Chapter Three
Riddle me this
The office was quiet and darkened and Jim Gordon asked himself why he was here, yet again at this ungodly hour.
The answer was he couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept soundly in six months, since taking the job of Commissioner of Gotham Police Force.
Another masked psychopath was terrorising Gotham. But unlike the brutality of the Joker, this man seemed more sedate; he enjoyed the material pleasures in life, like diamonds and wads of cash that didn't belong to him. He called himself 'The Riddler', Gordon guessed because of the fact that he had a fondness for leaving little notes, little clues at his most recent crime scenes. Little puzzles to make the mind work. Gordon was tired of clown killers and masked geniuses. Gotham was turning into a three ringed circus and yet their new Mayor was claiming that the city was crawling out of the pit of despair it had been engulfed in for so long.
This last one had Gordon awake at all hours. His family hadn't seen him properly in weeks. And he had come so close to loosing them, as if he hadn't lost enough already.
His work colleagues didn't look at him the same way any more. He wasn't one of them.
He had lost two of his most trusted detectives, Woods and Ramirez, people he had trusted implicitly and vouched for, the whole time they were working with the mob.
Ramirez's deceit had cost Rachel Dawes her life and Harvey Dent his sanity.
Gordon was suddenly aware of how cold it was in his office and rubbing his arms he turned, alarmed to see an open window behind him.
Jumping to his feet, his hand automatically reaching for the gun in his desk draw, he turned and cried out at the figure stood before him in the shadows.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he released the gun and stared at the dark figure.
"Working late?" came the gruff voice and Gordon ran a hand through his hair nervously.
He trusted Batman, but still the sight of him, his very presence set him on edge.
"Call it an early start," Jim replied, "I wasn't expecting you…but then whoever is? We haven't seen you in a while,"
"That was the idea wasn't it?" Batman replied his voice low as he stepped from the shadows, his eyes two black holes in the mask.
"It wasn't an idea I liked, but I accept your reasons. You're being blamed for everything from missing cats to factory fires in Basin City,"
"Harvey had to remain the hero…we couldn't let Gotham find out how easily the Joker turned him…that he had won,"
Gordon stared at the formidable man in front of him.
"So why are you here?" he asked, "I could use your help with something if you have time?"
"If you mean 'The Riddler, it hasn't gone unnoticed. But that isn't why I'm here,"
Batman stepped forward and took something from under the cloak around him. It was a childishly scribbled note. He placed it on Gordon's desk and he stared down at it.
"I need a DNA match on this note. I believe it came from the Joker's cell, he wrote it and had it hand delivered,"
Gordon frowned. "To who? The Joker has been locked away securely for the past six months,"
"I can't tell you who but I'm sure it's his writing. He wouldn't make a careless mistake like that; he wants us to know it's him,"
Gordon picked up the note carefully.
"I'll have a test run straight away. But your not giving me much to go on," he peered down at it and scanned it quickly, "Miss West? Would that be anything to do with Siren West?"
Batman stepped away, not wishing to reveal too much information at this point.
"Where were you when the West kidnapping happened?" he asked Gordon instead.
Gordon sighed. "Uhh…1993…I was a detective working downtown, but I knew the guy who ran the investigation, he died recently in a drugs bust,"
"Was there any information about that case that didn't reach the papers? Anything that wasn't disclosed?"
Gordon raised his eyebrows, sighing.
"It wouldn't have been information that would have been flung around like gossip. The West case was sensitive, because of the husband…he didn't like the fact that his wife was a famous actress and felt that the whole thing was her fault. There was a rumour that he never wanted to put up the ransom…in the end it was too late anyway,"
"Is there any way of getting that information? It's important,"
"I can talk with some guys I knew from back then,"
"Then do it, quickly and quietly,"
"How will I contact you? We destroyed the Bat signal," he called after him as he turned to leave.
"I'll be in touch,"
Then into the darkness he vanished, like he always did, leaving Gordon feeling prickly and unnerved.
He looked down at the note and sighed.
He preyed that Batman was wrong. The Joker had become a memory, hidden away in a cell. He wanted him to stay that way, as he feared he wouldn't live through it the next time.