When she looked up at him that way, Crane knew he was on the right track. She was already scared that he might be right, and he could use that. "You'll what, Miss Quinn? I don't think there's much you could do in this condition if you have to fight, not even with that," he gestured to the bar in her hand before looking back down the hallway, trying not to smile. He'd pegged that one easily, but this was just the start. Now what else could she be afraid of?

Or rather, what else could he bring up in regards to this fear? He hadn't exhausted all his options yet. This was certainly a far better way to convince her of who he was than by rattling off the chemical formula for his toxin (which was a secret, anyway, and there was no way he was telling it to her). Even if she didn't catch on, it was still fun for him.

"But I suppose you'll still want to try, correct? After all, if something happens to them, then you'll be all alone here, with no one to need you to look after them. All alone to fight off the mutant cats and insects and hope that you live long enough to escape and make your way back to your other cell in Arkham. Or perhaps that gang you said you're a part of...but wouldn't they have attempted to bail you out by now?"

There was no way that he could know any of that for certain, but there was a good chance that it would work.