The sun grew over the city, bringing light into a new day. The night had ended. The dream world faded away and went over to the other side of the globe, waiting for another chance to bring darkness back into Gotham City.
Arthur turned over in his sleep, placing his right hand on the pillow beneath his head. He opened his eyes and found himself lying in a comfortable bed in another apartment. He remembered last night's sexual encounter and turned his head, looking over his left shoulder and sitting up. He stared down at Wendy's sleeping form lying next to him. Her back was facing him. Arthur stared at her for a while, then threw the blanket off of him and placed his feet on the floor. He breathed through his nose, then stood up and went to gather his clothes from off the floor and got dressed. He hated to leave Wendy without saying goodbye, but he had important business to take care off. Before he left, Arthur turned around and looked at Wendy and went over to her side of the bed. He knelt down and placed a hand on top of her head, stroking her hair. His hand brushed lightly against her soft, pink lips with just the tips of his fingers. She didn't rouse.
"Please forgive me, Wendy", Arthur whispered to her. He cupped his hand to her face and placed a kiss on her forehead, then stood up and left the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Arthur went out into the living room and went over to the front door to retrieve his jacket, but just as he started to put it on, he heard a familiar voice asking him, "Were you gentle with her?"
Arthur froze, his eyes grew wide in horror. He turned around slowly and found it was Jack Napier. He was leaning against the wall, shuffling a deck of cards.
"You know, sometimes I worry about my niece", said Jack. "But then again, she's old enough to make her own decisions. Were you kind to her or did you treat her like a whore?"
"Excuse me?" Arthur asked him.
"Just tell me the truth, son", said Jack, still shuffling his lucky deck. "Did you kiss her like she's the most beautiful girl in the world? Did you treat her like a woman? Did you pet her little red beaver?"
"I don't feel comfortable talking about this", said Arthur, not liking the way he spoke about Wendy.
"Don't be so modest, Arthur. We both know you've never fucked a woman in your entire goddamn life. Now I just want to know one thing. Did you enjoy it? Do you feel ashamed?"
Arthur was starting to get angry, but kept his cool and asked him calmly, "What if I said no?"
Jack pocketed his lucky deck and said, "Well, then, I'd say you weren't such a loser after all. No man can resist that little bit of red meat and not say they weren't ashamed about it. Wendy seems to like you a lot, but to me, you're just another freak. You want to fuck her, that's fine. But don't ever let me catch you around here again. If she wasn't so crazy about you, I'd tear your head off."
"Then what's stopping you?" Arthur questioned him.
Jack gave him an evil smirk and answered, "It's not everyday a man comes home to find his niece naked in bed with another man. Did you remember to lock the door on your way out?"
Arthur didn't like the sound of that. His face darkened with vengeance and he said in a quiet, threatening voice, "If you touch Wendy, I'll fucking crucify you."
"Relax, kid. It's not like I'm gonna bash her brains in or anything. I'm just gonna remind her how we do things here in Gotham. Maybe I ought to teach her a lesson the hard way, if you know what I mean."
Arthur was about ready to lunge at Jack, but the mobster pulled out his gun and pointed it at him. Arthur backed up, but kept his death glare on Jack.
"Don't do anything stupid, Arthur", Jack warned him. "You know better than to mess with me. Who do you think got you out of that shithole prison in the first place? You know you never even said thank you? Sounds to me like Mommy never taught you any manners."
"I have no mother", said Arthur, darkly. "I never did. Everything she ever told me was a lie. And I don't have to tell you anything. What are you going to do to Wendy?"
"I'll let the little woman live, but you might not want her by the time I'm done with her tomorrow night."
"I'm going on Murray Franklin's show tomorrow night. After I'm done with him, I'm coming back here and I'm going to kill you. If I'm going to Hell, I might as well drag you down there with me."
"You flatter yourself", said Jack, reaching for the door and opening it, but still keeping his eyes on Arthur and aiming his gun at him. "Now get the hell out of here, son. You're using up all my oxygen."
Arthur stepped toward the door, still glaring at Jack, a devilish and untrustworthy aura surrounding him like a cloud of toxic masculinity. He didn't know much about the criminal underworld, but he knew they were not a force to be reckoned with. Soon as he was out the door, Arthur heard it slam behind him and turned his head. He heard the door lock from the inside. He was afraid to leave Wendy alone, but he had other important matters to attend to. Much more important. Wendy was strong enough to handle her uncle on her own, he was sure of it, but if he was wrong and Jack laid so much as a finger on her, Arthur would make sure he was sorry.
On his way back home, Arthur stopped at a beauty supply store and purchased a box of green hair dye. He didn't know why he did that, but something told him he should give himself a new look before going on the Murray Franklin Show tomorrow night. Soon as he got back to the apartment, Arthur locked the door and went into the bathroom, setting the box of hair dye next to the sink before stripping out of his clothes. He took a shower and dried off and gave himself a shave and combed his hair back, then went into the bedroom. He got dressed in his white button up shirt and maroon-colored pants with the matching vest and black dress shoes.
Arthur decided to do a little roleplay and took the bedsheet from the bedroom and hung it up over the archway between the front door and the living room. He went to great lengths to make sure everything was perfect, even going so far as to write 'Live With Murray Franklin' on a coffee mug. He opened a cassette case containing a recording of one of the episodes of the Murray Franklin Show and stuck it into the VCR and pressed the play button. He studied the video tapes he had recorded over the years, watching the guest stars and studying their mannerisms. Though he knew most of the episodes by heart, Arthur still wanted to recap and practice how to address the talk show host and learn how to behave on the show. He had to learn how to act normal. Two hours later, he was ready to practice his introduction.
Taking a drag from his cigarette, Arthur set it down into the ashtray on the coffee table and stood up and went to hide behind the bedsheet curtain. He fixed his hair and listened for Murray's announcement on the tape and came out as soon as the music started playing. He walked out from behind the makeshift curtain and waved to the invisible crowd before turning to the air and leaning back as though he were acknowledging Murray. He walked over to the couch and turned and waved again before taking a seat. He ran his hands through his hair and leaned back, draping his right arm over the back of the couch. He turned his head to the empty chair on his left and practiced how he was going to talk to Murray.
"Hey, Murray. Thanks for inviting-" His voice croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hey, Murray. Thanks for...Thank you so much for inviting me on the show. I've been a big fan of...Hey, Murray. Thanks for invite-" Arthur sighed in exasperation and rested his head against his fist. "Jesus Christ, that's not right either", he mumbled, his left leg bouncing slightly. He couldn't find the right words, and he was even more concerned about what he should wear. Should he dress formal or keep it casual? Would a suit be too much? When he sat down, should he have his legs spread open? Or have one leg draped over the other? Maybe keep his knees together? It was all nerve-wrecking.
"I'm sorry. What's that?" Arthur asked the invisible host to his left. He chuckled and said, "That's very funny, Murray. You know, I'm a comedian, too. Would you like to hear a joke?"
The recorded applause from the video tape gave him his answer. "Oh, yeah?" Arthur asked the crowd. "You would? Okay." He looked at his journal sitting next to him and gathered himself before addressing to the audience, "Knock knock!" He reached for the gun tucked down the front of his pants and tried to pull it out, but the damn thing got caught and he fumbled the attempt. The audience on the tape gasped, though it could have been the voices Arthur heard inside his head. He finally managed to pull the gun out and then stuck it back down his pants, wanting to try again and get it right.
Arthur turned his attention over to the empty chair again and laughed softly. The audience sighed in relief and laughed with him. He tilted his head back and said, "Hey. Knock knock." This time, Arthur pulled the revolver out with success and positioned the barrel underneath his chin. He pulled the trigger, clicking the empty chamber and throwing his head back dramatically. He flipped the gun into the air and laid there as though he were dead. His legs slumped. The audience burst into applause as Arthur laughed quietly at his own joke.
Wendy decided to take the bus for a change and got off at a bus stop three blocks away from Grimaldi's Diner. She walked down the boulevard on her way to work and came to a street corner and waited to cross. While she waited, Wendy had an uneasy feeling she was being watched. She turned her head and looked over her left shoulder and saw a sinister-looking man with dirty light brown hair and steely blue eyes leaning against the doorway of a liquor store. He was staring right at her. He had a mustache and his face was stubbled. His hands were inside his pockets. He looked like a bum. Wendy had seen him once before. His name was Joe Chill.
Looking away, Wendy crossed over to Keaton Street. She tried to ignore the feeling she was being followed and not look back, but glanced over her left shoulder again and saw Joe was following her. Wendy looked forward and started to walk as fast as she could down the sidewalk. She couldn't get very far wearing high heels, and she wasn't about to take them off and go running down the street in bare feet. She tried to lose him, but the man kept on pursuing her. She was now starting to think Joe was sent for her by Jack Napier. She hoped he didn't have a gun hidden inside his pocket.
To avoid confrontation, Wendy turned to a door on her right and went into a pizza restaurant. She looked around the place, seeing it was only about half-full. There was a man and a woman sitting in a booth, two men sitting at the bar talking and drinking beer, and what appeared to be a birthday party near the play area. There was a clown entertaining the children. A very small clown wearing a colorful polka dot suit and fuzzy blue wig.
Wendy turned her head and looked out the door to see if Joe was still following her, but she couldn't see him anymore. She thought about walking out and leaving, but then she looked back over at the small clown, who walked over to the mother of the child who was having the party and told her he was going on a break. Wendy had no idea who he was, but something told her she should go over and talk to him. Maybe he worked for the same clown agency that Arthur used to. Perhaps he could tell her something she was curious to know about him.
The small clown walked over and took a seat at the bar and asked the bartender behind the counter, "Excuse me? Could I have a root beer, please?"
Wendy came over and took a seat to his left. "Make that two", she said, handing two dollars over to the bartender to pay for the drinks.
The small clown looked at the auburn-haired woman. The bartender took the money and left to retrieve their beverages. Wendy turned her attention over to the small clown and offered him a friendly smile. "Hi."
The small clown smiled in return and said in a British accent, "Hello."
"Let me guess. You work for Ha-Ha's Talent Booking, right?" Wendy asked him.
"Yeah, that's right", he answered.
"I thought so." She offered him her hand and said, "I'm Wendy."
The small clown shook her hand and told her, "I'm Gary. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too."
The bartender came back with two root beers and then walked away to tend to his other customers.
Wendy took a small sip of her root beer and asked, "You wouldn't happen to know Arthur Fleck, would you?"
Gary looked at her and answered, "Yeah, I know Arthur. He used to work for the same clown agency as I do. I haven't seen him around lately, though. How's he been?"
"Not too good, I'm afraid. His mother just passed away yesterday."
"What happened?"
"She suffered a stroke over the weekend. Arthur told me he went to see her yesterday morning and she took her last breath. It's terrible."
Gary looked away and said, "It's a real shame. She was a good woman. I didn't know her too well, but she seemed all right."
"How long have you known Arthur?" Wendy asked him.
"About five years, give or take", Gary answered, taking a drink of root beer. "We never saw each other aside from work. But he's a good man, he is. He's never showed me any harm, but he does have a serious condition."
"You mean his laughing condition?"
"Yes, but he doesn't mean it. It's just the way he is."
Wendy blinked and set her drink aside, resting her arms on the counter and asking Gary, "So, why was he fired? Do you know?"
"Our boss told me Arthur was fired for bringing a gun to a children's hospital", said Gary.
Wendy raised her eyebrows at him, suspiciously. "A real gun?"
"Arthur said it was a prop. The hospital complained and told Hoyt what happened. He's the man who runs the agency. Arthur came by the next morning to collect his things and that was the last time I heard or saw him."
"What day was he fired again?"
"Last week on Wednesday, the 21st", Gary answered.
Wendy looked away and made a quick calculation in her head. If what Gary said was true, then today was the 29th of October. That was eight days ago. It also happened to be the exact number of days those subway murders took place. The subway murders happened on the very same day Arthur was fired. It had to be a coincidence.
"That's not possible", Wendy muttered to herself.
"Sorry?" Gary asked her.
Wendy looked at him again and said, "Well, I mean, it's ridiculous. Arthur's as harmless and innocent as a baby lamb. He would never do anything to..."
Gary waited for her to continue, not having a clue as to what she was talking about.
Wendy shook her head and told him, "Nothing. Forget I mentioned it." She took another sip of root beer and decided to change the subject and asked Gary, "Does he ever go out with friends?"
"Arthur doesn't really have any friends", Gary answered. "Everyone mistreats him just because he's different. I've dealt with a similar thing because of my height, but it doesn't hurt me. I just tell people to bugger off."
Wendy chuckled at the small man's remark, but then her smile faded and she gave off a look of discomfort. She let out a soft moan, placing a hand on her throat and feeling as though she were about to throw up.
Gary noticed her face starting to turn pale and asked her with concern, "Hey, are you okay?"
Wendy shook her head and lowered her hand, feeling the nausea fade away a little bit. "Yeah", she answered. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Suddenly, there came an explosion from outside. Wendy jumped in her seat and looked to her left. She heard people screaming and got up and walked over to the door and stepped outside. People were standing on the sidewalk, screaming and panicking. Wendy's eyes grew wide and she let out a gasp when she saw what had happened. There was a movie theater across the street that looked as though it had been gone up in flames.
"Holy shit, man!" Said a bearded black man who witnessed the scene of the crime.
"Yo, did you see that?" His friend asked.
"What happened?" Wendy asked them.
"Smoke bomb!" The bearded black man answered. "A gang of clowns just went in and set the whole fucking place on fire!"
Gary came outside to see what all the excitement was about and stood next to Wendy, seeing more than a dozen people come running out of the theater wearing clowns masks and destroying everything. One of them took a baseball bat and started smashing the ticket booth. Wendy flinched when she saw that happen, but thankfully, nobody was inside it. She hoped nobody got hurt or died while inside the theater. An ambulance drove by, the siren blaring loudly. Wendy could have sworn she saw a person wearing a clown mask driving it. She looked down at Gary, who looked up at her with equal bits of worry and concern. She looked back at the theater in despair. The people of Gotham were starting to turn crazy. This city was getting way too dangerous.
Travis took the night off from driving the taxi and stayed home, thinking about the pretty redhead and her much older lover. At the moment, he was sitting on the couch, watching the news and eating from a jar of applesauce. His face was blank and he wasn't really listening to what the good news or bad news was. It was all the same to him. He set the jar on the small table next to him and stood up. He turned the TV off and went into the kitchen and opened a drawer, taking out three steak knives. He went back into the living room and stood two feet away from the newspaper hanging up on the wall. Several newspaper clippings were on the wall next to it, but the one he had his eyes set on was the recent headline that had a drawing of a scary-looking clown on it. Something disturbed him about the ongoing clown protests and riots. The city was getting dangerous everyday. He wasn't sure he could take much more of the violent nature of Gotham. Taking the first knife, Travis threw it and hit the clown drawing dead smack in the neck, then threw another knife, this time striking it in the left eye socket. Throwing the last knife, Travis hit the clown drawing right in the middle of its forehead.
Travis went over and sat down at the table next to the window and opened his journal. He wrote in straight, disciplined lines:
October 29th
I can't stop thinking about her. Or him. Something seems to be eating away at him, but I didn't bother to ask. Maybe I should have. Wendy would know for sure. She's been seeing him for about a week now. I see Arthur going through the same thing I did back in New York five years ago. I don't know what he's going through, but I pray to God he doesn't do anything to hurt her or himself.
Travis set his pencil down and closed his journal. He stood up and picked up a box of cigarettes, taking one out and placing it between his lips as he picked up a lighter and lit the tip. He inhaled and removed the cigarette, breathing out smoke as he turned and looked out the window, staring out into the night and listening to the noise of Gotham City. People shouting, cars honking, random sounds of no particular concern or interest to him.
Later that night, about two in the morning, Wendy tossed and turned in bed, moaning in discomfort. She woke up not feeling very well and sat up at once, wrapping an arm around her abdomen and thinking she was having a stomach cramp. She felt a wave of nausea coming up and threw the blanket off her and quickly ran to the bathroom, dropping down to her knees and grabbing the bowl of the toilet. She threw up and waited for it to pass and sat there for a moment, heaving up and shaking. She coughed and wiped her mouth as soon as she was finished and flushed the toilet. She stood up slowly and went over to the sink and placed a hand under the faucet. She turned it on and brought some water to her lips, swishing it in her mouth and spitting it back out. She repeated the same action a couple more times until the acid taste washed out of her mouth.
Wendy turned the faucet off and placed her hands on the counter and stood there with her head bowed, crying. Her body trembled. She sniffled and slowly lifted her head up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was pale, the color gone from her cheeks. A thought occurred to her why she was suddenly feeling so sick. She thought about Arthur and the other night he slept with her, her eyes growing wide at the realization. She placed both hands on her stomach, fearing the possibility that she might be expecting a new arrival in little less than a year.
Wendy walked back into the bedroom and was about to get back into bed, but looked over at the door and saw it was slightly opened. She didn't remember leaving it like that. She walked over to close it and heard her uncle talking to somebody on the phone. She heard him mention the name Carl and opened the door just a tiny bit more to hear what he was saying.
"Don't worry about it, Grissom. I'll have Joe take care of Thomas Wayne tomorrow night. Besides, he needs the money...Wayne's wife and kid?...Nah, screw 'em. What's three more dead people in Gotham to us anyway?"
Wendy gasped in horror, putting a hand to her mouth. Jack Napier was putting a contract on the Wayne family? How could he do such a monstrous thing? Wendy understood nobody liked Thomas Wayne by this point, but that was no excuse to kill him, or his wife and child. Thomas Wayne was just a billionaire and philanthropist. What harm did he ever do to him? It wasn't Thomas Wayne's fault that Gotham City was in a depression. It was the whole fucking system's fault. Something needed to be done, but Wendy didn't know what to do. If she went to the cops, that crooked Lieutenant Eckhardt would tell Jack and then Jack would kill her. She felt trapped.