Ch. 32

Rorschach left Hollis' car a block away from his home then left the key on his windowsill and knocked before slipping away. Looking up at the night sky, he realized it must be barely after midnight. Somehow it seemed as if more time had passed since the events at the factory and the hospital visit. Rorschach briefly considered going back to the factory, but it was too soon after what had happened. He didn't really want to do this, not right now. He almost thought of tracking down Nite Owl II and forcing him to go with him, but he didn't want to deal with that either. Instead, Rorschach patrolled the streets, even going beyond his usual routes. Every hour or so he would think of retiring for the night, but he didn't want to. He just kept going. He stopped a carjacking and tailed an ex-drug dealer for a while and determined he was behaving before he let off. Looking at the empty streets, Rorschach felt uneasy. For a moment he thought he was being followed, but no, he couldn't see anybody. He was just being paranoid.

Rorschach thought about the way crime rates had gone down. He would love to believe that they as vigilantes were doing something, making a difference, as Ozymandias would say, but he wondered if it was something else. Maybe the criminals had all gone underground, or moved to another city. Maybe they were afraid of something else that wasn't the Crimebusters. Rorschach saw the sky grow purple around him. The sun would be rising soon. Had he really been out that long?

Suddenly, he felt guilty. Underboss was going to know a crime fighter had stopped by if that man he had broken recovered enough to explain what had happened and word got around. Rorschach knew he couldn't manage so many people at once, but he could at least scout out to see where Underboss moved to next -- if indeed, that factory was Underboss'; he hadn't been able to determine that, either.

Feeling a strong sense of obligation, Rorschach returned to the factory district. It was still not yet dawn. Some factories were starting to open, but it was still mostly deserted. He slipped in and out of the bushes and behind buildings as he made his way to Underboss' suspected hideout.

The building still looked dead from where he was. But, something wasn't right. It looked too dead.

Dead.

For some reason, that word sent a chill through Rorschach's spine. He approached the building cautiously, looking around him as he went. Laurie's blood had vanished from the ground without a trace. Puzzled, Rorschach turned towards the building again, that feeling he was being watched strong in him. Quietly, he went towards the building. There was something on the door that he could see from where he was standing, but he wasn't close enough to tell what it was exactly. He had a feeling he knew what it was, though. Taking one quick sweep around his shoulder, Rorschach finally made it to the door.

On the door was a smile. Orange, and despite having been paint, did not show any traces of having dripped down in streaks as it dried. No, this smile was just as perfect as the rest of the ones he had seen on the few outings he had with Ozymandias.

Rorschach hesitated. He didn't expect the media-coined code name Agent Orange to be inside, but at the same time he knew what he would find. Still, there had been so many people in there. Agent Orange was just one man -- how could one man kill so many people? They couldn't all be dead, could they?

Curiosity finally gave in over all else, and Rorschach pushed his way inside. It was cold, colder than it had been merely hours before when he had been driven into a rage. Rorschach crept in, even knowing that he would not find anybody here to discover his trespass. The first thing he noticed when he turned the corner was that the man was still there. The man who had attacked Laurie. Rorschach felt stricken for a moment as he wondered if the man had died from what Rorschach had done to him. In his anger he had wanted the man to die, but Rorschach didn't like the idea of becoming a murderer even to punish for a crime.

It appeared that Rorschach needn't have worried. From where he was standing, he could see that the man had been disemboweled. Rorschach wondered what kind of man would kill like that. He understood rage, and what someone was capable of under its hold. But this cold-blooded killing of an unconscious man, however disgusting a specimen, was something he couldn't wrap his mind around. Stepping over the body, Rorschach made his way into the back. Everywhere he went, in the halls, in rooms, stairwells, there were dead bodies. They were scattered about the floors and against walls as if they had dropped where they had stood. All of them, dead, with precise cuts across their throats and abdomens, almost surgical in nature. All horrifying, all difficult to look away from.

Rorschach began to walk through this grotesque maze without bothering with stealth. He still kept a lookout, of course, but he had a feeling that there really was no need for him to bother at this rate. This building was only a tomb now.

Rorschach looked out the back window, into the previously bustling area that he had spotted the night before when he had been hiding. The men he had seen at sentry and otherwise were all there, dead. Rorschach headed upstairs and found more bodies there, dead. In one room, he found a single male body. He was the only one who seemed to have been specifically placed there, rather than discarded like a doll as the others had been. He was bound and gagged with a horizontal slit across his eyes, and a vertical slit down the middle of his face, only to meet another horizontal slit across his throat. There was no mistaking that it was Underboss. Drained of his body fluids and lying pale and cold and dead on the floor, it was hard to tell, but he still retained all of his clothing and his suit, stained or otherwise, was still a blinding white.

Rorschach didn't understand it. He stepped back, saw the smile. Still orange, slightly above Underboss' head as if to tell him something. That didn't surprise him. What did was the note that was politely tucked behind Underboss' ear. With a trembling hand, Rorschach took it and looked at it in disbelief:

"MUCH obliged and laughs were had --

menace is handled quite well I'm afraid

it wasn't as funny as

initially

imagined.

Great RESPECT is had for those who fight for JUSTICE

accept this gift or not your choice

much is said about the nature of man who runs from

his true self"

At the end of the note was a smile, perfectly printed on as if the murderer had used a typewriter, but Rorschach knew better. He knew it was written by hand. But what hand could be so precise and yet possess such convoluted writing? He read over the note again and realized now what the killer was trying to show him.

This man wasn't just murdering people at random; he was punishing them. He thought he was a vigilante, didn't he? It all made sense now. A twisted sort of sense, but Rorschach was starting to understand. But what of Ozymandias? That man was insanely intelligent, and he must have seen in this man's intentions. Why did he have such a hard time finding him? Rorschach left the building. He started to put the note into his jacket, but it seemed dirty, somehow. He was already making his way out to investigate further out back, when he realized it was morning.

Sighing, Rorschach took the back streets to get to his own home, instead. There would be no sleep for him -- he had to go to work. He folded up the paper and left it on the floor under a cabinet. Why he put it there, he had no idea, but it just seemed fitting at the time. He looked at the clock. He had an hour to get to work, and this case was nagging at him. He walked to Captain Metropolis' house. Nelly answered and appeared startled to see him. Rorschach explained that he needed to contact Ozymandias and after much hesitation, Nelly gave him his information. Rorschach returned home and dressed for work. He put Ozymandias' number into his pocket and went on his way. He would have to call him later; he just didn't have the time right now. It wasn't until he was halfway to work that he realized he had promised Laurie to visit her that morning and hadn't.

Walter felt bad. How did he end up forgetting something like that? For a moment he stood still, unable to decide what to do. Eventually the need to go to work prevailed and he showed up, ten minutes early. He bitterly wondered if he would have been able to see Laurie in those ten minutes, but of course, that was unrealistic.

Walter worried all morning as he assisted Mr. Petersen. First there was a man late for a funeral who thought it would be possible to get a custom suit order done in ten minutes. It was ridiculous how some rich folk thought. He ended up buying three suits because he couldn't decide on a fit. A quiet young man came in and had himself measured for a sport coat. A father and son came in, the father wanting his son to have a suit for his new position under him as vice president of a prestigious company. Oh yes, these men were living the good life, all right. At lunch time, Walter used the phone booth across the street to call Ozymandias.

"Hello?"

"Ozymandias?"

"Rorschach?"

"Yes." Walter felt relieved, though at the same time he felt a little ridiculous out in broad daylight calling Ozymandias and using Rorschach's voice.

"Found more of Agent's work," he explained to Ozymandias.

"Oh...oh, that's--"

"Think you know more about him than you let on."

Silence. For a moment Walter thought that Ozymandias had hung up.

"Rorschach, why don't we meet tonight?" Ozymandias asked. "Six o'clock, at the usual place. I think we can discuss this properly if we met in person."

Walter paused, but he heard himself speak as if he were outside looking down from another perspective. It really was a bizarre sensation.

"All right," Walter agreed, then hung up.

Walter came out of the phone booth and looked at a clock in the window of a pawn shop as he passed it. He only had fifteen minutes left for his break; no way would he be able to see Laurie now. And if he had to clean up the shop after it closed, he would barely have enough time to make it to see Ozymandias after work. He could visit Laurie after talking to Ozymandias, of course. He felt like a bastard, though. For a moment he thought he heard a voice, that same voice he used for Rorschach.

You have to understand your priorities, it said. Walter hadn't said anything, though, and that voice hadn't just been in his head, had it? Let me take the lead for once, I'll show you how things can be done.

"No," said Walter. Leave me alone, he thought.

Walter heard nothing after that, but in his mind he thought there was the faint sound of bitter laughter.

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To be continued...