Chapter 31: Interrogation
The interrogation room at Gotham Central was a study with concrete walls, fluorescent lighting, and a single metal table bolted to the floor. Commissioner Gordon stood behind the one-way mirror, watching as Batman prepared to question their prize catch.
"Three hours he's been awake," Gordon muttered, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Hasn't said a word. Just sits there staring at the wall."
Batman studied the figure slumped in the metal chair. Victor Zsasz looked exactly as he should—scarred flesh telling stories of dozens of kills, dead eyes that held no remorse. But there was something different about his posture, a subtle alertness that seemed at odds with his usual vacant demeanor.
"Leave us alone," Batman instructed.
Gordon nodded, stubbing out his cigarette. "You've got twenty minutes before the lawyers start screaming."
The door closed with a metallic clang, leaving Batman alone with what he believed was Gotham's most prolific serial killer. The Architect, wearing Zsasz's face with perfect precision, looked up with carefully practiced dead eyes.
"Batman," he said in Zsasz's distinctive rasp. "Come to study the monster?"
Batman pulled out a chair and sat across from him. "You've been stalking Alex Thorne for days, Zsasz. Why so long? What's stopping you from taking him?"
The false Zsasz began tracing an invisible pattern on the metal table with his finger—two circular motions connected by a straight line. He sat askew in his chair, one shoulder hunched higher than the other. "Scales tip when someone disrespects what they don't understand, Batman. That psychiatrist... he spoke about people like me on television like we are some specimen to be studied."
"So this is about revenge? Because he exposed the real you publicly?"
The false Zsasz continued the tracing motion, his dead eyes staring at Batman. His handcuffs clinked softly as he kept one arm tense on the table while the other hung loose. "Of all the zombies pretending to help people, he's the worst kind. He sits in his office, judging minds he can't comprehend, claiming to heal what can't be healed."
Batman leaned forward slightly. " Why would that affect you ? Thorne is trying to help people, Zsasz. He's a psychiatrist."
"Justice demands that those who mock what they don't understand face consequences." The false Zsasz's finger traced the same pattern again—circles and a line. "He didnt just mock Architect on that show, Batman. He laughed at me, called me 'textbook' and 'predictable, challenging everything I stand for.'"
"And that's worth killing him for?"
The false Zsasz's vacant stare never wavered as his finger continued the methodical tracing. He tilted his head sharply to one side, never keeping it level. "Are you telling me that his arrogance doesn't deserve punishment? He treats broken minds like mine as puzzles to solve, not understanding that some things are meant to stay broken."
Batman's eyes narrowed. "He's just doing his job. If anything, its people like you who deserves punishment."
"Broken people like me don't get second chances, Batman. But he gets to sit there, comfortable and safe, dissecting killers for entertainment." The false Zsasz traced the pattern more deliberately now, his posture remaining unbalanced as he leaned heavily to one side. "His death will teach other doctors to show proper respect."
"Proper respect is not something your kind will get, Zsasz."
The false Zsasz finally looked up from his tracing, his dead eyes meeting Batman's. He kept one hand flat on the table while making a loose fist with the other. "Batman, you know what it's like to be judged by people who think they understand darkness. He crossed a line when he mocked me publicly."
"So you're going to kill him because your fragile ego were hurt?"
"I'm going to kill him because he represents everything wrong with this system. Doctors who think they can fix monsters, who profit from our pain."His chair creaked softly as he rocked it slightly, creating an unsteady rhythm. "He made me into a joke on television to boost his reputation."
Batman stood up, studying the man across from him. "This seems more personal than your usual kills."
"The most important kills are always personal, Batman. This one will send a message No one mocks Victor Zsasz and lives."
Batman moved toward the door, his mind processing the unusual conversation. "Killing him won't change what he said."
"Balance will be restored when his arrogance is silenced forever." The false Zsasz's voice carried that familiar emptiness as Batman reached for the door handle. His final gesture was sliding his handcuffs to one side of the table chain, letting them hang unevenly. "Every zombie who laughs at monsters learns eventually. He'll learn too."
The door closed behind Batman with a metallic clang.
---
**Later that night, in the Batcave:**
Bruce Wayne sat hunched over the evidence table, his cowl pulled back, analyzing forensic samples from some of the crime scenes. The fragments of fabric, trace chemicals, and DNA samples were spread across the illuminated surface as he worked methodically through each piece.
Alfred approached with a steaming cup of coffee. "Perhaps you should rest, Master Bruce. It's been eighteen hours since—"
"Something's wrong," Bruce muttered, not looking up from the microscope. "The speech patterns don't match Zsasz's usual style. His responses are too weird, too different—"
He stopped mid-sentence, his hand freezing over a blood sample slide. The conversation from the interrogation suddenly crashed back into his consciousness—not the content, but the delivery. The way each response had started with specific words, as if...
Bruce's head snapped up, his eyes wide with sudden realization.
"The opening words," he breathed, spinning toward the computer array. "Computer! Emergency analysis—extract the first word from each of Zsasz's responses during tonight's interrogation. Display immediately!"
The massive screens flickered to life, displaying the transcript analysis in seconds:
1. SCALES
2. OF
3. JUSTICE
4. ARE
5. BROKEN
6. BATMAN
7. I'M
8. THE
9. BALANCE
Bruce shot to his feet, his chair sliding backward across the cave floor. "No, its cant be..." His voice rose with urgency as the pattern became crystal clear.
"Alfred!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the cavern. "ALFRED!"
The butler appeared at the top of the stairs, alarmed by the panic in Bruce's voice. "Sir?"
"That wasn't Zsasz!" Bruce was already moving toward the Batsuit, his movements sharp. "I've been played—completely played! The man I interrogated was delivering a message: 'Scales of justice are broken, Batman. I'm the balance.'"
Bruce's hands were flying over the computer keyboard, pulling up the interrogation footage and running facial recognition algorithms. "Computer—analyze micro-expressions, speech patterns, compare to Zsasz's psychological profile from previous encounters. Priority Alpha!"
Warning alerts began flashing across the screens as the analysis completed in real-time.
"But sir," Alfred said, descending the stairs, "there's more. Pull up the surveillance footage of his physical behavior."
Bruce's fingers flew across the keyboard, displaying the interrogation room footage. "Computer—analyze subject's physical movements and positioning throughout the interrogation."
As the analysis ran, Batman watched in growing amazement as the computer highlighted the false Zsasz's actions:
Unbalanced posture, asymmetrical hand positions, tracing scales pattern repeatedly, uneven handcuff positioning, tilted head positions, Chair rocking to & fro..
"He was literally acting out 'broken scales of justice' the entire time," Bruce said grimly. "Every movement, every gesture... it was all part of the message."
"Alfred," he called out.
"Yes, Master Bruce?"
"Contact Gordon. I need to speak with Zsasz again. Now."
"At this hour? It's nearly 3 AM."
"The person I interrogated tonight wasn't Victor Zsasz," Bruce said grimly. "And I have a feeling he's long gone by now."
The phone rang twice before Gordon's gruff voice answered. "This better be important, Batman."
"I need to question Zsasz again," Bruce said without preamble.
"About what? You just left three hours ago."
"The man I interrogated wasn't Victor Zsasz."
There was a pause, then Gordon's voice returned, tighter now. "That's going to be a problem."
"What do you mean?"
"Zsasz is gone," Gordon said. "Cell's empty. No sign of how he got out. It's like he just... vanished."
Bruce continued. "When?"
"We discovered it an hour ago. I was about to call you."
"I'm on my way."
Bruce hung up and stared at the message on the screen. The Architect had played him completely—using the interrogation not just to escape, but to deliver his manifesto directly to Batman's face.
Scales of justice are broken, Batman. I'm the balance.
---
Gotham Central Police Station - 3:47 AM:
Batman stood in the empty cell, his cape billowing in the air. The concrete walls showed signs of recent activity—scratches and markings that hadn't been there before, some in Zsasz's characteristic tally marks, others in what looked like more deliberate notation.
"How long between my leaving and the discovery?" Batman asked Gordon.
"Maybe two hours," Gordon replied, his cigarette smoke curling in the fluorescent light. "Guards check every thirty minutes. He was there at 1:15, gone at 1:45."
Batman studied the wall markings more closely. Hidden among what appeared to be random scratches were coordinates and what looked like fragments of academic notation.
"Get me a UV light," Batman instructed.
When the blacklight revealed the hidden writing, Batman's suspicions were confirmed. Etched into the concrete in precise script were psychological notes and below them, in the same careful handwriting, was an address: "Ace Chemicals - Warehouse 47."
"Son of a bitch," Gordon muttered. "He's been planning this the whole time."
Batman stared at the wall, his mind racing. The hidden message during the interrogation, the elaborate escape, the breadcrumbs left behind—it was all part of a larger game.
"This isn't Zsasz," Batman said quietly. "Someone else was in this cell. Someone who wanted us to find this."
"The Architect?"
"Has to be." Batman stepped back, studying the entire wall. "He's been playing us from the beginning. The question is what he wants us to find at that warehouse—and where the real Zsasz is now."
As dawn broke over Gotham City, Batman left the empty cell with a new understanding of the game he'd been playing. The Architect hadn't just escaped—he'd delivered his message, assessed his opposition, and set the stage for the next phase of his plan.
But Batman still didn't know who was behind the mask, or what his ultimate endgame truly was. One thing was certain: the Architect was far more dangerous than he'd initially believed. This wasn't just another vigilante—this was someone who could think several moves ahead with the powers to match it.
Notes :
1) I think many of you were probably hoping he would end up in Arkham. But if that happened, the arc would spiral off into a much more complex direction. He could easily get into Arkham just by shapeshifting—there's no need for such an elaborate setup. Besides, sending him to Arkham would mean I'd have to include encounters with most of the major villains like Joker, Firefly, and many more who havent appeared in story as free so far.
2) This chapter is all about Alex flexing—from kidnapping Zsasz right under Batman's nose to meeting him face-to-face just to taunt him. I had to revise the chapter for days to find some dialogues to fit my concept. It turned out okay i guess?
3) We will be done with Zsasz by next chapter.
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