She shot the gun with precision.
And he fell.
…it's that room… Dorothy's room…
But that woman isn't Dorothy…
..she's crying.
Why?
"You will DIE, Roger Smith!"
..Dorothy?
Why are you…
She smiled. Her eyes glinted in the tainted light of the subway.
She took a stick of lipstick out of her basket, and wrote all too familiar words on the subway wall.
'Cast in the name of God, Ye not guilty.'
"Goodbye, Roger Smith."
He woke up three hours later on the cold stone floor. His chest was bandaged, but other than that it was bare.
He bolted up, noticing a figure beside him.
"I was afraid you weren't gonna wake up that time. Good thing I got here."
"..Angel?"
She stood up and flicked her blonde hair behind her head. "Yeah, it's me. Don't count on my ever saving you again, though. I only did it because Mr. Rosewater wanted me to."
"Still working for him?"
She smirked. "Yeah. I actually came down here on an assignment from him."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Why are YOU down here, Roger?"
"…I had a client."
"Odd place to meet a client at, down here…"
"Well, it wasn't a normal client."
"Obviously, or you wouldn't have been shot so early on. Who was it?"
"The girl in the red hood. From before."
Angel raised one eyebrow slightly, and helped Roger to stand. "Really." It was more of a statement than a question, as though she had expected that.
"Yeah. What kind of assignment has Rosewater got you on?"
"According to him, there's a room someplace down here. He said to find it."
"Why would he care about some damned room?"
Angel turned on him and began walking down the subway.
"Because, Roger he remembers. Unless I'm mistaken, you do too."
And she was gone.
As he was driving the Griffon home, Roger decided on a whim to turn on the radio. It never hurt to see what was going on, after all…
"…and, in other news, today another murder victim was found. The familiar 'Cast in the name of God, Ye not guilty' was found written on the victim's mirror. No leads have been found yet as to who the culprit is. Dan Dastun, upon hearing of this fifth in the crime spree, was very peeved."
Dastun's voice came over the radio as Roger reached the stoplight.
"Although we haven't found any real leads yet, I have a pretty good idea of who the culprit is. We'll be sure to nail him.
"…the forecast for tomorrow is…"
Roger flicked off the radio, recalling Dastun's suspicions of him being the serial killer. He pulled in the driveway doubtfully, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.
If only I had all the pieces.
Norman was there to greet him at the door.
"Welcome home, Master Roger. I trust your meeting went well…?"
"It didn't, in case you couldn't tell by the fact that I'm all bandaged up."
"I'm terribly sorry, Master Roger. Come inside, we should put some peroxide on this to clean it up."
Roger grudgingly allowed Norman to escort him inside and to one of the many bathrooms. As Norman took off the bandages and began carefully pouring the stinging liquid on Roger's chest, he was asked an unexpected question.
"Norman, you've been buttling here since before the Accident, right?"
"…why, yes, Master Roger. Ever since I was a teenager, I believe."
"Do you know who lived in Dorothy's room before her?"
"…I believe it was another lady, but she died when you were small. I wouldn't concern myself about it if I were you."
"It's just that everytime I go near there, I feel… like I'm lost and alone."
"Honestly, Master Roger, I don't know any more about it than that. There was a woman in there, but I remember nothing else about her."
"Does this place have an attic?"
"Yes."
"Show me there."