AN: Nail stickers-stickers made of nail polish, basically. They come in patterns or solid colours (but who cares about solid colours? that's what bottles are for!) and last for up to fourteen days if you don't screw up the application process and topcoat every few days. There really is a 'love letter' version-it looks like a letter written in cursive.
Christineoftheopera-You're the only one who'd miss that damn clown. God, if he fell off a roof and died I might celebrate.
Johanna Crane-So would I. For that matter, I'd hate to be in Gordon's shoes at the mo'. Last I saw him he wasn't looking so well. Poor thing.
The homicidal robot-the Dalek, Marquis had called it-hailed from a novelty shop/bookstore downtown called Paper Hearts. Once she was over her fright (there was no way that was tea in that flask), the manager was very…helpful.
"That's her. She used to come in with a young man sometimes. Very polite, always. He used to about clear out my psychology shelves, though." She took another swig. "She was in…oh, last month, I think. Poor dear, she looked an awful mess."
"Did she buy anything besides this?"
"A pack of my Love Letter nail stickers and…let me see."
He left her to boot up the computer again and looked at the stickers in question. She wouldn't be using those against him, anyway. Good.
"Ah, yes. The Dalek, the stickers, and a book of steampunk stories."
She wouldn't be using that against him, either. Hopefully, anyway.
"Did you speak to her at all?"
"Not really. She looked a bit frazzled-I got the impression she wanted to go home."
"She didn't say anything at all?"
"Why are you asking all these questions?"
In answer, he pulled out another picture of Richardson-this one with Crane in it.
"Is this the man she came in with sometimes?"
"Yes."
"This was the Scarecrow." Her hand flew to her mouth for half a minute before she took another swig from her flask. "He died not long ago and she was very upset."
"Oh." Her voice was shaking. "I see. Well…well, I'm afraid I can't help you. As I said, she was upset. I thought perhaps they'd had a falling out or something…they seemed close, when they came in."
That was the problem. Joker might have a temporary rampage if something were to happen to Harley, but he'd move on soon enough.
"Thank you."
He left her downing the last of her drink and got back into the car. That really hadn't been helpful. He still had no idea where the hell she was. For all he knew, she was out of the city.
Or dead…but that was unlikely. She'd want to come after him personally.
He looked at the list of things that had been found in the women's apartments again. Nail polish, jewelry, clothes…
Perhaps the second victim was awake now.
She was not and he ended up back in the car, staring at the list. He was missing something, there had to be something. Unless…
"Jim."
"Huh?"
"Check the blood types."
THE END