10. Riddles

"Good morning, Jonathan - that is, if you believe in good mornings. Which I'm sure you don't. In which case, I'll rephrase my first greeting to simply: 'It's morning, Jonathan.' Better?" Edward opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of orange juice, pouring some into a glass. "By the way, I had a thought last night... Well, many thoughts, but a single one pertaining to you... You still need to make another costume. And, you're going to need it by tonight. I assume you have some material somewhere around here?"

"I'll find something."

"If you touch the upholstery on the couch, or the curtains on the two windows, or the sheets on my bed - any of those - then I will set your hair on fire and dump you in a vat of gasoline, Jonathan."

"And, then, I'm sure you and the flying monkeys can all go celebrate. Be careful around water, though."

"I'm serious, Jonathan!"

"And, you think the Witch of the West was joking?"

"Don't touch my furniture! Or furnishings! Or decorations! Nothing, okay? Just make something quickly out of whatever junk you have lying around! That's usually about what your costumes look like, anyway... A bunch of random pieces of cloth sewn together. Do you even have a sewing machine?"

"I prefer hand-sewing."

"You're going to be working all day, if you hand-sew a whole outfit!"

"I already have a mask."

Edward sighed in frustration. "Have you already made all the toxin? You don't need to make more for tonight, do you?"

"All one hundred twenty-six doses must be transferred to vials."

"Vials? What are they in, now?"

"Beakers, of course."

"They were all in vials when you were making them! Why didn't you just leave them there?"

"The shape of the glass makes the chemicals settle differently."

"That doesn't make sense! That logic goes against everything anyone who knows a thing about chemistry has ever been taught!"

"Do not question me, Edward. You said yourself yesterday that the effects of my toxin are difficult to comprehend - even for The Riddler. Why shouldn't the brewing of it be just as abstract?"

"Alright, you know what? This once, just because you're the expert here, I'm going to listen to you and put up with your ridiculous demands. I'll switch all the doses to vials. But, don't expect me to carry any of them tonight! That's your job! So, why don't you hand-sew one hundred twenty-six pockets on the inside of a jacket? That way you can carry them around? Or is that too ridiculous even for you?" Edward gulped down the last bit of orange juice and put the glass in the sink.

"Of course it is. I only need one hundred sixteen pockets. The contents of ten of the vials will be transferred to the syringes on my glove."

Edward groaned, "Oh... Fine! I'm going to take a shower, and then I'm going to go hiring! About how many men do you think we might need? Two? Four? Twelve?"

"Thirteen."

"Ha-ha. Funny. I'm going to go with four, since that's the safest bet. We'll only need them in case something goes wrong, after all. And, what are the odds of that happening?" The Riddler turned away. "I'll work on your 'vial' project when I get home. But, remember: touch anything of mine, and you die!"

"Terrified."

"You're certainly talkative this morning. I didn't expect a reply to the last three things I said. Are you always this way before a job?"

"If you are attempting to imply that I am nervous about the operation tonight, then you are sorely mistaken."

"Really? You sure?" Edward smiled mischeviously. "You sure you're not scared that we might end up back in Arkham?"

"How would we?"

"Well, if something goes wrong, and Batman's there... You and I both know we can't outrun the Bats."

"I don't have to outrun them. Just you and the hired help. Which I have no doubt in my ability to do."

"Right... Actually, that reminds me: do you have a gun, Jonathan? Or do I need to pick up one or something? You know... We always need weapons for emergencies."

"No," Jonathan answered nonchalantly. "I have an old scythe I can use."

"Oh... Even better, then. I'll just let you go all-out-farmer on everyone. Why don't you take some lettuce to throw at people, too? Projectile vegetables! For extra defense."

"When you die, would you rather it be from a bullet through some vital organ or from a curved blade slicing off your head?"

Instinctively, Edward's hand went to his neck, imagining the second option. "Point taken... But, for future reference, I'd prefer just to die of poison."

"Well, you've already missed that opportunity."

Edward's smile disappeared altogether. He probably should have been getting used to the constant death threats... But, the fact that Jonathan had actually followed through with the poisoning made Edward a bit anxious about the scythe remark. "Yes, well... As I said earlier, I'm going to take a shower. Work on your costume. We have to be ready to leave here by eight so that we can map out the grounds when we get there."

Neither of the super-criminals ate that morning. Jonathan was too busy cutting up a brown t-shirt that Edward had bought a few days before. And, when he was finished with that, he busied himself with cutting up an old burlap sack that had once been used to hold potatoes. He cut all the usable cloth away from his previous costume, as well, throwing away all the pieces that were caked in blood. And, then, he began to sew.

Edward, on the other hand, was out running errands. He had to stop by a shop and buy more ammunition for his pistol. Then he had to go find a few musclemen to help with the job that night. But, of course, he couldn't simply walk in and do what he went there to do. Instead, inside the sketchy place, he had to run into someone he knew. And, of all people he could have run into, it had to be Harley Quinn.

"Eddie, is that you? Eddie!" Actually, he hadn't even seen her beforehand. He had barely walked into the place when he was tackled by the crazy girl.

Edward struggled to keep her arms from strangling him in her hug-of-death. "Hello... Harley..."

As instantly as she'd tackled him, she released him from the hug. "Heya, Eddie! Whattaya doin' here?"

The Riddler tried to smooth out the wrinkles she'd created in his suit jacket. "Looking to hire some people for tonight." Then, only out of courtesy, he asked, "And, you?"

"Oh, I'm here scoutin' for Mistah Jay. Puddin' got mad last night, so... We're gonna need five or six guys to replace the old ones."

"I see..." Edward feigned a laugh. Harley's explanation reminded him of why he didn't mind working with the Scarecrow so much. At least Jonathan wasn't as unpredictable as The Joker... "Well, good luck with that."

"Wait, where ya goin'?"

"Hiring. We've already been over this, Harley."

"Oh, right... Sorry, I'm just happy to see ya! Ivy told me that... well... After you escaped, ya know... With Professah Crane... She thought you'd be..." Harley drew a finger across her neck. "Keh. Done for."

Edward's face blanched as he thought again about Jonathan's words. ..."a curved blade slicing off your head"...

"Eddie? You alright?"

Edward nodded numbly. "Right now..."

"I told her she was wrong, but when we didn't see ya on TV with a riddle, I got worried... I shoulda known you can talk your way outta anything, though, Eddie!"

"Yes... I am The Riddler..."

"Um, ya sure yer okay? Ya look kinda pale..."

"I've... been inside almost constantly for the past few months is all. Not enough sunlight. It's finally catching up to me."

Harley nodded. "Okay... Um, see ya later, Eddie! Good luck with the break-in tonight!"

When Harley was gone, Edward quickly hired the first few men he saw. He directed them on where to go that night, and then he left. He walked down the street, not wanting to return to the hideout yet... He was thinking too much. He needed a direct course of action. And, the moment he spotted an old payphone, he made up his mind. He walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver, putting in some money. Then he dialed and waited. "...Yes, Operator? Could you put me through to a taxi service somewhere in Gotham City? It doesn't matter which one..."

Jonathan had almost finished sewing together his scraps of fabric to make the pants for his costume when Edward returned at about one o' clock in the afternoon. The first thing Edward did was grab a bag of chips to eat. When he was finished eating, he took off his green suit jacket so that it wouldn't be wrinkled from laboratory work and walked into the lab.

"How is the Scarecrow costume coming?," Edward asked, shuffling over to the table where over a hundred doses of fear toxin were encased in glass.

Immediately, Jonathan looked up. "Is there something you wish to tell me, Edward?"

"What?" Edward felt the blood rush to his cheeks. How did Jonathan know? What did he know?

"You walked in ten minutes ago. You should have been back an hour ago. And, when you walked in, you didn't even come back here to annoy me for a second before eating. That is irregular behavior on your behalf."

"I thought you didn't like me to be annoying."

"I don't. Hence the word: annoying. But, since when does The Riddler consider what other people like?"

"Since now."

Jonathan continued his stitchwork, but his eyes followed Edward. "I see. And, what kept you the extra hour?"

"What does it matter to you? I'll finish transferring all of your precious toxin in time."

"Did something happen?"

"No, I just... Ran into Harley, okay? She..." He paused. "She asked me to babysit the dogs tonight. After the heist. I tried to get out of it, but I couldn't. I didn't volunteer you because you said you don't like animals. But, I kind of have to, since she's a friend..."

"You're going to watch the hyenas? You are giving up your own, personal time in order to do an unpleasant favor for someone else?"

"Yes."

"I am a selfish man, Edward. Which is why I also recognize that you are a man who is at least as selfish as I am."

"Are you joking? I could have ditched you when you were having leg issues, and you could have stayed here and died!"

"But, you didn't out of guilt."

"Maybe so, but selfish people don't have guilt."

"Considerate people don't plot to send someone to solitary confinement when he's done nothing wrong."

"I felt guilty about that, too, Jonathan! And, I apologized! And, you accepted my apology! So, you can't bring that up anymore!"

"Alright. But, you'll admit you're selfish."

"Not as selfish as you. But, I do things for myself a lot, yes. Still, that doesn't mean I can't do nice things for other people every once in a while!"

"I can tell that something's bothering you, Edward."

"Well, of course it's bothering me. I hate dogs. And, those hyenas are each as big as I am. I'll probably die!"

"At least you won't lose your head."

"..." Edward opened a beaker and poured its contents into a vial. He then repeated the action with a second beaker, and a third.

Jonathan watched, face expressionless. "That wasn't a threat, you know."

"What wasn't?"

"What I said earlier. I know you're paranoid. Severely. It's amusing to see, really. But, if you're going to become unbearably unpleasant, and if it's going to make you so nervous that you can't even properly function, then I'm going to tell you that you don't need to be concerned about me either shooting you or trying to hack your head off. That's not going to happen. I don't have any reason to kill you, and I certainly wouldn't choose any method like that if I were going to kill you. It's not cerebral at all."

"Really? Because it certainly got to my head. I haven't been able to think properly, Jonathan!"

"And, you still aren't going to think properly because you're paranoid enough to think that I'm lying to you right now."

Edward set the beaker that was in his hand down on the counter. "Would you actually tell me if you were planning on killing me?"

"Yes. I would."

Edward put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "I want to believe you...Jonathan. And, half of me does. But, what do you expect? From the first time I ever talked to you, you were trying to find out what I was afraid of! You were trying to find all my fears, so that you could exploit them! You've been working on making my fears worse, and making me see fear everywhere. And, you know what? There's a reason people have trouble with not calling you 'Doctor' anymore. There's a reason people still think you're brilliant. It's because you are! You could have been the most amazing psychiatrist ever because you can make anyone believe anything! But, you make him believe it so well that no one can reverse the belief. Not even you. You wanted me to be scared of you. Well, guess what, Professor Crane? I'm terrified. Just, for once in your life, be happy with your accomplishment, and stop trying to further your research, okay?"

"You should know that I cannot feel guilt over anything, Edward."

"I know, Professor."

"I am incapable of it."

"How nice for you."

"Honestly, Edward. Not even if I want to. I am incapable of guilt. As I am incapable of fear. As I am incapable of happiness."

"Okay, Crane. But, I'm angry right now. So, you're not going to make me feel sorry for you. I don't care."

And, the Scarecrow, who, entirely truthfully, could not feel a tiny bit of guilt, simply continued to sew in silence.

At around seven-thirty, Jonathan finished his outfit. He changed into the patchwork pants and his dingy labcoat then put the mask over his head. He pocketed one hundred-sixteen vials inside his labcoat, where he'd sewn many extra pockets. Then he loaded the contents of the other ten vials into the syringes that were attached to the glove for his right hand. He pulled the glove on and tied a noose messily around his neck before stepping out of the lab.

Edward was seated on the couch, solving a crossword. He looked up when the Scarecrow appeared behind the couch. "Ready to go already, Crane? Fine, then. It will probably take us long enough to find a car to steal..."

"You aren't any better, I see."

"Don't worry about me. I won't spoil this little operation for you," Edward stated, toneless. He threw the crossword book at the coffee table and stood up, carrying his jacket. "Shall we go?"

The two left the hideout in search of a car. It just so happened that the first one they came across had a driver. Edward dealt with that small inconvenience quickly, and they climbed into the car.

The drive to the university was almost completely silent. In fact, it wasn't until the car had driven onto campus that Edward suddenly asked, "Where did you go to college?"

"What?"

"You didn't actually go to GSU, did you? You're not included as an alumni on their website."

"You believe that they would want to advertise that I went there?"

"Well, Poison Ivy was included. I assume you would be, too."

"Edward, I murdered my grandmother the day I graduated high school. You didn't expect that I stuck around Gotham after that, did you? I left the state for a while. When I returned, I took a job at this place."

"No one ever suspected that you killed all those people?"

"It was all in the past, Edward. College was not a bad experience for me. So, I returned to Gotham and decided to teach at a college. I was perfectly content with life, then. Until, for a second time, some people tried to make things difficult for me."

"...Where should I park?"

"Student Parking. Lot C. In the back."

"It's almost eight-thirty. I told the guys to meet me at the front gate at nine."

"Well, then, park, and you can head back to the front gate, while I look around."

Edward followed the instructions to park, and then he got out of the car and handed the keys to Jonathan. "Here. Harley's going to pick me up at nine-thirty. You'll have to drive back."

"You don't still think I believe you're taking care of Harley's hyenas, surely."

Edward didn't respond and instead began walking back toward the gate. Unfortunately, he didn't walk slowly enough, and he arrived at the gate with fifteen minutes left to wait. But, as he waited in the shadows of the gate, he looked up at the sky and noticed the Batsignal. Well, that was good, at least... Someone else was out there, distracting the Bat...

"Edward!"

The Prince of Puzzles followed the voice only to see Jonathan running toward him. "What are you doing, Crane? What happened to my plan?"

"Your riddle gave us up," Jonathan whispered as he slipped into the safety of the shadows.

"What do you mean? They're waiting for us?"

"Not them. Catwoman."

"...What?," Edward asked, all traces of contempt for Jonathan disappearing from his face.

"You framed her for kidnapping that doctor. She must have found out it was you somehow... Probably those two thugs you hired to help you told her. And, then she must have solved your riddle from television last night and showed up here to deal with you herself."

"Oh, lovely... That means that Batsignal is for here... Batman will be here any minute!" As soon as Edward said that, he realized something else: "And, we're just standing at the front gate! We might as well just hold up a flashing, neon sign: 'Oh, Batman! We're right here! Please come and arrest us!' "

"So, what do you suggest we do?"

"Move, of course! Hide and just let Batman get Catwoman! But... Oh, God, you know she's going to tell him why she's here. And, then, they'll both start looking for me. It won't take ten minutes for them to get that settled! My taxi doesn't get here until nine-thirty!"

"Taxi, hm? What happened to Harley and the hyena story?"

"Oh, to heck with Harley!," Edward shouted, waving his hands dramatically. "She wouldn't ask me to watch those stupid mongrels, and there's no way I'd ever say yes if she did!" His shouting died out and melted into whimpering, "I don't want to go back to Arkham yet..."

"Then shut up. Here comes a car."

Edward's eyes widened in panic. "We're still at the front gate!"

Scarecrow put his hand over Edward's mouth and swiftly pulled him into the bushes. He waited until the Batmobile's sleek form passed by to move his hand. "He's here."

Edward coughed. "When was the last time you washed that hand?"

"Not long ago."

"Well, it smells awful."

"It's just the toxin."

"Oh, really? And, to think, all these past few days I just thought it was you who smelled bad..." Edward pursed his lips, suddenly thoughtful. "Actually, the whole hideout was smelling like that... Do you think..." He frowned. "The fumes affected me...?"

"Most likely. All I remember of developing the toxin was a sort of paranoia. Constant paranoia. But, by the time it was fully developed, I was immune from so much exposure."

Edward remained silent for a few moments, letting those words sink in. If that was the case, then... "So... You weren't the one making me freak out?"

"Oh, I'll take the blame for that. I certainly made a large contribution. The fumes probably just made it a bit worse."

"Right... Well, from now on, you are going to have to work in someplace that is not connected to the areas where I sleep or deal with my own work."

"You can't remodel the warehouse again!"

"We're not going back to the warehouse, Jonathan. That taxi is coming at nine-thirty to take us to the airport. We're catching the first flight available, and, then, when we're safe out of Gotham, we're going to catch the next flight to California."

"We can't leave!"

"Yes, we can! I've done it before! It really works great when you're trying to come up with a huge operation. We can have as long as we want to plan... And, then we can read the headlines to find the perfect opportunity to come back."

"The entire reason for breaking out of Arkham was for me to experiment on patients."

"And, you can plan out your experiments while we're out of Gotham! Or, you know what? You can experiment on people far away from Gotham City. In a discrete way. That way you can build up an even better toxin! Batman will be shocked when we return!"

Jonathan tapped a syringe-topped finger on his leg, and he dropped the Scarecrow-voice. "Why does it seem like you are constantly coming up with a new plan, and we never actually follow through with any of them?"

"Look, Jonathan, I know it's not ideal to just up and leave Gotham like this. And, really, when I decided to leave earlier today, you weren't included in the plan. But, looking back on it, I'm not too certain that it wasn't the fear toxin doing the thinking for me then. It's hard for me to admit, Jonathan, but... I was scared earlier. At first I was scared of you. And, then when you started talking about the scythe, part of me wanted to believe you were kidding. The other part thought you really wanted to kill me. So, I planned this big idea where I'd just sort of disappear after this heist... That way, I wouldn't have to choose which part of me to believe. And, as long as I didn't choose... I couldn't be wrong. It's that fear you were talking about, Jonathan... Itchy-pho-..."

Jonathan shook his head, pronouncing each syllable seperately, "A-tych-i-pho-bi-a."

"Right. That one," Edward continued, as if the correct pronunciation wasn't very important. "Anyway, I just... I can't be wrong, Jonathan."

"And, why do you expect me to go with you, now?"

"Well, I mean, that plan was before Catwoman showed up, and Batman, and... I don't expect you to come, Jonathan. I understand that I'm the one they'll be searching for. I'm really the one in danger. But, if those thugs told Catwoman I framed her, then when she goes back to question them again, they could tell her where our hideout is. They were in there, after all. You could get caught. You're the one who orchestrated the whole breakout from Arkham, Jonathan. And, you let me follow: we escaped together. So, really, I think we're in this together. I don't think we should give up, now. We just need to get away for a little while and buy some time." Edward stopped for a moment to take a breath. Then he allowed a small smile to cross his face. "Besides, you have to come with me now, to prove me right."

"What?"

"I made a choice. About whether you're trying to kill me or not. I said that I didn't want to choose because I couldn't be wrong. But, I've chosen. And, how will I know if I've made the right choice if you don't come along?"

"I could just tell you. What was your choice?"

"Ah, but Jonathan, I can't just give you the answer to the riddle. That takes all the fun out of the game."

"Since when is this a game?"

"Oh, Doctor, don't you know anything? It's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt! So far, I'm in perfect health. How about you?"

The Scarecrow leaned back against the wall that made up part of the GSU entry gate. "What time does that taxi get here again?"