The District Attorney's Double

At around eleven that night, an elderly gentleman was beaten to death in the street with a cane. The sturdy cane snapped under the blows, and his body was reduced to something resembling a minced-beef milkshake.

Of course, by the standards of the real Gotham City, the murder was hardly gruesome. It was the sort of case that earned a few lines in a corner of the newspaper, without so much as a photograph.

The police quickly opened an investigation, and Bruce hurried over.

At the scene, Bruce stared at the body in a daze. He soon found a witness, though: a maid who lived alone in a nearby house and had seen the attack.

"I can hardly believe it was real. It was like a nightmare. Oh, God..." The maid's voice trembled. She was clearly badly shaken.

"Take a deep breath, ma'am. Try to relax. You're safe now," Bruce said gently. "Can you tell me what you saw last night?"

"Oh... all right, Mr. Harvey." The maid drew a deep breath. "At eleven last night, I'd already gone upstairs to rest. There wasn't as much fog at midnight as there is before dawn, and the moonlight was bright. I could see outside clearly, so I went to the window to meditate in the moonlight."

"And then?"

"I saw a gentleman with white hair walking down the alley."

"What did he look like?" Bruce asked.

"He was tall, with a kindly face. His hair and beard had gone gray, and he looked like an honest old man. He was dressed impeccably in a well-fitted black suit and a fine tie. His shoes were polished to a shine."

"I see. What happened next?"

"Then a short gentleman carrying a cane came toward him. His face was terribly distorted. He had no visible injuries, but he looked almost disfigured. He'd visited my employer before, so I remembered his face well."

"Do you know his name?"

"No." The maid shook her head. "My employer took him straight into the study. They talked for a while, and then he left. The gentleman never gave his name."

Bruce nodded for her to continue.

"The elderly gentleman greeted him, but he didn't answer. He just played with his cane impatiently. After about two minutes, he flew into a rage and knocked the old gentleman to the ground. Then he pinned him underfoot and beat him with the cane. I heard his bones breaking and his cries of pain... It was awful. I fainted."

"I see..." Bruce interlaced his fingers. He understood what had happened.

After asking the maid for a few more details, Bruce went to the Police Department. The broken cane had already been taken there as evidence.

"Mr. Harvey, what brings you here?" the officers called out, greeting Bruce one after another.

"I heard about this terrible murder and came to see what was going on." Bruce was a little uncomfortable with their warm reception. "Have you identified the victim?"

"We have. It's Sir Dennis Kajou."

"Oh..." The name confirmed Bruce's suspicions.

Bruce entered Commissioner Gordon's office. Gordon was busy trying to work out how to prepare a wanted notice for the killer from the night before.

According to the witness, the killer had striking features and an indescribably deformed face. Yet they could not find a single trace of him in their records. It made no sense.

Commissioner Gordon sighed and raised his head to stretch his neck. That was when he spotted his close friend in the doorway.

"Harvey? Has something happened?" Gordon asked, puzzled. "What brings you here all of a sudden? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I need to talk to you about last night's murder." Bruce sat down across Gordon's desk. "I know who the killer is."

"Who?" Gordon started.

"Me." Bruce leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers. His voice took on a strange tone. "Respectability and depravity. Indulgence and restraint. Honesty and deceit. People have two sides, just like this city, where wealthy, respectable streets stand beside alleys rife with violence."

"What are you talking about...?" Gordon was baffled.

"To put it simply, Harvey Dent's other personality committed the murder," Bruce said. He had read Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and the resemblance was impossible to miss.

But why was Harvey dreaming about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? He did have two personalities, but surely he didn't aspire to become Jekyll and Hyde.

"...Harvey, I think you've been under too much stress lately." Gordon looked at Bruce with concern.

"No. Everything I've said is true." Bruce shook his head. "Harvey's demon was locked away for a long time, but now it's roared its way out of its cage. At the scene, I could feel it clearly. It beat that helpless body in a frenzy of delight, savoring every blow... I've decided to destroy myself along with that demon. I drank poison before I came here."

"No... you're wrong." Gordon let out a strange laugh. His body began to break apart, transforming into a giant bat bound in chains. "That wasn't Harvey Dent's demon..."

"It was yours, Bruce Wayne!"

Bruce felt himself falling. Everything around him shattered. In a shard of mirror, he caught sight of himself: dressed in black, with metal goggles studded with iron spikes over his eyes, Joker's deathly white face, and split lips pulled into a hideous grin.

"Wake up." Gilda roused Bruce rather roughly. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine..."

"Your vital signs looked like stocks I used to own. You scared Gilda half to death," Roland said. "What happened?"

"...I lived through a version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but I think I got the heart of the problem wrong." Bruce removed the device from his head and fell into thought.

"How about letting me try?" Roland suggested. He was curious about what Bruce had experienced.

"Hmm..." Bruce thought for a moment. "Be careful. Whatever you do, don't try to take your evil side down with you."

"Got it." Roland put on the Wonderland Device, took a sleeping pill, and fell asleep.