Chapter 4: Under Pressure

I'm not exactly pleased with this chapter. I have stared at it forever and just don't know what else to add to make it better. It's more or less throwing some more questions into the mix as to who is doing the copycat killings.

The black gates of ABC Chemical, a closed down chemical industry site, were screeching on their hinges as the officers drove through them. The "DANGER: KEEP OUT" was holding on by a single clasp on the mesh like fence. Mud holes in the forgotten pavement were filled ruddy water that contained numerous parasites and mosquito larvae. The darkness that surrounded the site gave the building an appearance of a scary, decrepit grandparent that filled a child's nightmares. Red and blue lights flickered high in the dark sky. Three police vehicles and an ambulance were parked in the old parking lot. A uniformed officer was performing the menial task of posting a 'do not cross' sign as the media started to slowly trickle in with their bright lights and cameras.

Bagheera and Mark pulled themselves out of the town car and hurried towards the scene of the crime before the media vultures hassled them for questions on who their possible suspect, which there wasn't any at the moment, was. Bagheera was happy in the knowledge that Jack Ryder would not be on scene tonight and instead be cozying up with a cup of shitty coffee while being hassled by the young officer and her partner.

Commissioner Gordon made his way towards them as they entered the entrance of the chemical plant. His face was long as they met up.

"What's up Commish," Mark asked, keeping his eyes on his boss as Bagheera's eyes moved towards the scene of the crime.

She could see a body dangling from the catwalk with a chain wrapped around the midsection. From her position in the building, she could see the flesh had been burned from the acid. Her heart sank for the poor creature that had been put through a burning hell.

"The body was burned," she asked as she pulled her sight away from the seared flesh of the victim and gave her attention to Gordon.

"It wasn't from any known ABC chemical," Gordon informed the two detectives, "one of their old cronies came here as soon as word broke through that a murder happened here."

"Let me guess," Mark said with a roll of his eyes, "they wanted to save their asses from another lawsuit because of their previous losses."

"No," the husky voice of the Batman announced as he stood beside him.

"Jesus," Mark stated in slight shock as he moved away from the masked vigilante that had appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. Bagheera stifled the chuckle that begged to escape from inside of her, but she realized that there was a dead body swinging in the air and thought it was in distaste to the dead. The memory of how the Batman had first approached her in the middle of the night, she could see Mark's fingers pressing lightly on his gun that sat inside of his holster.

"He does that," Gordon informed his detective.

"What's up Bats," Bagheera asked casually as she looked up to the masked billionaire playboy that she forced herself to dissociate the two. She really couldn't stand the Batman and how he butted in at the most inopportune times, but he usually made great jumps in deductions.

"ABC Chemical was a rumor mill during the Joker's first appearances," he informed them, "Some people said that he had been pushed into a vat of chemicals by me."

Bagheera shook her head as she recalled the almost unknown rumor that had no evidence at all to support it, "A great story. The hero creates the villain," she ran her hand through her hair as the stress bubbled inside of her, the murders had started so quickly that she hadn't had the time to interview anyone that could give them insight, "almost biblical Batman."

The Batman huffed at her sarcastic reply.

"That rumor wasn't widespread," Gordon said, "So-"

"It's someone on the inside," Bagheera interrupted as the realization hit her lick a bucket of ice water that

"You think a cop did this," Mark asked quickly as if he were personally offended by the accusation against a fellow law enforcement officer.

"It's not out of the realm of possibility," Bagheera informed him in a harsh tone, "Especially in Gotham."

"But why-"

"It could also be the Joker," Batman offered.

Bagheera tore her attention away from her partner and back to the Batman. Confusion glittered in her eyes.

"The Joker has lots of people working for him," she said with a shake of her hand, "But I very seriously doubt that he would be having someone half ass copying his murders."

"He's right," Gordon offered, "Would you put it passed him?"

"The Joker is smart," Batman stated, "If he could cause chaos and put the city at ease-"

"All of these crimes are related to him," Mark added, "These crimes are all intimate details that only a few people would know about."

Bagheera shook her head as speechlessness overcame her. She wasn't sure if she should put that bit passed him or believe that he would do such a thing just to keep her busy. He was a narcissist, why would he want someone else taking credit for what he had accomplished?

"So what, we have you, the deceased DA, Gordon, Batty, and the Joker that knows about the Joker's in depth details about his crimes," Mark informed them as he turned to look to the Batman to see that he had disappeared just as silently as he had appeared, "Where'd he go?"

"He does that too," Gordon explained with a hint of a smile on his lips to the detective that had never had the opportunity before to meet the Batman in a small pow wow.

"And Harleen Quinzel, she knows intimate details about the Joker," Bagheera informed them while her brain whispered that William and Bob had known as well, but she quickly dismissed the thought of her future husband being involved, but clung to the idea that Bob could have something to do with it all. She shook her head and looked to her superior, "I don't think Jack Ryder is involved. There's no way that he knows those details."

"You still want to question him," Mark asked as he looked over to his more experienced partner. He watched as she glided her long fingers through her hair as she thought the question over.

"Ask him where he's gotten his information from," she informed her partner, "Tell him if he co-operates that I will give him a one on one interview. He will be the first to have the exclusive story-"

"I don't think-"

"I'm sorry Commissioner," Bagheera offered in an almost bitter tone, "but in this case, there's nothing else we can get. There hasn't been any evidence of-"

"The backlash on this could be bad, Bagheera," Gordon informed her in an almost fatherly tone.

"Has the media ever been kind to me before," she asked, but gave him a soft smile and placed her hand lightly upon his shoulder as she added, "but I really do appreciate the sentiment, Gordon, but," her eyes trailed away from her superior and towards the body that was being pulled from its dangling position to see the forensic coroner, "We have to catch this creep. If it's the Joker, then I have to find a way to disconnect him from the outside world," she looked back to Gordon, "It's only a short amount of time until he decides to make his move."

"He's already killed two," Mark answered, "Didn't the Joker kill-"

"But this creep isn't following a set pattern," Bagheera informed her partner, "He's killed two. He's doing it fast. The Joker didn't do things fast. He made me wait for his next plans. This time it's different. It's going to happen like wham, bam thank you mam."

...

Bagheera walked into the interrogation room where Harleen Quinzel had been brought in to wait for her. The clock ticked over and over again in the grey brick room at half past eight at night. She had just received word from Gordon that Jack Ryder had no information that he could give them. He had told them that the information that he had been given had come from the Internet and from old YouTube videos from people that had recorded the events in Gotham during the Joker's reign of terror.

She gave the psychiatrist a small smile as she walked in. Bagheera watched as the doctor quickly glanced at her side piece that sat in its home in the holster upon her waist. The detective smiled at the fact that no one ever realized that she still hid a second weapon under her shirt.

"You went with the green," Harley announced in her high pitched Jersey accent as she looked over Bagheera's emerald green button up blouse, "it goes with that hair!"

"Well thank you," Bagheera answered with a bright smile, "You were originally a hair stylist weren't you Dr. Quinzel, is that right?"

"Yes mam," she answered politely, "That's how I paid my way through school. Daddy helped pay for some, but ya know how us wild girls can be. He cut me off after, well," she waved her hand with a smile, "you probably know the rest."

"If you don't want to talk about it," Bagheera informed her as she took a seat across from the good doctor, "we don't have to."

"So what do you want to talk about, Detective Lewis?"

"The Joker," she informed Harleen, "I want to know what he talks to you about. Nothing too revealing, I get doctor-patient confidentiality. I'm sure everything that he's told you, he's told me."

"That's not true," Harleen answered quickly with slight annoyance in her voice. Her voice lowered in pitch as she looked up at Bagheera. She fiddled with her nails in nervousness and quickly cast her eyes away from the detective's bright blue eyes that reminded of her of photographs of the psychiatrist that had once worked at the hospital before she had found a place there.

Bagheera lifted brow at the woman's sudden strange behavior, "What do you mean, Dr. Quinzel?"

"He tells me things," Harleen answered, "He likes to talk about you."

"What does he say about me," Bagheera asked, she felt surprise at herself for asking that question. Harleen had told her that information before, but she had ignored it.

"Well," Harleen answered as she pulled her focus back to Bagheera, "when I first interviewed me he told me that he had met someone," she pointed at Bagheera, "he was talking about you, Detective Lewis. He wouldn't say your name though. He just said things had happened pretty badly between the two of you."

"Yeah," Bagheera said with a growing smile of pride, "I shot him."

"He said you came to visit him," Harleen added quickly.

Bagheera took her turn to look down at her fingers and fiddle with her growing nails.

"Was it guilt," Harleen asked in an attempt to psychoanalyze the detective.

"I visited the last one too," Bagheera lied in an almost expert like fashion, "It's part of the job unfortunately. It didn't mean anything."

"Ahh," Harleen answered with a simple nod of her head.

"So how long have you been trying to work with him," Bagheera asked, "Crawford told me he's refused to talk with any other doctors at Arkham."

"Well I started working there about three months ago," Harleen answered, "He only started speaking with me in the last month or so."

"Harleen," Bagheera said, "May I call you Harleen?"

"It's fine," Harleen answered, "Mistah J calls me Harley?"

"Mister J," Bagheera asked in slight confusion, "You mean the Joker?"

"Yeah," Harleen said as her cheeks reddened in slight embarrassment. He gave me a nickname, I gave him one."

"That's not very professional Harleen," Bagheera informed her in a tone that sounded like a motherly warning, "In fact, that's worrisome," she shook her head as she reached out to the naïve woman, "The Joker is dangerous and very, very manipulative."

"Oh no," Harleen said with a nervous chuckle, "it's not like that. I know what he is," her tone took on a defensive tone, "He's told me his story."

"Which story did he tell you Harleen?"

She shrugged her shoulders and answered, "It's personal. I can't tell you that."

"Well I can tell you what he told me," Bagheera informed her while she stood up and walked to stand behind the naïve doctor, "He told me that while his lips were being cut his daughter was taken," she shrugged her shoulders, "He told Gordon that his father did it in a drunken rage. He told his recently deceased lawyer that he only does the things that he does because this one time his dad took him to the carnival and the clowns were the only thing that made his father laugh. He always wanted to make his father laugh so he put on a daddy's best Sunday pants and ripped them. His father almost beat him to death. Which one of those did he happen to give you?"

"He said it was a circus," Harleen answered in slight anger as she turned to look at Bagheera.

"He has a bunch of them," Bagheera said with a shrug as she leaned against the wall, "He'll tell you anything to get your sympathy."

"I don't sympathize for him," Harleen reassured her and rolled her eyes, "I'm just trying to help him work through his problems. I want to fix him."

"That's the same tune that wives of convicted felons and death row inmates say," Bagheera informed her, "You're a very smart girl, Harleen. I don't want to see anything bad happen to you."

"Nothing will," Harleen reassured her, "I'm not that easily manipulated, Detective Lewis."

Bagheera was pulled back to the time when she had said the exact same thing about herself. The Joker had manipulated her slightly, not enough to actually be a concern, but he had indeed changed her way of looking at things and how she had reacted to things.

"Is this stint almost over with?"

"Just one more question," Bagheera answered as she pushed herself away from the wall and moved towards the door, "Has the Joker or you talked to anyone outside of the walls at Arkham?"

"I haven't," Harleen answered with an honest sparkle in her eyes and crossed her heart with her manicured nails, "Cross my heart and hope to die. But there was this one visitor."

"Do you remember his name?"

"I think it was Robert," Harleen asked as she tried to think back, "Robby, Bobby? Something like that."

Bagheera smiled. The young woman had given her the answer to part of the riddle that was going on in Gotham.

"You're free to go, Harleen," Bagheera said as she pulled the door open.

Harleen smiled as she pushed herself away from the table. She walked by Bagheera and stopped just as she saw the detective's hand land protectively on her shoulder.

"Take this," Bagheera demanded softly as she handed the doctor her card, "My cell number is on the back. You call me if you are in trouble, you got that Harleen?"

Bagheera watched as the woman allowed her fingertips to caress the cotton fiber paper of the card.

"I don't care what the trouble is. I know you are a strong woman, but just in case," Bagheera informed her in a motherly fashion, "you call me if you need anything. I'm not joking now."

"I gotcha," Harleen answered as she hurriedly placed the card inside of her purse and quickly exited the room, "I have to go, Detective. I have an early morning."

"Be safe, Harleen."

...

The Joker smiled as he pulled the well hidden cell phone, that he had pickpocket earlier in the day from his abusive guard, from the small pouch that he had ripped into the seams of the lumpy mattress. No one had ever checked his room, considering that he was rarely ever taken out. The only time he had been taken out of his little room was for a thirty minute exercise that had usually been stopped at ten minutes by the guards in an attempt to irritate him.

He dialed the number that he had memorized from the first day that he had received the information. He had known making contact with the detective that had been brought in to bring him down would have indeed brought him down, but he had taken that chance and was now paying for those choices.

The phone rang twice before he heard the sleepy sigh. He lay back on his bed and smiled as he listened to the woman on the other end of the line force herself out of a deep sleep. He waited patiently for her to answer the silence.

Bagheera took a deep breath as a surge of hatred rippled through her at whoever had decided to wake her up at three in the morning after her long day. She turned slightly to see Barba moving ever so slightly, but not waking up, from the loud interruption. Light snores escaped him as she pulled herself from the bed before finally answering the silence on the other end of the line.

"Hello," she asked in a soft, sleepy voice.

"Hello Baggy," the Joker purred with a large smile on his face as he lay on his back on the lumpy bed.

A rush of freezing fear moved over her.

"Where are you," she asked as she looked around the small room. Barba's gun lay forgotten on his bedside table along with an empty glass of whiskey that he had sucked on while she was still at work. When she had arrived home, he was already asleep with case files spread upon his chest that reminded of her of how she had once been when she had first been assigned the Joker's case.

"Right where you left me," the Joker asked as he sucked upon his lip, "Were you hoping I was somewhere else, Baggy?"

Bagheera forced herself out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Her heart beat inside of her chest as she fully awoke and realized who she was speaking with on the phone.

"Are you pulling the strings on all of this," she asked as she quickly ran down the stairs.

"You'll have to be more specific," he said in a sing song voice.

"This copycat," she answered, "He's good," she allowed a soft smile to cross her face, "He may be better than you actually. How do you feel about that?"

"You're gonna catch him Baggy," the Joker informed her, "the answer is right there," he licked his lips as he examined his broken nails, "as plain as that pretty lil nose on your face."

"What do you mean Joker?"

"Call me Mister J," the Joker said with a strange softness in his voice.

"I'd prefer not to," she answered, now fully back into their way of talking with each other, quick and full of little shots against each other, "This person wants to kill me. He believes that was your original plan," she paused as she leaned against the wall in the living room, her eyes moved to the couch where she had first touched Barba, "Was it?"

The Joker's loud laughter slammed into her ear and she quickly pulled the phone away from her ear.

"You know I don't want to kill you," the Joker said loudly through his giggles, "I need you."

"Why?"

"Well my little guard problem still hasn't been taken care of," he answered in a matter of fact tone.

"I remember," she answered, "but I need to know who I am going up against before I help you."

"So a sort of I scratch your back, you scratch mine then huh, Baggy?"

Bagheera swallowed her pride as she realized what she was doing. She needed his help to protect her own life. She felt the pressure of the stressful situation that she had been put under pressing down on her shoulders. She looked over to the liquor cabinet filled with Barba's many bottles of expensive bourbon and considered pouring her a glass, but quickly decided against it knowing that she didn't cope with job related stress in the same way that her soon to be husband did with his job related stresses.

"Exactly," she answered without another moment of hesitation, "I don't want to die at the hands of some shithead copycat."

"Who do you trust, Baggy," he asked quickly with a soft chuckle at her words.

The sudden question took her by surprise; she was speechless momentarily as she decided who she could trust.

"My fiancé," she answered.

"Are you sure that you can trust him, Baggy?"

"You aren't going to twist my mind Joker. I love William. You won't turn me against him," she answered in a warning as she glared at the door. Her free hand fiddled with the buttons on Barba's old shirt that she had kidnapped from him long ago.

"Who else can you trust," he asked simply, there was no hint of menace or glee in his voice as he asked the simple question.

"Gordon," she answered, "I can trust Gordon," she paused as she looked around the house, her eyes guided up the stairs and she lowered her voice to a whisper as she asked, "Can I really trust you?"

"Now, Baggy, that's not the right question," the Joker chided as if he were a caring adult, "you know the answer to that. I'll tell you that you can trust me, and you won't believe that I am untrustworthy. Ask me the right questions, Bagheera."

His voice was almost purr like as he said her full first name. A shiver rushed down at her spine and she mentally slapped herself at the effect that it had on her.

"I don't know how you want me to ask you," she admitted in defeat. She closed her eyes as her fingers slid through her hair.

There wasn't an answer on the other end of the line. She could hear his soft breathing and she felt a strange comfort come over her, the same comfort that she felt from a long day at work when she lay next to her sleeping district attorney.

"I do trust you Joker," she admitted as she looked back up the stairs, "Tell me what's going to happen. How is he doing this? What's his plan?"

"How much do you love the district attorney?"

"Joker," she stated in slight anger as he tried to change the subject, "Lives are on the line. My life is in jeopardy. We don't have time."

"You'll have to choose," he informed her in a dark tone.

"What," she asked, her heart dropped into her stomach at the strange information that he was giving her.

"You'll have to choose between one life or the other," he answered cryptically. It had been the same words he had given the Batman when Dent and his girlfriend had been taken. This time he meant it in a much darker way that would eventually place her in a difficult situation.

Bagheera felt as if cold water had been dumped on her once again. That old fear and doubt rushed through her veins as his cryptic words surged through the grey material in her brain.

"What do you-"

"It's not a man a runnin' the show, Baggy," he informed her, "When it comes to killing, I've always been a uh equal opportunist. A woman is behind all of this."

"It's a man that's killing those people," she said in a dark tone, "He wants to recreate what you-"

"Baggy, don't be so uh glib," he interrupted with a warning tone, "don't doubt a woman."

"What's her name? How do you know this," she asked quickly, "Who is the next target?"

There was no answer from his end. Bagheera felt her heart beat as adrenaline slowly started to replace the cold fear that had surged through her body.

"Joker," she whispered, with a slight begging lilt to it, "Tell me who she is."

She felt her legs go weak as the dizzy spell washed over her again. She slid to the floor and waited for his reply, but there was none.

"Joker," she whispered once again.

"To-da-loo Baggy," he said and the phone conversation was over.

Bagheera shook her head as she allowed the cell phone to fall from her ear. The person pulling the strings was a woman. She had to find the killer and the killer would lead her to the puppet master.

...

In the darkness of the small apartment office, careful fingers cut a picture of Bagheera and the Joker out of an old newspaper. A small lamp cast the only light within the small office. A brown pushpin board was nailed into the old wall where in the corners, cobwebs and dust collected. The radio played old eighties hits in the background. The volume was low enough so his neighbors would not be disturbed.

"Baggy and Joker sitting in a tree," the unseen man sang to himself as he pinned the pictures together.

Beside their pictures, photographs of Ashley Davies, the Batman symbol, Commissioner Gordon, and Detective Hamill were also pinned upon the board. Random articles that followed the magnicide plots of Clown Prince of Crime along with various works of fiction of sexualized encounters between the Joker and his detective littered the wall.

Cigarette smoke filled the small office as the man looked at his work. He had a decent salary from his regular job, and he was going to make enough money to retire off of once his work with Bagheera was complete.

He was well on his way to getting out of Gotham City alive while taking revenge on the woman that had placed the city's most beloved monster in prison. Soon he would have her in his grasp. He just had one more person to take care of.

He was going to kill the district attorney of Gotham City, just as the Joker had done to Harvey Dent.

Dun dun dun!

There wasn't a Joker/Bagheera scene last chapter so I felt like I had to make it up to you all. I hope I didn't disappoint.

So I actually really like the idea that Bagheera wants to help Harley before something bad happens to her? I think she realizes that something is going to happen to Harley and she wants to be that person that tries to help and stop that (like a lot of officers do for young kids that seem to be going down the wrong path...they will try to do as much as they can to keep that kid out of actual jail)

What do you think about this chapter? And I decided that I should give you a little insider on who the copycat killer is doing at the moment.

Reviews are amazing :)