"You're not my lawyer," Wyatt, known on the streets and Brake, said to Damien. He had just arrived in the visitation area of the prison. He was on the phone and was speaking to Damien from behind the glass.
"I just want to ask you a few questions," Damien said to Wyatt.
"Look man I already told you cops everything I know. Didn't the child get away? What do you need with me?" Wyatt asked him impatiently.
Damien had to do a lot of research from the outside. Damien no longer had the privileges of a police officer since he was suspended and Gordon had him turn in his badge. He had to use his contacts within the police precincts to get information about the situation. There was very little information about the woman that was on the Joker's team. One piece of evidence they had found was about two seconds of video footage from a camera near the metal Factory where the girl was being held.
All that could be seen was a woman and a ski mask with bright red hair. There was no footage of her leaving the building so they had to assume that she escaped on the other side where there were no cameras. There was no footage of the Batman at all.
So far Damien had interviewed three of the men that were on the Joker's team. The three men he had interviewed had never worked with the woman, which was something that Damien was not aware of until he asked them about her hair. The other men that had been arrested were working their very first job with with Joker. Wyatt was the last one that was in custody that Damien had not interviewed. Chris had gotten away and he was the only other person who would have been the only one able to answer the question. Damien had given them all the test question: What color was the woman's hair?
None of them knew the correct answer so far.
"I need to ask you about a woman working on the Joker's team," Damien asked Wyatt.
"I'm no snitch," Wyatt told him.
"A 30-year sentence is a long time for a young man. How would you like to make it 5?"
Wyatt was quiet as he thought. The man had not showed him a badge or confirmed he was with the police . For all Wyatt knew, this man had no influence over his sentencing. But just in case he did, he was willing to give him something. However, he was not a snitch. He would give them in just enough to make him feel that he had some information but not enough to identify his team member.
"Okay," Wyatt agreed. "What do you want to know?"
"What color was her hair? " Damien asked.
Wyatt looked away. It wasn't her real hair color. He was the only one on the Joker's team who knew this, apart from the Joker himself.
"Red," Wyatt said.
Damien smiled. This was the most accurate answer he had gotten all day.
"What kind of red?" Damien asked.
"Stop sign red," Wyatt said.
"Okay," Damien said and pulled out a notepad. "What was her name?"
"Sheena," Wyatt lied. He knew her real name was Adriana. But like he said, he was no snitch. She knew his name wasn't Brake and she trusted him enough to tell him her true name.
"How tall was she?" Damien asked.
"'Bout 5' 5''," Wyatt answered honestly.
"Eye color?" Damien asked.
"Brown," he said. He knew Adriana's eyes were blue, her hair color was a very dark blonde, and he had even been to her home once. But he wouldn't tell a cop this. He knew she wore contacts.
"Okay," Damien nodded. "What else do you know about her?"
"Nothing," Brake said. "We don't share personal information. We do the job and leave."
"Right," Damien said. "Was this woman...Sheena...was she romantically involved with the Joker?"
Wyatt was quiet for a moment. He got the feeling that this man already knew the answer to the question. In order to avoid squandering his opportunity at reducing his sentence he had to tell the truth. None of the information he had given would lead him to Adriana, he told himself, so it didn't matter. 30 years was a long time.
Wyatt gave one slow nod.
"So she was," Damien said. He had found her.
"Yep," Wyatt answered.
"And you are positive that she was involved with him," Damien asked. "In a romantic context."
"Yes," Wyatt said.
"May I ask how you know that is true?" Damien asked.
Wyatt crossed his arms.
"You think I'm lying to you?" Wyatt asked.
Damien didn't want to upset him. He was the only lead so far that was getting him anywhere. He finally had something.
"No, of course not," Damien said. "I am just trying to put the pieces together and I appreciate your assistance. Truly."
Wyatts arms relaxed.
"None of us knew they were...together...then we did...know what I'm saying?" Wyatt said.
"Yes," Damien said and began to write notes. "Go on."
"So... we heard them," Wyatt said. "Me and..two others on the team. Heard boss and Sheena."
"Heard them? Heard what?" Damien asked. "I need you to be specific."
Wyatt thought it was obvious.
"What you want me to say?" Wyatt said. "That it sounded like she was getting dicked down in there?"
Damien's pen stopped moving.
"So you heard them having sex," Damien said.
"Yes," Wyatt answered.
"Was this recently?" Damien asked.
"Recent?" Wyatt asked. "Bout...month and a half ago? Six weeks."
"And their...involvement continued afterwards?" Damien asked.
"We never heard them fucking on the job again if that's what you trying to ask," Wyatt said. "But yeah...she was boss' chick."
"Was she forced to do this?" Damien asked. "I'm aware that the Joker had forced some of his team through threat of death-"
"Nahhh," Wyatt said, almost laughing. "Nobody got raped man."
Wyatt looked at Damien who didn't look convinced.
"She was feelin' him," Wyatt said. "We all knew it. I was cool with her...know what I'm saying? Talked to her a lot. She was chill."
Damien wrote another sentence on his paper.
"Okay...Tell me, what was wrong with her?" Damien asked.
"What?" Wyatt asked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Was she deformed? Mentally ill?" Damien asked.
Damien could hardly make out much of the woman's appearance from the few seconds of video footage he had gotten. Her face was not visible at all.
"Nahhh," Wyatt began to laugh again. "Nothing wrong with her."
"What did she look like?" Damien asked.
"She was...you know...she was bad," Wyatt said. "Can't lie."
"Bad..." Damien wanted to be clear. "So you are saying she was attractive."
"Yeah," Wyatt said.
Damien was confounded. The imprisoned man in front of him was of much higher than average attractiveness. Unlike the Joker, Damien thought, this man would be able to discern whether or not a woman was truly good looking.
"Rate her," Damien asked, aware that he now sounded unprofessional. But he did not care.
"Man, what?" Wyatt laughed. "I ain't rating anyone."
"Maybe that five year sentence can be three years. I can make those fingerprints we found in Pottstown disappear from our evidence inventory," Damien said.
"Okay..." Wyatt sighed, clearly the man had some type of a connection to the police. "On a one to ten?"
"Yes," Damien asked, losing patience.
"Aiiiight," Wyatt said. It seemed easy enough. "I mean...I usually like women a little thicker you know."
"Mhm," Damien said.
"She was small," Wyatt said. "Skinny side for me. Still fine though. So...I'd give her like a...solid 9.7. If she was thick, an 10.".
Damien yanked out his phone and showed Wyatt the woman he and DeMarco agreed was an 8. He found a picture of her standing. He didn't even consider showing him the picture of Adriana, as she looked thin and withdrawn in the pictures he had, though she was beautiful. He needed to show Wyatt a woman with an hourglass figure to see what his rating would be.
"What about her?" Damien asked.
"Damn," Wyatt said and looked at the woman in a tight and short white dress. "Best thing I seen all week."
"Rate her," Damien said.
"Aiiight..." Wyatt said. "8. Solid."
Damien was growing frustrated with the fact that the Joker has not been lying.
"Something must have been wrong with her," Damien said and put his phone down. "This...Sheena woman. Mentally or-"
"Wasn't nothing wrong with her, man. I'm telling you. Even I tried to get at her, but she ended up with boss," Wyatt said.
Damien wasn't sure what to say. The Joker wasn't joking when he gave her an eleven. It made no sense.
"Describe her appearance to me in more detail. What was her ethnicity?" Damien said.
He knew her hair's true color was a dark blonde and her eyes were blue but her features were very ethnic. Despite her fair colored features, to him, she looked biracial, but that would be too identifying for him to give to Damien. He decided to lie again.
"I guess she was Asian. Maybe Middle Eastern.I'm not good at identifying these things though," Wyatt said. "She had dark eyes...nice face. Can't really describe it though. Only saw it a few times. We wore masks a lot."
"Right," Damien said scribbling more notes.
"So...you gonna work on my sentence?" Wyatt asked.
"Of course," Damien said. "One more thing."
Wyatt began to suspect the man had no influence or control over his sentencing. He was glad that the identifying information he had given would likely be useless.
"Yeah?" Wyatt asked.
"Do you believe your boss," Damien asked. "Cared for this woman?"
Wyatt leaned back.
"Hard to say..." Wyatt said. "He let her get away with a lot of shit. Shit he would have killed others for. Shit I've seen him kill others for. So...yeah...I'd say he cared about her."
.
.
.
"Don't push yourself too hard," Bruce said to Adriana.
He found her in his gym on the stationary bike, with sweat pouring down her face. It was eight in the evening and Bruce was dressed to go out. She pulled out her earphones when she saw him come into the room.
"What did you say?" she asked.
"I said, not to push yourself too hard," he said with a smile.
"I won't," she said. "I'm just bored I guess. It's hard being cooped up all the time and I think exercise is good use of time."
"I'm sorry about that," Bruce said, sincerely. "It shouldn't be much longer now. Hopefully the trial should be wrapped up in another week."
"Right," she said and wiped the sweat off of her forehead. "You look very nice."
"Oh, thanks," Bruce said, and looked down at his suit. "Have a date in a bit."
"Oh, that's good," Adriana said and tried to smile, even though it was a bit awkward.
"Kinda awkward, telling you about it...but since you're living here and we're friends-" he said.
"Not awkward at all," Adriana smiled and put one of her earphones back in. "I hope you have a good time, but should I make myself scarce?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, and then immediately realized the answer to his own question. "Oh, no, no, don't worry about it, we'll go to her place if it gets to that point."
"Right," Adriana said. "Well, I hope you have a good time."
"Thanks," Bruce said as she put her other earphone in and began to cycle again.
Once Bruce was gone, Adriana moved to lifting weights. Then to the elliptical. Then back to weights. When she was spent she went into the kitchen to find Alfred pouring lemonade over ice.
"That looks amazing," Adriana said.
"Good, because it's for you," Alfred said. "Have you taken your prenatal vitamin today?"
"Yes," Adriana said and laughed as she took the glass Alfred handed to her.
"Did you need anything else to eat?" he asked.
"No, I think I've eaten all I'll eat for today..until I get the midnight cravings," she said. "Is there more cheesecake?"
"Yes," he told her. "Plenty."
"Well then I think I'm all set," she smiled.
"Very good," he said before leaving the kitchen. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."
Adriana drank three glasses of lemonade before returning to her room. Once inside she pulled off her gym clothes and tossed them into the laundry bin by her bathroom door. She fought the urge to turn on the television for about two seconds before she gave in. The news channels were replaying parts of the trial. She saw Dr. Andrews, the doctor who treated her when she was institutionalized, giving testimony. He declared that he believed that the Joker was, in fact, mentally ill, and that the insanity plea should not be dismissed. For a moment, the Joker appeared on the screen. His face was painted and he looked completely disinterested in everything going on around him. He looked like his mind was elsewhere.
She found herself wondering what he was thinking. Was he thinking of her?
No, she told herself. The look in his eyes when he saw that she had betrayed him said it all. She had let Pavla go. He hated her. It was too much to consider, and she shut the TV off.
Then, she went into the bathroom, pulling off her undergarments and turning on the shower. She looked at her reflection for a moment, and turned to the side. She noticed the tiny bulge in her stomach. It was so small that she considered that maybe she was imagining it, since it seemed to have appeared overnight. But she cradled it in her hands and rotated her body again and again. It was there. There was definitely a baby growing inside of her.
She stepped into the shower and faced the stream of water. She allowed the warmth and steam to relax her and take her away. In her mind, she was home. She was in her own shower. She could smell the vanilla scented plug in the wall. She could smell the brand of shampoo that she used at home.
But more than anything else, she could feel his presence. She was remembering a moment with him. A moment at home.
She turned around, the water rinsing her hair. She could feel him standing behind her. Her eyes were still closed when she felt his kiss. She laughed as he put a loud squeaky kiss on her chin. He kissed her mouth again, his lips hitting her teeth as she continued to laugh. He let his tongue glide into her mouth and the sensation was so fresh in her memory, it felt incredibly real.
He wrapped his arms around her and she wrapped hers around his shoulders.
Pick me up, she remembered whispering, before she planted several kisses on his cheeks. She felt his scars on her lips, his hair slick under her fingertips, as she rose into his arms. Then, she reached down behind her hips with one arm, guiding him into her. Their kissing went deeper and as she felt herself overcome with pleasure, the truth began to set in. She fought it as best she could, kissing him more aggressively and sinking her nails into his back, trying to cling to the memory. She held on for dear life.
"Don't go," she heard herself say out loud. The sound of her voice echoing off of the tile walls in the bathroom pulled her from her waking dream.
She opened her eyes. She was hugging herself tightly and she could feel tears, hotter than the water in the shower, running down her cheeks. Sinking down to the floor of the shower, she couldn't stop herself from crying out loud. She needed to be strong, for herself and for her baby. Letting go was too hard but she had to do it, she just didn't know where to begin. She could still taste his lips on hers, and wanted nothing more than to slip further back in to the memory.
That chapter of her life was over, and she knew he was never coming back. And she could never tell another soul about him. She would never even be able to tell her son. She felt her heart swelling in her throat, when she realized she was alone in this. The biggest secret of her life.
She had felt like she had been doing so well, all things considered. Ever since she was poisoned and the Joker had been arrested, she held it together. There were no feelings, she was numb. She was strong enough to just move on. She wasn't expecting this sudden breakdown.
Hopefully, this was it. Her one and only cry over this situation. Be strong, she told herself. Get a grip. You made a mistake and now you must deal with it. He is gone. You will survive. Time will heal all this pain.