interest to figure that out."
"What, can't you tell it's an invitation?" the Joker responded. "The goad at the end was a nice touch, all but daring me to come out."
"You think it's a trap?" Croc asked.
"Naturally, Croc, my boy!" The Joker swung his legs off of the couch and sat up. "And they've given us everything to figure out where it is."
"So we avoid it," Two-Face said. "We ignore it, piss off Strange. That's a win-win to me."
"Ah, ah, ah, you're forgetting something." The grin on the Joker's face dropped, a serious look on appearing. "Batsy is seeing this riddle too and you can bet he'll figure it out and spring the trap. It's being announced to the entire city, so everyone will notice it. We simply can't let him face this danger alone."
"And Batman has put each and everyone of us behind bars!" Two-Face roared. "You may not want Strange to kill 'em, but I don't see how keeping that flying rodent alive is any of our business! In fact, everything would be better for us if he wasn't around!"
"And ruin my ongoing game? I don't think so."
It was deadly quiet as the two rogues stared each other down. Neither appeared interested in backing down and neither were Scarecrow and Croc looking to divert either of their attention to them.
So naturally that was when Harley chimed in.
"So what do you think the riddle means?" her high-pitched voice shattering the growing tension in the room.
The Joker shrugged. "I don't have a clue."
The collective faces of Two-Face, Scarecrow, and Killer Croc fell. "You have to be kiddin'," the crocodile man replied. "I thought that if anyone could figure it out, it'd be you."
"As much as I enjoy the occasional puzzle, riddles always bored me. The punchlines were always underwhelming."
"Then we'll have to piece the answer together," Scarecrow surmised. "This...may take some time," he added as he glanced at the other two rogues.
'It's a park."
The men in the room stayed still, then as one they put their collective attention on Harley Quinn. She seemed oblivious to their stares, her eyes looking up to the ceiling as if in thought. Two-Face even glanced up, not seeing anything in particular that gave her the answer.
"And...uhh, what led you to that conclusion?" Scarecrow ventured.
"Well, the last couple of parts don't tell us much. Only that we're the ones that are supposed to answer it and stuff," she shrugged. "It's the first line that tells us where to go. A lot of it is just flowery nonsense, but Roughneck Teddy? That's the outdoors president we had, always going on camping trips and what not."
"And you got a park from that?" Two-Face asked incredulously. He then looked at the Joker. "Where did you dig her up?"
"I'll have you know she has a Ph. D," the Joker defended.
"Now that's a frightening thought," the Scarecrow added.
"Eh hmm." The three returned her attention to Harley, who was giving them a disapproving look. Amazingly enough, they couldn't help but look sheepish. "If I may continue?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"Of course, Harle."
"Our apologies."
"Thank you." She seemed satisfied with those answers. "As I was sayin', Teddy was an outdoorsy guy so he liked going outdoors. Unfortunately we're in the city and there aren't a lot of places for a guy like that to go—except the park."
"There is some logic to that," Scarecrow admitted.
"But which one?" Two-Face questioned. "Gotham has a ton of parks."
"Seven," Croc grunted.
This earned him a couple side looks. "Guy like me has to hide somewhere. Not a lot of places for me to go," he explained.
"Alright, that gives us seven places to check," Two-Face amended. "It'll be a long night if we have to check them all."
"No need, Harv, it's rather obvious," the Joker said. "After all, this is Hugo and he's going to want the biggest stage he can find. And what is the biggest park in Gotham?"
A smile grew on his face, sinister and malicious. "That would be Robinson Park."
The Riddler's riddle is an original one made by Anonymous Void. Hat's off to him for the work and effort he put into it.
