Chapter 2
Commissioner Gordon sat in his office, facing the young girl that the police had just brought in. Earlier that night the station had received a call from a waitress stating that a girl, no older than twelve, was wondering the streets of Gotham. The fact that she was carrying a sword seemed to spark the police's interest. Who was she? Where had she come from?
Jim had decided to send out detective Bullock to look for the child. It didn't take long before she was found and brought to the GCPD. Unfortunately the girl wasn't talking much; she just kept staring into space or at her precious sword.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" Jim asked, trying his best to make conversation with the girl.
"Jessica," the girl replied quietly, not looking up from the desk.
'Well that's a start' the Commissioner thought to himself. "What's your surname?"
"Redman."
"Where are your parents, Jessica?"
Jessica didn't answer; instead she began nervously rolling her thumbs. The Commissioner decided that another tactic was in order. He reached over and carefully picked up Jessica's sword. As he predicted, his action made Jessica look up at him.
Jim smiled, "I like your sword. Did your parents give it to you?"
Jessica smiled back; she was beginning to like this guy. "My dad gave it to me for my tenth birthday."
"Lucky you; all my dad gave me was a pair of slippers and a box in the ear for throwing up on his couch," he winked at Jessica and she giggled a little.
"So where are your folks now?" The Commissioner put the sword back on his desk.
"My Mom died soon after I was born, and I lost my dad a few weeks ago. That's why I came here; I've got no other relatives which means I'll to go into care which I don't want to do. My friend used to live in a children's home and she said it was horrible."
"Well Jessica, from what you've told me it doesn't seem like you've got a choice. With no relatives to take care of you, there's nowhere else you can go."
"But there is!" Jessica insisted. "My Dad has a friend who lives here. I've met him once and he was a really nice guy. I could go and stay with him."
"Look, Miss Redman, you can't just go and stay with a person just like that; especially if they're not a relative. There are things that need to be checked out."
"But what am I suppose to do, sir? I don't want to go back into care." Tears had begun to form in Jessica's eyes, but she roughly wiped them away and avoided the Commissioner's soft yet stern gaze. It was as if she was ashamed of her tears.
He didn't know why, but Jim began to feel sorry for the girl. "Tell you what, while my colleagues check out this friend why don't you come and stay with me?"
Jessica looked up in surprise. "Really? Are you sure? 'Cus I don't want to intrude or anything."
"Of course I'm sure," Jim smiled. "You can stay in my daughter's old room."
"Wow, thanks Mr. Gordon"
"You're welcome. By the way, just how good are you with that sword?"
Jessica grinned; she loved it when people wanted her to demonstrate her sword fighting talent. She picked up a pencil from the commissioner's desk and gave it to him. "Could you hold this up please?"
Jim did as he was told, though he had a strong suspicion he knew what was about to occur. Jessica lifted up her sword, and then made sure the Commissioner's arm was held out straight.
She swung the sword above her head. The Commissioner's eye's widened, "Are you sure-"
Too late; the sword whistled through the air, slicing the pencil a centimeter from where Jim's fingers were clutching it. Jim dropped the part of the pencil her was still holding and took a deep breath.
"See? I'm quite good aren't I?"
Jim had to laugh at the young girl's sureness. "Well you're better than me, I'll give you that."
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"Have you found out anymore about the sugar?" Robin asked as he descended the darkened steps into the Batcave.
"Not yet," his mentor replied, "but I'm guessing that the sugar is definitely something to do with the carnival he owns."
"Does he still use that carnival?" Robin asked skeptically. He took a drink from the soda he had just gotten from the kitchen, slurping as he drank. He soon stopped when Batman gave him a piercing glare.
"He uses it occasionally; I think it's a sort of retreat for him. There are people there who he can relate to, people like him."
"You mean the freaks that live there?"
The dark knight silently nodded, "they and the Joker have something in common."
"They're freaks?"
"They're both different than everyone else."
Just then Alfred came down the stairs, clutching an envelope. "Sir, this was just posted to you a few minutes ago. I must say I found it rather strange that you should be receiving male at almost midnight."
Batman took the envelope and studied it carefully. It was a typical A5 sized and the address had been typed out. The only difference was that this envelope was green not white. He turned the envelope over and wasn't surprised to find a question mark on the back, signifying who the letter (if that's what it was) was from.
"Riddler."
The Riddler was one of the only villains who knew Batman's secret identity. As such, he hadn't used it so far, but by the looks of things that had changed.
The dark knight scanned the envelopes contents to check if there weren't any hidden surprises before he opened it.
The enveloped contained a single piece of green paper. On it someone – probably the Riddler – had taken the time to cut out words from a newspaper and arrange them to make a riddle:
WE'RE TOO MANY TO COUNT SO DON'T EVEN TRY.
WE SEND CHILDREN TO SLEEP AT NIGHT.
ON OUR OWN WE'RE NOTHING BUT GRITTY.
BUT MIX US TOGETHER AND WE'VE BUILT THIS CITY.
WHAT ARE WE?
"That's easy: grains of sand. Too many to count, the sandman, and sand is one of the materials used in making cement. But what's that got to do with the Riddler?"
"I think I know, Robin," Batman replied. "Fifteen years ago there was a cement factory near the Gotham harbor. It was closed until recently when someone turned it into a gaming factory to market the creation of the new 'Sands of time' game."
"Wow, Sands of time! I love that game!" Robin exclaimed, "Though I'm still trying to get passed level five. I never knew dung beetles could be that hard to kill."
"Have you tried stepping on them?"
"……..That might work."
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Jim Gordon's house was a three bed roomed terrace with a reasonable sized garden out the back. Most of the flowers had been planted by his late wife, Sarah and Jim had been trying his best to keep them blooming every year in her memory.
"Wow!" Jessica exclaimed when they stepped into the Commissioner's small yet comfortable lounge. "You have a very nice place here, Mr. Gordon."
"Thankyou," Jim replied, taking off his coat and hanging it on a coat hook in the hallway. "Would you like something to drink, Jessica? We have apple juice or blackcurrant."
"Umm, blackcurrant please."
Jim went into the kitchen to make Jessica's drink, and while he was doing so Jessica took the time to explore the Commissioner's lounge. The three piece suite was typical leather and a pine coffee table was positioned the center of the room. On top of this was a framed photograph of the Commissioner along two women; one had long red hair and was sitting in a wheelchair. The other, older woman had light brown locks and her arm was draped around the Commissioner's shoulders.
When Jim came back in carrying the drinks, Jessica was still looking at the picture. "Who's that?" She asked, taking her drink off the tray.
The Commissioner gazed at the photo and smiled sadly, "that's my daughter and wife."
"Will they mind me staying here?"
"I don't think so. My daughter has her own place, and my wife's…my wife's dead."
"Oh, I'm really sorry to hear that." Jessica was beginning to wish that she hadn't said anything. She could tell just by looking at the man that he missed his wife.
"It's ok," the Commissioner replied. "At least she died doing what she did best: saving a life."
Jessica decided that it would be best not to mention it anymore, so she sat on the sofa and quietly sipped her drink. The commissioner sat in the armchair opposite and raised the TV remote. "Let's see what's on TV tonight shall we?"
The television came on to a newscast. "Gotham's most notorious criminal, the Joker, is still at large. He is armed and considered extremely and mentally dangerous, do not approach him."
Jessica couldn't help but notice the anger that flashed across the Commissioner's face. "Have you ever met the Joker, Mr. Gordon?" She asked.
"Many times," the Commissioner answered sadly. "Many times."
"W-w-what's he like?" Jessica had never met the Joker-not that she wanted to, but she had many things of his crimes from her father during her training.
"He's a monster," Jim replied simply. "A psychopath filled with darkness, and I hope you never meet him. He takes sick, humorous pleasure in the crimes he commits and-"
But whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a loud knock at the door.
"Now who on earth could that be," the Commissioner rose from his seat, "stay here Jessica."
Jessica nodded and remained where she was on the sofa. She listened as Jim walked into the hallway and opened the front door.
Suddenly there came a cry of horror from the Commissioner, followed by a loud thud.
"Mr. Gordon!" Jessica cried, leaping off the couch. She rushed into the hallway and skidded to a halt at the scene in front of her.
Jim Gordon was slumped in an unconscious heap on the floor. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead.
Standing over him was a tall man in a purple over coat and a wide brimmed hat that covered his face.
The figure gave a giggle that sent shivers down Jessica's spine. "Ooh and he's down for the count, what a knock out! Hahahahah!" He suddenly turned and looked directly at Jessica, who stood frozen to the spot in terror.
Standing in front her was the man who only a few minutes ago had been on the news.
The Joker.
"Well, well, well," the Joker cackled. "Who do we have here?"