This time, the interrogation room had changed again. Cold iron bars had appeared for the first time, separating the interrogator from the person being interrogated. The chairs were no longer so comfortable, and the iron rings for securing handcuffs and shackles gleamed coldly beneath the lights.
Yet like the other rooms, this place remained dimly lit. Only a small square window above the chair let in a sliver of moonlight. When Bruce entered, Schiller's gray eyes, whose pupils were nearly invisible, seemed somewhat gentler beneath that icy moonlight.
Bruce walked up to the bars but did not sit down. He turned to look at the Agent who had escorted him in.
The Agent nodded and said, "Mr. Wayne, for your safety, please do not get too close to the suspect. No matter what he says, you must not put any part of your body through the bars. You must not touch the lock on the door, nor throw anything inside the bars."
With that, the Agent turned and left, closing the door behind him. Schiller raised his head, looked at Bruce through the bars, and said, "Don't be so tense. Sit down."
"Pathological." Bruce spoke the word in a low voice.
Schiller nodded and said, "It took some effort to get them to find me a decent set of clothes. I don't like those deathly colors. They make me look like some stuffy old scholar."
"And naturally, I am here to announce that you did quite well on your retest. You handled every aspect very well. Which part would you like to hear about first?"
Bruce narrowed his eyes at Schiller and asked, "Did you kill Jimmy?"
Schiller shook his head. "I thought that even while they were drawing your blood, you would have listened carefully to what the other