"For the last time, Commissioner. We are not here to discuss the prisoner's state of mind !" Judge Wessel looked across at Gordon from the parole board panel, a look Jim had seen dozen times this morning. Please, Wessel's watery eyes were saying, don't make this harder than it is.
Gordon shot a more succinct look back. To his left the prisoner started talking.
Again.
"Come now, your honour. As slanderous as the commissioner's comments are, he's only expressing his frustration at the farcical nature of this so-called legal proceeding. Perhaps he doesn't understand that his presence is merely for appearance's sake. You are decorative, detective," Riddler concluded, flashing Jim a smug smile.
Gordon understood alright. Thousands of prisoners, all held illegally, and then nearly murdered by Hugo Strange. The inevitable class-action lawsuit had left this tedious, soul-sapping exercise in its wake : hundreds of "parole hearings" that only went one way. The prisoner got their freedom back and Gordon got a signed declaration that the offender promised to be on their best behaviour from here on in.
"Now," Riddler continued. "Given that our poor commissioner must endure several hundred more of these hearings, why don't you spare us the tedium of forcing him to reiterate the state's legally soiled case against me, and simply grant me the freedom to which I'm entitled?"
The entire parole board spluttered indignantly.
"Man's got a point," Gordon conceded, as he walked out the door.
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