The night's air was cool and crisp, giving Flash a rather relaxing feeling. It was invigorating, something that had been hard to come by the last few days. Flash always felt this way after catching a bad guy; there was just something satisfying with restoring the balance to the world, or so he saw it. Bad guys do bad things, kick butt for awhile, then get their comeuppance as they cry to themselves in the back of a police car.

Oh yeah, he had seen the misery of Monocle's face before they had parted ways.

As the speedster ran down the road he was on, the countryside passing around him as a blur, Hawkgirl was high in the sky, keeping up with him primarily because he wasn't trying to break the sound barrier. They had agreed to stay with each other and Flash was going to do his best not to outrun his winged friend.

Up ahead was an approaching small city. Had it been any smaller and Flash would've thought the place was a ghost town at this hour. A distinct lack of traffic could convince a guy of that. Yet, the closer he came to it, the more he could pick up the sounds of some sort of nightlife going on.

Passing into the city limits, he was soon speeding between buildings and darting through intersections. While there weren't a lot of people around and even less cars, there was plenty of light so that he could see and there were even stores that were still open.

One of them was an electronics store; the only reason Flash knew this was because of the big show window revealing rows upon rows of televisions conveniently on. The red-clad man only had an instant to glance at them before he was nearly a block away.

It took an additional two blocks for Flash to realize exactly what he saw on those televisions and another one to skid to a stop. Racing back, he stopped right in front of the store and stared at the multitude of screens.

"Oh crap in a hand basket."

Hitting his comm link, he said, "Uhh, Wings? I think we have a situation."

"What kind of situation?" was her immediate response.

"It's...uhh, something you just have to see for yourself. I'm in front of—" at this the speedster looked up to see the name of the store, finding it in big, bold, red letters, "—Jeff's Electronics."

There was no response to that. Instead Flash waited in silence that seemed to stretch for a really long time. It couldn't have been more than maybe half a minute, but when you were impatient and the world typically crawled at a snail's pace around you, just about any waiting time could seem like a hundred years.

Hawkgirl gently landed next to him then, looking at the red-clad hero as she asked, "What's up?"

In response, the speedster raised a hand up and pointed at the televisions. "That."

Each and every TV screen was of the same news channel. And as it so happened, there was a reporter holding a microphone in his hand, a big number 7 indicating it was Channel 7 news. The reporter was standing on a road, a car wreck visible behind him, with police cars and ambulances parked all over, flashing red and blue flights filling the night's sky.

To top it all, a banner at the bottom of the screen said the reporter was at Midway.

Hawkgirl's eyes sharpened on the image. "That's not too far away from where we stopped the Monocle," she spoke.

That wasn't something Flash wanted to hear. He had a number of thoughts floating in his head and none of them he liked. So naturally that was when the right side of the television screens became a blue banner, a picture of Johnathan Cheval appearing at the top, with the word DEAD beneath it.

"I think we need to go back," Flash said then. "We need to make sure we know what happened."

"It's a car accident, Flash," Hawkgirl retorted. "Those happen all the time."

"Yeah, but how many of them happen while we're trying to hunt down a deranged psychopath?"

The Thanagarian hesitated. "You have a point," she admitted before she let out an aggrieved sigh. "Fine, we can check—"

That was all the red-clad man needed to hear. Before his comrade could so much as react, he snatched her up off the ground, one arm wrapped around her back and the other beneath her knees. An instant later he was running at top speed back to Midway.

"The hell are you doing?!" Hawkgirl demanded, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

"This was just faster," he briefly explained. The sooner they got there, the better, right? Going at Hawkgirl's pace would have only made him more anxious than he already was.

And then they were at the scene. In one graceful move the speedster had set Hawkgirl back on her feet and separated from her, coming to a stop next to a couple officers. "Hello, officers," he greeted cheerfully, earning him several startled looks. "I just happened to be in the neighborhood when I heard something was—uuuuughh!"

Several feet away from the red-clad man was a busted up police car and lying right next to it was a bloody mess that Flash could only assume was the Monocle—or at least what was left of him. There was a lot of blood on the car, ground, and the corpse, yet the most eye-catching of it all was the Monocle's face. It was frozen in an expression of pain and terror in contrast to the bloody smile that had been cut into his face.

Unconsciously, Flash raised a hand up to his comm link and activated it. "Uhh, Bats? We have a problem in Midway."

Much like his previous contact with Hawkgirl, there was a moment's silence before the vigilante responded. "What's the problem?"

"The Monocle is dead and someone decided to get very knife-happy with him. I think you need to get over here as fast as you can."

There was an even longer silence before Batman replied, "Roger that. Set a perimeter and make sure no one contaminates the scene, over."

That was when someone screamed out in rage, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Normally that would've made Flash at least give the screamer his attention, but in this instance he couldn't tear his gaze away. It wasn't until a hand roughly grabbed him that he was forced to look at a bald man in a messy dress shirt and tie, his face red like a tomato. "Get the hell off of my crime scene, ya bum!"

Before Flash could respond, Hawkgirl was at his side. "Get your hand off of my friend, Stone," she glowered at him. At the very least this Stone guy removed his hand, but he didn't back down.

"Oh great, you're here too. Why are you sticking your stinkin' bird nose into my investigation?" he griped at her

"Not that I have to tell you, but we arrested that man no more than half an hour ago," the winged woman explained. "Now he's dead and we want to know why."

"So does everyone here, missy. Now how about you let the professionals take care of this?"

"Don't call me 'missy,'" Hawkgirl growled dangerously. "It's Hawkgirl."

"And I'm Detective Stone. Detective. If you're gonna address me, you better make sure it's with that," Stone retorted.

Well, it seemed these two were more than acquainted with each other and not in a good way either. It seemed it was up to Flash to make these two dogs back off of each other. "Okay, have your way, Det. Stone," he spoke, earning himself a glare from Hawkgirl and a gloating look from Stone. "But we are the Justice League and, like my friend here said, we arrested this guy not too long ago. Since we're all professionals here, we just want to make sure we know how and why he died. It's a sort of post-arrest thing we do."

Stone snorted. "Look, it ain't all that hard to figure out. There was a wreck between the squad car," he pointed at said car before he turned his finger to a nearby truck, "and that truck. A couple guys got out, dragged the victim out, and cut him up good. Bing, bam, boom, that's all there is to it."

Out of the corner of his eye, Flash saw Hawkgirl facepalm herself. "Sounds like a reasonable theory," he spoke hesitantly.

"It ain't a theory, that's what happened. Now get out of here."

"We just want to make sure." The young man sighed. "Look, we think someone called the Joker may be involved."

That was Flash's operating theory at the very least. How many people would purposefully carve a smile into another person, after all? That had been the first thought he had the moment he saw the Monocle's body and the chief reason he had contacted Bats.

Stone didn't seem to like that idea. "The Joker? Some freaking clown? You have to be kidding me."

"No jokes this time, I'm afraid."

The detective grunted. "I can't believe this. No way did some mental patient do this. Besides, that guy sticks to Gotham. He ain't got no reason to be out in Midway."

"Well, we just want to be sure. That's why we called in a specialist to take a quick look. He should be here any minute."

Stone's eyes narrowed. "What specialist?"


Batman surveyed the scene, his eyes narrowed behind his mask. Slowly he moved his head from right to left then back, making sure the cameras in his lens captured as much of the crime scene as he could. Once he was sure he had everything he could possibly get recorded, he began to circle the area, making sure to keep his head tilted to his right. This way he could get different angles in case his initial sweep missed anything.

Flash had done a decent job clearing the scene, following his orders to the letter. Police and forensic teams were standing by their vehicles, impatient looks on their faces. They probably felt pushed aside and they were right. However, they were more hindrance in this case and it was best to not let amateurs ruin what was left of the crime scene.

Yet, while most of the men and women were able to keep their mouths shut, or at least grumbled lowly to themselves and their co-workers, there was a bald detective that had no such qualm voicing his displeasure. "This is your specialist," the man demanded at Flash, his face flushing red with anger. "Some dumbass in a Halloween costume?"

Flash actually kept his cool in the face of such outrage. "That's right. He's one of the best investigators I've ever met. I suggest you keep calm and let the man do his work too."

"That's our work! Ours! Now get that idiot out of there and let us do our fucking jobs!"

Due to his circling of the scene, Batman had approached the two men and felt it was in the best interest of everyone here that he put an end to this tirade. Stopping, he turned to face the officer and just stared, his face stoic. It took a moment, but eventually the bald man noticed Flash wasn't paying him attention—not to mention his follow officers were pointing him towards the vigilante—and he turned to look towards him.

"Oh, were you listening? Good, that'll save me my breath," the man groused as he walked towards the Dark Knight.

In response, Batman just hardened his stare, something that caused the police officer to slow down and eventually come to a stop. He was only a few feet away from the dark-clad man, so this gave him a good look at the officer's badge, one that stated DET. STONE.

"Detective Stone, is it?" he asked then, his voice calm.

That caused Stone to perk up. "So you know of me," he preened.

"Clinton Stone of the Midway PD, promoted to the rank of detective, involved with a few high-profile cases in the last three years, and father of two."

Stone smirked. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Tell me again how you let someone like Daniel Rubens off and pinned his murder of Sandra Evans on an innocent man."

That caused the detective to freeze. One of those high profile cases Batman had mentioned had involved the murder of a single mother, Evans. She had been found in a park, violated and strangled. A forensics team had determined a semen sample found at the scene belonged to Rubens; yet, Stone allowed the man to walk, believing the man's alibi and for whatever reason selected a random homeless man for the crime. Midway PD was still dealing with the fallout of that botched investigation.

Fortunately, Rubens had made the mistake of heading to Gotham following his departure of Midway. Intending on doing the same to another woman, he soon found himself in the custody of the GCPD with a mouthful of broken teeth and a leg that he would never be able to walk the same on again.

When Stone wasn't forthcoming with his answer, Batman closed the distance between them, shoving his face right in front of the detective's. Stone took a step back, a nervous expression on his face. "I'm waiting, Detective," he growled.

Again, Stone seemed to have swallowed his tongue. "If you have nothing to say, get back behind the barricade with the others. You're just wasting my time." With that, Batman spun around, his cape billowing out before it settled around his shoulders, enveloping his body.

"You heard the man," he heard Flash speak up then, "go chill with your buddies and let the professionals handle it from here."

Ignoring the other Midway PD members, Batman returned his attention to the crime scene, specifically the vehicles. He was quick to note the damage to the front of the truck and the side of the police cruiser, telling him the truck had broadsided the smaller car, most likely on purpose as well.

Moving to the police car, he saw an officer still seated in the driver's seat. It was obvious he was dead, killed in the crash. Finally, Batman brought himself to the body of what used to be Cheval. Ignoring the body, he examined the back passenger door, observing the cracked window along with some blood.

Cheval must have hit his head against the window during the crash, which meant he most likely wasn't in any shape to try and escape. Since the door was still open, someone—most likely the perpetrator—had opened it and pulled Cheval out. That wasn't even taking into account that the back doors of police cars could only be opened from the outside.

Looking down to the body, the Dark Knight noticed some blood was smeared on the side of the car, not to mention the ground looked as if it had been swiped. Cheval had tried to escape, but his injuries had prevented him from doing so.

At last, he began examining Cheval's body. Kneeling down, the first thing he looked at was the face. Immediately he stared at the mouth, cut marks extending out from either side of it to make a wider, bloody smile. A knife had been used and a serrated one at that. The tissue at the edges of the cuts were jagged rather than clean. And considering the amount of blood, the cuts had to have been made premortem.

Batman clinched his hands into fists. Cheval had been alive when he had been mutilated.

Moving down the body, he noticed the throat had been slashed as well, the edges jagged as well. This was most likely what killed Cheval in the end, once his torture was over. Continuing, he then observed blood stains on the shirt, but they appeared to be not only on the outside, but the inside as well. Further investigation would be needed. Continuing to look down Cheval, he then saw the legs, specifically the damage to the body's knees. He knew a gunshot wound on sight and there were was one in each knee. No wonder Cheval hadn't been able to flee.

There was gruesomeness to this scene; premeditated, yes, but it also had a sense of wild abandon. Someone had lost their temper.

Having catalogued all of the visible injuries, it was time to go searching for more. Reaching for Cheval's shirt, he began unbuttoning it, pulling it open once he able to.

Batman's jaw clenched. Words had been carved into Cheval's chest and abdomen, dried blood obscuring part of the message due to runoff. However, it didn't take too much imagination to figure out what was being said.

"No more interlopers," he read out loud, his voice low and soft. "Only two can dance and this is my dance."

This was a message, though it was clearly not for him. While Batman knew of Flash and Hawkgirl's suspicion that this was the Joker's handiwork, there wasn't much around that indicated the Joker was involved. Perhaps if he took ballistics on Cheval's knees and tried to narrow down what gun had destroyed the joints, he could maybe establish a more concrete link. The problem was that this entire scene lacked any of the Joker's calling cards: instead of Joker Venom, a smile had been ruthlessly cut into Cheval's face, something a copycat could have done too. There was also a distinct lack of weaponized gag toys as well. And while the Joker was adept with a knife, he didn't use it unless he had no other choice, not as a primary weapon.

And why would he go after Cheval at all? Cheval was too small time for such an effort. The Joker preferred a large audience, not some deserted road outside of a mid-sized city. The inconsistencies were too large to ignore.

Still, that message had been telling. The Joker did have a possessive streak in him. The vigilante knew the madman wanted his full attention. Was it possible that the confrontation at Cheval's house would have made the clown believe his attention was moving to someone else? If that was the case, then getting rid of Cheval would have ensured the Dark Knight and the Justice League were focused entirely on him. And if that message got out, it was telling anyone else that if they tried anything like Cheval, this would be their fate.

Because he had been staring at the words carved into Cheval's torso, Batman soon noticed a dark spot on the shirt. It wasn't blood and there seemed to be a definitive shape to it. Touching the spot, he quickly felt that it was indeed an object, one that was thin and bendable.

Flipping the shirt back on top of Cheval, the vigilante noticed the shirt had a pocket just above the chest. Slipping his hand into it, he pulled out what appeared to be a playing card, one that had been spared being stained by blood. Flipping it over in his hand, the face of the joker card met him, causing his eyes to harden.

He had been looking for a calling card, though he detested the fact that he found a literal one.

Instinctively, he pulled out a small plastic bag from his belt and slipped the card into it, sealing it, and placing the bag into the same pouch. Though he doubted it, there might be a lead on the playing card that could direct him to the Joker—all avenues had to be followed until proven otherwise.

Speaking of which, there was one last thing to check. Standing up, Batman walked over to the truck, heading right for the driver's door. Reaching it, he pulled the door open and once more began slowly panning his head from side to side, up and down. The cab was relatively clean, the remains of fast food wrappers and cups being tossed on the floor. So far though, there didn't seem to be much worth investigating.

Regardless, the vigilante made sure he was thorough. Checking the center console and glove box didn't provide much aside from an owner's manual and some loose change. It was very possible the vehicle was stolen, so he made a note to get the license plate number to run a check.

However, when Batman checked underneath the seats, he spotted something of worth. Reaching, he grabbed what felt like a pamphlet and pulled it out, discovering it to be a folded map. Unfolding it, he was quick to note there were scribbles and various markings on it.

Moving out of the cab, the dark-clad man moved to the hood of the truck and placed the map on top of it, spreading it out to its full size. In the left hand corner were the words "Midway, business and residential areas." So, this was a map of Midway. Scanning it, there were a few different locations that had been circled in red marker. Others had X's and some words written, mostly directions.

"Hawkgirl," he called out. He didn't bother to look away from the map, fully focused on it. That didn't mean he wasn't aware of the Thanagarian's approach, the winged woman coming to stand next to him.

"Can you tell me what are at these locations?" Batman asked her, pointing at the circled areas.

The redhead stared at them for a moment before she began pointing at each circle and naming them. "That's a pharmaceutical company, a shoe factory, a ghetto, shopping mall, amusement park—"

"Amusement park?" Batman interrupted.

"Yeah, or at least it used to be. Hasn't been in use for the last couple of years."

Backing up a couple steps, the vigilante looked at the license plate before he activated his comm link. "J'onn, this is Batman. I need you to run a trace on a license plate, X72 BD3."

The Martian was quick to respond. "Give me one moment, Batman." That requested moment grew into several before, "The plate numbers you gave me are registered to an Eric Border. No known address, but there appears to be an entry for his last employer."

"Is it an amusement park?" Batman interjected quickly.

"It is," J'onn replied, not the least bit taken back by the dark-clad man's tone. "Happy Times Amusement Park and Rides."

"That'll be all." Batman turned his attention to Hawkgirl, who was being joined by Flash and Diana. "We need to go to the Happy Times Amusement Park. That's where this truck is registered from and is likely where the Joker got it."

"So that's where we're going next," Flash spoke up, his entire body perking up.

The Dark Knight nodded. "It is. Time is of the essence, so one of you will have to fly me in."

"What about your Batwing?" Hawkgirl questioned, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, bending one at the knee. "I highly doubt you want to leave it in the hands of the MPD."

"I'll take care of that when we're airborne. For now, we need to move out."


J'onn stared at the giant Batcomputer, its light casting an eerie glow over him. There were multiple windows open, most, if not all, having being accessed from the JLHQ headquarters black box. There was a lot of data that needed to be reviewed and with the others indisposed of, J'onn felt it was up to him to begin this task.

He was fatigued, a result of his recovery from being shattered into an infinite number of pieces. His body hadn't recovered from that trauma fully, though it was making progress. It was because of this that he hadn't reformed his full Martian attire, opting only for his blue briefs. The rest would follow suit when he had enough strength to do so.

However, he was not alone in his endeavor. Off to his left and behind him was Batman's apprentice, who was carefully studying him. J'onn only sensed her presence and could only really guess her motives at this point.

It was strange really. In all of his travels, never had he met a mind quite like this young girl's. Most people thought in words and pictures, belying a distinct idea that was fairly easy to read. For this Batgirl though, her thoughts were of actions; it was simultaneously fascinating and alarming. He could not read her mind and immediately discover what she was thinking; this required further interpretation and the Martian was humble enough to admit that he wasn't able to gather a complete picture.

It didn't take much for him to come to the conclusion that something had been done to this girl.

J'onn knew Batman was aware of her condition—it was probably a big reason why he provided her a home. The man was too sharp not to have noticed the differences in her comprehension and learning faculties. In fact, if J'onn was not mistaken, Batgirl's language center was underdeveloped. She must have been deprived of speech through some sort of abuse.

The green-skinned man mentally shook himself. She was a puzzle for another time; right now his attention should be with understanding the reason for the Joker's attack on the Justice League headquarters.

In cases like this, it was best to review what was known. Bringing up the window for the teleporter, J'onn stared at the entry logs, noting the time Batman believed the Joker had trespassed into the building using Superman's authorization code. There were two, one right after the other, indicating when the Joker had left. There were also a couple other entries below those, ones J'onn identified as Batman and Wonder Woman's arrival at the HQ.

The Martian frowned then. There was one last entry into the logs, one belonging to Superman. Yet, if the Joker had left before Batman and Wonder Woman's arrival, why was there one more entry? Checking the time stamp, J'onn was quick to note that this final entry was made mere seconds before the destruction of the HQ.

Something was wrong.

J'onn immediately began typing on the keyboard, opening up yet another window. Entering a search protocol, he initiated it and watched as the supercomputer did its work. It took several minutes, but eventually a list of results appeared.

What the Martian wanted to know was what the Joker did while in the Justice League headquarters. So that prompted a search for where Superman's activation code was used during the time the Joker entered the building and when it was destroyed was his starting point. The first thing to jump out at him was the access of the teleporter's reactor core being tampered with. Following that was the access of various rooms throughout headquarters.

For once, J'onn found himself frowning. If this list was correct, then the Joker was ignorant of the JLHQ layout. Many of the rooms he went to held no significance that he could use. It was almost at random the places he searched.

Yet, there had to be a reason. Though he was believed to be insane, this man had shown an intellect that was more coherent than a first impression would indicate. There was always a motive, even if it wasn't obvious at first glance. So why would the Joker inspect storage rooms, the training room, the personal quarters of Hawkgirl, a room the Flash labeled as a janitor's closet—

"—where he proceeded to a janitor's closet and made a batch of Joker Venom out of household cleaning products."

The Martian widened his eyes. Was it possible the Joker had raided their supply of household cleaners so he could develop more Joker Venom? Or was he intending on making a new strain? The Joker's creativity was limitless at this point.

He had to inform Batman and the others as soon as possible. There was no telling what dangers awaited them.