"Zatara Circus has officially arrived in Gotham and will hold its first grand performance tomorrow night!"
The television at the Gotham Police Department was airing a live report. Gordon stood beside his desk with a cup of coffee, watching the screen.
"James!" A short-haired policewoman strode in briskly and tossed a stack of flyers onto the desk.
"Barbara invited both of us to see the circus performance. Why didn't you tell me?"
Gordon hurriedly turned around. This was his second wife, Sarah Essen, captain of Homicide Division Squad Two—a policewoman who could eat breakfast without changing expression while facing a corpse pulverized into mush.
"I saw that you were busy, so I set the invitation aside. It doesn't start until tomorrow night. There's no need to rush." Gordon smiled.
"Oh my God, I must have been so busy I lost track." Sarah raised a hand to her forehead, looking stunned as she remembered today's date.
"You worked all night again?" Gordon put an arm around Sarah's shoulders and drew her close. In truth, he had not gone home last night either; he had slept in his office.
He was waiting for a report—the Joker's psychiatric evaluation. Though he had little hope for it, Gordon still wanted to throw the Joker into court and have him stand trial, perhaps even face the death penalty.
Rather than send him to Arkham Asylum for life.
"It's still the Joker. Damn it, another batch of Joker Gang thugs has popped up. We went to three scenes last night. Seven people were killed, including a Mafia boss."
Sarah shook her head helplessly and leaned into Gordon's embrace, seeking a brief moment of warmth. She and Gordon were the same kind of people: they put work first.
But their diligence and seriousness at work made them