The relentless rain in Gotham was nothing out of the ordinary, just another layer of gloom for the city that had grown accustomed to misery. The streets glistened with wet despair, and the citizens moved about in soggy discontent.

For Commissioner Jim Gordon, it was just another miserable morning. He cherished his rare days off, seeking solace in the embrace of his warm bed, but on this particular day, the cruel hand of fate intervened. He had explicitly warned everyone that unless an apocalypse was at hand, they should not disturb his much-needed rest. He had even added, in a tone of sarcasm, "Unless Hell freezes over, the heavens above fell from the skies, or if the Joker was dead." It was meant as a statement of the impossible. Yet, to his shock, surprise, and perhaps relief, it was the third option.

The call came in the midst of his sleep, shattering the tranquility of his day off. The report of an attempted carjacking had brought him back to the cruel reality of Gotham's never-ending chaos. With a heavy sigh and a racing heart, he reluctantly left his sanctuary.

As he sped through the rain-soaked streets, the siren wailing in the miserable morning, he couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. There was something about this call that set off alarms in his experienced mind. Arriving at the scene, the flashing police lights pierced the darkness of the dimly lit alley, revealing the aftermath of chaos.

A shattered taxi stood there, rain-slicked and forlorn, with the driver slumped against the vehicle, visibly traumatized by the recent horrors. Gordon's eyes, well-practiced in observing crime scenes, scanned the area. Shattered glass, scattered debris, and the taxi's engine still running told the story of a violent struggle.

But what caught his attention, and left him dumbfounded, was the sight of the Joker. There, on the cold, wet ground, lay the infamous criminal, his chalk-white face marred by blood, and his twisted grin now forever face, contorted in a visage of surprise. Almost as if this was not how he expected his end to come.

It was a surreal moment, to see the embodiment of chaos and malevolence in Gotham, who had tormented the city for so long, now reduced to a lifeless form.

Harvey Bullock walked up to The Commissioner with a cup of coffee for him, "Well…the deceased is as you know, The Joker. Three gunshots took him down, two to the stomach, and one to the head, right in his left eye socket."

As Harvey Bullock delivered the update on the gruesome scene, Commissioner Gordon couldn't help but take a sip of the hot coffee, a small comfort in the midst of the grim situation. The downpour continued, a relentless backdrop to the chilling discovery.

"From what we gathered, The Joker was leaving the scene of some sort of botched heist job. His crew was stopped by Red Robin, and Orphan. His getaway driver apparently bailed on him and took off, and The Joker ran away to find another ride. Which led to…." Harvey motioned at the scene before Jim Gordon.

Gordon's gaze remained fixed on the lifeless body of the Joker, his mind racing. The fact that the Joker lay dead at his feet sent shivers down his spine, a mix of emotions swirling within him. Relief, that one of Gotham's most sinister threats was no more, warred with astonishment that the clown prince of crime had met his end at the hands of an ordinary person. Gordon looked at the driver of the Taxi. "Who's the driver?"

Bullock cleared his throat, "Taylor Rutlidge, 29, part time Taxi Driver. I haven't had anyone take his statement yet, the poor kid's a bit shaken up."

The circumstances surrounding the Joker's death would undoubtedly raise countless questions, and Gordon knew he needed to get to the bottom of this. The police commissioner took a deep breath and turned to Harvey Bullock. "Start gathering evidence," Gordon softly ordered, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "This scene, no matter how surreal it may seem, needs to be investigated just like any other crime. We need to find out exactly what happened here."

Gordon then moved toward Taylor Rutledge, the trembling taxi driver who had been pushed to the brink. He approached with a sense of empathy, understanding that this ordeal had likely left deep scars. "Mr. Rutledge," he began, "I need to hear your account of what transpired here. Every detail is crucial."

The young man did not look at the Police Commissioner. It appeared as if he was in his own little world. Millions of miles away from the current scene right then and there.

"Mr. Rutledge?" Gordon said, his voice calm and reassuring.

Jim finally got through to the young man. "What? I'm sorry, who are you?"

"I'm Commissioner James Gordon. I would like to speak with you about what has happened here. Please, take your time, and tell us in your own words what happened during the attempted carjacking."

Taylor Rutledge took a deep breath, his hands still trembling as he recounted the terrifying ordeal. "I was just doing my usual night shift," he began, his voice quivering. "It was pouring rain, and the streets were empty. I parked in the alleyway to take a break, and maybe catch a small nap."

As Taylor spoke, his eyes wandered to the taxi, a stark reminder of the events that had unfolded. "Suddenly this guy ran up to the side of my cab and pointed a gun at me! He demanded that I get out of the cab."

Gordon listened intently, his face serious. "What did you do next, Mr. Rutledge?"

"I... I didn't have much of a choice," Taylor continued, his voice filled with the fear he had experienced. "I got out of the cab, but as soon as I stepped out, he lunged at me!"

The rain continued to pour, adding a somber backdrop to the narrative. "I was scared for my life," Taylor said, his voice wavering. "I had a licensed firearm in the glove compartment for protection, and I knew I had to use it. I fired a few shots, not even sure if they hit him. He fell to the ground, and... and that's when I called the police."

Commissioner Gordon maintained his empathetic demeanor, recognizing the immense stress Taylor had been under. "You did what you had to do, Mr. Rutledge," Jim consoled the driver, his voice filled with understanding. "It's clear this was a case of self-defense. The Joker's actions left you with no other choice. We'll make sure this is thoroughly investigated, but I want you to know that you did the right thing in a very difficult situation."

Gordon turned to Harvey Bullock, who had been silently listening. "Harvey, make sure Taylor's statement is documented accurately, and we'll need to examine the cab for any evidence. Let's also call for the morgue, they will need to get ready to tend to the Joker. As insane as he was, he still needs to be processed like any other corpse."

Harvey Bullock nodded in acknowledgment of Commissioner Gordon's orders. He put a reassuring hand on Taylor Rutledge's shoulder. "Come on, kid. We're going to the station for a more detailed statement. It'll be okay," he said, guiding the trembling taxi driver toward a waiting police car.

As they left the scene, a team of forensic technicians arrived, meticulously documenting and examining the crime scene. They combed over every shard of glass, every piece of evidence, and every drop of blood, hoping to piece together the sequence of events that had led to the Joker's demise. Their work would be crucial in reconstructing the incident and corroborating Taylor's account.

Commissioner Gordon, with his experienced eye for detail, watched as the techs worked diligently. He knew that this investigation had to be airtight, given the potential implications of the Joker's death on Gotham's criminal landscape. His thoughts briefly drifted to the nearby apartment buildings, their windows reflecting the grim scene below. He wondered if anyone had witnessed the events and if they would come forward with vital information.

It was then that he noticed a shadowy figure perched high above the alley, on a rooftop, silhouetted against the gloomy sky. The Batman, the city's dark protector, had been watching over the crime scene, as he often did when chaos unfolded in Gotham.

Their eyes briefly met, a silent acknowledgment of the grim task at hand. The Caped Crusader turned and disappeared into the night, leaving Commissioner Gordon to continue overseeing the investigation into the Joker's death. The rain continued to fall, washing the streets of Gotham clean of one of its most notorious villains, but leaving behind a host of unanswered questions and an uncertain future for the city.