At dusk, it rained again in Gotham. The golden ripples floating on the Gotham River unusually added a touch of softness and liveliness to the city. The fine lines of rain fell into the crevices of the bricks on the riverbank, and the currents formed by the rainwater flowed towards the houses on the shore. The number plate of Kazsow 125 reflected the secret light of the street lamp in the rain.
Shiller stood by the phone stand on the first floor, holding the phone with one hand and gently stroking the phone line with the other, saying, "I'm very sorry, Ms. Padiria, I need to cancel your appointment tonight. Could you please come back tomorrow afternoon?"
"I'm very sorry, this is rather sudden. A colleague of mine in the police department has some emergency cases that need to consult with me. I don't think I can provide psychological treatment for you immediately after consulting on a murder case. It would be irresponsible for both of us."
"Thank you very much for your understanding." Shiller switched the phone to the other ear and said, "Your next psychological treatment will be free, and I won't include it in the bill as a thank you for your generosity and patience."
There was some noise coming from the stairs behind him. A girl's voice called Shiller's name. He turned to look, gestured to stop her, and then said, "Yes, she's a victim of a case, currently staying temporarily at my psychiatric clinic as my assistant. Perhaps you will meet her tomorrow afternoon. God bless you, madam."
"Put the package on the coffee table, Nemocine," Shiller turned to the girl standing on the stairs and said. She looked about thirteen or fourteen years old, wearing a blue plaid dungaree dress, her orange-red hair hanging down, and wearing a pair of large black-framed glasses. Through the lenses, one could see those slightly indifferent and neurotic eyes.
The girl walked down the stairs and placed the package on the coffee table. Shiller turned and went to the cabinet beside and took out a letter opener.
"You should know that using this method to prevent me from accessing sharp objects is useless, right?" the girl said. Her speech was very fast and her voice was pleasant, but her tone was overly flat, sounding a bit like a rhythmic, clanging typewriter.
Holding the letter opener, Shiller came over, opened the package, and said, "Considering you threatened seven foster families with sixteen different knives in five years, I find this kind of management necessary."
"I didn't threaten them," Nemocine frowned and continued with her rapid speech, "It's just that they were too stupid to understand what I was saying. To communicate with them, I had to use this method to calm them down."
"Alright, Nemo. You are now back with your first foster family, and out of concern for your mental state, Chief Gordon sent you here to me."
"I hate psychiatrists."
Shiller stopped speaking. The opened package contained some personal living items. He handed the opened package to Nemocine and asked, "Is your foster father very busy lately?"
"Yes. He sent me here not because of my mental state, or because he really believes you can heal me, but because he doesn't want me pestering him about the matters of the serial murder case."
"Serial murder case?"
"Yes." There was finally a glimmer of light in Nemocine's eyes. She began to get excited, removed her glasses, and, with somewhat violent movements, tore at the package and said, "James said it was the most tricky serial murder case he had encountered, and he called it the 'Eden Killer'."
"It's a very intriguing case. Although he never let me look at the files, just from his descriptions, I know this killer is not simple. He murdered seven prostitutes and five clients over the last three weeks, all during the act of intimacy. The crime scenes are said to be very peculiar. Unfortunately, that idiot Gordon shows me nothing."
"Do you think you can see something?" Shiller asked.
Nemocine seemed a bit surprised. She looked up at Shiller and said, "I thought you would be like him, telling me not to touch such things, saying something like 'it's not good for my mental health,' or simply thinking I'm a pervert."
"I don't think that way," Shiller replied. "Regardless of why you are drawn to the case, I would more likely commend you as a diligent, inquisitive detective."
"Fake," Nemocine said, fully opening the package. She added, "I just went to see my room. This house is as peculiar as you are. It couldn't be something you bought, probably a gift from a friend. When he gave it to you, you weren't that close yet. I've found electric shock traces on every doorknob. Does James know this?"
Nemocine's thinking and speech content were quite erratic, but Shiller still looked at her calmly and asked, "Why are you interested in the Eden Killer?"
"Because it's indeed an interesting person, very smart. Unlike other serial killers, where I can identify who they are with just a glance at the files, I'm not confident with this guy, so naturally, I want to understand him."
"I see. A strong curiosity is a good thing." After saying this, Shiller went to the kitchen to make tea. Nemocine went upstairs, organized her personal belongings, and came back down to find Shiller flipping through the phone book.
"I can't understand you," she said. "You and that Eden Killer are equally unfathomable. Some labels that shouldn't be on you are always flitting before my eyes. Can you explain?"
"Don't rush, Miss. Judging from Chief Gordon's busy schedule, you'll probably have to stay here for at least a week. Getting to know each other is a necessary process in psychological treatment, and we have plenty of time."
Nemocine suddenly rushed down, picked up the letter opener by the coffee table, and walked towards Shiller with the knife held high. Shiller didn't move; he just watched her actions.
Nemocine stabbed the knife into the high chair in front of the island platform and said, "I feel like a soda bottle about to explode. You must find something for me to do. You're so trusted by James, you must have heard him talk about many different cases, right?"
"Though I have some connection with Chief Gordon, we don't frequently communicate. However, another friend of mine often discusses some cases with me."
"The person who gave you this house?" Nemocine looked around the house and said, "About six feet tall, very strong, showing some traits of an avoidant personality. Never wears a suit here. Tactical boots? Could he be an agent? Oh, dear God, that bat freak in the tight suit? How did you become friends with him?"
"Some twists of fate," Shiller said. "I didn't know him much earlier than I knew you. By the way, you still don't know the truth about that Lincoln March case back then, do you? I can tell you about it."
"I don't want to hear some boring bedtime story. I'm not lying, Doctor, I really feel awful. My brain is a mess. The medication they gave me does nothing, and the sleeping pills don't calm my nerves. Will your story help?"
"You'll only know after listening." Shiller placed the tea on the coffee table, inviting Nemocine to sit opposite him. He began recounting the story of meeting the Primary Universe Batman and teaming up with him to deal with Lincoln March.
The story wasn't long, and Shiller wasn't particularly good at storytelling, but fortunately, the story itself had its ups and downs. Just as Shiller was reaching the climax, the door suddenly knocked.
Shiller got up to answer the door. Nemocine jumped up like crazy and started pacing quickly around the room. Shiller had to hurry back to stop her from breaking things.
"Oh, God. I forgot I brought you a trouble." Soaked with rain, Gordon walked in and said, "Sorry, Nemo, I didn't mean you are trouble. Unless you've threatened Professor Rodriguez with a kitchen knife again. Have you?"
Gordon took off his raincoat, hung it up, and wiped his wet shoes on the carpet, stamping his foot lightly. Seeing the letter opener stabbed into the high chair, he couldn't help but sigh.
"Don't mind it," Shiller said. "She's just a child with spectrum traits. High-functioning and hyper-excitement are often linked together, her aggressive behavior can't hurt me, so you don't need to apologize for it."
Nemocine suddenly calmed down, standing there coldly watching the two, as if observing a rain from outside the world. Then she sat on a chair at the dining table nearby, started rocking back and forth, and played with her fingers.
"You interrupted our story time," Shiller said. "I was telling her about the March case back then. I heard you've been busy with an Eden Killer case recently?"
"Yes. I'm really overwhelmed, so I asked Batman to bring you over to help look after Nemocine. No orphanage or special school in the whole of Gotham is willing to let her attend anymore, nor can we find a foster family. If this case wasn't so tricky, I wouldn't have troubled you."
Shiller shook his head and said, "When Batman wrote to me asking for help, the mess I envisioned was far worse than this. It's fortunate it's just looking after an autistic child."
"Nemocine she..."
"A typical high-functioning spectrum patient. She has self-care abilities, which is a piece of good news, but during episodes, there might be some aggressiveness. I can calm her down, so it's not much trouble."
"Alright, thank you so much," Gordon sighed with relief and said, "It's all my fault. I didn't expect the first foster family I chose for her would turn out that way. Otherwise, her situation would be much better than it is now. Anyway, let's not talk about that. I came to find you precisely because of the Eden Killer."
Nemocine, nearby, seemed to be suddenly jolted awake. She charged over like a frenzied hunting dog, nearly knocking Gordon under the porch.
"Oh, don't do that, miss. You're not seven or eight years old anymore."
"Tell me everything about the Eden Killer!" she said to Gordon, "I can help you catch him. I've said it many times! I'm much more useful than those stupid officers under you!"
Just as Gordon was about to refuse, Shiller said, "Whether Nemocine becomes you or the next Eden Killer is up to you, James. Why not let her try?"
"Those things are too advanced for a 14-year-old child and severely violate child protection regulations," Gordon said. "Involving a child in a murder case should be considered a disgrace, especially when she's a child undergoing treatment."
"This benefits her condition's relief," Shiller said. "I hope you can thoroughly consider my professional opinion."
Gordon was evidently half-convinced but still took an envelope out of his briefcase. They moved to the table and sat down.
"You check first," Gordon said. "Make sure these photos won't trigger her before giving them to her."
Shiller nodded, took photos out of the envelope, glanced at them, and said, "These are indeed not suitable for kids, James. Bring the marker pen, you'll need to manually pixelate some parts of these photos."
"No!" Nemocine said, "I told you I don't fear blood!"
"It's not about covering up blood," Shiller explained patiently, "it's about covering up the sexual elements. You know when the Eden Killer struck, that's not a scene for someone your age."
Nemocine turned her head to glare at Gordon as if asking why he was moving so slowly. Gordon fetched the marker and photos, covering the necessary areas before handing them to Nemocine.
As soon as she touched the photos, the little girl quieted down. She examined each photo carefully, then said, "No, this isn't a serial murder case."