Rorschach's Journal, March 19th, 2009

Rorschach’s Journal, 11:30pm. News reports throughout the evening regarding Michelangelo Exhibit. Item identified as fake. New Frontiersman was right. Study for 'The Libyan Sibyl'. Apparently, easier to fake a sketch rather than oil painting or sculpture. Where was original? Where is J.S. Riley? Needed answers.

Wandering the streets of DC in true form. Most gaze confused. Some give me latitude. Others too preoccupied with selves to notice. Passed a few whores on street corner. A few proposition. I ignore. For a moment. Then turn back to talk, “Looking for Jace. “

“Dang you sound sexy under that mask!” The prostitute complimented in vain.

“Jace. Have no last name. Art lover.”

“Sure, honey, I know Jace.” Another prostitute walked up. “He usually hangs out at Benders down on U street. Got a score to settle with him? Tell him he owes me money for a BJ.” She laughed as she tried to place a hand on my lapel.

I back up sharply, “Benders on U. Good evening.” I turned, stuffed my hands in my trench coat pockets and wandered in the direction of U Street.

“Hey! Hey jerk!” The women shouted after me, but to no avail.

Didn’t take long to get to Benders. Not far from U in first place. Getting on to be about 11:50. Dark place on outside, but laughter and noise spewed forth from every open crack in building. Got to front door. Bouncer outside. Large man. Bones break just as easily as anyone else's. Quickly take him down with crack to the knee and elbow to jaw.

Throw open doors to bar. Wall of noise assaults, but for a moment shouting stops.

“What the F**k is this?” A shout as I approach a clump of men near the bar.

“Name’s Rorschach. Looking for Jace…” All laugh until one comes up too close behind me. Unprovoked I pause to break his jaw with one good swing. Then turned back. Stunned silence blanketed the room. “Still looking for Jace. If you’d like to go home intact, suggest you tell me.”

One very tall man approached, “You are one brave man, I’ll tell you that.” He smiled at me, showing a gold tooth, “But stupid. I heard your name before. Ror-schach. Walter whatever the F**K your name is. My old man talked about you a while. Thought you was bad ass up in New York City. Even after you went to Sing Sing.” He puffed his chest, “But I ain’t afraid of you. You ain’t nothin’.” He said, “Ugly son of a bitch.”

I stood, unmoving, “Flattery will get you no where. Still looking for Jace.”

“See, I spent time in lock up. I know how it works. “ he pounded his chest, “I maimed a man for jus lookin’ funny at me.” He laughed as his bravado expanded. He looked back at his friends, cocky.

I stepped forward swiftly, grabbed his right hand, violently twisted his arm and forced him down on his knees with speed. With my knee on his spine, I pulled back a finger and snapped it. The cracking sound quieted his friends. “Lock up not the same as Penitentiary. Did your father ever tell you how I escaped Penitentiary? Killed 10 men. Bare hands. How about you?” I snapped another finger.

The man screamed loudly. “Oh shit oh shit, man you broke my fingers! Let me go!” tears streamed down his face as with his other hand he waived at his gang and then flailed at me.

About 5 guns pointed at me. I looked up, and from behind my black and white patterned face coolly stated, “He has 10 fingers. When I run out, I work my way up the arm. You cannot shoot me without hitting him. So I would choose wisely.”

“Hey hey! What the hell?” Another voice came rushing up and pushed the others aside. “What? What is this?” It was Jace, with his little girlfriend, the one who took a liking to Walter. She cupped her hand over her mouth to scream.

I thew the arrogant man to the floor, “We were just having a little chat. Seems no one wanted to tell me how to find you.”

“Oh God, I….” Jace looked at me, stunned, “What the hell do you want?” He said as he helped up the crying man.

“I need to know about the stolen artwork and J.S. Riley.” I said, “I suggest you tell me.”

“I need to tell you nuthin’ I…”

“Baby, J.S. Riley, that’s my….”

“Shut up Shari.” With one motion Jace back handed his girlfriend. Shari laid sprawled on the floor holding her face, blood oozing from the corner of her lip.

With the same motion as with the other man, I too grabbed Jace’s hand and swiftly brought him to his knees. This was either almost too easy or they were just too stupid. I pulled his arm to an odd angle and grabbed his thumb. “Shouldn’t hit girlfriend, Jace. “

“Wait, wait, waiwaiwai, Ow!” His thumb snapped.

“J.S. Riley is my father. He’s been missing for the last week.” Shari stood up, crying.

“What did you do with Riley.” I demanded.

Jace started crying as well as I grabbed another finger. “I killed him, ok? God Damn!” He cried. “I’m sorry baby, but I had to.” He said to Shari.

“Oh God! You bastard!” Shari said and ran to kick Jace in the face. I held up my hand for her to stop.

“Why did you kill him?” I got no response. “The ambulance is coming soon. Unless you want to leave here in body bag rather than on that ambulance I suggest you start talking.” I readied the next finger for breaking.

“Ok ok, Sandra Whitaker, the rich bitch with that damned art show. She paid me to! Arrrrggghhh. Knew I was runnin' with her daughter and the kind of connections I had. He gave me a tube and told me to give it to her and then I kilt him. I swear, don’t break another finger, please, I’m begging you. Please!” He said, in humiliation.

I dropped the man and turned, “Thanks for your cooperation. Will be dropping in from time to time.” I then took the woman’s arm, “Come. Quickly as you can.” I dragged her.

Outside the bar I stopped, “Suggest you stay with a girlfriend tonight. Do not go back home.”

Shari collapsed to her knees, “Jace killed my dad. And mom paid him to do it.” She sobbed uncontrollably. “Oh God, what’ll I do?”

The sound of sirens drew closer. Foolish of them to have called the police, the bar reeked of Marijuana and they all carried pistols.

“We need to leave, right now. You cannot be seen here.”

“I’m no better than any of them! Andrea I can call Andrea.” She laid down flat on her back and wailed. I stood there, suddenly feeling helpless.

“You didn’t’ know. Your mistake was associating with them, but you were not responsible. Shari, I assume your last name is Riley?”

“No, it’s same as mom’s, Whitaker.” She wiped her face with her sleeve.

“Miss Whitaker, I cannot take you with me. You must leave on your own. You cannot be seen with me either. Go to a girlfriend’s house.” I backed away but she followed. The sirens were getting closer now. “Very well, but be very quiet.” I said as I grabbed her wrist and we sprinted down one of the back alleys and snaked around to S street. She slowed me down, considerably, but she was obedient.

“It’s ok now Mister. I’ll call Andrea now.” She said sadly as she pulled out her cell phone and dialed. She continued to speak to me as she waited for the phone to ring, “You seem familiar, do I know you?” Shari said as she wiped away tears.

“No, you don’t.” I backed up when she started speaking on the phone. When she turned to look at me, I had gone.

For now, Rorschach