"What is it?" Victor turned back to look at Schiller, who had stopped walking.
Schiller seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing. Let's go."
The two of them drove all the way to the Gotham Police Department. The station looked the same as ever. Its gunmetal-gray exterior appeared bleakly white beneath the streetlights. The ground by the entrance had turned muddy from the constant foot traffic, and when they entered, they stomped their feet hard on the mat.
"You're here." Gordon came out and said, "Any new leads, Great Detective?"
"You know I don't need leads." Schiller walked past him toward the interrogation rooms. Gordon turned to watch his back and shook his head. "He acts more familiar with this place than I am. Anything wrong with that? Oh, it's Rodriguez. Never mind, then."
"Sounds like you think highly of him," Victor said.
"He once reached the peak, but he's declined somewhat since then." Gordon sighed. "As long as we don't investigate only to discover that the killer's profile might be a psychic, I'll be thanking God."
Schiller entered the interrogation room. This was his first time seeing Milos: a massive man with very short hair, facial features with a hint of Latin heritage, but blond hair and eyebrows. His arms were covered in tattoos, and he wore a nose ring and a lip stud. He looked thoroughly unpleasant.
"What did you say to him?" Schiller asked, looking at him.
Milos raised his eyes to him, studying Schiller up and down with some confusion. "You're a professor from the Psychology Department?"
"Yes. I'm asking what you said to Chick."
Milos laughed disdainfully. "The police can't do anything to me, so now they're hoping you can guess something with psychology? Brainiac won't accept evidence like that."
"Yes,