Maria stumbled back several steps, her once fair face now drained of all color, ghostly pale.
Her eyes were wide with terror as she stared at the cop in front of her, clearly rattled by the way Rorschach's attitude had flipped in an instant.
"Does killing make you feel good?" Rorschach asked in a low voice.
The blood-red mist above this student's head was quietly darkening, edging toward black. And in the judgment of the Eye, anyone with black mist overhead was a felon who needed to be executed on the spot.
"Looks like those three kids at school were yours too. Plus your unlucky father."
Rorschach suddenly thought of something and let out a mocking laugh. "A hockey stick? You can beat someone to death with that thing?"
"…"
Maria said nothing, but her pupils shrank hard and her fingers wouldn't stop trembling, her panic written all over her.
She shook her head wildly, her voice sharp and frantic. "You're framing me! My father was killed by a burglar. When he died, my mother and I were at the supermarket. It's all on camera!"
"Is that so? From where I'm standing, that's just a clumsy attempt at a fake alibi."
Rorschach pointed at the sheet-covered body on the floor, his tone flat. "If I'm right, your father died at least two hours earlier than the M.E.'s preliminary estimate."
"It was still dark then. A rebellious teenage girl gets into a fight with her nagging father. In a fit of rage, she grabs the fruit knife next to her and slits his throat."
"As for why she dares to kill, that's simple. At school, she's already had three students to practice on."
"But this time is different. This time there's a witness—her mother."
"The girl thought her mother, with her anxiety, would blow up and scream at her. But to her surprise, Mom stayed very calm."
"She soothed her daughter first, then used her medical training to do a rough cleanup and shoved the body into the freezer, slowing decomposition, throwing the coroners off on time of death, and giving the two of them an alibi window."
He snorted. "You two aren't exactly stupid. But you're not nearly careful enough. You kept the skin temperature looking like a fresh corpse, sure—but your father's frozen ear lobes and the condensation behind them gave everything away. In a few hours tops, the M.E. will lock down the real time of death and your alibi is toast."
Maria's expression slowly went blank, her eyes filling with raw fear.
Watching her, Rorschach actually felt a flicker of doubt. With a psyche this fragile, was she really a serial killer?
"This has nothing to do with me!" Maria still refused to admit anything, her voice high and strained. "What if that broke, desperate thief did it on purpose, huh? Yeah. He wanted to frame me and my mother. That's why he put the body in the freezer, then dragged it back out."
Rorschach just shook his head. "Forget how flimsy that sounds for a second. Poor? Thief? Robber?"
He let his gaze sweep over the multi-story mansion dripping with luxury, then at the rich girl in front of him in head-to-toe designer labels, still wearing light makeup even after her father's death.
"Do you have any idea what a poor person's life actually looks like?" he asked quietly.
Before she could answer, he went on. "You think someone so broke he's risking his neck breaking into a rich neighborhood is going to leave with just whatever cash he finds?"
"You know what that row of sterling silver cutlery in your kitchen would go for in the projects? You think once he's emptied your dad's wallet, he's going to look at that LV leather wallet and decide not to take it? Oh, and this."
Rorschach pointed at the cabinet full of prescription tranquilizers. "Any one of these bottles would fetch a few hundred bucks in the South Side."
He spread his hands and gave a crooked smile. "You don't understand poor people. You don't understand what a cornered thief looks like. If a burglar had really been here, you think all that would still be sitting pretty where it is?"
Maria had no answer.
She woke up every day in a house the size of a small hotel, went to a private school that cost more than two hundred grand a year, and got her allowance on a check. How the hell would she know poor people steal silverware and pills?
In the end, it was money that tripped her up.
Her eyes drifted back to Rorschach.
And then something he did not expect happened.
The fragile, helpless girl from seconds ago suddenly sharpened. Her lowered head lifted, revealing a long, pale neck like a swan's.
Her entire aura flipped in an instant.
The confusion and fear vanished from her face, replaced by a playful gleam as she looked at Rorschach, as if she were the hunter and he the prey.
Clack… clack…
Her heels tapped deliberately across the floor as she walked up to him, each step firm and precise.
"So…"
Maria smiled and lifted a finger, lightly brushing his chin. "Officer, are you planning to arrest me now?"
Their faces were close enough that Rorschach could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin.
Her whole demeanor had turned wild and shameless in a heartbeat. His brow twitched.
Split personality?
Christ. The girl came with a built‑in get‑out‑of‑jail‑free card.
He swatted her hand away and spoke in a businesslike tone. "The autopsy report will be out before tonight. When it is, your alibi goes down with it. As for the weapon, unless you melted it, we'll find it. Your work's way too sloppy. Sit tight at home. Within a week, you'll be indicted for murder. Though looking at your mental state, I'd suggest finding a good lawyer. Might even score yourself a medical furlough."
He turned to leave.
In a case like this, once you nailed down the prime suspect, it was just a matter of digging in her direction until you hit hard proof. It would take time, nothing more.
Maria, however, grabbed his arm, one hand already creeping toward his belt.
She leaned against his shoulder, breath hot and ragged. "But I can't wait that long to be caught, Officer Rorschach. Arrest me. Please. Come on… arrest me~"
Rorschach stared at her blankly, like she was a tweaker in a club bathroom.
If this was not an act, Maria clearly had two distinct personalities.
One timid, fragile, insecure, hypersensitive. The other the complete opposite—cold, vicious, vindictive… and, frankly, a slut.
Now it seemed likely the two dead male students had also been seduced and then killed.
"Drop the act. I'm not interested in half-baked kids," he said, shoving her away.
Maria only slid right back in front of him, smiling, eyes cold as ice.
"Don't you want to know why I did it?" she asked his back.
"I'm not a shrink. Don't need to hear your tragic bullying story," Rorschach said without turning around.
Maria blinked. This was the first time she had ever met a cop like this.
Then she tried again, voice softer. "Can you at least not tell my mother what you just said? She doesn't know the police suspect us yet. Just… give me a little face, okay? I'll make it worth your while."
At that, Rorschach finally turned and looked at her. "Give you face? You're a bitch. What face do you think you have?"
"…"
Maria could only watch his back as he walked away.
For some reason, though, she had a feeling.
It would not be long before they met again.
And when they did, everything would be very, very different.
If you're enjoying the book, please keep reading and, if it's not too much trouble, toss in a vote. The pace will pick up from here—the groundwork's almost laid.
(End of Chapter)
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