Joker called the police.
That was right. He practically scrambled over the sofa and ran to the telephone stand, using that battered old-fashioned phone to call the Gotham Police Department.
When Gordon arrived at Joker's house, Spider-Man had a knife in one hand and Joker pinned down with the other. Even the experienced Sheriff widened his eyes in shock and shouted at Spider-Man.
"Spider-Man, what are you doing? Are you trying to kill him?!"
Seeing the ring of police officers outside the door aiming guns at him, Spider-Man immediately let go, raised both hands, and said, "Hey, you've got it wrong. I just noticed he hadn't trimmed his stubble in a long time, but I couldn't find a razor in his house, so I had to make do with this knife."
Joker scrambled up from the floor in utter panic, charged toward the farthest wall, and slammed into it. Then he turned around, pressed both hands tightly against the wall, and pointed one finger at Spider-Man. "Take him away!!!"
Gordon lowered his gun, looked at Joker, looked at Spider-Man, then looked at Joker again. He let out a long sigh and said to Spider-Man, "Whatever you were trying to do, barging into someone else's home with a knife was wrong."
"But I didn't barge into his house carrying a knife. This knife was in the kitchen—"
"Enough. Listen, Spider-Man, come outside first. Did you ask Batman what he thought about this?"
Spider-Man set the knife on the nearby coffee table, followed Gordon outside, and said, "No, I didn't tell him. But I think he could probably guess."
Gordon glanced back at Spider-Man. On the surveillance monitor in the Batcave, it looked like Gordon was looking straight into the camera.
Gordon called Spider-Man outside and said, "Listen, kid, I know you