Jervis Tetch awoke the next day in his cell, yawning and stretching. He felt strangely tired, as if he hadn't had enough sleep, although he always went to bed at eight o'clock sharp. A rested mind was a healthy mind, he reminded himself, as he went over to the sink.
He looked in the mirror, and was stunned to see splashes of blood on his face. For a moment, he was frozen in horror, and looking down, he saw that blood stained his hands and clothes. "What in…Carroll's name?" he muttered, looking to see if he had cut himself. He didn't see any cuts, and it was an incredible amount of blood.
He rapped on the cell wall. "Jonathan? Are you awake?"
"What?" muttered Jonathan Crane sleepily, from the neighboring cell.
"You didn't hear me leave my cell at any point last night, did you?" he asked nervously.
"I was asleep last night, like all decent people," muttered Crane. "Why?"
"I just…appear to have blood all over me," stammered Tetch, still gazing at his hands in horror.
"What?" asked Crane, puzzled.
At that moment, the door to the cell block burst open. "Tetch. That's the one. Bring him," snapped Commissioner Gordon, ordering several police officers into the cell block. They seized Tetch and began dragging him away.
"But I don't understand…I haven't done anything…" stammered Tetch. "I was asleep…"
"Asleep, huh?" repeated Gordon. "Then explain to me why you're covered in blood."
"I don't know why that is…I don't even know whose blood it is…" said Tetch.
"We do," snapped Gordon, holding up a photo. "Alice Pleasance. She's currently in critical condition at Gotham City General, after you attacked her with a knife in front of several eye-witnesses as she was entering her apartment last night. There's no point in denying it – you were seen, and you're still wearing the evidence. Bring him," he snapped, striding out of the cell block.
"A…Alice?" gasped Tetch. "Alice? Attacked? But I would never…I would never hurt her…I…Jonathan, you know I would never do anything like that!" he cried, turning to Crane pleadingly.
"Of course I do, Jervis," said Crane, firmly. "It's a mistake. It has to be."
"The surveillance footage from outside her apartment building will confirm it," retorted Gordon. "Dr. Leland informs me that she has been visiting you – always a mistake to encourage the insane with their delusions. You never know when they'll suddenly violently snap. I guess the poor girl's learned that, to her cost. We can only pray that she recovers."
"Yes…yes, she has to recover, my poor Alice!" stammered Tetch. "My poor Alice…hurt! What kind of monster would…"
"You did it, Mr. Tetch," interrupted Gordon, firmly. "Now come quietly."
"No, no, no, I didn't! I couldn't!" cried Tetch as he was dragged away. "I would never touch a hair on her head! I would never hurt her, I swear it! I promise you I didn't…Alice!"
Tetch did have a hard time distingushing sense from nonsense. And as he watched the surveillance footage of himself attacking Alice with a knife, and then calmly walking away, he felt as if he truly must have lost his mind. How could he do something like that without remembering, without knowing…? He would never consciously have done it. But he couldn't deny that it was him on the television screen, him, with his cold, vacant eyes stabbing his angel as she screamed. It was horrible. It was monstrous.
"You still wanna deny your guilt?" asked Detective Bullock, turning off the tape.
"Yes," murmured Tetch. "I know it is me, but it wasn't me, you see?"
"No, I don't see," snapped Bullock. "What I did see is you stabbing an innocent girl. And I think that's all I, and the judge, need to see."
Tetch shut his eyes tightly. "When is a man not himself?" he murmured.
"This a riddle?" asked Bullock. "I thought that was that Riddler freak who asked…"
"When he is someone else," answered Tetch for him. "A man is not himself when he is someone else, or when someone else is…controlling him."
Bullock lit a cigar. "You saying someone made you do this?" he asked. "Blackmailed you?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" snapped Tetch, furiously. "As if any threat to myself could ever be enough to convince me to harm Alice! You are an absurd little man, do you know that?"
Bullock blew smoke into his face. "Wouldn't go around calling people little if I were you, runt," he snapped.
"Some people are small in stature – they cannot control that," muttered Tetch. "Some people are small in mind. They can."
He leaned back. "My mind is utterly brilliant," he murmured. "I use it to control the minds of others. To control the minds of others," he repeated quietly.
He leaned forward suddenly. "I recently invented a microchip to control the mind of a human being. When I was arrested by Batman, I was not allowed to bring my technology with me. It is possible that someone found it, and is using it to control me…"
"And why would someone wanna do that?" asked Bullock. "Why would anyone wanna hurt the girl? Can't think of any heartless bastard who would be able to plan something like that in cold blood, except for you people, of course."
"Why would I hurt Alice?!" shouted Tetch, suddenly furious. "I love her!"
"Yeah, and you weren't ever gonna have her, were you?" retorted Bullock. "So maybe you thought if you couldn't have her, no one could! Hardly an uncommon situation!"
"If you really think my love for her is that small, and mean, and selfish…"
"Yeah, frankly, I do," retorted Bullock. "I think small and mean and selfish are pretty good words to describe you, freak. I will say one thing in your defense – at least you spared her the humiliation of being raped before you tried to murder her…"
Tetch struck him a powerful blow to the jaw. "I would never…never ever…force her to suffer such indignity!" he shrieked. "I love her! Can't you understand that?! I love her!"
Bullock punched him hard in return, sending him flying into the wall. "Bullock, we don't fight violence with violence!" snapped Comissioner Gordon suddenly through the intercom.
"Sorry, Comish, it was self-defense," retorted Bullock.
"I saw it, and it wasn't," retorted Gordon. "Just take him back to Arkham if he's not cooperating. We don't need him to confess – we have an airtight case against him. The lawyers are saying they might be able to prove mental competency, in which case we can push for the death penalty. Or confine him to a prison for the rest of his miserable little life."
"Well, I know which one I'm hoping for," said Bullock, smiling at Tetch. "Get him outta here," he said, gesturing to the guards.
As he was dragged past Commissioner Gordon, Tetch suddenly seized him. "Tell me…tell me…how is Alice?" he whispered. "Will she live? She must…she must live. I would gladly die if only she could live…"
"Her condition is still uncertain," muttered Gordon. "The doctors aren't sure she'll pull through. But they're hoping, as are we all."
Tetch shut his eyes tightly. "Tell them…if it will help…I will die. But they have to promise me she'll live. I'll die if it will make her live. Promise me she'll live!" he shouted, desperately. "She has to live! I will admit to doing it, I will tell you anything you want to hear, if you promise me she'll live! Alice, please! Please live!"
He broke down sobbing as he was dragged away. It was so pathetic, Gordon was almost moved to pity him. Almost.