"Told you the accidental wife murdering guy didn't have the stones for this kinda work," said Joker, smugly, as they all gathered in Dr. Leland's office again. "You all owe me fifty bucks."
"Nobody ever bet you fifty bucks," retorted Two-Face.
"Nah, you bet me twenty-two bucks, Mr. Two-Face," retorted Joker.
"I definitely didn't," said Two-Face. "Although that does sound like something I would theoretically do."
"That's because you're predictable, Harv," sighed Joker. "And predictable people are so boring. Like this accidental wife murdering guy – I knew he wouldn't be able to stop from spilling his guts and confessing to the cops. There was no chance of him ever being caught for what he did - we gave him a free ride, a second chance, a get outta jail free card. And what does he do with it? He wastes it. Throws it away like it was Baltic Avenue. Conscience gets 'em every time, poor saps - it takes a real man to overcome that limitation. And we all knew the guy wasn't a real man - if he was, he would have intentionally murdered his wife for playing around."
"Before that statement can set Ivy off on a rant, and as much as I'd love to delve into your incredibly delusional views on masculinity, Joker, I don't have time for it right now," retorted Dr. Leland. "Ben Cross said he wants to talk to you all – hopefully together we can figure out who's actually behind this. I've told Detective Bullock to Zoom us."
"Ah Zoom, now there's a thing that's going to date this story," sighed Joker. "In twenty years, people won't have heard of that anymore. It'll have gone the way of MySpace, or Betamax, or quality output from DC comics. Oops, did I say that out loud?"
"I hope I live to see the day we forget about Zoom," retorted Dr. Leland, as she started the meeting. "But until then it's a universal hell we all have to deal with. Your microphone's muted, Detective," she sighed.
"…hate this crap," muttered Bullock, unmuting it. "Hello, freaks, here's an old buddy of yours," he said, gesturing at Ben Cross sitting next to him, still sniffling.
"Nice to see you again, Detective!" said Joker, waving cheerfully at him. "Does the camera really add ten pounds? Because it seems more like twenty in your case."
"Shut up, clown!" snapped Bullock, raising his fist toward the camera.
"Harvey, if you break another webcam, it's coming out of your salary!" shouted Commissioner Gordon from across the station.
"Lucky that they're not very expensive then," commented Bullock. "I can afford twenty bucks for stress relief - it's a lot cheaper than therapy."
"Mr. Cross, we know the story of what happened with your wife, and how the inmates dumped her body for you," said Dr. Leland. "But now there's someone stalking them around the asylum with a knife, someone who seems to know of the incident last Halloween. Did you ever tell anyone else about what happened?"
"No!" exclaimed Ben, looking horrified. "No, I never mentioned it to anyone! I tried to forget about it completely, but it kept…it kept intruding on my thoughts every moment of every day!" he sobbed, bursting into tears again.
"Jesus Christ, buddy, it happened – get over it!" snapped Joker. "All of us have murdered lots of people, intentionally, and you don't see us sobbing over it!"
"Are you certain you actually did kill your wife?" asked Tetch. "I mean, I assume you checked to see that she was indeed dead before heading out to dump her body?"
"Of course I did!" replied Ben. "I'm not insane!"
"Hey, I'm not insane either, but I can't confirm she didn't have a pulse!" snapped Harley. "Looking back on things, you can't always trust your own judgment, especially when a lotta crazy crap happens as a result!"
"We certainly can't trust Harley's judgement on anything," agreed Ivy.
"Are you sure you didn't just assume the worst in your blind panic?" pressed Tetch. "There's no chance she might have still been alive when we dumped her?"
"Live burial is not uncommon, even in this day and age," commented Crane. "Although obviously it was much more frequent when we had limited scientific knowledge. The Victorians used to have bell pulls installed in their coffins in case it happened to them, and it did, and still does. Many other conditions are mistaken for death. Did your wife ever suffer from catalepsy?"
"No, no, nothing like that!" exclaimed Ben. "She hit her head, and she died – that's what happened! And she was definitely dead! I'm sure of it! I would have given anything for it not to be true, but it is! I'm a murderer! A murderer!" he sobbed.
"Well, it's a great pity she wasn't buried alive, from a narrative perspective," sighed Crane. "I was hoping for a sort of Fall of the House of Usher climax, where the woman was driven mad by being buried alive, and comes back to strangle her murderer…"
"You wanna keep your creepy sexual fantasies to yourself?" interrupted Joker. "Why don't you grab some closet time later and express your hope for a climax then?"
"Oh no, we don't want another person crowding in on our closet time!" snapped Harley. "It's bad enough Red and Harvey are honing in!"
"What about the guy your wife was having the affair with, Greg someone?" said Ivy. "Could he have found out about the murder somehow?"
"I…I haven't seen Greg since before the murder," stammered Ben. "I certainly never told him the truth about what happened to Julie. Why would I? I hated him."
"Hated him enough to brag to him about the fact you killed the woman he loved?" demanded Ivy.
"No, hated him enough to never want to have anything to do with him ever again," replied Ben. "I learned my lesson about acting in anger – it's better if you just stay away from the people you hate rather than unleash your hatred on them."
"If the inmates could learn that, I could retire," said Dr. Leland, nodding.
"Yeah, but then Batsy would be out of a job," replied Joker. "And we can't just fire the guy like that, especially not in this economy."
"Detective Bullock, didn't you say that Greg filed a police report on Julie's disappearance?" asked Dr. Leland. "Do you have that report handy?"
"I can bring it up," said Bullock, nodding.
"It must have some contact information for Greg," said Dr. Leland. "Can you call him and see if he's home?"
"Yeah, anything to get me off this screen," agreed Bullock, standing up and reaching for the phone. "I hate watching myself on camera."
"Now you know how the rest of us feel," commented Joker. "So you'll be going to prison, huh?" he asked, turning to Ben. "Too bad you didn't try to fake insanity – it's pretty cushy in here when we're not being stalked by maniacs. But I got a feeling prison is gonna be hellish for you, especially if you keep randomly bursting into tears. Weak guys have a pretty hard time of it, if you get what I'm saying. You probably won't survive your sentence, and you'll probably be glad you won't."
"Joker, would you not terrify him?" demanded Dr. Leland. "They'll probably go easy on him for his first offense - it was an accident, after all. It'll probably be ruled manslaughter, which will have a shorter sentence than murder."
"I hate the term manslaughter," commented Ivy. "He murdered a woman. Why would we center men in her death?"
"Do you ever give it a rest, Pammie?" demanded Joker.
"Not until men stop perpetrating violence against women," retorted Ivy. "So no, never."
"Here, let me put you on speaker," said Bullock, coming back into the screen with the phone to his ear. "This outta be good – speakerphone over Zoom, when you thought the regular thing was hellish. Ok, say hi, Greg."
"Hi, this is Greg Andrews," said a voice. "Is there a problem?"
"Are you calling from inside Arkham Asylum?" asked Joker, before anyone else could speak.
"What? Arkham Asylum? Why would I be there?" asked Greg.
"To avenge your girlfriend's death," retorted Joker. "We dumped her body after her husband murdered her."
"Ben killed Julie?" asked Greg, and there was no mistaking the shock in his voice. "She's dead? I…I never stopped hoping that…she was still alive…that she survived the fear gas attack somehow…"
"Nope, dead and devoured by fishes at the bottom of the Gotham River," interrupted Joker, cheerfully. "They'll have polished her off by now - they start with the eyes as those are the juiciest, and then move on to the rotting flesh. Probably not much left of her now but a pretty pristine skeleton…"
Greg also burst into tears, along with Ben. "Joker, stop talking!" snapped Dr. Leland, shoving him away from the computer. "Either this guy is the best actor ever, or he's not our guy!"
"Then who is?" demanded Two-Face. "Who's left who knows what we did last Halloween?"
"I know who," said a voice from the doorway. They all turned to see Batman standing there. "And I'll show you. Follow me."