On and on, he sang the theme song to Different Strokes. I never liked the show, but Dick was obsessed with it for a long time. I never understood why.

Clifton walked up and poked Joker with his nightstick.

“Hey!” The clown suddenly said as he jumped up, “Buy a guy dinner first!”

I raised the Joker into the air and threw him onto his bed.

“Uh-oh. I didn’t know this was a lemon slashfic!” He laughed at his own joke.

“We have questions for you, Joker.” Nightwing said as he approached the clown.

Joker ignored both Nightwing and myself, and turned back to Clifton. “I sure hope you wore your Helmut when we...you know.” 

Clifton’s eyes widened in horror. He raised his stun gun and pointed it straight at the Joker.

“Why did you say that name? WHY DID YOU SAY THAT NAME?!” 

Nightwing came at Clifton from the side and threw him to the ground, disarming him in the process.

“How did you know my first name!” Clifton continued to scream.

The Joker blushed like a school girl and shrugged. “What can I say? I know a lot of things.”

“Calm down!” I ordered the screaming youth. He immediately hushed. I told him to leave us alone and take some time to cool off. 

“He knew my name, Batman!” The orderly protested, “No one knows my name except H.R.! How did he find out? Why did he find out!” 

“To get you to react exactly as you are now, so leave,” Nightwing said as he began to walk the orderly out of the room.

From the scowl on his face, I could tell that Helmut Clifton wasn’t interested in leaving. He relented nevertheless and allowed Nightwing to guide him out the door, closing it behind him. Internally, I breathed a sigh of relief. If he wanted, Clifton could have just told us to leave. If he’d done that, Nightwing and I would have to go through the trouble of sneaking back in again, and I didn’t want to waste any time doing that. I owed the young man my gratitude for letting us continue. 

“Well, well,” the Joker began, “We’re finally alone.” 

He leaned in close and whispered, “Brucey.”

I ignored his taunt and remained focused on the matter at hand.

“There was an attack on a fraternity house last night. Joker Venom was used, and now there’s a criminal taking credit. His motif has some similarities to your own.”

The Joker gasped, “I am appalled, Batman! While I have been known to don the Vaudeville shirt and straw hat, my style could hardly be compared to such offensive theatrics as a Jim Crow show!” 

“So you do know,” Nightwing said, stepping forward. “Tell us everything. Who is this clown?” 

“Why, I believe this rogue calls himself Minstrel, doesn’t he?” The Joker said with a demonic chuckle, “Or at least that’s what they said on the television.” 

“There’s no television in this room,” Nightwing said, glancing around the small cell to be sure. Indeed, the only things in the room were a bed, toilet/sink, and a card table in the far Northwest corner.

The Joker tapped his temple, “I meant the TV in my head, Sherlock! I keep the ol’ idiot box safe and sound right here.”

“A fitting place,” I commented. “What connection does Minstrel have with you?”

“I believe we’re both Tauruses and our mothers dreamed of fish before we were born.” 

Nightwing groaned in annoyance. Despite all his experience, he was still a little green, and he didn’t realize that Joker just admitted to knowing Minstrel well. 

“Why did you give him the Joker Venom?” I asked. “Did he pay for it? Or did he find and rob one of your storehouses?” 

The Joker turned his head, and I followed it to see a magazine page taped to the wall. Printed on the thin, glossy paper was the image of a window looking out to a thick blanket of leaves and vines. Rays of sunlight passed through the plants, creating slanted beams of warm light that almost felt real. 

“What a pretty day,” he remarked.

“Answer the question,” Nightwing snapped. 

The Joker turned to him again, “I already told you everything you needed to know, bird brat! If I just gave you all the answers, that would spoil the ending.” 

He jumped onto his bed and raised an impassioned fist into the air, “These people demand drama! Blood! Mystery! SEX! If we fail to supply, then they won’t vote for our story! Or even leave a Kudos!”

I didn’t respond. There was a question I wanted to ask the Joker, but I wanted to see if Nightwing figured it out first. I gave him a look, and my partner immediately recognized it as a signal to think deeper. His face relaxed as he took a deep breath in, but the relaxation didn’t last long. With the turn of the cogs within his brain, his face slowly began to twist and scrunch itself up as he concentrated harder. After a while, this strain disappeared, too, and a smile spread across his face.

“How old was Minstrel when you adopted him,” Nightwing asked.

Joker’s smile grew even wider as a glee I’d never seen him express took over his eyes. He sat back down on the bed and leaned so close to my face that it set off every alarm in my mind. The skin of his face was as pale and dry as a corpse’s, and his eyes as yellow as his teeth. Though is breath were oddly minty fresh, his body smelled heavily of charcoal. Had I not grown accustomed to being this close to the Joker before, I might have recoiled in shock and disgust. 

“My dear, darling nephew came to me when he was fifteen years old. Harley was so overjoyed; she’d always wanted a son or a little brother, dear Minstrel could be both. And he was Black! That’s really en vogue for adoption right now, you know?”

I didn’t say anything. Letting Joker talk was the best way to deal with him.

“Do you want to see a picture of him!” His scream was hysterically high, as if he were making a desperate demand rather than asking a question. 

He scurried on all fours like an animal to the other side of the room. Lifting a brick from it’s setting, he pulled out a bundle of papers from within the wall, then stood up and walked towards me with pride.

“Here,” he said as he thrust the bundle in my face, “my darling baby boy. I think.” 

I leafed through the pictures one by one. As anyone would expect, they looked like something a child would draw. They were all stick figures with large, circular heads and wide grins. Minstrel was drawn with brown crayon, where as Joker was drawn with a purple one. The activities they performed varied from murdering dogs to swimming at the beach. 

One picture in particular caught my eye. Joker, Minstrel, and what I assumed was Harley stood together with their arm-lines connected. Like a family holding hands. In the distance, there was a giant circus tent on fire with silhouettes running around frantically. 

Was this another one of Joker’s fantasies, or was he openly telling me that Minstrel was a circus child? It would definitely explain how the two met, but it didn’t bring me any closer to figuring out who he was. Joker didn’t usually travel far from Gotham, but that didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t have gone to any circus in the world and recruited a kindred sociopath. 

I made a mental note to look into circus disappearances later. There was still the matter of the Joker giving Minstrel access to the Venom. Clearly, Joker was suggesting he gave it to him because of his relationship with Minstrel. But that explanation alone didn’t tell me everything I wanted to know. Was Minstrel only acting under his “uncle’s” orders, or was his uncle the one playing second string this time? 

“If Minstrel was running around with you and Harley since he was fifteen,” Nightwing said, “How come we’ve never met him before?” 

Joker gasped and grabbed his chest, “Clutch the pearls! Do you seriously believe that I would send a CHILD into the field of our work before their training was complete? What kind of irresponsible sociopath do you think I am!”

Nightwing snickered. I glared at him. He stopped snickering.

“I do hope you enjoy him, Toy Wonder,” the Joker said, “I made him specifically to be a playmate to you. Once you took over from daddy here.” 

“We’ve heard enough.” I said.

“What? He told us nothing-”

“We’ve heard enough,” I said again. I gave Nightwing a look, and his protests ceased. There was little else we’d hear from Joker, at least that night. And even if we did hear more, I didn’t want that madman guiding our investigation. It was time for Nightwing and I to continue investigating on our own.

The Joker nodded vigorously and clapped his hands, “Good Batman! Now go! Solve the Mystery of the Minstrel with the clues I gave you! Go be the hero! Godspeed to you both!” 

He laughed all while we walked out of his cell. We could still hear him from the other side of the door once Clifton locked it again.

End Chapter 4