Carter Jayne walked around in a hazy, drugged stupor for most of his time at the Hanwell Asylum, having been sent there on the grounds that he was criminally insane. He was, however, smart enough to know why. When he was in his teen years, having just moved to London from America, he had fallen in love with a pretty English girl named Harriet Watson. She was sassy and smart, with maybe a small amount of over-fondness toward alcohol, despite being underage. Carter charmed her into his life, and almost right into his bed, when she shocked him by kicking him to the curb. She was a lesbian. Carter had always been homophobic, and he was proud of it because he believed that what he stood for was correct and true: homosexuality is blasphemous and pointless and wrong.
Carter had always been a cold, unswaying, nearly emotionless child, only finding happiness when he moved across the pond and met Harriet. But when she left him, he cracked. He stopped being able to control his violence against women, specifically lesbians, and was re-located to an all-male boarding school. But there was still homosexuality there, and Carter started having homicidal thoughts, and even tried to kill his classmates on more than one occasion. He was admitted to a mental hospital for a brief period of time and was diagnosed with an impulse control disorder, put on medication, and released. A decade and a half passed since his release with no incident, until Carter got a random impulse to stop taking his medication.
One night, the American man went out to a public speaking presentation about gay rights, and picked out a few women that reminded him of the Bitch (for that was the name he had given Harriet over the years), that he developed plans to kill. He started by stalking each one of them, remaining unknown and in the shadows. Finding out where they lived, where they worked, their names, and one by one he came to them, lured them away from their safety, and slit their throats. It made Carter feel accomplished, actually doing what the voices in his head had been telling him for years.
He was going to the fifth girl's house, the fifth girl he was going to kill, when a tall man in a black coat began to follow him. He turned and changed his course, but no matter what Carter did, he couldn't shake the man. He began to run, abandoning his impulses, and inevitably running into a trap. He found himself facing a vaguely familiar-looking man, short, blond, and pointing a gun in his face. The police showed up seconds later, and Jayne found himself yelling out impulsive threats toward the man in the dark coat and his brave little companion.
And so, Jayne found himself walking the familiar halls of Hanwell, though little did he know that something was about to change. About a month into his stay in the institution, Carter was called down to the visitor's area. No one ever visited him; everyone he ever knew was too scared to even speak to him. Still, he went along with his escorts to the concrete-walled room filled with small groupings of tables and chairs that was designated as the Visiting Area. He was led to a table where a handsome, dark-haired, well-dressed man sat, grinning like a cat. Jayne had no idea who this man was, but was intrigued by the mystery surrounding him.
The man extended his hand, which Jayne shook, and greeted him with a strong Irish lilt.
"Mr. Jayne, I presume?" Carter nodded and took his seat. "I have reason to believe that you would make a great asset to my web."
"Your web?" Jayne was getting more and more curious about this man.
"My name is James Moriarty, and I have a little bargain to make with you that will put you in a place of power and fortune here in London. How would you like to pay Harriet Watson a visit?" The man, Moriarty, grinned and Jayne tensed as he heard the Bitch's name. The Irishman didn't give Jayne any time to respond before continuing.
"I can get you out of this place within a month's time, and get you the whereabouts of Miss Watson if you promise to do one thing for me. Kill her brother, John. I'm sure you remember him? The little detective's pet soldier?"
Recognition sparked in Jayne's grey eyes. This John Watson was the blond man who had aimed his gun at him in the alley, the night he was arrested for murdering the 4 women. Moriarty grinned, shot a wink in Jayne's direction, and left the visiting area.