I told you I was still working on it. I know this part is short, but I have to work when I get the time. Comments welcome, and I hope people haven't completely forgotten the story.
Supercop II: the Black Knight -- 7/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
When she walked into her house, forty minutes later, Norma was still thinking about her new and fascinating theory - so much so that she didn't notice the blue car that was pulled up against the curb halfway down the block. But she did notice the small, tasteful bouquet of flowers sitting mockingly in the middle of her kitchen table - something that she was certain hadn't been there last night when she and Neil had left.
She stared at it in shock for several minutes before she moved forward to open the folded note that lay beside it.
"Surprise," she read.
There was no signature.
**********
And now, Part 7:
Henderson had just closed his cell phone when it chimed again, playing the incongruously cheerful music from the Chinese Dance in the Nutcracker. Henderson didn't know the name of it, but he'd always liked the music. He flipped it open with a sense of resignation. He'd been using the instrument almost continuously for the last forty minutes. "Henderson."
"Bill?" It was Norma Randall's voice. "Have you had time to run that license yet?"
"I've got Cindy on it," Henderson said, frowning at the tremor in Norma's usually calm voice. "What's wrong?"
"I just walked into my house," she said. "There's a bouquet of flowers sitting in the middle of my kitchen table. And an unsigned note."
"I take it your husband didn't leave them," Henderson said. He got to his feet and headed out the door of his office. In his experience, Norma wasn't easily frightened. Maybe it was time the Black Knight took a hand - in his alter-ego of Inspector Henderson, of course.
"I dropped Neil off at the airport last night," Norma said. "No one's supposed to have been here since yesterday."
"Give me your address," Henderson said.
Norma gave it. Henderson stepped out the rear exit of the Precinct. "I'm only a few blocks away. I'll be right there." He shut off his phone and, an instant later, the Black Knight was in the air.
He took his time, relatively speaking, so that Inspector Henderson could reasonably manage to make it to Norma's house from several streets away. The Knight dropped into a space between two houses where no windows provided anyone with a view of something he shouldn't see, and a moment later, Inspector Henderson was knocking on Norma Randall's door.
He heard her footsteps inside the house and then a long pause while she checked through the peephole. The door opened.
"Bill -- I mean, Inspector! That was fast."
"I was only a few blocks away," he said. "You sounded a little -- upset, so I thought I'd better hurry."
"I'm probably over-reacting," Norma said, sounding a little ashamed of herself. "Cops aren't supposed to be rattled by stuff like this."
"Why not?" Henderson said. "Cops are human, too. Let's see this bouquet, and the note."
"They're in the kitchen," Norma said. "I'm afraid my fingerprints are probably on the note. I picked it up by the edges, though."
"Well, we'll see what we find," Henderson said. "Do you have a plastic bag I can put it in? I'm going to have Forensics look at it. What worries me, though, is the guy that was watching you last night and now this. It's starting to look like it might not have been just a random incident after all."
Norma swallowed. "You think it might not be a coincidence?"
"I don't believe in that kind of coincidence," Henderson said. "Coincidences are usually harmless. This looks more like design. Tell me, have there been any other 'odd' things that have happened in the last few days?"
"Well --" Norma hesitated, and Henderson's instincts went on alert.
"What?" he asked.
"Well, I doubt there's any connection, but --"
"Why don't you let me decide that?" Henderson said. "What happened?"
She nodded. "All right. I guess you're the detective. Yesterday, when I got home from work ...."
Henderson was silent, frowning slightly as Norma related the distinctly odd events of the previous morning. At the conclusion, he asked, "Did you clean off the doorknob?"
Norma stopped, obviously trying to recall. "No, I don't think I did. Neil and I have both touched it since, though."
"Yeah," Henderson said, "but there might still be some residue left. If there is, Forensics will be able to tell us what it is. If it's jelly or something, you can relax." He turned and bent, examining the doorknob. There was something there: in three places he could see a faint brownish crusting that would be barely visible to the naked eye. Henderson trained his microscopic vision on it and the picture expanded before his eyes.
It was dried blood, all right -- at least, Henderson was 99% certain that was what it was. He straightened up. "There's something still there." He flipped open his cellular phone. "I'm going to put in a call to the lab boys -- and you and I are going to stand right here so no ghost can come along and make it disappear before they get here."
Norma bit her lip. "I guess I should have told you about this before."
Henderson shook his head. "You had no reason to think it was important, then. No one would have been likely to think anything of it if this other stuff hadn't happened. It still may be nothing. Let's just wait until we see what the lab boys have to say. They can check out the note and vase at the same time, although I doubt we'll find anything there. The guy would be a fool not to wear gloves, dropping it off in your kitchen this way." He hit the speed dial and waited for a moment. "Yes, this is Henderson ...
**********
"That's pretty much it," Jimmy Olsen said. "Basically whenever anybody wants something, you go get it. That's why you're called a gofer. You gofer donuts, you gofer coffee, you gofer pencils and paper --"
"I think I get it," Mary Owens said, with a faint smile. "I guess you did this for a while, huh?"
"Yeah." Mary was a pretty woman, just about his age, Jimmy thought. She had a nice smile and the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. "I was on the bottom of the food chain while I went to school part time. I finally got my AA in journalism in June. Now I'm officially a photojournalist for the paper. That makes it all worthwhile. Can you handle a computer?"
"Yes, I can. I was a computer science major at our local community college."
"Well, that's good. Ms. Lane and Mr. Kent'll probably want you to do some research for them sometimes. I still do it for them a lot."
"You work with Lois Lane and Clark Kent?" Mary's eyes widened.
"Sure," Jimmy said. "They're pretty cool people."
Mary smiled hesitantly at him. "I guess you really love the newspaper business, don't you?"
"Yeah," Jimmy said. "I've wanted to be a newspaperman since my sixth grade class went on a field trip to the Daily Planet."
"It must be nice to be so certain of what you want," Mary said.
"I wasn't always. For a while I was sure I wasn't going to make it," Jimmy said. "Didn't you ever want something so badly you could almost taste it?"
"Once." Her expression changed and, for a moment, she looked lost.
"I'm sorry," Jimmy said quickly.
"No, it's all right." She pasted a smile on her face. "I made a mistake a while back and lived to regret it, but it's done with. If I have any questions, do you mind if I ask you for help?"
"Not a bit," Jimmy said. "I'll be glad to help. Come on. I'll show you where we keep all the supplies, now, and Perry said to give you my old desk. My old computer's got a lot of programs you might want to keep -- or get rid of if you have something better for the purpose. This way."
"All right." Mary followed him meekly toward the storeroom. Jimmy opened the door.
"This is it. Nothing unusual. Just the standard supplies." He pointed. "Pencils, pens, notepaper, printer paper -- all the stuff that gets used in a newsroom. You'll probably get a lot of acquaintance with this place."
"Probably," she said with another smile. "I guess I'm on the bottom of the food chain, now."
"Not for long if you can show Mr. White that you want to do more," Jimmy said firmly. "Come on and I'll introduce you to Lois Lane. Clark ran out of here a while ago -- he always seems to know when there's a breaking story, but you can meet him when he gets back."
Lois glanced up from her desk as they approached. "Hi, Jimmy. What's up?"
"This is Mary Owens," Jimmy told her. "She's taking my old job."
"I heard," Lois said. "The office grapevine is right on the ball today." She stood up and extended a hand. "Glad to meet you, Mary. I have to meet a source across town in half an hour, so I'd better go. I'm waiting for a fax from Bolivia. If it comes in while I'm out, put it on my desk, would you?" She picked up her recorder. "See you later; and don't forget what I told you, Jimmy."
"Huh?" Jimmy asked.
"About the raise," she said, and headed for the door with restrained haste.
"Oh," Jimmy said as she vanished through the door to the stairs.
"Raise?" Mary asked, timidly.
"Oh," Jimmy said. "My power got shut off because I wasn't able to pay my bill on time. All the food in my fridge spoiled."
"That's terrible!" Mary said. "Well, if Ms. Lane thinks you should ask for a raise, maybe you should."
"I'm thinking about it."
"Perry told me not to tell you, but he said you're the office computer guru," Mary said in a lower voice. "I think he values you more than you realize."
Jimmy looked thoughtfully at her. It sounded to him as if Mary knew Perry White better than she was admitting. There was some kind of mystery here. Maybe he could figure out what it was, but in the meantime, for once, he was going to take somebody else's advice and throw caution to the winds. "I'll be right back," he said. "I'm going to go see him."
**********
As might have been expected, the place that Bobby Bigmouth had specified for their second meeting of the day was next door to a restaurant. The snitch was munching on an egg roll as Lois turned the corner and stepped into the alley behind Ho Chang's Mongolian Barbecue. Bobby waved a hand vaguely in her direction and swallowed convulsively. "Hi again," he greeted her. "You got my lunch?"
She held up the bag but didn't hand it over. "A deli sandwich, macaroni salad, and raspberry torte for dessert. Have you got *anything* substantial on this character?"
"Not much," Bobby said. "The word on the street is that he's new in town, from somewhere in New York, maybe around Albany or Auburn. Arrived about three months ago, or thereabouts. Remember, these are just rumors."
"I guess it makes sense, though," Lois said. "The first assault was about three months ago. Is that it?"
"Maybe not," Bobby said. "He might drive a blue car. A homeless guy I know was sleeping in an alley on the street where the victim last week lived. He said he saw a blue car parked on the corner about the time it must have happened. He'd just finished a bottle of somethin' a while before, though, so he couldn't swear to anything for sure. He never talked to the cops, though. Didn't even know about it 'til he read it in the Planet."
"Since when do the homeless read the Planet?" Lois asked.
"He'd fished it out of the trash to sleep on," Bobby explained. "Joe used to be a cook at Le Petit Cafe, 'til he got caught drinking the cooking wine. He likes to read the news before going to sleep."
That figured. "Anything else?"
Bobby shook his head. "Nope. That was the most I could find out. He's not really likely to advertise himself, you know."
"Yeah," Lois said sourly. "Well, that's better than nothing, I suppose." Reluctantly, she handed him the paper bag. "If you find out anything more, call me right away."
"You got it," Bobby said. "Are you into really vague rumors?"
"That depends," Lois said. "Is it just speculation or is there any truth in it?"
Bobby shrugged. "I dunno. The guy I was talkin' to said he'd heard that maybe he might have worked in a night club or something as a sound guy."
"You mean, a musician?"
"No, the guy that handles the audio equipment. The mikes and speakers and stuff."
"Oh, I see," Lois said. "Okay, thanks."
"Remember, that part's just a maybe," Bobby cautioned. "Not really even a rumor. I'm just passing it along for what it's worth."
"I know. I'll keep it in mind," Lois said. "If you hear anything else, let me know right away. This rapist has to be stopped. Henderson says he thinks it's only a matter of time before he kills somebody."
"Yeah, I know," Bobby said. "I'll do my best."
"I don't suppose the person you talked to could give you a name," Lois said.
"'Fraid not," Bobby said. "I'll see what else I can find out, but don't bet the farm on it."
"Why do I bother to ask," Lois muttered to herself as she turned down an intersecting alley. A few instants later, Ultra Woman flashed upward and vanished in the direction of the Daily Planet.
**********
"He actually gave me a raise!" Jimmy knew there was a slight note of incredulity in his voice, but he couldn't help it. His foray into Perry White's office had produced results far beyond his expectations. Perry had listened to his speech, rubbed the angle of his jaw while frowning deeply as he thought over the request and then he'd grinned. "Jimmy, I think you're overdue for a raise," he said. Jimmy had consciously kept his mouth closed, even though the muscles of his jaw had wanted to completely relax in shock.
"Congratulations," Mary said, smiling. "Unc -- Mr. White's bark is a lot worse than his bite."
"Yeah, I've heard that, but I've never seen any evidence of it before," Jimmy said. "Thanks for telling me what he said about me. I wouldn't have had the nerve if you hadn't."
"You're welcome," Mary said, a little shyly. "You didn't tell him what I said, did you?"
"Of course not," Jimmy said. "You asked me not to." He grinned sideways at her. "Want to go out for a hamburger after work, just to celebrate?"
She hesitated and then shrugged. "Sure; why not?"
"Great! I know this little place over on 'K' Street that makes the best chiliburgers you ever tasted. You know how to tell a great chiliburger?"
She shook her head. "How?"
"By how many napkins you use up while you're eating it!" Jimmy said, triumphantly. "This place supplies 'em by the bushel."
"Sounds wonderful," Mary agreed. "I haven't had a good chiliburger in years. All right."
"They also have chilidogs, chili fries and chili tamales," Jimmy assured her. "If you like chili, it's your kind of place."
"Do you have a car?" she asked. "I came on the bus."
"My car's in the shop," Jimmy said. "I rode my motorbike this morning. Even ridden one?"
Mary shook her head, looking doubtful. "No."
"That's okay. It's perfectly safe. I have an extra helmet in my locker."
"We...ll ..." Mary hesitated and then nodded again. "All right. I'll trust you, just this once."
Jimmy grinned happily at her.
**********
tbc
