"Shh," he pretended to soothe, bringing a finger to his lips. Or, rather, to where his lips would be if they weren't being covered by the mask. Even if he seemed as if he was trying to calm her down, his delay in answering her pleas were meant to do the complete opposite and drive that sense of desperation further into her heart. "That's not how this works. You don't get to choose."
Whoever had already killed the mother of this new personality of hers apparently already taught that lesson. There was no control here that she could reach, she was at his mercy. He had no way of knowing that these were real events, that this wasn't just in her head or a multiple personality disorder, but Crane was having fun anyway.
So much fun, in fact, that he wanted to prolong her suffering. How much can you cry out? Her mother was obviously someone very important to her, so he saw this as his chance to try something. Something that he had already done in the past to someone while Dick had held them captive, and it had worked beautifully.
Turning to the clock, that clock that kept echoing through the room, he hummed for a moment under his breath before glancing back at her. "When I come back, we can see if you convince me to let her go. In the meantime, she and I need to talk. I'll let you listen, though. You can hear her scream as she tells me what she's afraid of. So...think. You and I can talk afterwards."
And, with that, he turned on his heel to leave and give a chance for the real desperation to kick in.