"There's no evidence that your friend is Minstrel," Batman said.

"It's him, Bruce, I can feel it." I replied.

Oracle cleared her throat, "Nightwing, I have to agree with Batman here. There's just nothing in this profile to suggest he'd do something like this."

"What is the exact profile for someone that would turn into the Joker?" Signal countered.

Batman grumbled, "You may have a point there, but we can't ignore the patterns that have arisen before. Joker's emulators tend to be young, disenfranchised men, often with a history of mental illness, psychological trauma, and criminality."

"James lost both of his parents and grew up in foster care," I reminded everyone.

The news was a surprise to me when I first heard it. Malcolm had always seemed like such a strong and healthy man. When Barbara told me that he died of a heart attack, I could hardly believe it. It made me wonder about his life, the things that boys never noticed about the adults around them. Was he really so strong and powerful, or did he just appear that way to me?

Hearing about James' mother, though, was far worse. Barbara managed to find out that Jessica Byrd died from complications related to childbirth. She had to be operated on to safely birth James and wound up bleeding out faster than the doctors could treat her. An investigation and lengthy lawsuit later, James Byrd wound up with a trust fund worth $100,000 that would activate when he was 18. James would be able to go to college or buy a house, and it only cost him his mother. Learning this didn't surprise me too much, I figured that James's mom was dead, and his dad mentioned to mine that he had some money set aside for him. But it still felt odd to have the full details laid out for me.

In a way, James and Malcom were always invisible to me. I think we as people have a bad habit of trying to create other people; we take the people we know and choose to understand them in contexts that we relate and connect with. Learning the specifics of James' history destroyed the image of him I'd kept in the back of my mind. He couldn't just be what I interpreted anymore. I was reminded that he was a real person with a real story, and that story was sad. It left me to wonder how differently things might have gone if I had been around to help him deal with the loneliness and grief. Maybe my experience dealing with those same demons could have helped him.

"Yes, but then he went on to college, got decent grades, and found a job at the DA's office." Oracle pushed back.

"Harvey Dent was the DA," Signal said.

"Whose side are you on here, exactly?" Red Robin asked.

I assume that Signal shrugged, "I don't have any horses in this race, man. I'm just trying to get us all to be real here. We can't use a psych profile to guess who will or won't become a criminal like Joker. Copycats are one thing, but Arkham is full of criminals that break every established profile we've got to work with. "

"Signal's right," I said with a nod and a sigh, "James isn't disenfranchised in the same way a lot of other Joker copycats are, but that doesn't mean it's impossible that he's Minstrel, either. I'm going to continue my investigation."

"We're sitting on a powder keg here; we need you in the field." Batman pushed.

"I am in the field!" I said, defensively. Then I grimaced a bit, "I mean, I'm in the outfield at least."

"You're a mile away from all the protestors," Oracle mentioned.

"If my hunch is right, and James is Minstrel, then I'm at the perfect place. There's no way he's missing his chance to make a move on this protest, it's just too big."

"Still can't believe that cop got off," Signal muttered.

"This is Gotham, after all," Red Robin reminded him.

"All this gossiping is giving me a headache! Let's just get started already." Red Hood cried into his coms.

"If there's a fray, I can easily get to the protest and help. But so far, James Byrd is the best lead we have on Minstrel's identity. So I'm going to see this through." I hoped that reminding everyone of those simple facts would work in my favor.

"Fair enough." Batman finally said after a moment of anxious silence, "Everyone remain on guard. For those of you that are still on your way, report in once you've taken position."

"Okay but we're really not going to comment on the fact that Nightwing unironically used the word 'fray,'" Tim asked, stifling a laugh.

I ignored him and focused on the task at hand. I turned the volume down on my comms so they couldn't distract me. Raising my scopes back to my eyes, I continued my observation of James in the building across from me.

James Byrd was a diligent worker, the kind that preferred to stay behind after hours preparing for the next day. As he worked, there was a subtle fire of passion burning in his eyes, and a serious tightness to his otherwise round jaw, as if whatever he was working on were the most important thing in the world. I was happy to see that determination in him, it made me glad to see that James had found himself something to be passionate about.

I thought about what I'd read in Oracle's report; how James Byrd first attended a small college out in the Midwest before he transferred to Gotham University. I wondered what James was like in his college days. Was he more of a nerd, or a jock? His grades were good, but not extremely good, so I imagined that maybe he was just studious enough. I found myself imagining a world where we rekindled our friendship while he was in college. Would that even be possible? Putting aside my hectic life as Nightwing, I wondered if he would even want me as a friend. From his perspective, I left him and everyone in the circus for the life of a billionaire's heir, and I couldn't have even been bothered to contact him once I left.

I didn't know if James was Minstrel. Though I was territorial and made a big deal of being the one to investigate him, I secretly hoped my suspicions were wrong. Maybe Minstrel was another Black kid that grew up in a circus. Maybe the joke he made about my name was just a coincidence. Maybe it wasn't too late for me and James to reconnect after all. If James wasn't Minstrel, maybe I could finally right my wrongs.

Of course, I wouldn't blame myself for James becoming Minstrel. Ultimately, our choices are our own; and while I'm certain that someone, somewhere hurt him so much that he began to believe the only thing he could do was hurt others in return, I don't think that means he had any less of a choice to become Minstrel. Nor does that mean that I should feel responsible. Still, I wondered what kind of hurt he could have gone through, and what I could have possibly done to help him deal with it. Could I have helped James and stopped him from becoming Minstrel? Could I still help him and get him to turn his back on that life before it was too late?

I sighed, finally understanding why Bruce struggled so much with Joker.

Batman's voice over my comm links violently dragged me out of my thoughts. I realized that I'd been watching James for 20 minutes, and in all that time he hadn't made a single suspicious move.

"Everyone converge on Signal's position!" Batman said, "We have confirmation that Minstrel was in the area."

"Don't tell me he's the one that caused this riot. I thought Dick was sitting on Minstrel!" Red Hood shouted.

I bit the inside of my cheek angrily. "I guess I was wrong. It's not James."

"I'm sorry everyone," Signal said, an unusual heaviness hanging in his voice.

"Why are you apologizing?" I asked. I didn't hear his answer, and I didn't care. I rushed to my bike and sped towards his location. I was done wasting time chasing ghosts.

End Chapter 10