There were signs, Max. These are young women. I'd wager they were his students, like you. [Click.] If you were careless enough to miss the signs, it's your own simpleminded fault.

[Click.]

Guilt is never to be doubted, you know. Nor human stupidity.

[Click.

There is silence. It seems Crane won't continue to speak. His eyes lift to Max; a cold, clinical gaze is leveled at her vulnerable position strapped to the chair. Then they go to the monitor, then back to her, where they hold for a while before returning to one of Jefferson's photographs. It's Max, bound and laid, captured from a downward angle. He takes on a mildly curious tone and glances back.]

How close did he feel to you?

[He gives a boyish smile knowing it's a terrible question. Jefferson would have been standing close to take his photographs... but he would have felt a spiritual need to be close. Max had come under his gaze because of it. He isn't going to drop his gaze, either. She is here to be studied.]