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Vicki glanced over at Bruce. He looked startled for the first time since the Joker had broken in. Vicki
followed his gaze.
There was something on the kitchen counter a high-tech belt of some kind. Vicki had seen a belt
like that before. She looked back at the Joker. He was too involved in his own performance to notice
anything else.
Vicki, he wailed, don t let my happy-go-lucky appearance fool you. I m really very upset. You
were dining with me! Talking art! I was a man who was getting somewhere with a beautiful woman.
And then all of a sudden without a word of apology, you take off with that . . . sideshow phony!
He took a step toward her, hands clutched over his heart as he spoke in verse:
I m only laughing on the outside,
My smile is skin deep.
If you could see inside I m really crying;
You might join me for a weep.
He cupped a hand around Vicki s chin.
Bruce charged toward them.
The fists of one of the gang members got in Bruce s way. Bruce staggered back, sprawling across the
counter before he collapsed in the corner.
The Joker pointed his gun at Bruce.
No! Vicki had to do something.
He pulled the trigger.
A red-and-yellow flag popped out of the gun.
Bang! the flag read.
The Joker s men thought that was really funny. Bruce cowered in the corner. Vicki realized she must
have been wrong about the belt.
The Joker took her arm.
Come on. I want you to shoot some snaps. Make me immortal. He tugged her toward the door.
It ll be good for you.
One of the gang handed Vicki her camera bag and jacket.
Someone screamed outside the window. Vicki looked down to the street below. A police cruiser had
run up onto the sidewalk. Two policemen staggered from the car, clutching at their throats. A woman
below screamed again and ran away.
Vicki knew the cause of this. She turned back to the Joker.
What s wrong with those policemen?
The Joker considered her question as he, too, glanced out the window.
Looks like they re rethinking their spot in the social order.
A pair of the Joker s henchmen propelled Vicki from the kitchen. She heard the door slam behind her.
She craned her neck around to see what had happened as they hustled her from the apartment.
The Joker hadn t followed his gang. Instead, he had closed the door. He was in there, alone, with
Bruce.
They had all turned away! He quickly scuttled across the floor, stuffing his utility belt back in his
shoulder pack.
There were footsteps. He looked up. The Joker s obscene smile shone down upon him.
Listen, Bruce, the Joker said in a confidential tone. Never rub another man s rhubarb! Get me?
He aimed his gun at Bruce s chest and pulled the trigger.
This time, the bullet was real.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Life was full of its little ups and downs.
The press did have this thing about the Batman. And Batman had stolen Vicki Vale from right under
the Joker s pale white nose. But now he had Vicki back again, just the way he wanted. And he had
managed to bump off one of her suitors in the bargain, although that Bruce Wayne was an awfully easy
kill. Didn t the man have any fight in him? Still, it was reasonably satisfying, the way the force of the
bullet threw Wayne against the wall. The Joker had to admit it. He so enjoyed a violent death.
He left the apartment, careful to close the door behind him, and hurried down the stairs. The boys had
already gotten Vicki into the van. The Joker leapt in after them.
Gotham Square! he cheered. Lickety-split!
It was amazing how good a killing could make you feel. The Joker guffawed. From now on, there
would be no more downs. Only ups for all of Gotham City.
Bruce blinked. He had passed out there for a minute. The force of the bullet must have knocked him
cold.
He sat up and examined his side. There was no blood, and no bullet hole. He picked up his shoulder
bag. There it was a new hole, two inches from the zipper. The bullet must have gone through here.
He opened his bag.
The bullet had hit the utility belt, embedding itself into the ultrasound scanner. The scanner was
ruined, but he had a couple of replacements back at the Batcave. It had done more than its intended job.
Thanks to the scanner, he was still alive.
He was still alive. The Joker s bullet hitting the utility belt more than that, the exact right spot on
the utility belt some people would think that was incredible luck. But he liked to think of it as justice.
His hands moved along the utility belt until he reached the digital pad. His fingers quickly punched
the number. Red lights flashed, followed by a beep. The connection was made. But he couldn t wait,
even for that.
He got to his feet. He couldn t start after the Joker like this. But where would Vicki keep something
he could use? He ran into the bedroom and riffled quickly through the closet shelves. Nothing was
opaque enough, until he found the black ski mask. It would have to do.
He left Vicki s apartment and headed for the roof.
The van was going too fast, even for him. How could you be suave and sophisticated around a beautiful
woman when you kept bouncing out of your seat?
He reached forward and grabbed Bob s shoulder good old Bob and yelled in his ear.
Slow down, you maniac!
Good old Bob seemed to be losing it. The Joker could feel it too. It was getting weird here in the
metropolis. Heck, the last time he looked out the back window, he could have sworn he saw a guy in a
suit and black ski mask swooping over the intersection on a rope. Was Gotham City going crazy?
The Joker certainly hoped so.
Bob slowed the van to a respectable forty or fifty miles an hour good old Bob a quite reasonable
rate to traverse Gotham traffic. It finally gave the Joker a chance to place one of his very refined hands
on one of Miss Vale s delicate kneecaps. She tried to move away, but the van was too cramped for her to
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