The next morning, Harley picked up a newspaper on her way to work. Sure enough, it had printed the letter from the Joker, which read:
Greetings, Gotham! It's your friendly, neighborhood clown criminal with a little message for the Batman! There's a party going down tonight, and you're the guest of honor! People will just die if you don't show up, so ware your Sunday best and join the house party! We'll have balloons, beverages, and Bacardi! We just need a Batman to make it a party! See you soon, buddy! Love, the Joker.
Harley smiled as she read it in her office, and then checked her watch – she reasoned she should wait a few hours to tell the police what the letter meant, so they would believe that she had spent half the day trying to decipher it. In the meantime, she had patients to see, but mostly just let them talk at her while she made affirming noises and sketched out ideas for her Harley Quinn costume.
At lunch, she called GCPD. "Could I speak to Detective Montoya, please?" she asked. "This is Dr. Harleen Quinzel, and I have some information about the Joker."
Her call was transferred instantly. "Dr. Quinzel, is this about that letter from the Joker printed in the Gotham Gazette this morning?" asked Montoya's voice on the other line.
"It is – I think I've figured out what he's trying to tell Batman," said Harley. "Can you get a message to him?"
"I can if you can tell me what it means – nobody here has any idea," retorted Montoya.
"Well, from what little I know about the Joker, he likes to hide jokes in plain sight," replied Harley. "This whole letter is a joke, but it's also a message to Batman telling him what his plan is. He's playing with language, like he likes to play with everything. This line – Ware your Sunday best and join the house party – he's misspelled 'ware.'"
"You think that's intentional?" asked Montoya.
"Yes, I think it's referring to a warehouse," said Harley. "Hence the 'ware' and reference to the 'house' party."
"But what warehouse?" asked Montoya.
"That's the next line," said Harley. "We'll have balloons, beverages, and Bacardi – they're all B words."
"I don't get it," said Montoya.
"There are three B's," explained Harley. "And then five if you count Batman and buddy in the next two lines. So that's Warehouse 5B."
Montoya was silent as she studied the map of Gotham. "That's Falcone's territory," she said. "Do you think he's involved in this? Is he working with the Joker?"
"I don't read the Joker as the kinda guy who would work with anyone," replied Harley. "Maybe he's setting Falcone up as a punchline to one of his jokes. But please tell Batman what the letter means – it says people will die if he doesn't show up. And I do think Batman has to come alone – that's why it says: We just need a Batman to make it a party! Just Batman – anyone else will be in danger."
"Ok," said Montoya. "We'll let him know. If you're right about this and we save lives, I'll make sure you get a medal from the city."
"That's not necessary, Detective – I'm just doing my duty as a good citizen," said Harley with a smile. "Goodbye."
She hung up the phone and then left her office, entering her car and driving away from Arkham. She reached a payphone in a deserted part of the city, and put in some change, dialing a number. It was picked up instantly.
"Message delivered, Mr. J," she said.
"Good girl," he chuckled.
"Will I see you tonight?" she asked. "Do you want me to come to your hideout? I want to hear all about the party."
"You will, pooh," he replied. "But don't worry about coming to me. I'll come to you. After the party, things are going to be different, and you're going to take a very active role in helping me."
"I can't wait, puddin'," she purred. "I got a costume all designed and everything."
"That's good, pumpkin," he said. "But we're going to keep the shrink gag going a little while longer. It's gonna be such a great joke to play on Batsy. You'll see."
"I don't care about Batman," she retorted. "I want to show the world I love you – I want everyone to know that you're mine. My criminal genius, who murdered for me, who chose me, who wants me to live in his image forever and ever."
"And you want to make me happy, don't you?" he asked.
"Of course I do - more than anything," she agreed.
"Then trust me," he said. "Playing this gag on Batman will make me happier than anything else in the world. And it's gonna make you happy too. It's gonna take all your skill, all your cunning, and all your training. It's gonna be a challenge, and my Harley girl loves a challenge, just like I do. You wanted to be involved in my work and my life before, well, this is my work and my life now. Games, deceptions, jokes, an unconventional setup with a surprising punchline. If you just try to take that on board, I think you'll have more fun than you can possibly imagine. It's gonna open up a whole new world for you, a world of fun, mischief, and laughter, and you're gonna love it!"
"Ok. I trust you, puddin'," she replied. "I just miss you every second I'm not with you. Nothing seems to matter without you."
"Then do this for me, sweets," he replied. "Keep to your routine, and I'll see you very soon."
The phone clicked off, and Harley sighed, driving back to Arkham. It was maddening having to follow her regular routine and do her usual work while she was desperate to be with Mr. J. She wondered what he had planned for Batman tonight.
"Harley, can I see you for a moment?" asked Dr. Leland as she re-entered the asylum.
"Oh…sure, Joan," said Harley, following her to her office.
"I've just been speaking to Professor Crane about his upcoming hearing," said Dr. Leland. "He said you had been talking to him about a project that was meant to help showcase his good intentions, something about finding the Joker?"
"Oh yeah, that," replied Harley, nodding. "Professor Crane was always good at psychological profiling, and I thought building a psychological profile of the Joker could help find and catch him. But it turns out we just don't have much to go on."
"No," agreed Dr. Leland. "Between you and me, I'm not even sure this Joker is a real person."
"Well, Professor Crane thinks he is, and I wanted to help him, for old time's sake," continued Harley. "Maybe it was wrong of me after what he did, and I do think he needs to spend lots more time in here, but I thought it would be beneficial to have something good, some act of altruism, to mitigate the evidence against him. I know he didn't mean to kill anyone, and if it could be demonstrated that his intentions are generally good, and oriented toward helping humanity, it might help people forgive what he did."
"I doubt the victim's family will feel that way," retorted Dr. Leland. "Still, I understand why you did it. But I do think you should have asked my permission first, since he's my patient."
"I'm sorry, Joan," said Harley. "You're right, I should have."
She looked contrite enough that Dr. Leland believed her. "Well, I can't blame you for trying to help," she sighed. "But like I said the other day, I think it's best that you leave Professor Crane alone. And leave behind this Joker idea – I think it's a dead end. Focus on helping Dr. Isley and your other patients, ok?"
"Ok, Joan," agreed Harley, nodding. "Thank you. I'm sorry again."
"No need to apologize," said Dr. Leland. "You're a good psychiatrist, Harley, and a compassionate person. We need more people like you in this profession."
Harley left the office with a smile, wondering how much longer she would be in it.