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This is a momentous day in Gotham. But Alex Knox doesn't know that. He knows that it's a sad day. CIRCUS TRAGEDY is spelled out in big letters on the front page of all the papers. Three dead, one teenaged boy left all alone. Sad, and (given Gotham) probably suspicious.

But as for how Dick Grayson is and who he might be, that is something Knox can't know.

Come say hi.

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"Metropolis?" Renee offers. "I hear they have all that and a cape that actually smiles occasionally."

"Too clean. Too shiny. Too bland. And sure, everyone loves the big red S. But he's dull." Also, Lane gets all the good stories and always will. "I hear Central's nice, though. All kinds of crazy costumes and names to go with the Flash." His Gotham hasn't managed to develop the number of villains most others have.

"Yes," Renee says dryly, but smirking. "Nothing like a having a fun and exciting variety of ways for people to kill you."

"A fun and exciting variety of people to write about. And everyone loves a hero beats villain story. It's what sells papers." The most copies of his old paper that had been sold since JFK's death came the morning after Batman killed the Joker.

"As long as you can stay out of being the story," Renee allows.

"I try, don't worry about that.

"Well, except that one time. But that was it." He smiles cryptically.

"What time?"

She asks directly. Got to ask the question, right?

Like he didn't want her to ask.

"When the Joker and his men went on their insane night out, I tried to defend a friend with a bat. A baseball bat. That didn't go so well.

"And someone included my name on the list of the wounded the next day. Since then, I am happy to let the professionals play footsy with the mobs."

"You say 'insane night out' like it's singular."

"Yeah, we got lucky. Joker was dead. And stayed that way. Not that I don't still think his body wasn't stolen from the morgue. But he's never come back." Dead means dead, as far as anyone can tell.

"I get the sense from some things I've heard here that not every Gotham is so lucky."

"That's good," Renee says. "For you guys, at least. Did he rack up a large death toll in that night?"

"Around 40 or 50. He threw a parade, since the city cancelled the bicentennial bash. And promised to give out free money. Which he did. Phoney money.

"And then came the smilex gas. Fortunately, Batman swooped in in his crazy jet and...well, I'm not sure what he did, but the gas went elsewhere." Out to sea? Nah, then you'd get Joker fish or something. "Too late for some, though. And a lot of us took a whiff or two of the gas."

Renee winces, and tries not to act like 40 or 50 is a small number. It's not, for one night. But for the Joker's entire career?

Yeah.

"It's not good stuff, even at low dosage."

"Yeah, I know it. And I think that there were side effects. Lots of people in Gotham who aren't entirely with it from time to time. Like the whole town is just a little crazy." Pause. "Crazier."

Renee considers this.

"You mean the supervillains?"

"A little bit, though we don't seem to be getting that many yet. More..." He finds some words. "More that Gotham just seems a bit odder some days. Restless.

"Like a lot of us don't sleep well. And laugh at the strangest moments. And trust a guy dressed in a leather bat-suit more than we trust God."

"Well, that bat-suit is very inspiring," Renee admits wryly.

She's had her faith in both tried in the past. For the most part, it's come through.

"Do I want to know what the Joker's like in your Gotham?" He probably should not be asking.

"No."

He probably doesn't. Or at least, Renee doesn't want to talk about it.

"He's killed a good many of my friends. But so has Two-Face, and the Scarecrow and Mr. Freeze."

"We don't have the last two." Yet? "Two-Face...he's been a killer but selectively so far. That whole coin flip thing is apparently true.

"But I'm sorry about your friends. Can't be easy to be a cop with that kind of thing going on." His Gotham has been lucky in that way so far. Though an average of eight cops are killed every year just by run of the mill criminals.

"Victor Fries and Jonathan Crane," Renee says. "Look out for the names."

Not that they're definitely going to be villains, but forewarned, as they say, is forearmed.

She doesn't want to talk about her friends.

"Fries? Strange little man with a German accent?" Uh oh.

"Cryogenics specialist?"

That wasn't a good tone she heard in his voice.

"Yeah. I talked to him a few years ago. When Luthor did his blizzard stunt." Seems like a lifetime since that happened.

"Which blizzard stunt was that?"