"Master Bruce, you really should have something to eat. You haven't slept for days, you must keep your strength up," Alfred says as he watches Bruce running the ballistics on the gun he found near the Joker's body.
"This isn't the Joker's gun," Bruce utters ignoring his plea. "Nor is it Jason's. It's not Harley's or Jester's either because they used guns that had belonged to Joker. This gun has zero markings to associate it to the Joker at all."
It had taken Bruce three months to overcome his grief enough to investigate the Joker's death. He was too distraught to think clearly that night in the Fun House in Amusement Mile. In his grief he didn't think get blood samples. He didn't think to take pictures. This gun was the only thing he thought to take.
But he noted that the Joker's gun was missing from the harness on his body when he loaded it into the back of the car Alexis was driving. His assumption is that Jason was now in possession of the Joker's gun. It was afterall, a trademark of sorts to J. Many people knew and recognized that gun. So it made sense for it to now be in a harness on Jason. But whose gun was this that had taken the Joker's life? And who pulled the trigger?
Bruce sighs as he stares at the computer screen, "This is definitely Joker's blood all over the gun. And his blood has erased most of the DNA traces of whoever it belonged to."
"Well sir," Alfred watches, "his blood is an acid, it only stands to reason that it interferes with simple DNA traces."
The female voice of the bat computer can be heard, "Partial fingerprint detected."
Bruce sits up straighter, "Scan print." The computer does and displays a big picture of it on the screen. "Jason doesn't have fingerprints. Nor does anyone else with the chemicals in them," Bruce mumbles more to himself than to Alfred. "Computer, check databases for a match."
It takes a few minutes but eventually Bruce and Alfred hear the computer say, "Match found." And on the screen appears a picture of Julia Paradise.
"Julia Paradise," Bruce says staring at the screen.
Alfred reads over the information, "A former police officer for the GCPD turned private investigator. Interesting. I wonder what her connection to all this is?" He turns to Bruce, but his chair is empty. He looks up to see Bruce who's already half suited up in his bat suit.
"I don't know, but I know exactly who to ask," Bruce says in a hurry.
"Sir you're really in no condition to storm the Joker's lair. Need I remind you that Jason's number of men is far greater than what the Joker's we're," Alfred says, almost sounding more like a scolding father.
"If Jason wanted me dead, I already would be," Bruce says as he gets into the Batmobile.
"Master Bruce, as I've said to you a dozen times, you underestimate Jason. You always have and you always will," Alfred calls out, unsure if Bruce can even hear him as he pulls the suicide door shut and cranks the Batmobile.
************************
Jason and Harley sit on the couch in their penthouse, cuddled up together and enjoying a little free time after having put Lucy to bed for the night. The television plays in the background, but the pair could only seem to pay attention to one another.
That is until the single paned window that served as the northern wall of the apartment shattered into a million pieces and rained down on them.
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