Any kind of movement through Arkham is always such a joy. Shackles, chains, that upright gurney...thing, and stupid little entourage of guards. Harv's mostly resigned to the bullshit; he settles back in the gurney and asks the guards how their kids are.

It goes over about as well as one would expect.

"I was just asking, Jesus," Harv mutters quietly once things have quieted down. The rest of the trip through the penitentiary is silent, save for the squeaking gurney wheel and the rattle of the chains.

He patiently puts up with the procedures to get him in the interview room - there's always so many - before letting himself get lead in, flanked on both sides by guards. Whoever it is he's stuck with is already there, thankfully. A small-ish looking redhead with her back to the door.

...Wait. He pauses and squints. That's got to be Crane's secretary.

His hesitation earns him a jab in the back from a billy club. He grunts and stumbles forward, turning sharply to glare at the guard before going to settle across the table in the empty seat.

Well. Crane's secretary is pretty. He failed to mention that.

"Mornin'," Harv growls, twisting the cuffs on his wrists until they're a little more tolerable.