To Play the Fool

Chapter Twenty-Five

I came home Monday night from a long day at school to Jackie sitting at the table staring dreamily at a teacup and saucer with orange-red poppies painted around the edges.

"Have you found nirvana in a piece of china?" I asked her as I shook out the rain from my coat before hanging it on the coat rack.

"It got chipped at work and my boss said I could have it. I can't decide if I should make apple cider or tea first."

"Don't you have to go out fighting crime with Batman?"

She groaned and hid her head in her arms. "I spent the entire weekend trying to keep Dad from shooting Batman. And for some reason, Batman still wanted to discuss the case with Dad. It was not productive at all, and I'm starting to wonder if he has a death wish."

"As much as I love and trust in Dad's shooting abilities, I think Batman's not the one that needs protecting in this scenario. So you're no closer to finding the Mad Hatter?"

"Nope." She stood up and put on her jacket that was hanging on the back of her chair. "I brought some chicken and rice home from work that you can have for dinner. I have no idea how to pronounce what it's called, but the chefs assure me that it's delicious."

I felt a twinge of disappointment that she was leaving so soon. "Going to the hospital again?"

"Just to check on Audrey. Then Batman wants me to patrol the city. Can't just drop everything for one minor serial killer." Everything about her clipped tone suggested that she wanted to do just that, but Batman was giving her assignments to keep her out of his way. Not that he was her boss or anything, but she found it best to just do as he said.

"Call me if you need help."

"Will do." She gave me a hug goodbye, and left out the front door.

When she was gone, I set some textbooks on the table, reheated the dinner Jackie provided for me, and settled in for a wonderful night of Chemistry homework. Specifically, we had a small section on Michael Faraday to study that I was particularly interested in.

My bliss was interrupted twice by my cell phone. Because I promised Jackie I would answer it if she needed me, I checked the caller ID. James Carroll. As miserable as our last date was, I hadn't officially told him we were finished yet, so I answered my phone. "Hello James."

"Jenny, how are you? How's school?" he asked smoothly as if there was nothing wrong.

"James, this just isn't going to work out."

"What are you talking about?" Definitely in denial.

"Us. It's not going to happen. I'm sorry."

"We just have to try! Why don't I take you to this nice place I know of – "

"No. I don't want to go out with you anymore. Goodbye James." I hung up without waiting for his answer.

Twenty minutes later, I got another call. This time, the number was blocked. All my instincts told me it was Mr. Carroll calling again in a desperate bid for my love, but there was also the chance that it was Jackie, so I had to answer it.

"Is this Jackie?" I said.

"No, it's James." There was a tremor in his voice like he had been crying. "Or Jim. All my friends call me Jim. I'm so sorry we got off on the wrong foot."

"Don't do this to me," I moaned.

"I was thinking that we could be friends." Ugh. This man would not let me be light footed with him, so I would just have to be heavy handed.

"Not even on Facebook. Don't call me again." Then I cut him off again.

At ten-thirty, I wrapped up my last page of notes and headed for bed. While going through my sock drawer for some warm socks for the night, I noticed that I had to go digging deeper than usual for my heavy hiking socks. (Not that I go hiking; I just get cold toes.) Not only that, but I got the sense that my socks stock was smaller than it should have been. I did a quick mental inventory of the socks in the hamper and vs. what socks were in the drawer. I concluded that I was missing one pair of white nylon stockings.

Odd. Jackie must have borrowed them. It didn't bother me that she stole my clothes, but she doesn't have a reason to wear them. Especially not white. I'd have to ask her when she came home.

The next night, I had three ignored calls from James Carroll by the time I was on my way home. I got off the bus with my nose in a textbook, looking like an absent-minded student by all appearances. In reality, I can't read while walking, but it keeps people from noticing that I'm watching them. I was sort of following a Hispanic single mother burnt out by two jobs on our way back to the same apartment complex. She must have moved in recently while I was at work.

I passed a nondescript green sedan parked in the place I normally would have put my car if I still had mine. Dad had my rental because he needed it more than I did. The reason I normally parked here in the street is because there is a direct line of sight between my window and the car, perfect for keeping an eye on it. Or to keep an eye on my window.

Using my book as a cover, I casually looked back at the car out of the corner of my eye. My peripheral vision managed to catch the shadow of someone in the driver's seat, but not much else due to the tinted windows.

I raced into my apartment hoping to find Jackie, but she was still at work. With a job that let her sleep late, she often worked shifts that went late into the night. Not only would I be eating dinner alone, but I didn't have someone to help me check out the car.

After making sure my blinds were closed and the curtains were drawn, I found a small pair of binoculars and peeked out of the edge of the window without disturbing the blinds too much. I was still at a disappointing angle to see much. The license plates were out of view, the windows were too tinted to see much in the dark, and the shadow I saw earlier was gone. Maybe I was just imagining someone out there. In either case, Jackie's days of going out the window were over, and Batman would be forbidden to step foot anywhere near my apartment.

I filled a saucepan with water and set it on the stove to boil so I could make some pasta before I took my stuff to my room. I kicked off my pumps and put them in their designated place on the shoe rack. That was when I noticed that there was a pair of empty shoe hooks. My black Mary-Janes were gone.

I went through the back of my closet, hoping that I had forgotten to put them back where they belonged, but it was as clean as I had left it when I went to work this morning. Then I checked the rest of my room, which turned up nothing. Out of desperation, I went to Jackie's room and went through her things. She was building up a collection of white blouses and black skirts, but my Mary-Janes weren't there.

Have you been borrowing some of my clothes? I texted Jackie. Then I heard my saucepan whistling as the water boiled, and I tried to turn my attention back to my dinner.

But as I stirred in the bowtie pasta and heated up some spaghetti sauce, my mind kept going back to my shoes. Where in the world could they have gone? As much as I wanted Jackie to have taken my things, I ultimately knew that it wasn't like her. Losing things wasn't like me either. I didn't want to think about the other possibility. Unfortunately, being me, my brain doesn't not think.

Someone's been in my apartment.

"Goodnight Jenny," said Mrs. Miller as she left the office.

I was still catching up on some filing, having been distracted all day. "Goodnight. Drive safely," I said with a small wave. She gave me a smile and left via the elevator. The last couple people in the office were me, Mr. Wayne, and a couple interns who were stuck working on an IT problem on the other end of the floor.

Mr. Wayne exited his office with a briefcase in hand and a date on his phone. From the tone of the conversation, it was falling through. He hung up as soon as he reached my desk. "Well that's one reservation that's gone to waste. Hey, Jenny, are you interested in dinner tonight?"

I straightened up and tried to form a response. "Um, I can't. I've got softball practice tonight."

Something in my hesitant answer made his ears prick. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You just seem … out of it today. Maybe it's just me."

I took a deep breath before I answered. "No, it's not. You remember the guy who gave me the flowers? He's not taking no for an answer and he won't stop calling me."

"You can block his number, can't you?"

"Well, yes. I just hope that's enough for him to get the message. I'll be fine."

He didn't look like he believed me, but he didn't press the issue. "Okay. Have a good time at softball."

"Thanks. Goodnight Mr. Wayne."

As soon as I finished with the filing, I collected my things and left the building for the train station. Once at the train station, I found the restroom and cleared a place at a sink with a mirror. Then I filled my hands with cold water and splashed it on my face.

While water dripped off my face, I stared at the mirror and asked myself, Why couldn't you have just accepted dinner? Why did you have to lie? The simple answer is that I didn't want to change my plans. The complicated answer is that I'm an idiot.

I dried my face with a towel, opened up my bag of tricks, and pulled out some makeup wipes, a tube of dark foundation, bobby pins, and a hair elastic. I cleaned off the professional makeup I had worn all day with the wipes and took off my coat to keep it clean. Then I pulled my hair back into a french braid before I started applying the foundation.

This step took quite a bit of time as I had to make it look natural and that wasn't an easy thing to do. When I was done with my face, I covered my hands with the foundation. When I was done, I looked somewhat Hispanic. To add to the effect, I darkened my eyebrows and eyelashes since my blonde lashes didn't look the part. I imagine the women passing in and out of the bathroom at this time gave me some odd looks, but none of them questioned me. I respected their desire to stay out of my business.

I folded the tail of my braid onto my head and pinned it there with the bobby pins. Then I took out a curly black wig out of my bag and placed it carefully over my hair. With some strategically placed pins and some combing, the wig looked like my real hair. For the final touch, I wrapped my coat around my waist to give me some weight. Then I took out a completely different, well worn and dirty coat from my bag and put that on along with some sensible but out of fashion flats.

With some final minor alterations, I looked like a Hispanic single mother burned out by two jobs. Then I collected my things, hunched over to lose three inches of my height, and left the restroom to go buy a ticket for the train.

By the time I made it home, I had been pushed around enough to want to commit a homicide and my back was hurting with trying to be smaller. I got off the bus a stop before my usual one and shuffled slowly home as if my feet were killing me. I wanted nothing more than to just run home, but I still had a part to play. Half of a good disguise is the acting, not just the costume. So I kept my pace deliberately slow.

Before long, my patience was rewarded. The same green sedan was parked in the same place as it was yesterday. Even more worrying was the fact that it had moved only slightly. The driver had left and come back to the exact same spot. There really was no reason to be parked there, especially when there were a hundred other better parking spots.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, turned on the camera function, and hid it in my arm. As I passed the sedan, I took several pictures of the license plates, the windows, and the driver. Then I put my phone away so I could look at it later.

I got the mail from my box, then climbed the stairs to the third floor slowly, with an aching back. When I made it into my apartment, I threw my keys onto the table, my mail into the trash, and my bags somewhere on the couch,all so I could get at my phone. I wiped some of the foundation off my hand onto my filthy coat and went through the pictures I took.

So the car is a Chevrolet with a couple dings in the bumper. Unfortunately, the front license plate had come off and the back license plate was covered in mud. I could make out an X, but other than that, the letters were too obscured to make anything out. As for the mud, it looked like it came from the south side of town, with some wood chips mixed in like it had come from a playground. The mud on the license plate was deliberate.

As for the picture of the driver, he was hidden too. There wasn't a whole lot I could see through the window. As for what I could see, the driver sort of had James' blond hair. Maybe. Definitely had his build, but I couldn't be sure of his height. I could make out a beard, but that could have been fake for all I knew. Still, I finally had a lead. For the first time this week, I felt my sense of dread lifting.

I took my stuff back to my room so I could put it away and get changed. I unpinned my wig, put it back in its plastic bag, and put it with the others in a drawer. Then I hung my coat on a hanger and put it in a dry-cleaner's bag so it wouldn't get everything else dirty, so I could hang it up in the back of my closet. However, when I pushed the clothes aside to get some room, I nearly dropped everything in shock.

My blue and white cocktail dress – my favorite dress – was gone. Vanished. Missing. Stolen. This had gone beyond Jackie borrowing my clothes. Someone had broken into my apartment while I was at work because my dress was definitely there this morning, and taken it.

I dialed Jackie as I cleaned off the rest of my disguise. Thankfully, she answered. "Hello?"

"Jackie, are you close to coming home?"

"I have another hour left on my shift. What's up?"

"Someone broke into our apartment. The only thing I can see that they've taken is one of my dresses. You haven't been borrowing any of my shoes or socks, have you?"

"No. Your stuff doesn't fit me. I can spontaneously get sick."

"No. It's not a big deal. Finish your shift. Just … come home before you go out crime fighting please. I think we need to put in some new security measures."

"Sounds good. I'll see you soon."

I let Jackie get back to work, finished putting my disguise away, and went to the kitchen to make dinner. Since I was skipping class, I had plenty of time to make something good, but I just couldn't make up my mind or figure out if I actually wanted to make food. I couldn't even figure out what food I actually had. My mind just kept going back to the fact that the sanctity of my apartment had been violated. I checked my doorknob several times to see how the intruder got in. So far as I could tell, there weren't any scratches on the lock from any lock-picks. My spare key was still buried in a fake sprinkler head in the lawn out of sight of the green sedan. By all appearances, it hadn't been touched in weeks. They had to be really good with a lock-pick in order to get in.

With nothing else to do, I got a ticonderoga pencil from the junk drawer and a cheese knife from the knife block, and started chopping up the pencil lengthwise. I extracted the graphite core and threw away the metal/eraser end before slicing up the rest of the pencil. When Jackie came home, I had a collection of thin wood pieces about two inches long by a millimeter thick.

"Why did you destroy a perfectly innocent pencil?" she asked me. She set her backpack down on the counter, which sent some sawdust flying due to the resulting gust of air.

"We're going to put these in the door frame when we leave. If they're not there, it means someone's in the apartment."

She picked up one of the pieces to inspect it. "Kind of like Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy?"

"Exactly. Except it should work this time. Also, we're going to put some figurines in the windows. If they're moved or broken, we'll know someone used the window."

"Oh, I've done that before. Except I used cups of beans and counted them every night."

"Perfect. Just remember that it doesn't work unless you reset them every time you leave."

I did not tell Jackie about the man following me, partly because she already had enough to deal with, and partly because I wasn't even sure that he was following me. He could be watching Jackie, or maybe this was all a massive coincidence for all I knew. In any case, it wasn't enough to be conclusive.

In the morning, I made some rice and raisins with apples for breakfast, braided my hair in a loose french braid, and put on some conservative makeup. From the window with my rice and raisins in hand, I watched the bus arrive at my stop and drive away. The sedan was still in that parking spot. When the bus pulled up, it started up its engine and gave a turn signal, but when the driver didn't see me get on the bus, he stopped flashing his lights and turned off the car. So he was planning on following the bus. This called for a change of pace.

There was one last option if I wanted to get to work on time. I finished off my bowl, filled up another one for Jackie, and went to her room. She mumbled something about coming in when I knocked, so I went inside. Batman kept her up late last night, and she had barely managed to tumble horizontally into bed.

"I'm running late today. Can you give me a ride to work?"

She raised her head off the bed and gestured for me to give her the bowl. "Okay. When do we leave?"

"As soon as you're done eating. And you've changed out of your armor. The sooner the better, though."

It took her looking down at her jacket before she would believe me. I left her so she could get ready, then made her a cup of coffee in her new teacup. Ten minutes later, she reemerged dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket and had two helmets, one under her arm and the other in her hand. Even though she still looked bleary-eyed, her face brightened up when she saw that she got to use her special teacup. "Ready to go?" she asked in between unladylike gulps.

"Yup." I put on my coat, grabbed my bag and keys, and we left out the front door. Before we went downstairs, I put two pieces of wood in the door frame close to the ground level, and then a third on the ground. If someone came in the door without noticing the wood, there would be three pieces on the floor. If someone did notice the wood, then I would come home to three pieces in the door frame. Jackie watched me to memorize where I put the slivers so she could repeat the same when she left for work.

Jackie gave me one of the helmets. I hoped that it wouldn't mess up my hair too bad, but there were more important things to worry about. Getting on her Ducati wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be, mostly because I was wearing a pantsuit this time and not a skirt. I held on to her waist and she started off with a sudden burst of speed.

Turning my head in a motorcycle helmet wasn't easy, and I didn't like the fact that it took away most of my peripheral vision, but I managed to catch a glimpse of the people following us through the rear-view mirrors. As soon as we passed the green sedan, I saw it suddenly start its engine and pull out to follow us. However, Jackie naturally drives to lose tails, and she wove us into traffic where he vanished.

Since Jackie only had one ear and a helmet covering it, giving her directions was a bit difficult. Not impossible, though. With some simple hand signals and tapping, I was able to tell her how to get to Wayne Tower. Two taps for turn ahead, one tap for turn here, the direction depending on which hand I used.

We pulled into the parking garage under Wayne Tower so she could let me off. I attached my helmet to the back of her bike so I wouldn't have to carry it home. She pulled up her visor to talk to me. "I have to work tonight, so I can't pick you up. Is that okay?"

"That's fine. I'll just take the bus like usual. Thanks for the lift."

I waved goodbye to her as she drove out of the garage. I watched her rejoin traffic and turn the wrong way back towards home. Just as she made her turn, I noticed that she passed a familiar green sedan that was signaling to turn into the parking garage. Not one of the many things I felt like dealing with today, and I handled it the only way I knew how: I ran.

I took the first elevator up to the top floor and took refuge at my desk and in my work. As long as I was here, I was safe.

On his way out of the office, Mr. Wayne stopped by my desk for any messages he might have missed while he was in meetings. I had plenty of messages, but only two for him. "You're clear for your meeting on Monday, and I've arranged accommodations for the representatives from Japan at the Marriott. They're looking forward to meeting with you."

"Hm." Somehow, I don't think he was listening to me. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes. Everything's coming along fine."

"I'm not talking about work." He turned the chair in front of my desk around and sat down, leaning an arm on the chair back. "You braided your hair today."

"So? Sometimes I braid my hair." I didn't mean to be so defensive, but he was aiming at something I didn't want to discuss with him.

"You've never braided your hair to work before, and you're showing distinct signs of helmet hair."

Dang. I thought I had gotten rid of that. I shrugged. "I was late, so I got my sister to give me a ride on her motorcycle."

"Why were you running late?"

"My alarm clock didn't go off. I was rushing."

"You don't wake up late, Jenny. You braided your hair and wore slacks because you wanted Jackie to give you a ride. As to why ..." He paused so he could study me some more with his hand on his chin. "I suspect that it has something to do with the intrusive nature of James Carroll."

I bit my lip for a second, trying to figure out how to get out of this questioning. "You, Mr. Wayne, are smarter than you let on."

"And you are trying to change the subject. He's not just calling you, is he. What's really going on?"

Well my sister's a vigilante, my dad is in town chasing a serial killer that I'm not supposed to know about, but I do, someone's been breaking into my house, I have a lab due today, I'm being followed, and James won't stop calling me. I picked on the one that I could explain the best. "James Carroll isn't letting up. He figured out my work number, he's sent me two cards. And I'm pretty sure I'm being followed." I admitted that last one quietly.

Mr. Wayne's expression went from bemusedly worried to gravely concerned. "Have you filed a restraining order?"

"Over what? I don't know that it is James Carroll following me, I don't even know for sure that I am being followed, and he hasn't made any threats against me. There's nothing I can do except wait for it to get worse. All I'm worried about so far is one car parked in the same spot two nights in a row that has a clear line of sight to my living room window. I've tried taking a look at it on my way to and from the bus stop, but I just can't see anything."

"What happened to your car?"

"I lent it to my dad because he wanted a car that wouldn't stand out."

"Did he follow you here?"

"I think so."

"Then take one of the company cars." I started to protest since being in the middle of a mass of people could keep me safe, but he cut me off. "Jenny, you are an asset to this company and I want to keep you safe. More than that, you deserve to feel safe getting to and from work. Do you understand?"

The absolute sincerity in his voice shocked me, and I was nearly at a loss for words. "Yes, Mr. Wayne. Thank you."

"Make sure you call the police before things get worse, and if you need anything, you have my number."

"Nothing's going to happen," I assured him, "but I will. Definitely. Thank you."

He stood up with a smile, happy that he had solved a problem in the world. "You're very welcome. Have a good night!" he chirped as he left the office.

This actually made me feel much, much better, mostly because I would be changing my daily patterns a bit. I really didn't feel like going home with a different disguise every night anyhow. I pulled up the list of available cars and picked one that sounded like it wasn't as expensive as everything else. Driving huge bundles of money always felt a little ridiculous to me because I didn't trust myself or the other drivers not to crash or crash into me.

I retrieved the key from the security desk downstairs and found the car in the parking garage. It was a sterling gray Lincoln Town Car made in 2014. According to Wayne Enterprises' records, it was the oldest company car. Only the best for Mr. Wayne's employees. I unlocked the car door with the key fob, carefully slid into the driver's seat, adjusted everything so I could drive safely, double checked that I hadn't ruined anything yet, and then dared to turn on the car.

Even the engine running smoothly felt too good for me, but I could see why Jackie was willing to shell out the big bucks for a very nice Ducati instead of buying just a decent bike. This power felt good, and I was eager to use it on the road.

The first place I took my new (borrowed) car was school since, well, school. I almost couldn't wait to be done with chemistry, even though science is how I escape from the word, by diving straight back into it. Still, there were things to be taken care of at home, and I couldn't help but be nervous that someone would hurt my car while I was away.

As soon as the professor let me go, I raced happily for home. To add to the good things of my day, the parking spot that I could see from my window was empty. The green sedan was nowhere in sight. I hadn't even seen it anywhere near school. That must mean that it was all just a big coincidence and/or I was moving too fast and unexpectedly for the driver to keep up. I took the empty spot just to spite the driver of the green sedan.

I took the stairs two at a time to get home faster. I put my key in the lock, turned it and opened the door. No pieces of wood fell out of the door. In fact, there were three on the ground already. Someone had already come in, and according to the lights, Jackie wasn't home.

I grabbed the bat sitting next to the door, kicked off my shoes quietly, and tip toed inside. Then I began to go through my entire apartment. The living room was clear, as was the kitchen, the bathroom, and both the bedrooms. Just to make sure, I looked under every chair, behind every shower curtain (the total of which is 1), and under every bed. While doing so, I checked the cups of beans next to the windows. 25, 29, 27, with a pinto bean on top of each pile of red beans. No one was hiding in my apartment, and no one had touched the windows.

It took three sweeps before I believed myself and relaxed enough to turn on the lights and set down my bat. The next step was to figure out what had gone missing. From what I gathered, none of my clothes were missing, neither were any of Jackie's. I still had all of my shoes minus the Mary-Janes, my stack of textbooks was untouched, my mess of newspapers hadn't been moved from its proper location in front of the TV, and all of my toiletries were still organized correctly.

After a good hour of looking, I couldn't find anything missing. So someone broke in here for kicks and giggles. Or Jackie just forgot to put the wood slivers back in the door frame. It was plausible, despite being unlikely, so I decided to get dinner ready and do the dishes.

I filled up the sink with some hot, soapy water and cleaned the bowls from breakfast and the dishes from dinner last night that I hadn't felt like cleaning up. The last thing I went to wash was Jackie's teacup and saucer, but as I ran a hand through the soapy water, I realized they weren't there. I checked the cupboard, but Jackie hadn't cleaned them and put them away. As far as I could tell, Jackie's cup and saucer was the item that was stolen today. She would not be happy to hear about this.

White stockings

Black Mary-Janes

Cocktail Dress

Teacup and saucer

The list didn't make sense to me. Why would James – if not him, anybody – need any of these things? I could understand taking things that belonged to me, but the teacup threw me off.

I came home on Friday with my arms full of textbooks. Somehow the carrying capacity of a vehicle translates into a lot more things that I can study, but that I won't actually get around to reading. I unlocked the door and checked the door frame for the slivers of wood. Due to my books, I nearly missed them. One, two, three pieces of wood in the frame.

So my intruder was getting clever. He found the slivers of wood and thought to put them back. Maybe it wasn't James.

Jackie called me on my way in. "Hey Jenny! I won't be coming home tonight," she said breathlessly, almost like she was running.

"What's going on?" I asked her as I set my books down on the kitchen table.

"Dad called and said Audrey just woke up in the hospital. I'm going to go see her, see how she's doing. Will you be alright without me?"

"I'm sure I will. I have my collection of baseball bats to keep me company." I started walking through my house, counting the beans. 25, 29, 27.

"Okay. Call me if you need me to come beat someone up. I really feel like beating someone up tonight."

"Just make sure they deserve it." I started a cursory inspection of my things to figure out what had gone missing. I was just starting with my bedroom.

"Oh! And before you panic when you're missing one of your books, I borrowed The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes because I needed something to read today."

"Okay, good to know." Instinctively, my eyes went to my packed bookshelf in my room to find the hole in the row. Oddly enough, I couldn't find it. "Be careful, alright."

After Jackie hung up, I got a chair from the kitchen and took it to my room so I could get to the top shelf where all my Cs were. Yes, one of my Sherlock Holmes books by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was missing, but that wasn't surprising. The addition to my collection of authors whose last name started with C, was.

I pulled out a copy of Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, printed by Barnes and Noble. I most certainly had not bought this book. A gift from my intruder?

"Curiouser and curiouser."