Chapter 148 The Mysterious Case of a Rainy Night (Part 3)

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When Schiller returned to the interrogation room, Gordon and Batman were not with him anymore. Copperpot's wet clothes had been removed and Mona was closing the door. Upon seeing Schiller, she said, "You're the doctor, sir? The boy seems to be quite traumatized. I tried to change his clothes earlier, but he struggled too much and almost bit me."

"Thank you, madam. You've done enough. He's a bit agitated now, so I'm going to take him to the hospital."

"Well, you better hurry. He's getting tired now, and he shouldn't resist as much."

Schiller entered the gate and found Copperpot sitting in a corner with a new coat on. He was silent, and Schiller called Brand on the phone. "Send an ambulance to fetch a patient."

"What kind of patient needs an ambulance? Doesn't he have his own fancy car?"

"He's a real patient, not one of the gang bosses who went in and out of prison on parole."

"What's his condition? I'll have the nursing room ready."

"Acute stress disorder, maybe something else too. Prepare some sedatives, and I'll explain more when I get there."

Soon, Copperpot was strapped to a stretcher and taken away in an ambulance. Schiller paid no attention to his struggles.

When they arrived at the hospital, Brand greeted them. He was wearing a white coat and had obviously been busy until now. He said, "Oh my god, we finally have a real patient. I almost thought I had graduated in finance."

"Don't celebrate too soon. If I tell you that he's an important witness in the Falcone family's inheritance case, will you still feel relaxed?"

Brand's face fell, and he cursed under his breath. "I knew it. Nothing good ever happens in this godforsaken place."

"He's in a severe state of agitation and can hardly communicate. First, give him some sedatives, and we'll see how he is tomorrow."

Schiller returned to his office at Arkham Psychiatric Hospital and changed into his doctor's attire. When he entered Copperpot's hospital room, Copperpot's hands were tied to the bed rails, and his limbs were twitching. He was red-faced, his eyes were bulging, and he was making a constant panting sound.

A nurse came over and said, "Doctor, he's too agitated. We've released his muscle restriction. If this continues, it will cause serious joint damage."

"Start with the sedatives," Schiller said calmly. He bent down and checked Copperpot's eyelids. He found that he couldn't focus his gaze, and his face was very congested.

Schiller called two more nurses to hold Copperpot down, and Brand came in. "I haven't seen a case of acute stress disorder this severe in a long time. What's wrong with him?"

Brand carefully examined Copperpot and found injuries on his neck and shoulders. "Has he been abused?"

"Most likely, and it's been going on for a while. Otherwise, it wouldn't be so severe. He may have other mental disorders, and genetic disorders are not impossible."

"What about his relatives? Is there any medical history we can refer to?"

As soon as Brand asked, he answered himself, "Oh, this is Gotham. It's like finding a needle in a haystack to diagnose a real mental patient here."

"You go and rest. I'll be on duty tonight and come up with a treatment plan."

Brand left, and Schiller went back to his office. He took out a notebook from his desk drawer and began to recall what he knew about the Penguin's life. The comics didn't provide much detail about his childhood, only mentioning that he carried an umbrella with him because his mother, who became increasingly insane after his father died of pneumonia in the rain, forced him to do so. In the TV series Gotham, the Penguin had also been admitted to Arkham Asylum, where he was tortured by the warden Hugo. Whether he was diagnosed with a real mental illness was not elaborated.

According to Schiller's observation, at least the penguin man Copperpot he encountered should have a real mental illness.

The night at Arkham Psychiatric Hospital was very quiet because there were almost no real psychiatric patients here, so there would be no sudden outbreak of patients.

In the entire doctor's office, only Schiller's desk was lit, and in the quiet room, only the sound of writing echoed.

As soon as the day broke, Victor wearing a coat hurriedly walked up the steps of the Arkham Psychiatric Hospital gate. The rain had just stopped, and the cold wind in the gloomy weather blew his hair dancing.

Schiller, wearing a white coat, greeted him. Victor said, "I just finished class over at Living Hell and heard from that little fat boy that Oswald is hospitalized."

"Then I learned that you also took a leave of absence, and I guessed that you must have gone to treat him."

"Oh, how did you guess?"

"Didn't I tell you before? I've been to Oswald's house and met his mother. His mother seems to have seizures, you know, I'm not a professional, but I can tell that her mental state is not normal."

"My guess coincides with yours. Copperpot should have a hereditary mental illness." Schiller and Victor walked quickly up the staircase. Schiller said, "Acute stress disorder induced his manic symptoms, and I have already used an excessive amount of sedatives last night, but there is still no improvement this morning."

As they were saying this, the two of them arrived at the hospital room where Copperpot was. At this time, Copperpot was lying on the bed, constantly talking, but the words he uttered from his mouth had no logic and seemed to be just venting.

Victor walked to his bedside and looked at Copperpot. Then he said, "This symptom is similar to a student I taught before. He was extremely excited, talking to himself, and had a tendency to attack, and even injured his classmates."

"What are you going to do?" Victor asked Schiller, "In fact, I am quite optimistic about his talent. I know there are many mental patients in Gotham, and we can't save them all, but he's already here, we still have to find a way."

"I will let him be hospitalized, which of course means that I intend to treat him, but this mixed symptom may have a very complex cause, and I still need to do some investigation."

Just as they were talking, Brand came in with a stack of reports, handed them to Schiller, and said, "We gave him a physical examination earlier today, and the situation is not good. In addition to mental problems, he also has multiple injuries on his body, which should be caused by beatings. And the new and old injuries are mixed together, and this situation should have continued for some time."

"As we expected." Brand finally said, "This is acute stress disorder after experiencing severe abuse, and this stress state has induced other mental illnesses in him, causing him to fall into an uncontrollable extreme state of excitement."

"As for the specific treatment plan for mental problems, let's discuss it later. How serious are his physical injuries?"

"His left ankle joint has been severely traumatized, and his right arm is also broken. Just treating these injuries alone may take some time."

"If his excitement state breaks out again later, we will not be able to treat his injuries at all, and I do not recommend using an excessive amount of sedatives for him again. He is too young, and his brain may not be able to handle it."

Schiller touched his forehead, he said, "This is really troublesome. Can we contact his mother? I want to investigate his medical history."

Victor shook his head and said, "It's difficult. His mother's mental state is also not normal. When I went there last time, she almost chased me out with a broom. If you want to investigate, you can only go to his house."

"Okay..." Schiller finally arranged, "Brand, you first take the time to treat his external injuries, and Victor and I will go to his house to see what's going on."

After leaving, Schiller and Victor sat in the car. Victor said while driving, "Actually, you surprised me a little. I thought you were the kind of doctor who doesn't like to meddle in other people's affairs."

"You don't have to put it so politely. I know, you think I'm the kind of person who won't save lives if the money is not in place."

Victor coughed awkwardly, and Schiller sat in the passenger seat, placing the umbrella next to the seat, and then tightened his coat and said, "Actually, what you think is right. Most of the time, I am like that."

"However, the entire class at that vocational school can only write the words I know, and if he goes crazy, I'm afraid I will be driven crazy by that dog-like font."

Victor held the steering wheel, smiled and didn't turn his head, and said, "I think you are tough on the outside but tender on the inside, pretending to be an unscrupulous doctor, but in fact, you still have sympathy."

"I'll say it again. I may be unscrupulous, but I am definitely not a mediocre doctor."

The car turned and twisted into a narrow alley next to Living Hell. When the two got out of the car, Schiller poked the broken stones on the roadside with the tip of the umbrella and said, "It seems that the renovation area of Living Hell is still too small, and this place is still so dirty and messy."

"It's actually not bad," Victor looked around and said, "Before, cars couldn't even come in here, now it's much better."

The two entered a dark corridor and walked up two floors. Victor knocked on the door and asked, "Mrs. Copperpot, are you there?"

"Are you sure she'll answer you? As far as I know, some mentally ill patients are unable to take care of themselves."

"Should be able to. When Mrs. Copperpot doesn't have an attack, she just has some muscle spasms." Victor explained while continuing to knock on the door, but after a long time, there was no response. Victor frowned and said, "What's going on?"

With no response, Victor could only say, "Something might have happened. We'll go around to the Rooftop on the opposite side and enter from the balcony. That's all we can do."

The two went around the corridor, went out the door at the end of the same floor corridor, came to the terrace, and after walking around in a circle, came to the next balcony. Then they climbed into Mrs. Copperpot's balcony.

Then, they saw from outside the window that Mrs. Copperpot's house was in a mess, as if there had just been a fight and Mrs. Copperpot was nowhere to be found.

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