Table of contents is here .


LAST TIME ON EMII:

Tierney stared at him for long seconds, then, finally committed, she nodded once and said, "Okay. Where do you want me to begin?"

CJ ran his fingers backwards through his hair as he marshalled his thoughts.

This wasn't like a trial. He hadn't had time to prepare; he hadn't had time to map out his questions and to plan for all contingencies. He felt out of his element, as though he was floundering in uncharted waters.

Then again, at least he wasn't in Tierney's position of having been cast into the role of witness, or even defendant.

He wished Lois was here to help him. She probably did stuff like this every day.

Thinking about Lois gave him confidence. Odd, he thought, how he could draw strength simply from the thought of her.

He took a deep breath then began to talk.

NOW READ ON...


CHAPTER FIFTEEN


Wanting to put Tierney at her ease, CJ started by asking easy questions, ones to which, thanks to Lois's article, he already knew the answers. That his chosen course of action allowed him time to feel his way into the conversation and assess Tierney's sincerity and willingness to provide information were added bonuses. Mayson listened in silence as, in response to his gentle probing, Tierney confessed to her part in the jury-rigging of the Allen trial.

Then CJ ventured into slightly less familiar territory and asked whether Luthor's people had corrupted juries before – whether that particular technique was employed often.

"Not often, no," Tierney said, shaking her head briefly. "At least, I don't think so. It's complicated and risky, and if it was used too often, people would notice. Mind you, you noticed anyway, didn't you?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "It's only used occasionally, and only for special clients. You know, favoured individuals. The ones Luthor values. And against particularly troublesome judges and prosecutors." CJ thought he caught a glimpse of the faintest hint of a wry smile as she added, "You know, one's like Diggs and like you," before her features locked back into an immobile and desolate expression.

CJ raised his eyebrows, filing away the backhanded compliment. Luthor thought he was troublesome, did he? He found that knowledge very satisfying. Then, pushing the personal matter aside, he concentrated on the rest of Tierney's statement. "So Luthor thinks Allen is important?"

"Sure." Tierney said the word as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

CJ had known, or had suspected very strongly, which was almost the same thing where Luthor was concerned, that Allen was one of Luthor's lieutenants, but he had had no way of knowing what his precise role within Luthor's empire was. Allen held a high rank within the corporation – that much was obvious – but his official job title, Senior Vice President (Procurement and Expenditure) was not particularly informative. Bearing that in mind, CJ's next questions were natural. "Why? What does Allen do for Luthor that's so special?"

To his surprise, CJ saw that Tierney had to think about that, and he was left with the impression that, like himself, she had accepted the fact of Allen's involvement with Luthor's criminal activities without understanding the whys and wherefores attached to it. "It's silly," she said finally. "It's not just, or even mainly, because of anything Allen does, I don't think. It's because he's the brother of one of Luthor's mistresses. Actually, Allen was lucky the case came to trial when it did because, when she falls out of favour, so will he, and Luthor never keeps his mistresses for long. It's not as simple as Allen having a key role in the organisation, although I gather he does work for Luthor."

There was bitterness in Tierney's voice, and it crossed CJ's mind to consider whether Tierney had, herself, been one of Luthor's women, or whether her reaction stemmed from a more general disapproval of his brand of philandering behaviour. However, Tierney's next comments called both suppositions into doubt.

"It's the strangest thing, though," she said, veering off at a tangent. "Luthor's women all remain loyal to him for months – sometimes years – after he's thrown them aside. He treats them like trash, but it just makes them even more determined to prove themselves to him."

CJ nodded, realising the truth of that statement. Nowhere in any of his files had the matter been articulated quite so clearly as Tierney had just managed to do, but the evidence was nonetheless there. He recognised the pattern of behaviour Tierney was describing: two very obvious examples – Gretchen Kelly and Ariana Carlin – from the other world came to mind immediately.

"And you know this because...?" he asked.

Tierney shrugged. "Observation," she said. "Nothing more than that." Then, apparently deciding that more explanation might be in order, she added, "One of our senior partners dated him for a while, a few years ago. It was all over the tabloids at the time." At CJ's look of surprise, she said, "You didn't know? Barbara Benton went out with Luthor for about six months. His affair with her lasted longer than most, and some gossip columnists even hinted that they might get married." Somewhat unnecessarily, she added, "They didn't though."

"Am I to gather from what you just said that Benton's still doing whatever he wants," inquired CJ, "even though they're not together any more?"

Tierney nodded. "She'd go back to him in a heartbeat, if he'd have her."

CJ marvelled for a moment at Luthor's power over women then backtracked, returning to Allen. "What kind of stuff is Allen involved in? For Luthor, I mean."

Tierney indicated that she wasn't sure but that she'd heard rumours about drugs and money laundering, protection rackets and take-overs. CJ could see that he wasn't going to get anything definite about Allen from Tierney, but he made a mental note to investigate him further when he had the opportunity.

Then, in response to CJ's quiet interrogation and Mayson's encouragement, Tierney spoke of other trials gone awry, some in which she'd been involved, and others about which she'd heard rumours. CJ recognised some of them because he had been an unwitting actor in them. Most he had realised had been tampered with in some way, but some came as a surprise, even to him. Guilty parties had been acquitted and innocents had been convicted.

CJ, realising that his brain couldn't hold the flood of information it was receiving, fetched a bright yellow legal pad and a pen, and frantically began to scribble down names. He frowned as the full extent to which Metropolis's legal system had become corrupted emerged. This was worse than he had ever imagined, and what he had imagined had been bad enough. People at all levels from janitors up to judges were implicated. It would take months – possibly years – to put it right.

Mayson, CJ couldn't help but notice, was looking shell-shocked at what they were hearing. From her expression, CJ realised that most of what Tierney was telling them was new to her, and he felt compelled to say, "You two hadn't discussed any of this before?"

"No. I had no idea. I mean, we..." Mayson shook her head, aborting the thought. "Rosie turned up on my doorstep last night. I admit I was surprised because last time we talked..."

"We argued," interjected Tierney. CJ kept his face carefully neutral; he'd known about their disagreement already, but there was no way he was going to let on that he'd overheard that particular conversation. "I don't think Mayson expected to hear from me again. And it took a while for me to convince her that I was on the level."

Mayson chewed on her lower lip, looking slightly embarrassed, presumably at having doubted her friend. "Once she did convince me, we spent hours discussing what she could do to... you know... try to dig herself out of the hole she's in," Mayson said. "We never got into the details of what she actually knew."


*****************
Monday 5 May, 1997
*****************

Lois, fuelled by a potent mix of adrenaline and caffeine, had worked steadily as the clock's hands nudged towards, then past, midnight. The material she'd put together was good, no doubt about it.

She eyed the telephone, wondering whether it would be inappropriate to call CJ at three a.m.. True, it was an antisocial hour, but she didn't think that CJ would want to wait any longer than absolutely necessary to hear her news. Certainly, she didn't want to have to wait until morning to tell him. Then, realising that it already was morning, she amended the thought; she didn't want to wait until daylight.

Just on the basis of the articles she'd written, she'd managed to identify five stories that had not made it into other papers. What, she wondered, would she uncover if she looked into the articles written by other Planet reporters?

True, three of the stories she'd identified had been tagged with the ever-desirable label of "exclusive", so no comparable pieces should have appeared on the same date as her originals. But exclusives seldom stayed that way for long; rival papers frequently picked up a story after its initial appearance, running follow-ups and op ed pieces that built upon material presented in the original article.

That had happened in none of the examples she'd identified, the first of which related to the corruption of police officers in the Metro South precinct. The second dealt with organised prostitution in Suicide Slum, the third with vote rigging in the Mayoral elections, and the fourth with the involvement of baggage handlers at Metropolis Airport in a drugs running operation.

It was the fifth, and final, case that intrigued her most, however.

She'd mentioned Toni Taylor to CJ on the first evening they'd spent together, right here in her living room, in fact. She'd remembered, and had told him, that Taylor had been killed, but time had blunted her memory, and only as she'd reread her original article, along with the draft of another that the Planet's lawyers had pulled before it could reach print, had she recalled more specific details.

Toni Taylor had been seen in the company of Lex Luthor in the weeks running up to her take-over of the family "business", and then during the period leading up to her death. As ever, the tabloids had taken a great interest in Luthor's putative love life. Although he'd consistently denied being intimately involved with Taylor, paparazzi, furnished with long lenses, had managed to snatch photos of the couple sunbathing together on Luthor's yacht on more than one occasion.

When questioned about their relationship, Luthor had moved from "No comment" to "We were discussing business. I have an interest in the real estate of the West River district. Ms Taylor owns some property there, which I would like to acquire."

Maybe there hadn't been any romantic connection between Luthor and Taylor, although Lois doubted that was actually the case – she didn't think that Luthor knew the meaning of the word platonic, let alone how to apply it in practice – but the fact remained that they had known each other. Taylor had had something Luthor wanted, and she'd wound up dead.

More than that, though, Lois had wondered at the time whether there had been a heavy-weight bankrolling Toni Taylor's coup. How else had she managed to get brother Johnny's business associates to switch their allegiance to her? Certainly, it hadn't been on account of her experience, because at that time she hadn't had any. No matter what Toni Taylor had thought of Johnny's activities, they had been profitable – old-fashioned but effective. Why would anyone give up on a proven money-spinner to take a risk on someone as unknown as Toni Taylor?

Taylor must have got her guns and her ideas about how the rackets should be run from somewhere, and Lois was sure that it wasn't from the straight-laced Metropolis School of Business, where Toni Taylor had been an MBA student. And they certainly hadn't come from anyone within her immediate family.

But, and Lois knew she was reaching here, they might have come from Luthor. Certainly, corporate crime seemed very Luthoresque. And that was the story the Planet's lawyers had pulled.

Lois made a mental note to investigate the lawyers' activities. Were they in Luthor's pocket, too, or was their cowardice actually the real thing?

In the article the lawyers had scuppered, Lois had demanded that the police should consider motives for the killing that went beyond revenge for the ousting of her brother, the explanation they had favoured. Lois's take, which had been at odds with that adopted by the police, had been that someone – Luthor? – from outside the organisation had taken Toni Taylor out.

Certainly, once Taylor had been killed, nobody from the original Metro Gang had come forward to take her place. That there had been no heir-apparent to the Taylor crime empire certainly cast doubt on the idea that Toni Taylor had been killed to aide the succession.

No, the only person to benefit from her demise had been Luthor, who'd bought her real estate holdings from the executor's of her will at rock-bottom prices, and who had subsequently, through LexConstruction, started work on the waterfront development.

Lois had written extensively about the decimation of the West River community, but, as with her coverage of Taylor's death, there had been no matching coverage in the other papers.

Lois had told CJ that he could scratch Taylor's name off his list of suspects, but now she thought that she'd been premature to do so. True, the dead didn't make good witnesses, but what if Taylor hadn't just been one of Luthor's accomplices?

What if she had been a victim?

Lois eyed the phone again, then picked up the handset and began to dial.

*****

CJ eyed the phone, wondering whether it would be inappropriate to call Lois at three in the morning. True, it was an anti-social hour, but he didn't think that Lois would want to wait to hear about Tierney.

Although he and Mayson had finally persuaded Tierney to go to bed, they had stayed up a while longer, thrashing the implications of what she'd told them around. Finally, Mayson had also retreated into CJ's bedroom, leaving him alone in the living room. Yet again he went through the things he'd learned this evening.

First, everyone in Tierney's company, from senior partners down to typists, was suspect. Only a couple of recently appointed interns appeared to be above suspicion, but Tierney had made it obvious that they would be indoctrinated in the company's culture if they stuck around for more than a couple of months.

Second, he had a long list of miscarriages of justice that needed to be explored. As frustrating as the incorrect not-guilty verdicts were, he doubted he could do much about them, because of the state's double-jeopardy laws. The unfair guilty verdicts, however... Their recipients could take those to appeal and maybe a few of them would be overturned.

Third, he had another long list, this time of people within the justice system, who were on the take. CJ shook his head at that. As jaded as he'd become, even he found some of the names surprising.

Fourth, and finally, he had a list of Benton, Miller, Nowak and Associates' clients, who, in light of the company's activities, were also under suspicion.

The question was, what should he do next with all the leads that had suddenly, and fortuitously, fallen into his lap.

What CJ really wanted was another perspective on everything, one that he believed Lois could give him, because she looked at the world differently to him. He looked at it with an eye for legal detail; she, he'd begun to understand, looked at the broader picture. She saw the whole wood, when sometimes he was still lost in the trees.

He could hear the slow and even breathing of both his guests, and he knew that they were both asleep. It would be safe for him to phone.

He picked up the handset and dialled... and got the busy signal.

CJ frowned. What on earth could Lois be doing at 3 a.m.? Then he shrugged the nebulous feeling of disquiet away. Why was he fretting over such a tiny thing? Hadn't he, just minutes ago, been worrying about the possibility of waking her up? At least he hadn't needed to worry about that, because she clearly was up already... or was that still?

But who, he wondered, could she possibly be calling at three a.m. in the morning?

*****

Lois put the handset down. She'd wondered whether CJ would be put out at being woken up, but it hadn't occurred to her that the line would be busy.

True, she suspected that, thanks to his powers, he might need less sleep than other people, but who could he be talking to at three in the morning? Maybe he was on the computer, she thought. Yeah, that made more sense.

Seeing that he was already awake, she decided that she might as well go over to his place. She threw her notes into her satchel, picked up her laptop, and headed out to her Jeep.

Her stomach rumbled. Had she actually had supper? she wondered. Then she realised that she hadn't. She'd eaten some ice-cream, but that didn't really count.

She knew of an all-night takeaway that wouldn't take her too far out of her way, and she decided to pick up a couple of pizzas en route.

*****

This time, when CJ heard footsteps outside his apartment, he recognised Lois immediately. He grinned, delighted at her unexpected arrival.

His nose twitched. Was that pizza he smelled? Pizza with extra pepperoni, mushrooms, peppers and chillies? That woman, he thought, was amazing. She thought of everything, anticipating his needs even before he, himself, recognised them. He suddenly became aware that it had been hours since he'd eaten, and his stomach was aching to be filled.

He lowered his glasses and concentrated. Yes, there was Lois, laden down with her satchel, her laptop and not one, but two, pizza cartons.

For the second time that night, he jogged up to the front door and pulled it open.

Lois, caught in the act of juggling her various burdens so that she could knock, looked up at him. "How did you know I was out here?"

"I... uh... heard you coming," he said, unaccountably embarrassed.

"Oh, of course," said Lois, brushing the comment aside as though it was nothing out of the ordinary. CJ marvelled at the way Lois appeared to be more blasé about his powers than he, himself, was. "Here. Take these." She thrust the pizza boxes into his arms.

"Lois," he said, beginning to salivate, articulating his earlier thought. "You are incredible."

"Oh, I know," she said, feigning nonchalance, but CJ could tell that she'd taken his comment as it was meant, as a compliment, and she was pleased by it.

Together they walked into the apartment, CJ pausing just long enough to close the door behind them.

They put everything down on the dining table. Then, as CJ fussed around, finding a roll of kitchen towels and a couple of cans of drink from the fridge, Lois opened the first box, sat down and made herself comfortable.

As she reached to take a slice, she said, "I've got a lot to tell you."

CJ glanced at her as he, too, sat down. He could see the light of excitement in her eyes. He smiled, popped his can open, took a swig, then said, "And I've got stuff to tell you, too."

A new voice, heavy with sleep, joined the conversation. "Kent? What's going on? I thought I heard voices?"

"Yes, CJ, what is going on?"

Lois's light-hearted enthusiasm had given way to something more wary – as well it might, CJ thought. Mayson, tousle-haired and clad only in a borrowed T-shirt, was standing in the archway that led through to his bedroom, and Lois was eyeing the other woman with suspicion.

Mayson, now that she was beginning to wake up, was staring back at Lois with something like incredulity on her face. "CJ? What's going on here? I thought you two hated each other!"

"Um," said CJ.

Lois turned to face him. Flatly she said, "What is she doing here?"

"That's part of what I had to tell you," said CJ.

Mayson still seemed to be trying to reconcile the arrival of Lois in CJ's apartment with what she knew about their relationship. Her eyes narrowed shrewdly, then she said with a leap of logic that was almost worthy of Lois, herself, "You're working together, aren't you." It wasn't a question. "On this Luthor thing, I mean. Hey, is that pizza? I'm starving!"

Oddly, it was Mayson's willingness to eat Lois's food that diffused the awkward situation.

By the time they'd finished their first slices, Lois had been made aware of Tierney's, still-sleeping, presence in the next room, and the reason for Mayson's visit. By the time they'd eaten their second slices, Lois had outlined her suspicions about LexCorp's manipulation of the media. As they started on their third slices, they moved on to speculation, and tentatively began to plan out future courses of action.

By mutual, but unspoken, agreement, however, they concentrated on Tierney's predicament, Mayson's presence inhibiting any wider discussion. CJ had to curb his impatience and wait to find out what had brought Lois over in the middle of the night, just as Lois had to curb hers and wait to tell him.

"What we need," said Lois, with the dispassion of a person not directly acquainted with the subject, "is for Tierney to lead us to bigger fish. Yes, what's she's done is terrible, but it seems to me that who we want is that senior partner of hers. What was her name, again?"

"Barbara Benton," said Mayson.

"Yeah, Barbara Benton," agreed Lois. "Do you think Tierney'd help us with that?"

"Probably," said Mayson. "What, exactly, do you have in mind?"

Lois's calculating expression did nothing whatsoever to reassure CJ; the last time he'd seen that look had been when she'd hacked into the juror's bank accounts. He therefore took little comfort from her next words. "I have an idea, but I'd like to work on it a little before I tell you guys—" which CJ took to actually mean Mayson "—what it is."

*****

The grey pre-dawn light was beginning to nudge its way through the slats in the kitchen blinds as Mayson said, "We were at Law School together. That's where we met. There were three types of law students. Ones who liked the subject for its own sake, the idealists who were in law to make a difference, and the ones who were in it to make money."

"Which were you?" asked Lois without heat. Over the last couple of hours, their conversation had become relaxed, almost cozy.

"The second, I guess. Though a little money'd be nice, too, you know?" She glanced at CJ. "No prizes for guessing which group you'd have belonged to."

CJ smiled at Mayson's comment, which he took to be a compliment.

"Rosie... She wanted money. Not that you can fault her for that. Not really." Mayson sighed softly. "She's never told me much about her background beyond the fact that there was never any spare cash when she was growing up. And I know Rosie depended on scholarships, loans and part-time jobs to get through school. She got where she is today through determination, hard work and sheer pigheadedness, and I admire her for that."

Lois opened her mouth to speak. Mayson anticipated her, however, and said earnestly, "I know she's made some bad choices, but she's not a bad person."

"If she's such a good person," said Lois, unable to stop herself, "how did she get involved with Luthor in the first place?"

CJ had been wondering about that, too, and he was glad that Lois asked, even if the tone she'd adopted was a little antagonistic. He, himself, had been too polite or inhibited to do so.

"You'd have to ask her that," replied Mayson stiffly. "But, from what little I can gather, it was the result of a mixture of ambition, naiveté, and good, old-fashioned blackmail."

"Blackmail?"

"Yeah. Once she'd crossed the line that first time, her company had something on her to make sure she'd do it again and again. And each time she did..."

"She made the situation that much worse," finished CJ, understanding much.

There was a lengthy silence. Then Mayson said, "She's going to get struck off, isn't she?"

CJ sighed. "I would imagine so. Yes."

Mayson nodded. "I knew that really. I just needed someone else to say it. Rosie knows, too. I think that's one reason why it took her so long to come forward. It's hard to willingly lose everything you've worked so hard to achieve." She chewed her lower lip, then said, "I guess... the situation finally got to be so intolerable to her that losing everything seemed like a good choice to make."

CJ could understand that. He thought about how he'd felt at the bottom of his pit of depression, of how he'd wanted nothing more than to put distance between himself and work. Of how tempted he was to simply run and never come back.

Mayson said, "For her, now, it's simply a case of seeing how many people she can take with her. That's her path to redemption, do you see?"

*****

Sometime after six, they heard noises from the bedroom that indicated Tierney was awake at last.

No matter what Tierney ended up doing in the long-term, she and Mayson still had to be at work that morning, so, half an hour later, dressed and gushing with gratitude that CJ didn't feel he'd yet earned, they left the apartment. CJ's promise that he'd be in touch with them soon floated after them.

As soon as he'd closed the door behind them, Lois said with satisfaction, "Good. Now they're gone, we can talk properly."

CJ inclined his head in a gesture of agreement. "So talk," he said.

The problem was, so much had happened over the last twenty-four hours that Lois barely knew where to begin. In fact, she was having problems keeping everything straight in her own mind. "Can you pass me some paper?" she asked.

CJ tore off the top few pages of the legal pad he'd been using the night before and, with a now blank sheet on top, he handed it over to Lois, along with a pen. Then he sat down opposite her.

He watched, fascinated, as she began jotting random names and ideas down, scattered all over the page, then drew lines between them, ending up with an untidy web of interconnected names and ideas. It was a far cry from his neater habit of using linear lists.

Finally, she said, "Okay, let's recap." Then, without waiting for any acknowledgement, she continued. "Starting with what I was up to last night."

"You said you'd been looking into manipulation of the media."

"Uh, huh," grunted Lois by way of agreement. "I've got a number of leads to pursue there, but the most interesting one relates to Toni Taylor."

"Taylor..." CJ frowned. For a woman he hadn't heard of until last week, she certainly seemed to be turning up a lot in conversations lately.

"Yeah. I think that I was wrong to say we didn't need to investigate her." Lois quickly explained her reasoning and CJ found himself nodding. "The question, though," she said finally, "is where to begin, after all this time."

"I think," said CJ thoughtfully, "that I can maybe help there. That woman... The one I rescued the other day?"

"Tessa Michigan, yes. What about her?"

"She mentioned that she used to work for Toni Taylor."

Lois's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"It's a longshot, but she seemed to like her. Could be a place to start, anyway. And she said that she's working at some place called Bibbo's now, so she shouldn't be too difficult to find."

"Great!" said Lois with a fleeting smile. "Now, moving on to Tierney. We know she's working for Luthor, but there's no direct link between the two. Everything appears to be done through the intermediary of her firm, so we can't get him just through her." She glanced up, waited for CJ to nod, then returned to her notes. "But we know that there was – and probably still is – a direct link between Benton and Luthor. Right?"

"Right," agreed CJ. "So what we need," he said, picking up and running with the idea, "is to find evidence that links Benton to Luthor."

"Exactly. The question is how."

"Easy," said CJ. "With a statement from Tierney, we go to the police, get a warrant to search—"

"Too risky," interrupted Lois.

"What?"

She looked at him again, and again there was that glint in her eyes that made him feel decidedly uneasy. "I said that's too risky." Then, reacting to his open-mouthed disbelief, she said, "Oh, I know we'll have to go through all the proper channels eventually. I'm just saying that it's time consuming to do that, and it involves too many people. The risk of Luthor getting wind of what we're up to, and of someone cleaning house before the police get there – always assuming that the police are straight – is too great. I want to take a look around before that happens."

Warily, he asked, "So what do you have in mind?"

"Tell me, CJ," she said sweetly, "what would you say to a spot of breaking and entering?"

TBC