Murder Family Values

Alice

A/n: I realized I don't give a lot of insight to Ashley and Will's thought process when it comes to investing murders, so I wanted to include this. Enjoy!

Ashley sighed as she pulled up to the crime scene. The clouds seemed to loom ominously over the city like a weighted blanket. She could hear the honking of horns, cussing, and sirens in the distance. People hurried past, but only two or three spared a glance at the caution tape and the GCPD cars. Gotham city, home sweet home.

She wasn't wearing her suit for once. Instead, Ashley was decked in a blood-red tank top that was tucked into high-waisted black pants complete with a belt and matching boots.

This was the first case Jack Crawford had assigned for her to work alone. He seemed convinced she wouldn't be needing Will Graham's guidance soon enough. Apparently, James Gordon had asked for her specifically, by name. Ashley hated to disappoint, so here she was.

James Gordon was waiting for her just on the other side of the police tape. They nodded a stiff greeting as she joined him on the other side of the metaphorical veil. "You said it looks like one of Tetch's?"

Jervis Tetch, more commonly known as The Mad Hatter, had only interacted with the girl twice while they were in Arkham together. He seemed rather adamant to avoid her after the 13-year-old demigod had threatened to chop off his head. [In Ashley's defense, he technically did threaten her first.]

The tired police commissioner sighed. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if the girl was related to Batman. Neither of them ever bothered to say "Hey Jim, how's your day going?" It was always just "where's the body?"

"Yes, it has well over 30 similarities."

She turned her head slightly with a raised eyebrow. "If you're so sure, why do you need me?"

"Because Tetch has been locked up in Arkham for two months. And this one, well, this one is a little different."

Ashley could smell the blood before she entered the warehouse. There were what seemed like buckets worth of red, sticky liquid covering the floor, the table, and her dress. The demigod frowned as she glanced at the photos of previous crime scenes. Just like in the photos, a blonde girl sat at the head of the decorated table.

A China tea set lay scattered across the table, if you could even call it that. The killer had chosen different sized cups and mix-matched sets and several different kettles. The only thing they all had in common was the little labels tied to the handles "Drink me". Almost the entire table was covered in either blood or something or other Wonderland-themed. The girls in the photos looked almost doll-like. The girl here looked, well, dead.

She glanced between the photo and body again. There wasn't any blood in the photos. Why wasn't there any blood? Behind closed eyes, Ashley could hear the girl screaming and pleading. She could feel the blonde's fear and utter exhaustion, the type of exhaustion that makes your limbs feel like they way a metric ton.

Stronger than the exhaustion and fear was the killer's exhilaration. She could feel the glutinous hunger of the killer. Her very screams were all the nourishment he needed.

"With surgical precision, I rip out her liver. She loses consciousness far too soon for my liking, but it doesn't matter. It'll make putting the dress on easier." Ashley's words became slower and drawn out as she continues. "Every teacup represents one of my previous masterpieces. I make death look renaissance."

With little to no struggle, Ashley slipped the blue dress over the girl's head. The killer had experience. They'd done it before, or at the very least, something similar. "I prop her up and leave her to bleed. This is my design."

Her green eyes snapped open in a flash. "You're right about one thing: Jervis Tetch couldn't have done it."

Harvey Bullock scowled in the background. "Just look at the fuckin' crime scene. It has all of the signature components."

"Tell me, Detective Bullock, does Jervis Tetch have enough medical knowledge to cut the liver out of someone who's still conscious? But hey, if you're so sure..."

Harvey's face flushed tomato red and Ashley scrunched up her nose mockingly. "That's what I thought. No, the only thing these two murders have in common is a blonde girl and teacups. Just look at the photos."

She paused dramatically as she stood up. "Tetch had a sister. Same weight, same height, same hair, yadda yadda. He can't stand that these girls remind him of her. So he abducts them and tries to hypnotize them to perfection, his perfect, precious Alice."

Realization crossed Jim Gordon's face. "But they can't be perfect, because she's dead."

"Exactly. He kills them out of frustration, then presents them as a monument to her. He couldn't stand it if the crime scene were imperfect in any way. This," Ashley pauses slightly to gesture to the grotesque stage in front of them in a way that felt accusatory, "this was a mockery. It mocks us, Jervis Tetch, and this girl all in one blow. It has all the markings of... oh."

The brunette teen stumbled back a step. "Of course. How could I be so blind?"

The two older detectives exchanged a look. "What?"

"The Chesapeake Ripper." A slightly giddy expression crossed her face and the police commissioner shifted uncomfortably.

"Jesus Christ."

"Quite the opposite I'm afraid, Detective Bullock. There will be two more kills then nothing for months, maybe years. Don't you see? He's giving us an opportunity."

An opportunity to what? James Gordon bitterly thought to himself. An opportunity to be viciously murdered?