The Schemer

Burn It Down

"Invictus by William Ernest Henley, an English poem written in eighteen seventy-five. Only a few lines. You might have read it before when you broke into my library, therefore you were able to recognize the last two lines of it."

"Mus-t be." Jack returned back to staring into the depths of trees. Clara noticed a small bird - a woodpecker - next to its thick trunk, looking for food probably. The creature kept Joker's attention focused on itself, and like a predator, he followed his slow, yet precise movements. "Ira."

"Hmm?" The woman turned to him, waiting for further words.

"We have, uh, stuff to do today."

"What stuff?"

"Stuffy stuff. We are, uh, burning down the Gotham General Hospital." He didn't see the surgeon's eyes widening, an almost pained expression making its way on her pale complexion, only for a moment. Next second, nobody could have guessed that Joker's statement affected the woman anyhow. Yet, the silence was enough for him to know her state, her reaction.

"Why?"

"Dent. Harvey Dent is in there. Not lookin' tha-t good anymore. Grieving for his dead soon-to-be spouse. Needin' a little push." Clara didn't say anything, so the man continued. "Yesterday, before our, uh, intimate interaction, I've burned a pile of money. Happened so tha-t Mr Lau was on top. But before, he said, uh, interesting things. Ya see, Dent is no-t happy. There have been some misunderstandings between him and Commissioner Gordon. Turns out, Harvey-boy has been telling truth all the time, and now Commissioner is confused. Has no idea who to trus-t."

"The truth?"

"Yeah. The truth that it was you who did some bad things. Under my influence, of course. You see, your true identity was just a useful substitute for your real crimes, which the boy kept pointing out. Gordon wanted to prove him wrong. Not anymore, toots." The man licked his lips, caressing the small scar on the lower one. "The boy hates ya, and he hates me, but mostly, he's blaming Commissioner for not listening, and therefore, in his eyes, Gordon is responsible for the girlie's death." 

Ouch. Funny, how quickly things could turn around, and the hero becomes the enemy. "And where are you going with this?"

"It's interesting, little assassin, how the human brain works. Dent is not blaming you, because you were under my influence, and he probably does not blame me, because... Well, he just doesn't. The human ego is still in there, tempting and encouraging his hatred for the one who doubted him, the great Gotham's White Knight. The trouble was caused because nobody listened to him. Are ya following me, toots?"

"For now, yes. Still, why do you need to blow up the hospital?" The man turned his dark gaze towards her. The bird was absent. 

"To send a message. An-d a symbol. Y'know, fire cleanses." 

"A symbol of cleanliness? Are you serious?" It had to be a symbol of chaos if anything. Not cleansing. Definitely not cleansing.

"I am." With disbelieving eyes, Clara watched the man stand up, extending his arm for the woman. She slowly took his warm hand, allowing to be lifted from the ground. They both stood at a similar height, Jack only a few inches taller. Two metaphorical giants, too tiny to actually make any sense in this enormous, absurd-laced world. "Soon ya will understand. For now, just follow my lead. There are some, uh, things that I will need you to do. I really hope those creations of yours will work." He gave her a malicious grin, the one she was so familiar with, the same grin that she happened to almost enjoy seeing on the man's face.