The Riddler Speaks - Casefile #0165

TRS - Casefile #0165 (Lockup's Lockdown Part 1)

HARVEY: What the fuck’s keepin’ him? It’s gonna be any minute now.

OSWALD: No idea. Hold on - is that him?

(Sound of running feet. EDWARD appears.)

OSWALD: What happened to you, dear boy? You look white as a sheet.

EDWARD: (out of breath) We have to leave. Now.

HARVEY: What the fu -

(Crackling of the PA system.)

SCARECROW: Good evening, Arkham Asylum.

HARVEY: Is that -

OSWALD: Quiet.

EDWARD: We have to -

OSWALD: I said quiet.

SCARECROW: Scarecrow welcomes you, one and all, to a night you will never forget.

HARVEY: Oh, fuck.

SCARECROW: Now, if you’re listening, Lyle Bolton… and I know you are. How ‘bout we play a game? Hide and Seek. First one found meets a most… frightening end.

OSWALD: Oh, dear.

SCARECROW: As for the rest of you - you best stay out of the way. Scarecrow never forgets a face.

BOLTON: So that’s his little game, is it? Fine. Now hear this! Jonathan Crane has officially become a security risk. Therefore -

EDWARD: No, no, no…!

BOLTON: CLOSE THE GATES! SHUT IT DOWN! ARKHAM ASYLUM IS ON LOCKDOWN.

(Alarms sound; gates slam shut.)

BOLTON: NO ONE GETS IN - NO ONE GETS OUT! GET ME JONATHAN CRANE!

HARVEY: What the hell, Nygma?

EDWARD: (angry) I TRIED to tell you! And now we’re STUCK in here!

OSWALD: Do you have something to do with this, Edward?

EDWARD: What? Why does everyone blame me? It - Bolton killed Ichabod. Jon lost all control; Scarecrow’s taken over, and now we’re all royally screwed!

HARVEY: Fucking Bolton. Piece of worthless shit. Trust him to fuck things up, and then fuck it up some more.

OSWALD: We’re trapped like rats in here. Well damned if I’m going to sit and wait and see who drops first; we need to formulate a plan of attack.

EDWARD: Attack on whom? Bolton, or Crane?

OSWALD: Whichever gets in the way.

HARVEY: First things first. Whatever we decide to do - you’re not comin’, Cobblepot.

OSWALD: Pardon me? You presume I’d rather sit upon my laurels, do you? That I’d rather be shielded like some gentle Gothamite in distress?

HARVEY: It’s not that. You’re the new mayor of Gotham. We can’t have you gettin’ hurt or killed in here.

EDWARD: He’s right, Oswald. You’re the one who has to get out of this alive; we need to hide you somewhere.

OSWALD: I concede that you have a point. Very well. Suggestions?

EDWARD: The guard station over there. You can lock yourself in.

HARVEY: There should also be some walkie-talkies in there - this place has no cell reception during a lockdown, but we’ll be able to stay in contact that way.

OSWALD: Very good - the guards have left to be with Bolton. You were right, Harvey: here are the radios. I’ll keep this one - you take this other one, Edward. Now. You know Crane best - what’s going to happen?

EDWARD: Nothing good.

HARVEY: That’s helpful.

EDWARD: Shove it.

OSWALD: I thought he was on medication?

EDWARD: He was. He’s supposed to be. It may have been losing its effectiveness. It was this Valentino mess; something about him seemed thinner. His grip was slipping. Scarecrow was too close to the surface.

OSWALD: Yes… That last Bolton incident was borderline sadistic.

EDWARD: (humourless laugh) Trust me; it’ll only get more sadistic.

OSWALD: He should have stayed in the hospital.

EDWARD: Yes, he should have - but then if he took care of himself, he wouldn’t be Jon.

HARVEY: So what are we supposed to do?

EDWARD: Stay out of his way. Scarecrow won’t stop until he gets to Bolton - and even then there’s no guarantee that he’ll stop at all.

HARVEY: Shit.

EDWARD: Yeah.

HARVEY: We need to shut down Crane, then.

EDWARD: Are you suggesting we kill him?

HARVEY: (shrug) Why not? Makes sense.

EDWARD: And kill him for what? Mental illness? You truly consider that to be the most logical course of action? How about we take a saw and split you down the middle to cure you? That’s logical, isn’t it?

HARVEY: Calm your shit, it’s just an idea.

EDWARD: Save the thinking for the more evolved among us, Cro-Magnon.

OSWALD: Let’s set that line of thinking aside for now. Could we perhaps convince Crane to regain control?

EDWARD: Not if he doesn’t want to be found. He’s hiding; it wasn’t a hostile takeover.

(POISON IVY appears.)

PAMELA: What’s going on?

EDWARD: Pamela. Out of solitary so soon?

PAMELA: Soon as I said I wouldn’t squeeze that Boomerang’s neck 'til his eyes popped out. Why are we on lockdown?

EDWARD: Bolton. Crane. Either, both, take your pick. It’s a heavyweight bout, and we’re all stuck in the middle.

PAMELA: Fabulous. Another bloody pissing contest. Don’t you know that lockdown shuts off the allegedly 'non-essential’ systems? The fluorescents that keep my plants alive are one of those. We have to get the power back on as soon as possible.

HARVEY: There are more important things going on here than your fuckin’ plants, Pamela.

PAMELA: Not to me, arsehole. Look - the boys need to put the rulers away and get their dicks back in their pants, pronto. So whatever you’re doing - I want to help it succeed.

HARVEY: What? You’re not going to be a part of this.

PAMELA: Oh the mean girls won’t let me sit with them? Boo hoo - and why the hell not?

HARVEY: Uhh… (gestures to his face) Look familiar? You’re the bitch who did this to our face.

PAMELA: I’d call it an improvement; it brought you out in the open. I did you a favour - you should be thanking me.

HARVEY: Oh, we’ll thank you, you bet we will. But we’re still not fuckin’ working with you, you treacherous shiksa.

PAMELA: Dearie me. How awful it must be to possess masculinity - it’s so fragile and pathetic.

EDWARD: Children, please…

HARVEY: Shut up, Nygma. Oswald - help us out here. We can’t work with her, or we’ll strangle her.

PAMELA: You lay so much as a fingertip on me and I’ll castrate you. Not that anyone would tell the difference; you’re a neutered guard dog already.

EDWARD: (grinning) Cerberus missing a head.

(HARVEY snarls.)

PAMELA: (chuckles) See?

HARVEY: Just choose! Or we’ll get out our damn coin and do the job ourselves!

OSWALD: This… requires consideration.