Method In The Madness

​AND SO THE DYNAMIC DUO RACE BACK TO THE BAT-CAVE, WHERE THE JOKER’S CLUES ARE PUT THROUGH NUMEROUS SCIENTIFIC TESTS…

“The Hyper-Spectrographic Analyzer isn’t finding anything unusual, Batman,” Robin says, removing the clue from the device. “It’s just an ordinary cardboard playing card.”

Batman paces behind the Boy Wonder, searching through every corner of his mind for the answer.

“Nothing the Joker does is ordinary,” he remarks in a tone perhaps a bit more harsh than necessary. Nevertheless, his gut tells him that time is running thin. Suddenly, an idea occurs to him.

“Give the card here,” he tells Robin, reaching out a gloved hand. Batman takes the card a few steps to the left to a device labeled ‘ELECTRIC ILLUMINATION RADIOACTIVATOR’.

Bred of Batman’s inventive genius, the Electric Illumination Radioactivator bombards any object inserted into it with ultraviolet rays, allowing the Dynamic Duo to see that which the naked human eye alone cannot. The Caped Crusader douses the card in Illuminating Bat-Spray, then slides open a small, heavily-reinforced window in the center of the machine and gently places the card inside. Batman shuts the card within the scientific tomb as Robin reaches toward the control panel. Before Robin’s index finger can find the ‘ON’ switch, Batman grabs his forearm.

“Hold it, chum! You’ve forgotten your safety goggles.” Batman hands his sidekick a pair of tinted safety glasses designed specifically for this apparatus.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

With his safety goggles in place and his eyes properly protected from the harmful ultraviolet radiation, the Boy Wonder flicks the Radioactivator ‘ON.’ Simultaneously, all light sources in the Bat-Cave are extinguished; every overhead lamp, each flashing button on the Bat-Computer, even the Giant Lighted Lucite Map of Gotham City is unlit. For a brief moment, the Dynamic Duo hunches over the machine in completely silent darkness.

Slowly, patiently, the Radioactivator powers up. A muffled, monotonous hum vibrates through the laboratory as it comes to life. Like some weird mechanical heartbeat, a deep purple light pulses out of the Radioactivator’s chamber. The detectives gaze down into the little window, their faces dyed a royal hue.

“Adjust frequency to three-five-zero N-M,” Batman instructs.

“Three hundred and fifty nanometers, roger.”

The Radioactivator’s hum climbs from Baritone to Soprano as Robin twists a black dial counterclockwise, turning the pulsating glow into a brighter violet. The light is now a luminous beam blasting straight out of the reinforced glass window like a busted fire hydrant.

“How peculiar…” Batman says, bringing his face farther into the purple shaft of light. He squints his eyes to focus on the glowing Joker card inside the apparatus. The colors of the illustrated clown are washed out by the ultraviolet light so all that is left is a monochromatic outline. Over the top of this outline, the chemicals in the Illuminating Bat-spray react with the invisible biological matter which all criminals unwittingly leave behind on everything they touch. Ovaloid groupings of luminous valleys and ridges catch Batman’s eye.

“There are three distinct fingerprints here.”

“From the Joker and his henchmen?” Robin wagers a guess.

“No. One of these belongs to Bruce Wayne.”

The Boy Wonder’s draw drops in freefall. He’s seen Batman do the impossible before, but still he has to ask, “You? How do you know?”

“I think I know my own fingerprint when I see it, Robin,” he replies. “It’s these other two I can’t make out. Initiate Image Data Printout.”

Robin presses his gloved thumb into a green button.

“Printout initiated.”

For a split second, the violet glow is replaced with an incandescent flash as the contraption scans the clue. With the simple DING of a bell, the Radioactivator prints out a data card with all the details the computer can assemble. After a final flick of Robin’s finger, the violet light dims, then dies out completely. One by one, the lights in the Bat-Cave return automatically as Robin removes his goggles and dutifully hands over the data card to Batman. Examining the card’s contents, a look of utter dread strikes the crime fighter’s eyes.

“What is it, Batman?”

“According to the computer, the other finger prints the Joker left on the card,” the Caped Crusader says carefully, “Belong to Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara.”

“I don’t get it, Batman. How did the Joker get your fingerprint onto a playing card?”

“I think the question of Why? is of a more pressing nature at the moment, Robin.”

“You think this is some kind of threat?”

“Undoubtedly, and yet, what possible gain could the Joker make from threatening these men?”

After a short moment of thought, the Boy Wonder snaps his gloved fingers.

“I’ve got it! Remember what the Joker wrote on that playing card? ‘Will the real Batman please stand up!’”

Comprehension floods Batman’s mind. How have I not seen this earlier? he asks himself. The Joker’s act of taking off his mask on camera could be much more than simple conceit, it was in itself a threat! And yet, could this really be all there is to it? The Joker commits his crimes to feed his demented sense of humor, but as hard Batman tries, he can’t see the punch line here.

“It makes perfect sense,” Robin continues with a palm punch, “That grinning bully has got to be planning to kidnap these men. The payoff: our secret identities!”

“I’m not so sure,” Batman rethinks the situation.

“Why not? It all adds up.”

“Yes, but almost too perfectly. It all seems a tad too simple. I – ”

The sound of a ringing telephone interrupts their train of thought. Batman hurries to pick up the receiver.

“It’s me, sir,” the Caped Crusader hears loyal butler Alfred say. “I couldn’t help but notice, as I was cleaning the television set, that there’s something terribly wrong with the reception of Channel Seven.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” our hero says with utmost patience, “But Robin and I are currently solving much bigger problems.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but I could have sworn I saw a certain (ahem!) clown’s face appear, for a brief moment…”

“I see,” Batman says, half to Alfred, half to his partner, “Robin and I will look into it.”

Without wasting time with a Good-Bye (and Alfred isn’t the least bit offended), Batman hangs up the phone and hurries to the color television built into their high-tech equipment, the Boy Wonder right beside him. White noise covers the screen with snow, compelling Robin to adjust the set. Before he can touch the dial, the image changes to a startling close-up of the Joker’s crooked smile.

“Good afternoon, citizens of Gotham! This is the Joker speaking via my Television Broadcast Interceptor, jest in time for your daily comedy hour! Say, did you hear about the short fortune teller who escaped prison? He’s now a small medium at large!” the villain chortles through the T.V. speaker.

Batman and Robin hurry to a control panel next to the television and fervently begin twisting dials, keeping a close eye on the screen.

“Dynamic Duo, are you out there? Don’t bother trying to trace this broadcast. I can assure you, my Anti-Tracking Device is already in place,” the fiend cackles as our heroes give a hesitant forfeit.

“You have four hours, Fatman,” the Joker taunts, pointing to his cheap wrist watch, “Four hours to tell the truth, reveal your secret identity to the world, and end your crime-fighting career!”

“What!” Robin shouts at the screen.

“Your theory is beginning to gain merit,” Batman concedes before turning back to the television.

“By now, I’m sure you and the Boy Wonder have discovered my comical clues. Yes, you know the stakes of my game. Act quickly, Crusader, or I’m afraid you might find that your friends are a bit cut up!”

The Duo gawks as their archenemy jerks his thumb at Cameraman Mark, who swiftly swivels his camera to the right. Henchman Heath takes center stage, humorlessly looming over a wooden box. In the poor lighting of the Joker’s hideout, Batman can just make out the lifeless head and feet of a mannequin, much like the one they found in Central Park, stiffly protruding from the ends of the casket.

Heath brandishes his weapon with a grunt: a battle axe of theatrical proportions. The size of it should make the axe unwieldy, but the muscular goon swings the blade over his head like it’s little more than a baseball bat. Heath brings the dull blade slamming down into the center of the box with a great THUD. Then, like Sigmund pulling the enchanted Gram sword from the Barnstokkr tree, Heath slides his blade out of the casket with as little effort as he had lodged it in.

Batman and Robin watch straight-faced as the top of the box pops open to reveal the lovely Jackie. The Joker’s gun moll swings her legs out over the side of the casket, proving she is totally unharmed by the trick. She blows a kiss to her audience, though her criminal charms do nothing to impress our heroes.

“Please excuse the pun, Batman. I’m sure you can see this is no laughing matter!” the arch criminal jokes, forcing the camera back onto himself. “I give you but four hours to surrender yourself into my gloriously shameless hands. Not a minute more. Meet my demands by six o’clock – or Gotham City will forever finger you as the villain!”

Batman flicks off the television in disgust as the Clown Prince of Crime convulses with laughter, baring his teeth for his television audience.

A furious Boy Wonder starts for the Bat-microscope, his brain racing for a way out.

“There’s got to be some clue to where he’s hiding. We can still stop him before he can – !” Robin is gently reined in by Batman’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s no use, chum. We’ve seen everything that card has to offer.”

“Didn’t he leave anything on the dummy?” Robin proposes.

“Negative. I already put it through the Systematic Compound Analyzer. It’s just a simple store window mannequin, made of industry-standard fiberglass. Gotham City has hundreds of shops full of dummies identical to this one.”

“So what do we do? Just wait for him to strike?” the Boy Wonder begs for an answer. It seems like the entire day they’ve been nothing but pawns in the Joker’s twisted game and he’ll be the first to admit that he’s getting tired of always being one step behind. Robin looks up into Batman’s face and sees none of his own anxiety. To the contrary, Robin knows that expression well. There’s a plan being plotted by that great mind – a trap to catch the Joker!

“Exactly!”