The End? Ch 4
Gordon's meeting with the Mayor was short and to the point. Find the person responsible and find that person yesterday. Oh, and sorry about your house, Commisoner.
Jim made his way to his office. The door was locked, the lights out, just as he left it. Yet, when he opened the door, it was nothing like he had left it.
"Oh God," Jim gasped, quickly stepping in and closing the door behind him. The place had been trashed. There was a large package wrapped in purple and green on his desk. "The Joker."
He quickly stepped out into the hall. He stopped the first cop going by, giving orders to send a squad car to Arkham to check that the Joker was still in his cell. Jim's gut told him the mad man was loose again, but there had been no reports of a breakout.
He went back in his office and locked the door behind him. Then he pulled the cell phone out, dialing the number marked Arkham.
Jim dimly was aware of Bruce's playboy voice answering the phone. He had looked closer at the papers scattered across his office while the phone had dialed and rang. They were computer black and white print outs of pictures of his family. Close ups and copies of the picture he had seen before. From the envelope. He dropped the phone as he slowly walked to the box in the middle of his desk. Gordon needed to know what was in it, but was very afraid of it. Slowly he opened it. Inside was red hair with a ponytail holder at one end. It was thick and had the same texture of his wife's. Lifting it out, he slowly lifted it to his nose and inhaled. It was hers. Her shampoo. There was a letter underneath that the hair had hidden. Sinking into the chair behind his desk, he hesitately opened it. Inside, it read:
"What will happen to the citizens of Gotham, once all three of it's heros have fallen? First the White Knight, then the Bat. Now it is your turn, Commish. I wanted to have fun, but you won't let me. So, I decided to have fun with you. If you want them back in anyway, come out and play."
The entire thing was written on a photo copy of a joker card. The ink was a rust color. It took Gordon a moment to realize that the letter was written in dried blood. Hesitately, he turned it over to see if there was anything on the back. Written in one corner, was the answer to the question he had been afraid to ask himself:
"It's your son's."