Riddler (Part One)

Screech!

The policewoman beside Gordon inserted the USB drive into the computer.

"It's already reading... It'll be ready in a moment. We slowed it down... We're going through it frame by frame."

"Here it comes."

Gordon sat in the raised seat at the Gotham Police Department and adjusted his glasses.

"This happened a few hours ago. That was John Peterson, the victim in this murder case. There."

The screen gradually lit up. The black-and-white footage, blurry and intermittently disrupted by signal interference, had the absurdity and horror of a silent film.

"Our victim usually took the subway home, but that day he decided to take a cab."

"Now look to the left."

Jim Gordon narrowed his eyes.

"That's Riddler. By the time the camera caught him, he'd already drawn his gun. See it? In his left hand. I remember Riddler isn't left-handed."

"Actually, everything happened in the blink of an eye. There was no hesitation... or any other movement."

The policewoman's voice rang out. "It's impossible to tell whether he said anything—we examined it carefully, and his lips don't seem to have moved either. So based on what we know, we've concluded that he didn't say anything."

Gordon had already guessed what would happen next, but he found it hard to believe.

"This is the moment he opened fire."

Chief Gordon pursed his lips.

He saw Riddler raise the pistol toward the back of the innocent victim's head.

Bang!

The gunshot seemed to explode beside Jim Gordon's ear, even though the surveillance footage contained not a trace of sound, silent as a gravestone.

"One shot to the head. Killed instantly. The crowd began to panic and flee from the source of the noise," the policewoman said. "Riddler lowered his gun. He didn't aim at or attack anyone else."

"The crowd continued fleeing in panic. He threw the gun beside the victim's body and didn't touch it again before we arrived at the scene."

"Extremely calm. No screaming or anything similar. Very professional. Up to this point... he hadn't said a word."

"This was the first patrol car to arrive in a hurry. We happened to have an officer named Sean half a block away. He got out of the car... and shouted at Riddler."

"He heard him," Gordon said. "Without a doubt."

"That's the complete record of Riddler's murder of John Peterson in broad daylight."

Chief Gordon watched as Riddler turned toward the camera and pulled a card bearing Batman's symbol from inside his coat. He smiled faintly, then said—"

"Where is he?"

Interrogation room.

The desk lamp was switched on. Riddler tilted his head slightly, avoiding the harsh light.

Chief Gordon sat down opposite Riddler.

"He won't come. Edward isn't worth wasting his time on."

"Do you know the oldest riddle? From ancient Sumer, roughly four thousand years ago."

He slightly raised the hand with the handcuff:

"I'm everywhere, but I can't be seen. I often manage to escape by chance, but I'm never spared. I'll find you at the crossroads, and even chase you to the next street corner. What am I?"

"Death."

"I can be broken, spoken, made, and played with. What am I?"

"I don't have time to play riddles with you."

Chief Gordon cut him off. "Nigma. You shot poor John Peterson in the head in broad daylight, then waited for the police to arrive."

"Did you have a reason? Did he owe you money? Did you owe him money? Did you lose to him at poker or something? Maybe he slept with your girlfriend—"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"The answer is a joke."

"So... regarding the girlfriend, does that mean no?"

"Don't you like jokes?" Riddler asked.

He smiled gently, shy as a student answering a teacher's question in school. Even his eyes seemed to hold a clear, foolish innocence.

"Then how about you guess another one?"

"How did Joker know Xiaoba would be home that day? How did he know where you lived? How did he get through your security system? We both know him. He's a strange guy—crazy and complicated, but not good at making plans."

"..."

Riddler made a phone-call gesture and acted out his conversation with Joker:

"Hey~ dear Ed~ How's the plan going? I want to pull off a 'bad day,' but I have no idea where to start."

"Well, Jack—how about starting with the commissioner and his daughter? I've already planned everything out, but it's too simple. I'm getting bored. Sing me a song, and I'll give it to you."

"Wow, that would be perfect, Ed. Listen, I'll throw in a free dance too."

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

Riddler spoke casually, and a girl's fate was maliciously smeared just like a blotch of ink-black paint on a wall.

Gordon slowly clenched his fists.

He repeatedly reminded himself that Riddler was only trying to provoke him.

He couldn't let the other man manipulate his emotions so easily. That meant completely surrendering the initiative and losing control of his mind—when facing Riddler, it was an extremely dangerous condi—"

"You *##%%@#* bastard—how dare you?" Gordon suddenly sprang from his seat and seized Riddler by the throat. "You actually *##%%@#* in front of me!"

But the next second, Gordon forcibly restrained himself and stopped venting his rage.

"Cough, cough, cough, cough!" Riddler hacked violently behind him. "Are you all right, Gorduo? You don't look very happy."

"Oh, no... Has everyone found out about Sergeant Sarah? How did you... You know, *##%%@#* her, then force her to transfer?"

"Was that so you could hide your affair from your pregnant wife?"

"She was your subordinate, buddy. She used to have a career of her own, and then... well, we both know what happened next, don't we? Poor woman."

Jim Gordon calmed down. Anger gradually gave way to shame. Just as he was about to sink into it, he suddenly realized that in front of Riddler, his emotions were like porcelain, easily molded at will.

So he turned around and stopped facing his prisoner.

But none of this was normal. For so many years, every time Riddler committed a crime, he had left a riddle at the scene.

A passionate murder without a puzzle? That went against Riddler's criminal pattern. Edward Nigma should have looked down on such low-grade crime more than anyone.

Gordon had a vague feeling that something was wrong. Riddler... seemed to no longer be the Riddler he had once been.

But regardless, he had been caught now.

Gordon said, "You'll be transferred to the rebuilt Arkham Asylum. You can wait there. Perhaps Batman will have time to interrogate you."

He looked at Riddler, whose grim smile was reflected in his pupils.

"Do you believe that?"

He heard Edward Nygma say, "Escaping the cage... only takes twenty seconds."