Compared to Sharp's large and frankly, ostentatious campaign office, the Arkham Survivor's Support Group was nothing to write home about. It wasn't even its own building, but rather a small office space rented out of a larger older building in Downtown Gotham, much like Edward's own office. Edward had driven past the building twice before finally spotting the sign poking out of a small window. Edward parked his car down the street and walked up the steps toward the building. When he walked in, he noticed that the elevator in the main entryway had an out of order sign draped across the door. At least the support group's office was on the ground floor. And open on the weekend.

When he entered the support group office, the only person he saw was a middle aged woman sitting at the front desk, mindlessly flipping through a magazine. Edward waited for her to acknowledge him, but she didn't look up. He impatiently cleared his throat.

"May I help you?" the woman asked, not looking up from her magazine.

Charming. "I'm looking for Joe Bryant."

"Name?"

"Edward Nigma."

At that, the woman jerked her head to look at Edward. Edward cheekily tipped his hat to her. "Hello."

The woman proceeded to let out an ear piecing shriek. Edward had to drop his cane to cover his ears. "It's quite all right, I'm only here to-"

"Get out!" the woman caterwauled, tossing her coffee cup at him. Edward barely managed to dodge that before she began throwing the contents of her desk at him. "You're not putting me in any death traps you psycho!"

"I'm reformed!" Edward shouted back, holding up a chair to shield himself from the projectiles. "I don't do that anymore! I've been a private investigator for months!" First the Sirens double crossed him, then Dr. Young nearly tasered him, and now this woman was trying to brain him with knick-knacks and a novelty calendar. What was it lately with the women in this city wanting him maimed?

"What's going on out here!?"

Both Edward and the secretary looked up to see an African American man standing in the hallway. He wasn't an especially tall man, but he was built solidly and had a no nonsense air about him. The man narrowed his dark eyes at Edward. "Can I help you?"

Edward placed the chair back where he'd picked it up, confident that the secretary wouldn't continue her onslaught with this man around. "Are you Joe Bryant?"

"Yeah. This about Dr. Kellerman?"

Edward raised an eyebrow. Alright, maybe he should have expected that. "Can we speak in private?"

Bryant nodded. He turned to the secretary. "Beth, hold my calls."

The secretary looked shocked, but nodded. "Let me know if I need to call the cops Joe."

Bryant laughed a bit and Edward felt a bit offended. "I'll be fine." Bryant turned to Edward. "We can talk in my office. Follow me."

Edward followed him down the hallway towards his office, aware of the secretary glaring daggers into his back the entire time. Bryant turned a corner and waved him into a small office. Edward took a few moments to scan the contents of the office. It was a rather spartan environment, fitting for a former security guard. There weren't only the basic office necessities and a few scattered news articles on the walls, detailing the work of the support group and Sharp's campaign. Edward noticed a framed picture on the desk. It was of Bryant himself with a group of other Arkham guards. They were probably all dead now, Edward supposed. He idly picked up the picture, tracing his fingers around the edge of the frame. "Friends of yours?" he asked.

"Don't push it Nigma," Bryant warned, shutting the door behind them. It occurred to Edward that it may be in his best interest not to antagonize a man who looked like he could bench press him. Edward put the picture back on the desk.

"Well then, I'll come right to the point. You obviously heard about what happened to Kellerman at the fundraiser last night."

"Well yeah," Bryant answered. "It was all over the news. And I know you're working for Sharp. Did he tell you about me?"

"No, Sharp never mentioned you," Edward said. Sharp hadn't mentioned a lot of things to him. "Mind telling me your whereabouts last night?"

"I was at my own event here. I've got at least fifty people who can verify that. You want their names?"

"In a moment," Edward replied. "There's more. Before the murder, Sharp had been receiving letters. These letters demanded that he tell the truth about what happened during the Joker's riot last year and reveal the murderer responsible for what happened."

Edward paused for a moment to observe Bryant's reaction. He seemed surprised for a moment, but then looked to Edward to continue. Edward obliged. "You haven't exactly been shy about sharing your opinion of Sharp."

Bryant huffed. "Yeah. But any letter I write about Sharp has my name on it. As far as a 'murderer responsible' goes, isn't that obviously the Joker?"

Blunt, but honest. Edward had to concede that the man had a point. "One would think. But then again, grief has a way of making even the most logical people rather irrational. Whoever wrote these letters is under the impression that a doctor was working with Joker, hence Kellerman being killed."

Bryant raised an eyebrow. "That's why Kellerman died? Doc Young was the one who made that TITAN crap."

Edward was taken aback by this. If Bryant knew that, then he couldn't be the killer. Edward shook his head a bit. "It seems that project wasn't as secret as she and Sharp led me to believe. Did all of you know?"

Bryant shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I worked the Arkham Mansion shift. That was where her office was. Me and the other guys who worked it knew she was working on something. After the riot happened and she quit, I kind of put two and two together. I don't blame her for what happened though. Joker almost killed her too."

Well, so much for cracking this case in time for the evening press. If Bryant's alibi checked out, and he suspected it would, Edward now was back to square one. Then again, he thought, Bryant was a former security guard who voluntarily left the Asylum on account of Sharp. He could be a useful source of information.

"Besides," Bryant continued. "If I was going to get rid of any doctor at Arkham, it'd be Dr. Strange."

"Dr. Strange? Hugo Strange?" Edward repeated. He remembered that doctor. Last he'd heard, he was out of the country. When had he returned to Arkham? More importantly, why hadn't Sharp told him about Strange being at Arkham?

"One and the same," Bryant nodded. "Young wasn't gone for more than a day before he took over her job as head of research."

Edward felt a chill go down his spine at that. Maybe it had been for the best he was in a coma at that time. "And you objected to that?"

"Young wasn't a saint, but at least she had good intentions," Bryant explained. "Strange though...well, I guess I don't have to tell you what he thinks of the patients."

No, he didn't. "I'm a bit surprised. One would think that after what you experienced in the riot, you wouldn't be too sympathetic towards my type."

Bryant rolled his eyes. "Oh come on man. It's not just 'your type' at Arkham. There are a lot of sick people there who aren't criminals. They didn't deserve Strange turning the place into a gulag."

"I thought Strange was just the head of research. Sharp's still the warden."

"Yeah, in name only. After Strange came on board, Sharp started campaigning even more. He barely came to the asylum after that. He'd only show up if he absolutely had to or for a photo op. He let Strange take over. After he let Strange fire Aaron, I quit."

"I see." Edward was starting to get a clearer picture of what Arkham had become in his abscence. "And the support group?"

"I started it up when I left the asylum. After the riot, Sharp made a big speech about how the 'tragedy at Arkham' was just another example of how Commissioner Gordon and Mayor Hill had failed this city. About how he was the only one who could make Gotham safe again." Bryant's face darkened. "The only thing Sharp cared about was how he could use the riot to help himself. He let Strange push out anyone who wasn't on board with toughening Arkham up, and he can't spare five minutes for anyone of the survivors or the family members of the guards and patients who died. Fuck, he can't even be bothered to show up at his own asylum anymore. When I was still there, he'd send his own campaign staff to pick things up for him at his office."

Edward had been absently following along when the last part of what Bryant had said sank in. "Sharp's campaign staff have access to his office at the Asylum?"

"They did while I was there. They probably still do."

No. How had he missed this? How had he not even considered this? He'd assumed that it was an inside job from the beginning, but he'd gotten attached to the security guard theory-security guard!

"Thank you for your time," he said to Bryant hastily. "I'll need the names of the people who were with you last night. Just to verify your alibi of course."

Bryant gave him a confused look, but nodded. "Yeah. Here," he walked over to his desk and pulled out a list. Before he gave it to Edward, he gave him a quizzical look. "Just one thing: I thought you were working for Sharp to solve this. Why do you want to know so much about him and the Asylum? Do you think he's involved?"

"Do you?" Edward asked, taking the sheet of paper from Bryant and sticking it into his pocket. "Besides, I'm just taking his money. Solving the case is what I'm really here for. Would it be alright if I canebrakes to you again? For further information?"

Bryant blinked, then grinned. "Yeah, that's fine. If Sharp's involved, take him out."

Edward left the office and made his way towards the front door of the building, ignoring the glares of the dumpy secretary. He'd been in talking with Bryant longer than he thought. Dusk was beginning to fall on Gotham. Edward ignored his surroundings as his mind went over the facts in his head. Every new variation he came up with led to the same conclusion: he didn't know who the murderer was still, but he knew who did. And Sharp or Strange, he wasn't sure which yet, or both, knew from the beginning what was going on and had let him stumble about like a damn fool. What was their game?

Meh was so preoccupied by his thoughts that he didn't notice the dark shadow following him until it had grabbed onto him and pulled him into an alley way.

"Hey!" he cried out, until he got a look at who it was. "God, I hate when you do that!"

"I've been through Arkham's security protocol," Batman said matter of factly, releasing Nigma's arm. "On each of the nights the letters were dropped off, Sharp's key card was used to access his office."

"That makes sense," Edward huffed, brushing off his sleeve. "According to one Joe Bryant, Sharp's been in the habit of allowing his campaign staff access to his Arkham office. You can add that to the list of things Sharp's been holding back from me."

"There's more," the Dark Knight said. "The security cameras on each night in question were cut out each night the letters would have been dropped off after the first letter. The footage from that first night is missing."

Strange then. That would fit in with Bryant's depiction of him as the real man in charge at Arkham. "My initial theory is still correct," Edward said. "It was an inside job after all."

"I'm not hear to prove your theories right," Batman said with a slight edge. "What else have you found out?"

"I don't know who the murderer is, but I'm confident I know who sent the letters. But first, I think I need to speak with my client."

"The security guard, Dennis?"

Edward gaped a bit at the vigilante, then glared. "And how long have you known?"

"I don't. But he's the only one if the campaign staff who has the flexibility to make the trip. He should be with Sharp now. Let's go, 'partner'."

"Oh, are we doing this together now? Don't you trust me?" Edward asked acerbically.

Batman ignored him, walking towards his where his own ridiculous car must have been parked. Edward couldn't resist adding one last parting shot.

"He's my client! I'm taking the lead when it comes to questioning him!"

Batman made no response, having already disappeared. With a frustrated groan, Edward fished out his cell phone. He'd be damned if he let the Dark Knight beat him to Sharp.

"Warden? It's Edward Nigma. I need to meet with you. Urgently. I know who sent the letters."