I told you I hadn't quit the story. It just took me a while to get back into the swing of things.
The Previous parts can be found here: http://www.lcficmbs.com/ubb/ultimatebb.php?ubb=get_topic;f=6;t=000780
Supercop 2: The Black Knight -- 8/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"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.
**********
And now, Part 8:
The forensics team was quick and thorough, as always. Henderson stood by, watching them, and looking over the house with his enhanced vision. It was during this exercise that he spotted the unlatched window.
"Norma," he said quietly to his subordinate, "when was the last time you checked your doors and windows?"
"Last night, before Neil and I left," Norma said. "I always do."
"Hmm. Then I guess they were all fastened?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't unlatch any of them this morning?"
Norma was looking alarmed. "No, of course not! I saw the bouquet and called you!"
"Then I think we'd better double check them," Henderson said. "Because it looks to me like the latch on your dining room window is open."
"What?" Norma hurried to check the window.
"Don't touch it," Henderson said. "I want it dusted for prints first. I doubt there are any, but you never know."
Norma gave a short nod and Henderson heard her heart speed up. She was scared and trying not to show it.
He spoke to the leader of the forensics team and then deliberately went from window to window, checking any and all avenues of access into the house, and discovered that the basement door was unlocked. In the interests of thoroughness, he checked the basement and discovered that one of the basement windows was also unlatched. A toolbox had been set in front of the window, obscuring a view of the latch from the basement stairs. He frowned thoughtfully and returned to the living room with more instructions for the forensics team.
Norma was sitting on the couch, her pale face looking drawn and tired. Henderson came to a decision.
"Look, Randall, you're not going to be any good on the job tonight if you don't get some sleep. Go pack a bag and a spare uniform. I'm going to call a friend of mine to take you somewhere safe where you can get a good day's sleep."
"That's not necessary," Norma protested at once. "I can just lock all the doors and windows."
"Yeah, and then spend hours staring at the ceiling," Henderson said bluntly. "I like my people to be on their toes on the job. Fatigue can make you less alert and then you wind up getting shot because a robbery suspect got the jump on you. I prefer to keep my people alive. This is an order."
Norma opened her mouth again and closed it. "You're right," she said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
He waited until she had vanished into her bedroom and then stepped outside. Taking a quick look around to be certain that no one was close enough to overhear, he produced his cell phone and made a phone call.
When Norma Randall stepped out of her bedroom, a small overnight bag in her hand, she found Henderson waiting patiently for her, accompanied by a figure that every citizen of Metropolis would have no difficulty at all in recognizing. He saw her eyes widen as she took in the famous blue and red spandex suit and stepped in before she could speak.
"Superman, this is Officer Randall. Norma, I'd like you to meet Superman."
Kent extended a hand with a faint smile. "Pleased to meet you, Officer. Inspector Henderson tells me you need a lift."
Norma attempted to speak and only a faint choking sound emerged. Henderson didn't smile. "I want to make sure that no one can possibly follow her. Thanks for agreeing to help, Superman."
"No problem," Kent said. "I'm always glad to assist the police when I can." He turned back to Norma. "Are you ready, Officer?"
Henderson spoke. "I called my wife. She agreed with me that you should borrow our spare bedroom for the day. With luck, we'll be able to find out about that character last night and figure out what's really going on here. Besides, I remember your husband mentioning that he was going to be back tomorrow."
Norma was still too stunned to protest. Superman held out an arm and, a moment later, Henderson watched them take off. He turned to walk back into the living room, where the forensics team was finishing up its work. "Anything?" he asked.
Sam Williams, the head of the team, shook his head. "Just the stuff on the doorknob. Like you said, it could be blood. We'll see what a lab analysis shows. Outside of the obvious stuff here, the guy was pretty careful. No traces of who he was; no prints; nothing. I'm not a detective but, if you want my opinion, I think this was intended to scare her."
"Yeah; so do I," Henderson said. "The pattern's been familiar lately."
Williams' eyes widened slightly. "You think it could be the Midtown Rapist?"
Henderson shrugged. "The thought had occurred to me. It's the pattern he's followed so far with his other victims. Randall took the report on his latest attack. If he saw her there --"
"Yeah." Williams took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. "I'll put a rush on the tests. If it *is* him, maybe this time you guys can nail the sicko. Going after a cop probably isn't the smartest move he could make."
"Yeah," Henderson said. Especially, he added to himself, if the Black Knight just happened to be watching the cop in question. If this *was* the Midtown Rapist, he'd just made a very critical error.
**********
The watcher laid his binoculars down on the seat beside him and scowled. He'd left the flowers and unfastened the window deliberately as a scare tactic. With luck they would focus on the upstairs window and the one in the basement, which he had opened as a distraction, and not notice the fact that he'd sabotaged the lock on the back door. He'd worked hard to leave that one looking undisturbed unless it was very closely examined. He'd wanted to shake the woman up, but maybe he'd gone a little too far. She *was* a cop, after all. It stood to reason that she would call in her friends to check out the break-in. The guy who'd shown up hadn't been wearing a uniform but he was obviously a cop, because the place was now swarming with men and women wearing lab suits, with badges on their outfits, probably dusting for prints and looking for evidence that he might have left behind. And now Superman had arrived to give the woman a lift to someplace else -- probably so he couldn't follow her, he thought. Whoever the guy she'd called was, he must have a lot of clout.
It didn't matter, though. He'd been very careful not to leave any traces except the ones he wanted to leave. And Norma Randall would be at the Twelfth Precinct tonight to report to work. He would be very careful from now on not to give her any more hints that she was being watched. Scaring her might be fun, but it didn't matter so much as the actual score. Let her think that he'd given up -- that it was nothing but a practical joke. Tonight, or just possibly tomorrow night. Randall had a lot to pay for -- the arrogance of her sex in general, for one, and the way women had treated him all of his life. She wasn't any different than any other woman, and she could repay what Mary owed him, and his mother, as well. Not that Mother hadn't paid before he'd left Albany, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough for the way women had ruined his life. Norma Randall was going to have to pay, too. It was only justice.
In the meantime, though, it was time he got ready for work. He worked the afternoon shift over at Metro High as the guy who did the general maintenance on their electrical systems and sound equipment. He'd better get back to the Apollo and get changed.
He glanced at his bandaged hand. The first finger was still numb. It was probable that the nerve in there had been completely severed. Going to the emergency room was still out of the question, however. The police had undoubtedly spread the word about the Midtown Rapist's injury by now, and someone would be bound to report it. If he gave his real name, they would track him back to Albany and discover the record of his arrests for domestic violence and the police were bound to bring him in for questioning. On the other hand, his new identity had no insurance and, if the police did any real examination of his identification, they were bound to realize that he wasn't who he said he was. No, medical treatment was out, at least for now.
Still, his cover story should allay any possible suspicion at work. His forged identification had withstood the school's cursory background check, and Theodore Waxman had been a model employee for the last two and a half months. His co-workers liked him and he'd established a record for reliability that should stand him in good stead if anyone asked about his hand. He'd come back to the matter of Norma Randall tonight. That detective, or whatever he was, couldn't follow her around every minute. Sooner or later, the woman would let down her guard. His revenge would be all the sweeter for having to wait.
**********
Rocketing through the air at just under the speed of sound, Bill Henderson spotted the pink form of Ultra Woman approaching him at an angle. Lois altered her direction slightly to intercept him. "Hi, Bill. How's it going?"
He grinned. As Henderson and Lane, they continued their ongoing verbal duel for form's sake but as fellow superheroes the relationship had changed somewhat.
"Not too bad," he said. "I might have a lead on our Midtown Rapist."
She changed her course to accompany him toward the Precinct. "Anything I should know about?"
"Only if it stays off the record."
She made a rude sound at him. "This is superhero stuff. You know me better than that. I've got a couple of tidbits to add to the list, too. I'll trade you."
He pretended to consider her offer for a moment and then grinned. "It's a deal. I'm afraid all I have are tidbits, too. It might be a false alarm."
"It seems like tidbits are all we have on this character," Lois said. "I talked to my snitch this morning, and he thinks the guy may drive a blue car."
"Oh yeah? That's interesting," Henderson said. "Anything else?"
"He might have worked as a sound man in a nightclub. You know -- the guy that handles the sound equipment. Why is it interesting?" she added.
"Because of something that happened last night. Sue and I were leaving Mi Casa ..." He went on to give the details of the incident. "And then, this morning, I got a call from Norma --"
When he had finished, Lois was silent for nearly a minute. "That's downright creepy," she said finally. "But you say the car was blue? Interesting coincidence. Of course, there are a lot of blue cars in Metropolis -- and New York, for that matter. Do you think you could pass the information on the license along to Clark or me when you get it?"
"You'll be the first to get the call. And if Olsen manages to identify those prints --"
"I'll have him call you. You don't mind if I give him your new number, do you?"
Henderson shook his head. "Nope. That kid should be working for the FBI. If we're lucky, he'll be our ace in the hole." They were approaching the 12th Precinct as he spoke. "See you later. Inspector Henderson has to be seen around the premises for a while."
Lois snorted. "And I thought it was bad when Clark talked about himself in the third person. I need to get back to the office. I've got a deadline. Be sure to call me if anything happens with Sue."
"I'll do that," Henderson said.
**********
Norma Randall felt her feet leave the ground and swallowed convulsively. Somehow, the possibility of ever actually flying with one of the superheroes had never occurred to her, especially Superman, himself. As the ground dropped away, she looked down, fascinated as the scene expanded. Her house shrank and the streets of the neighborhood surrounding it became visible. The house halfway down the block had a swimming pool in the back yard -- she had never known that, she thought. That looked like Mrs. Hanson and her dog, already on their way back from the post office. They were passing a dark blue sedan parked almost at the end of the block where she and Neil lived.
Superman glanced casually in the same direction. "Is there something wrong, Officer?" he asked. "You're not afraid of flying, are you?"
"Uh -- no," Norma said. "I'm just a little surprised. I didn't realize Bill -- Inspector Henderson -- knew you well enough to ask you to do him favors like this -- especially for someone you don't know."
"Bill and I have been friends for a long time," Superman said, flashing her the killer smile that never failed to make her heart beat faster. She wasn't being disloyal to Neil, she reminded herself firmly. A woman would have to be dead not to react that way to Superman. "Besides, I'm always glad to help the police department. Bill told me about the break-in. Do you have any idea what might be behind it?"
"What do you mean?" Norma asked.
"I mean," Superman said, "do you think it was just random, or was there some other reason? Not many breaking and entering suspects leave their victims a bouquet of flowers."
"They don't, do they?" Norma said.
"In fact," Superman said, "I can think of it happening only once before in recent history. Two months ago, one of the Midtown Rapist's victims got a bouquet very much like that one, two days before she was attacked. Unfortunately, no one connected it at the time. I don't want to worry you, but --"
Norma swallowed. "No," she said. "I don't think you could worry me any more than I already am."
"I suppose not," Superman said. "Officer, I don't mean to tell you your business, but is there any reason you can think of that someone might be targeting you? A copycat, maybe?"
She shook her head. "Not really. I responded to the call from the guy's last attack, but I don't see how he could know it was me."
"If he was still hanging around, he might have seen you," Superman said. "Is there any way he could have identified you?"
"I don't know," Norma said. "I guess it's possible."
"Yes," Superman agreed. "It's possible. Will you do me a favor?"
She was aware of a sense of surprise. Superman was asking her for a favor? "Sure."
"Until Henderson and Wolfe bring this character in, if you think you might be in danger, would you do me the favor of yelling 'Help, Superman'? I can be there in seconds, and I'm as anxious to get the Rapist behind bars as Henderson is. It's only a matter of time before he kills someone."
Norma considered. It didn't seem quite right for a police officer to be yelling to Superman for help. On the other hand, the situation wasn't ordinary, and he had just *asked* her to do so. You didn't generally turn down a request from Superman. "All right," she said.
"Thanks," Superman said. "That makes me feel a little better. There's Bill's house." He nodded at one of the little tract homes beneath them, and began a gentle descent. "Sue's waiting for us at the door."
"You know Inspector Henderson's wife?"
He nodded, giving her a slight smile. "We've met. Here we are." His feet touched the sidewalk and he set Norma gently down. The return of the feeling of gravity was almost a surprise. "This way."
A few minutes later, Sue Henderson had admitted her to the small, neat house and Superman had flown away. Norma looked after him for a moment.
"He's very nice, isn't he?" Sue said.
"Yeah." Norma brought her attention back to Henderson's wife. "I never expected to fly with him. He's a lot different than he seems on TV."
"I know." Sue reached for the overnight bag, but Norma forestalled her. The last thing they needed was for Sue to go into labor at this minute. "Come this way. We've turned our smallest bedroom into a nursery, but we still have a spare room for guests. Bill said somebody broke into your house?"
"Yeah." Norma said. "He left me a bouquet of flowers."
Sue made a face. "Creepy," was her diagnosis. "Well, whoever he was, he couldn't have followed Superman, so you're safe here for today."
"Yeah." Norma hesitated. "Thanks for letting me stay."
"Oh, that's not a problem," Sue assured her. "I think Bill's glad to have someone here with me right now. We're in a holding pattern, and he's more nervous than I am about it."
"Bill, nervous?" This didn't fit the pattern of the Bill Henderson she knew.
Sue laughed. "I know. I hate to disillusion you, but Bill's the traditional anxious father-to-be. I'm a little impatient, myself, but don't tell him that."
Norma found herself grinning. "Your secret's safe with me," she said.
Moments later, Norma was left alone in the small bedroom. As she readied herself for bed, she thought back to the short flight with Superman, and the subject of the superheroes that she had been wondering about on her drive home came to mind. Superman must have another life. That part she'd pretty much established in her mind as fact. But how could he possibly walk among the general population with that face and build and not be instantly recognized? Superman was impressive -- even more impressive close up than on television. He didn't wear a mask, but maybe in his civilian identity he did something else to disguise himself. Maybe he wore a wig, she speculated, yawning widely. Was it possible that whoever he was in his everyday identity was a blond or a redhead? The image made her snort softly. Not with that complexion. Superman had an olive complexion that certainly wouldn't go well with anything but black or dark-brown hair, so that was out. His eyes had a faintly Asian shape to them, so he might do something to disguise them. Maybe he wore glasses, she speculated. Or maybe he worked in some field where he wore the kind of clothing that concealed his impressive physique. Maybe he was a lab technician or a doctor, or even some kind of construction worker. He wouldn't stand out at all among all the rest of the muscular guys that he would work with. Somehow the image of Superman sitting at a construction site, eating his lunch and whistling at attractive women who happened to pass by just didn't compute. He certainly didn't seem to be that kind of guy.
Oh well, the chances were that she had never met his civilian identity, anyhow. She certainly didn't have that indefinable sense of familiarity in his presence that she had with the Knight. Besides, whoever he was in ordinary life wasn't any of her business.
Norma lowered the blinds and pulled the heavy curtains, blocking out the bright morning sunlight. The room was as dark as her bedroom at home when she caught her morning's sleep, and the bed looked very comfortable. Norma climbed under the covers and turned over, and in spite of the disturbing things that had happened this morning, she was tired enough that she was soon sound asleep.
**********
Henderson was entering the side door or the Precinct when his cell phone rang. He unhooked the little object from his belt and flipped it open. "Henderson."
"It's Cindy," the familiar voice at the other end said. "You said you wanted the information on that license as soon as we had it."
"Right," Henderson said. "What have you got?"
"It belongs to a Robert Owens, last known address: Albany, New York," Cindy said. "I just faxed the report over to you."
"Thanks," Henderson said. "Any background on this guy?"
"Not yet. The address is an old one."
"How old?"
There was a pause as Cindy apparently checked her information. "Three and a half months old. He apparently moved out and left no forwarding address."
**********
tbc
