Rorschach's Journal, March 21st, 2009

Rorschach’s Journal, 1:56pm, Saturday

Having learned my lesson about Libraries and Sundays, I made sure I was at the Library today rather than tomorrow. Needed to research Sandra Whitaker. Perhaps the infernal computer had her address listed somewhere. Though I was never the technical type, I found it a necessary evil to at least learn the basics of computers, since these days things depended more and more on them.

Also surprised the Library allowed me to carry my sign in. Though, most of the times had to check it at desk. I wandered in, with Walter Kovacs’ Doomsday disguise.

“Hello Mr. Nigh!” A woman shouted. She looked my way. “The computers are open.” It was friendly librarian Miss Dorian of New Jersey, smiles and customer service.

“Thanks.” I said, grimly, and signed the log in sheet.

“Oh, Mr. Kovacs is your name. Good to have a name with a face.” She smiled.

I left my sign with her and got to work with the computer. It was easy enough, just click on the link to get started and go to Google. The maze began at that point, however. People Search, White pages, Google People, Yahoo People. No, no, not personals. Argh, no not men seeking men. I planted a fist on the table.

For a moment I sat starting at the screen, frustrated.

“Erm, Mr. Kovacs, Maybe I can help. “ Miss Dorian approached. I looked up at her with a frown.

“Trying to look up someone. Need address.” I said as I scooted back in the chair.

She took over the mouse and Keyboard, “Ok, I know just the place.” She clicked twice and suddenly the screen revealed a search engine as if by magic. “Let’s see, you have a name and a city? That’s a good start.”
“Sandra Whitaker, Washington DC.” I scratched my head, “I think Washington DC.”

Dorian tapped the keyboard a few moments, “You’re not from around here, I can tell.” She said making small conversation.

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re from New York. Small world huh? I’m from Atlantic City. We’re neighbors!” She laughed, “I spent a lot of time in New York, I practically consider myself a New Yorker! What brings you here?”

A question I felt uncomfortable to answer. “Long story.”

She looked at me a moment. She seemed very genuine, “Rorschach, not everyone is a deviant.” I reminded myself without speaking it out loud.

“Oh I’m sorry, you know, I’m still upset about the explosion too. Even after all these years. How awful. I remember the whole thing. All those poor people.” She said, “I’m so happy that Veidt got the punishment he deserves. Who would have thought that a simple journal in a tabloid newspaper would reveal the whole horrible plot?”

“Have you read the journal?” I questioned, allowing myself a moment of pride.

“I sure have, the day they were printed!”
“Those were printed in the 80s surely you weren’t old enough…”

“Flatterer.” She laughed, “I’m a 60s child. I wear it well.” She laughed. “Besides, everyone has read that journal!” She said as she smiled, “Brave guy, I wonder if he lived.” She clicked another button, “here she is Ms. Sandra Whitaker. You’re right, it’s a DC address.” She paused, “That name sounds familiar.”

“Eh, thank you Miss Dorian, for your help.” I wanted to distract her from figuring out that this was the art maven she’d looked up for me.

“Any time for a fellow New Yorker!” She smiled as she left me to the computer.

I was ready to leave with the address written down, but then thought a moment. I wondered if I could recreate her steps and look up other addresses. I had more time left on the computer, and I didn’t have to be anywhere until later, to confront Whitaker. Why not?

“Dan Dreiberg.” I typed, “Los Angeles, CA.” Nothing. I typed in a few other cities, however, still nothing. Probably living under assumed name. Dan had left me a way to contact him, but that was years ago and the number he had given me didn’t work any longer.

Then searched New Frontiersman online. It was printed in their paper edition that they had an online paper as well. Interesting articles. Not long enough. Doesn’t anyone these days have a decent attention span anymore?

Shrugging, I rose and turned from the computer. Visited Miss Dorian one more time to collect my sign.

“Have a good day Mr. Kovacs!” She said after me.

“You too.” I said plainly as I walked out of the library armed with sign and with information on Murderess, Sandra Whitaker. Will pay her a visit soon.

Wandering streets, wondering if Shari is in a safe place. Wondering if her mother knows where her friend lives.

For now, Rorschach