*J* (the continuation)

Part Forty-Four: Chapter 325: Mistaken Identity

Julia Paradise's POV

What the hell was I doing? Investigating the Joker was an insane thing to be doing. I was probably only going to end up getting myself killed. That's what happens to almost everyone who takes up the task. That's how the Joker stayed untouchable. He killed anyone who got too close...

I got too close once...

When I was a rookie detective, I was handed down a case from a detective who was retiring. It wasn't a big deal, just some missing person case. Thirty year old Caucasian male. Just some tailor with a wife and four kids. Wife filed a missing persons case after he didn't come home from work. The wife went to the shop he owned and found it empty and everything left as if he left without closing down for the day. Oddly enough, the cash register was untouched and holding the proper amount of cash to correspond with the till.

A forensics team swept the shop, but didn't find any hair, prints, or trace evidence that shouldn't have been there. So then people who worked and lived nearby were questioned. One person came forward. They claimed to have seen the man dragged out the side door and shoved into a van. But the very next day the person recanted their statement. So the case went cold.

That's when it fell onto my desk. I was determined to solve that case. I just couldn't not solve my very first case. So I started by looking into the man's personal life. He was a good man. Devoted to his wife and children. Many friends sang his praises. So I began investigating his business affairs. His books were spotless. He didn't owe any money.

I ran across an appointment book. I started at the top of the day he went missing. I tracked them down, one by one. They all had sound alibies. Then I came across an appointment at 3:00 pm with a client who was only referenced to as "J". For a while I couldn't wrap my head around why he would meticulously list all other customers by a first and last name, but this one only a J. He had no need to keep secrets. So who was this mystery customer?

So I studied the photos that the forensics team took of the man's shop. There were dozens of them. I must have thumbed through them just as many times. Then I started to inspect them with a magnifying glass. My gut just kept telling me that I was missing something.

That's when I saw what the man had been working on. In the background, on a mannequin was a man's suit jacket. Solid black. But when I looked through a magnifying glass, I saw jester heads on the gold buttons. And there was only one man in Gotham who would ever have jesters on his buttons. The Joker.

I ended up having to use my own money to pay off a dirty cop for information on the Joker's whereabouts. Honestly, I didn't really expect the dirty cop to rat out the Joker. Infact, I was pretty sure he was trying to set me up. I figured that when I went to investigate that I'd walk right into a trap.

I wasn't entirely wrong...

I went to the address I got from the cop. It was some warehouse in the Narrows. The place just looked dangerous. So I pulled out my gun. I proceeded very cautiously as I quietly made my way into the warehouse. The smell of blood was the first thing I noticed. That rich metallic scent. And then I came across a horror scene that not even Hollywood could reproduce.

I found the Joker hovered over a man's bloody body. He had a saw in his hand and he was dismembering this man. He was at least halfway done. I remember gagging at the sight. Somehow the Joker heard me over the crunching of the saw blade across bone. He quickly turns his head my direction. I tell him to freeze and step away from the body.

A wide smirk comes to his blood splattered face. He says to me, "Ah, my audience. Have a seat." The next thing I know, I'm being grabbed from behind and my gun is taken. Then I'm forced down into a chair and tied to it. I cringe at the sound being created by the saw and bone.