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40. The Manila Folder
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Disclaimer: I am so glad you are all liking the story so far! No worries—the shit will hit the fan soon for Pixie!! Ha ha ha ha he he ha ha ho he ha…
I glanced over at the clock on the wall. The hands on the clock pointed to 9:45. I sat at my desk, idly tapping my pen. I think I was developing that nervous habit as a waited anxiously for 10:00 to come—my first session of each day. I wondered what Dr. Crane would tell me today. I bit my lip and glanced down at the manila folder sitting on top of my other papers. It was hypnotizing—the forbidden folder titled "Confidential". Dr. Gerard had dropped it off this morning but had strictly instructed me to wait until 11:30 to open it with him. I assumed it was more information on Dr. Crane—new from the police archives or something like that. Dr. Crane had seemed a bit anxious the past few sessions I had seen him and I assumed this folder full of information was why.
The hands on the clock ticked slowly towards the 9:50 mark. Only five minutes had passed. Good lord! I continued tapping my pen against the desk. I closed my eyes for a moment and took in a deep resonating breath. I thought back to the last conversation I had had with Bruce a couple of days ago—the one about the Joker and Pixie robbing the museum of natural history. I couldn't wrap my brain around it—I had been thinking about it non-stop since Bruce informed me of the crime, but there was nothing I could remember about the Joker that I knew of that would even point to him robbing a museum—even if the Pixie bitch wanted to. Then again, the Joker was unpredictable—nothing about him could be taken for truth—nothing he did could be taken as something he may or may not do again. I had to keep that in mind when thinking about him, when analyzing him. It was just as likely for him to rob a museum as it is for him to kill any random person on the street. I guess it made perfect sense as to why he'd rob a bank—there was no sense to it! That was exactly the way the Joker thought.
I smiled softly to myself. I hadn't quite lost my knack for thinking like the Joker—not completely anyway. I glanced down again at the forbidden manila folder. Breathing in a quick breath, I reached out and took it in my hands. It was thick—full of papers and packets for me to read, no doubt. I turned it over to see if the seal was broken, by any chance. The seal was in tact and tape covered that seal. Damn. I turned it back over and placed it back exactly as it had been placed down on my desk nearly two hours ago. I looked back up at my good old friend on the wall. It was nearly 10.
"I guess I'll go see Dr. Crazy now," I said aloud to myself as I stood to my feet and left my office.
"Good morning Dr. DiMarco," Jonathan greeted me from inside the therapy room. I closed the door behind me.
"Sorry to keep you waiting—I thought I was going to be early this morning," I chuckled as I took my seat across from him.
"Nope—I was even earlier, as you can see," he grinned at me. My heart skipped a beat at his expression. I could never get over how attractive he was—though I was complete put off by his over-zealous and smug responses. I had wanted to put him through a wall two days ago when he told me the reason he developed hallucinogenic drugs was in order to keep the rest of society under his thumb. He was a brilliant man, there was no getting around that—but there was no reason for him to flaunt it—his brilliance had landed him in an asylum—real brilliant, Dr. Crane.
"Clearly. Let's get started then, shall we?" I offered calmly.
"Indeed," he responded, still grinning. I looked down at my Dr. Crane folder and then back up at him. Taken back by his continued grin, I shut the folder.
"Why are you grinning at me, Jonathan? Is there something you'd like me to know?" I asked, trying to keep my cool.
"Nothing in particular—just that you must really have your hands full, dealing with Gotham's criminals and all," he said, raising his eyebrows and smirking even wider.
"As far as you know, you're my only patient who has allegedly criminalized Gotham and its citizens," I replied.
"Dr. DiMarco, the patients around here talk—I know you're also treating Alberto and Edward—it's no secret, you know," he stated.
"Yes, well under HIPPA laws, it is—as is the information you tell me and what they tell me—all of it is confidential—being a psychiatrist, I would think you should be aware of said laws," I replied professionally.
"Yes, I am aware of those laws, but as I stated before to you, I was a research psychiatrist—not a practicing one like you, Dr. DiMarco," he pointed out.
"Well, to be fair, Jonathan, I'm not a psychiatrist, remember?" I let out a small smile, "can we continue?"
"Yes," he said, "let's go on—you've got quite a day ahead of you, I'm sure," He smirked again. Frustrated, I looked back down at my folder and then back up at him. His smirk was finally gone.
The session with Dr. Crane was cooperative, as usual, but surprisingly smug—more so than usual. He made several comments on Gotham's criminals and the number of them who are ending up here in the asylum. I kept assuring him that I only had three criminal patients and the other psychiatrists had only a couple others.
I left the room feeling anxious and antsy about the session and what Dr. Crane had been talking about—his smirks and his smug responses. I had almost completely forgotten about the manila folder sitting idly on my desk—until I walked into my office and saw it sitting there. I lump formed in my throat as I sat down in the chair. I glanced up at my friend on the wall and saw that the time was nearly 11:30. My heart beat quickly in anticipation for Dr. Gerard to make his appearance—for the manila folder to reveal its secrets to me.
The knock came at my door at exactly 11:30. I jumped up quickly, then sat back down.
"Come on in!" I called finally, throwing my pen down to the desk.
"Giada, good afternoon," Dr. Gerard greeted me. I smiled back at him.
"Good afternoon,"
"Did you have a good morning so far?" he asked, taking a seat across from me in one of the large green chairs in front of my desk.
"Yes, I did," I responded. I had wanted to discuss Dr. Crane with Dr. Gerard, but I was too anxious and eager to see what was in the manila folder.
"Good. Well, I don't want to ruin that good morning by giving you a bad afternoon, Giada, but I suppose this could go either way for you. I don't want to scare you or anything, but I am sure that this will be something you can handle—I just want to prepare you before you saw anything that made you uneasy in that manila folder—that's why I wanted you to wait for me until now before you looked at it," Dr. Gerard explained. I think he saw the expression on my face—the nervousness and the angst.
"Is it something bad?" I asked, taking in a deep breath.
"Well, it's something that we need to discuss before we proceed with anything. What is inside this folder is very serious and important—but I trust you as a therapist and clinician that you can handle this responsibly and with great detail, Giada," Dr. Gerard continued.
"Thank you," I said, feeling my heart rise into my throat. There was no way this could be about Dr. Crane. This had to be something much more important—much more recent and dangerous. Dr. Gerard nodded his head, with a slight smile on his lips. He then reached for the manila envelope. With one quick motion, he ripped off the top and slid out the packet of information. He took one look at it before handing it over to me.
"Take you time in making a decision. I understand if you feel you can't take the case," Dr. Gerard explained as he handed it over to me.
I took the packet in my hands and finally laid my eyes upon the forbidden fruit of the morning. What I saw instantly made my heart drop into my stomach. I felt all of the blood drain from my face as I gazed upon the mug shot—the Joker.
"I see you've perhaps heard of the mayhem this man has caused Gotham," Dr. Gerard said finally, noticing my ghost-like face and expression.
I couldn't even get my voice to make a sound—any sound at all. My voice had escaped me entirely. The Joker was here in Arkham—the Joker was here, in my place of work, as a resident—on MY caseload. I couldn't breathe.
"Giada, is everything alright?" Dr. Gerard asked me finally, seeing this packet of information seriously affected me.
I took in a deep breath and mustered all the strength I could find.
"Yes, I'm fine," I squeaked.
"I know this man has been on the news and has done horrific things to this city and its people—I understand if you feel you cannot take him onto your caseload, but I do urge you to please think it over before you make any rash decisions," Dr. Gerard explained.
"No, Dr. Gerard—I can't—I really cannot work with a man of this caliber, I really don't think I am ready or even able to help someone like him," I said quickly as I shoved the packet back into the manila folder. I had never been so eager to get rid of something that had once seemed so alluring. Dr. Gerard nodded his head silently for a moment.
"I understand," he spoke finally, "but you feel you've changed your mind, don't hesitate to let me know—I'll need to know by Friday,"
I nodded my head in agreement, "thank you," I murmured. Dr. Gerard pursed his lips together, stood from the chair and left my office.
I shrank back into my chair, wanting to force away the tears that were building up behind my eyes. I couldn't believe that the Joker had somehow managed to force his way back into my life—not even because he wanted to, but because my luck was just that bad. I glanced up at the evil clock. It was almost time for my lunch break, but I had lost any appetite I might have had prior to the revelation of the manila folder. I didn't have my next therapy session until after lunch, so I decided to look at the packet again. I removed the Joker's information from the packet and flipped through a few of the pages.
I skimmed the text, seeing nothing that didn't surprise me. I knew all of the endeavors that were listed and described. I flipped the page and skimmed the police report. I wanted to know when he was admitted and why he was admitted as opposed to being sent to the GPD or county.
What I read nearly stopped my heart. I almost forgot to breathe.
Sent to Arkham Asylum for further evaluation. Most likely is imitating insanity in order to escape imprisonment.
I knew very well that the Joker was not "insane" as it were, but he certainly had a different way of seeing things and of dealing with things. It made sense to me that he would be admitted here as a means of escaping county. I guess I hadn't given him as much credit as he deserved. I should have known that he would try something like this eventually; I guess I just always assumed I'd be with him rather than the one treating him.
I felt my blood fuming beneath my face. Quite the opposite reaction from the one I had when I found out he was here in Arkham. I was so angry with him. I couldn't even comprehend his motives. I wondered if Pixie had been caught too—if she was in prison or if she was also here in Arkham. I'd have rather been on her case—I would dope her up on tranquilizers to shut her up so I wouldn't have to hear her squeaky and horrible voice. How he put up with her ugly voice, I'll never know!
The rest of the day flew by. I met with Edward Nygma at 1:30. Like Dr. Crane, Edward smirked often joked around about Gotham's criminals. I understood, as the alleged "Riddler" spoke to me, why Dr. Crane had been the same way—they all knew the Joker had been admitted and was assigned to my caseload.
I left the "Riddler" fuming. How could my patients have known about the Joker before I did?! Leaving my anger behind, I put on my game face and saw the rest of my patients.
I returned home that evening to Bruce Wayne standing inside my apartment.
"Well this is a surprise," I said as I shut the door behind me and set my things down on the round wooden table. Bruce remained silent as I removed the manila folder from my bag and handed it to him.
"Look at this, Bruce," I spoke as he took it from my hand and removed the documents from inside. He glanced over the papers and nodded his head.
"Giada, I have no doubt in my mind that the night I saw the Joker at the museum was the night he was arrested. I don't know how he managed to get out of going to jail this time, but it looks like he'd had it planned all along," Bruce explained.
"Yeah, but I can't figure out where Pixie is for the life of me! I checked the databases at work and she's not listed anywhere in Arkham—did she accept imprisonment?" I asked.
"From the looks of things, no. She's still out there. I am not entirely sure how she managed to get away while the Joker was caught,"
"Maybe that was her plan—to get the Joker caught while she got away—there is no good reason for him to rob from a museum—I bet Pixie set him up!" I exclaimed, suddenly enraged.
"Well we can't prove anything, Giada. All I can assume is that the Joker was assigned to your caseload. Am I right?" Bruce asked.
"Yes, but I told Dr. Gerard to switch him. Bruce, there's no way I can handle that," I explained.
"Good—I was going to tell you to do that," he chuckled. We both smiled briefly, then Bruce turned to the window.
"Where are you going?" I asked, hoping he would stay for dinner.
"Batman's got some investigating to do," he said with a smile, then his face turned serious. I nodded my head. I could certain understand that. The manila folder of doom was left for me to antagonize over for the rest of my evening—alone.