gothamscitizens (
gothamscitizens) wrote2012-06-09 12:08 pm
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Clown in a cage
MCU is close to a madhouse.
Any cop-killer who gets brought into the GCPD's holding cells is looking at a rough night, but the Joker isn't just any cop-killer. He's the one responsible for the death of Commissioner Loeb, he's had everyone's families in a panic for days, and he just wreaked havoc all over the streets with -- according to the gossip -- nothing less than a bazooka. Or a grenade launcher, depending on who you ask.
A couple of the older guys on the force, men who can be relied on to stay calm and tough, are assigned to searching and disarming him of his knives before they shove him into a holding cell.
It's . . . a lot of knives.
Any cop-killer who gets brought into the GCPD's holding cells is looking at a rough night, but the Joker isn't just any cop-killer. He's the one responsible for the death of Commissioner Loeb, he's had everyone's families in a panic for days, and he just wreaked havoc all over the streets with -- according to the gossip -- nothing less than a bazooka. Or a grenade launcher, depending on who you ask.
A couple of the older guys on the force, men who can be relied on to stay calm and tough, are assigned to searching and disarming him of his knives before they shove him into a holding cell.
It's . . . a lot of knives.
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The Joker is docile as you please all the way through. He sits down neatly on the bench in his cage—call it what it is—and watches the man in the blue gloves go through the pockets of his jacket.
The really funny part is the way he hesitates every time he pulls out a new one, like he's hoping this is going to be the last but pretty sure it isn't.
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"Barb, it's me. I'm... I'm so sorry, Barb. I'll explain when I get home tonight. And I will get home."
The second thing he did was march right down to the cells, to find his men standing aggressively around the Joker's personal accommodation.
This is great.
"Stand away! All of you!" he bellows into the room, and is not surprised when they do. "I don't want anything for his mob lawyer to use, you understand?"
They are going to do this by the book. To the very letter.
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"Back from the dead?"
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"I, uh..."
It was her idea. I just saw the wisdom
"...couldn't risk my family's safety."
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"What do we got?"
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He's seen the notes. He doesn't like them.
"Nothing. No matches on prints, DNA, dental. Clothing is custom, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives and lint.
"No name. No other alias."
It's giving him a headache just thinking about it.
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He isn't smiling, but then, in a sense he is always smiling, isn't he?)
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"Go home, Gordon. The clown'll keep 'till morning. Get some rest."
He's been thinking about this for a couple of days -- and, well, there's no time like the present, especially the way things have been going lately.
"You're gonna need it," he continues, starting to smile. "Tomorrow you take the big job. You don't have any say in the matter."
And, louder, so all Gordon's men can hear: "Commissioner Gordon."
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Jim's too tired to be surprised. Or to be particularly excited. He shakes the Mayor's hand numbly, then turns to do the same with Stephens, catching Ramirez' smile as she and the rest of his men applaud.
All he can think about is that now he can get to the real work of straightening out the force.
As long as Barbara doesn't kill him before he gets to work in the morning.
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There is one person in the room who is the last to stop clapping.
He's proud of Jimmy, really he is. Coming back from the dead is a neat trick. The Joker can't wait to see what he does next.
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And then there's a flurry of phone calls in which the names Dent and Dawes appear frequently, and with increasing urgency.
One of the men who searched the Joker, a gray-haired and wiry cop by the name of King, unlocks the holding cell door.
"You." He points at the Joker. "On your feet. Hands behind your back."
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smiles,
and does just as he's asked.
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King marches in and cuffs the Joker's hands anyway, keeping an eye on the thugs in the cell -- especially the big one whining in the corner.
King and his partner take the Joker down a hallway and lead him into a darkened, silent interrogation room, where they sit him down in a hard metal chair and re-cuff his hands in front of him. The lamp on the table is the only source of illumination.
"Wait here," King orders as they leave.
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"Has he said anything yet?"
When Ramirez shakes her head apologetically, he walks straight into the interrogation room.
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Going
To do this
By the book.
Jim strolls into the interrogation room, and proceeds to the desk, making a show of wiping off dust from the table as he sits down. Before he says anything, he makes himself comfortable, resting his arms on the table and looking calmly at the monster in front of him.
"Rachel Dawes never made it home."
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"What have you done with her?"
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"Who did you leave her with? Mm? Your people?" With an exaggerated sly look: "Assuming of course that they are still your people, and not..." for example, "Maroni's."
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Nothing for him, and nothing for the people listening outside. They have to know he trusts them.
And he trusts them.
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"Does it depress you, Commissioner," he asks softly, "to know... just how alone you really are? Does it make you feel responsible for Rachel Dawes' current predicament?"
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Because he already feels responsible for everything that happens in this city. And nothing you can say can add more to that burden.
But you go on believing that, if it'll keep you talking.
"Where is she?"
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"What's the time?"
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