He spilled everything

"Did you hear that? He says he's not Bruce Wayne!"

Floyd looked back, and William played along with a string of low, raspy chuckles.

Heh heh heh!

He stepped forward and tilted the double's face up with the muzzle of his gun.

"You were him when you signed documents. You were him when you drove drunk and raced down the streets. But when it's time to suffer and atone, suddenly you're not? You don't get to admit you're Bruce Wayne only when you're enjoying yourself."

"Friend, I'm really not Bruce Wayne. Look at the scars on my face. I've suffered enough pretending to be him! Every day of my life is endless agony. I miss home. I miss my elderly mother... Wait, you can still find her. Someone forged a death certificate for me. My family must still be grieving!"

The double readily admitted who he was, giving his real name and home address so William could verify them.

A flood of information. This interrogation had certainly been worth it.

William even felt there was no need to keep up the act. The man's psychological defenses were far too flimsy.

William left the room and handed the number-one voice recorder from his pocket to James Gordon, who was waiting outside.

This evidence wasn't enough to convict Harold, but as long as the double could take the stand, he could cause the old bastard plenty of trouble.

"Mister Gordon, sorry for the trouble, but please verify this information. I'll keep questioning him and let you know immediately if anything new comes up."

Gordon nodded eagerly and carefully tucked the recorder into his coat's inner pocket.

Next, William needed to dig into the double's relationship with Harold Wayne. Interestingly, though, the double became utterly tight-lipped once they reached that subject.

Apparently, he also understood that saying certain things would bring serious trouble down on his head.

"I'll ask you one more time. Who exactly ordered you to impersonate..."

Floyd was about to threaten him with more violence when William caught his wrist.

William gave a slight shake of his head.

Too much pressure might make the man suspicious. They had already made a splendid start. Now they needed to proceed steadily.

The double was locked back in the bathroom.

"Let's wait until we've verified his identity before interrogating him again. If he really isn't Bruce Wayne..."

Those words were, of course, meant for the double to hear. William's next step was to further dismantle his psychological defenses.

"Turn on the radio. Let's see how far the police investigation has gotten."

As he said this, William could almost picture the man pressing himself against the bathroom door, straining to listen.

The following "live radio broadcast" had also been prepared especially for him.

Against a bed of white noise and electrical crackling, Casey's brisk, animated voice came through the radio.

"1010 WINS. Give me five minutes, and I'll bring you up to speed on Gotham's latest news. This is the Gotham City Radio On-Time Report."

"Breaking news-the disappearance of billionaire Bruce Wayne, which has gripped New Jersey for three days, took a dramatic turn this morning."

"Sources confirm that police have located the missing real estate magnate, Bruce Thomas Wayne, at the docks in Gotham's Miller Harbor. Footage from the scene shows Bruce appearing disoriented as police officers and medical personnel help him into an ambulance..."

Before the scripted lines had finished playing, urgent knocking came from the bathroom door.

"Let me out!"

"Now you know everything I said was true!"

Floyd yanked the door open and kicked the man twice in the chest.

"Who knows if this is some trick of yours? Maybe you're putting on a show with the police radio station!"

The man curled up beneath the sink after the beating. The tears filling his eyes weren't from pain, but desperation.

He thought Harold had already abandoned him.

It wasn't an unreasonable conclusion. Doubles weren't worth much. If one died, they could simply find another. Paying a fortune in ransom was hardly a wise decision.

Meanwhile, Gordon, disguised as bandit number three, returned with news.

"I found his family and brought back a photograph. Looks like he wasn't lying to us. He really isn't Bruce."

William took the photograph and held it beside the man's face, comparing them.

"Is this you in the photograph?"

"It's me!"

"Is it?"

"Yes. That was before the plastic surgery..."

Another round of punches and kicks awaited the double, naturally delivered by the hotheaded Floyd.

"Stop listening to his bullshit. Everyone just wants an answer anyway. Let's hand him over as Bruce Wayne!"

"No, you can't do that!"

The double wiped away his nosebleed and threw himself at Floyd's feet.

"You can't let anyone know I'm here. They'll kill me to keep me quiet!"

William had been right. There was no need to rush. Slow things down, take it easy, and the evidence would gradually emerge.

"Who wants to silence you, and why would they kill you?"

William patiently crouched beside the double. He slowed his speech, an inscrutable smile on his lips, coaxing him along like a devil tempting a believer into sin.

"Harold. Harold Wayne. He's already killed a lot of people connected to this. And he's given up on me. If he finds out I'm still alive, I'll end up just like them."

Under the devil's temptation, the man recounted an incident he had witnessed through a crack in a door.

It had been about a year ago, shortly after he was chosen to serve as Bruce's replacement. That night, a short man wearing a top hat had broken into Wayne Tower.

No one knew how the fellow had gotten inside. As the double passed Harold's office, he noticed two patrolling guards grinning vacantly, repeatedly smashing their heads against the corridor's floor-to-ceiling windows.

The office door stood ajar, and through the gap he saw that ridiculous figure from behind.

The short man seemed to be arguing with Harold. Their shouts grew louder and louder until he took off his hat and pulled a gun-shaped object out of it.

"What happened next?"

"Something pierced his chest in the darkness. It was fast and vicious! Blood sprayed onto the carpet and Harold's face. Then they spotted me. A guy wearing a mask grabbed me by the collar."

"And then?"

"He let me go, because Mister Harold said I was worth more than anyone else. As long as I didn't betray him, something like that would never happen to me..."

William's suspicions had been confirmed once again. Mad Hatter had once worked for Harold.

He had been silenced after outliving his usefulness, which indirectly explained why Mad Hatter had vanished without a trace.

Apparently, competition among Gotham's villains was fierce too.

Now that they had a witness lined up, it remained to be seen whether Stuart, who had infiltrated Harold's inner circle, could uncover any concrete evidence.

After leaving the double in Floyd's custody, William returned to his apartment and changed back into his police uniform.

He had another special task today.

The interrogation of the serial killer Zsasz was nearing its end, but he had demanded to see William before he would sign his statement.