Okay, so it expanded a little.
For Part 1 go here: http://www.lcficmbs.com/ubb/ultimatebb.php?ubb=get_topic;f=1;t=004752
First Case: 2/3
by Nan Smith
Bobby Bigmouth hadn't changed much in five years, Lois thought, except to become leaner, if possible. He glanced clinically at Lois's spiky-haired companion and raised an eyebrow. "I can get you a deal on earrings," he remarked, deadpan. "They got a sale on tourmalines at Winslow's Jewelry. They're the newest in cool."
"Maybe you should check it out, Charlie," Lois said. The thought of her partner with a pink earring made her want to grin. "This is Charlie King, Bobby," she added. "He's learning the ropes. Charlie: Bobby Bigmouth."
"Gladta meetcha," Bobby said, absently. "You got my lunch?"
"Right here." Lois produced the bag. "One super-sized deli sandwich, coleslaw with pineapple garnish, and flan. Also," she added, "One double-sized chocolate malt. Extra on the malt. Now, what have you got for me?"
"I heard a couple of guys talking," Bobby said, looking speculatively at the bag in Lois's hands. "This guy -- he's working for somebody who's got a stake in buyin' up the property on that chunk of land for some kind of development scheme -- right on the edges of Suicide Slum. But first he's got to clear out the 'residents'. I guess he figures the firefighters are gonna be more interested in saving the property in the better sections of Metropolis."
"You mean this is some kind of scheme to get the *land*?" Lois asked, stunned. "In *Suicide Slum*?"
"Kind of," Bobby said. "The slumlords like those places. They get income, an' the health and safety guys never even bother to check them out. I heard somebody'd tried to buy it a few months ago, but couldn't get the owner to sell."
"What kind of idiot would be after property *there*?"
"Somebody who thinks he can make a profit out of it, I guess," Bobby said. "Anyhow, this guy I heard talkin' has his own scam going. Check out the times of those fires, and the robberies that took place at the same time. You might find a connection. That's all I can tell you, though. I like livin'." He glanced at the bag she held and extended a hand. Lois gave it to him, as well as the super-sized shake.
"Enjoy," she said, unnecessarily, as Bobby was already opening the bag. "Oh, one more thing."
"Yeah?" The word was spoken thickly through the first enormous bite of the deli sandwich.
"If you could find me some significant dirt on Leo Nunk, I might be persuaded to spring for a full Peking Duck dinner -- unless you'd prefer something else. Come on, Charlie."
**********
"You get hold of the police reports," Lois said, as they stepped into the elevator in the Planet's lobby, " and I'll check out records of land sales in Suicide Slum. Whoever this guy is, he's either crazy or he's got some long-term scheme in mind. What idiot would want to buy land in that section of town?"
"Well, the property is cheap," Clark pointed out. "If somebody wanted to put in the money and effort, it could pay off pretty well."
"I suppose so," Lois said. "And if the strategy works, I guess he won't be investing nearly as much money as he might if he had to buy at full price. Just the land is worth a fair amount, even if the buildings are condemned. And bulldozing a bunch of burned buildings is probably cheaper than tearing the tenements down."
Clark straightened his tie. "On it. By the way," he added, "since when did our byline get to be 'Lane and Kent'?"
"Well," Lois said, undaunted, "I was here before you."
He raised an eyebrow at her, but she could tell he was trying not to grin. "Oh, right. I'd forgotten."
"And this afternoon, before the stores close for New Year's Eve," Lois added, in a non-sequitur, "before I see Louie, I want to visit Winslow's Jewelers and see about that bargain that Bobby was talking about. Charlie King is going to keep a low profile, but he'll be real useful on undercover jobs -- and if by chance someone does see him, I think a pink earring and maybe a couple of gold chains will look real cute."
"Not to mention," Clark said, dryly, "be great for misdirection. I think I'll get myself a wig. Maybe blond."
"You know," Lois said, struck, "that's idea's not half-bad." She grinned. "Make way for Charlie King, undercover journalist extraordinaire."
The elevator doors opened at that instant, and Ralph, at the water-cooler, stared at them with his mouth open as they emerged from the car, laughing.
**********
"You're kidding me, right?" Clark was saying, some two hours later. He surveyed himself in the mirror that hung conveniently on the wall of Winslow's Jewelers. The pink earring on his left earlobe glinted fetchingly.
"Nope. Pink earrings are the newest in cool. Bobby said so."
Clark forbore to express his opinion of Bobby Bigmouth's expertise when it came to style, but he had to admit that Lois was right. Besides, if this meant that he could continue his career as an investigative journalist, then so be it. He consciously kept his hands away from the blond wig that he had purchased half an hour before. It made him look like some kind of punk rocker, but certainly no one was going to connect the swaggering Charlie King with Superman, or even Clark Kent. Still, the tattoo that Lois had applied to his left shoulder and neck in such a way as to show slightly above the V-neck of his T-shirt, had left him slightly doubtful. The indelible ink should hold up pretty well, and he could reapply it when it started to wear, but the fanged serpent didn't quite seem to reflect his personality very well. On the other hand, he reminded himself, that was exactly the point.
"I look more like a Spike or something than a Charlie," he remarked as they left the shop a few minutes later.
"All to the good," Lois said. "You'll fit right in at Louie's."
"Tell me again why we're going to see this Louie," Clark said.
"Louie is an old friend of mine," Lois said. "He knows guys who know guys."
"And how do *you* know him?"
She shrugged. "Just lucky. His daughter was my tennis doubles partner in college."
"Ah, I see. And why are we going to see him?"
"He and we have a mutual acquaintance."
"And who would that be?"
"Nunk. Louie has some information he'd like to give me."
"Oh," Clark said. "Nunk is just a nuisance, Lois. I don't really think --"
"Nunk is out to further his career by making up a big scandal about Superman. We're going to short-circuit him."
"Oh," Clark said, startled. "How do you know this?"
"Jonetta, from the Planet's secretarial pool, told me," Lois said, matter-of-factly. "Besides, Nunk and I have issues from five years ago. He tried the same thing with Perry."
"*Perry*?"
"Uh huh. Fortunately, I had a couple of tidbits of information that Nunk didn't want to have known at the time. We came to an agreement."
"You blackmailed him?"
Lois strove to look pained. "Do you have to be so blunt about it?"
Clark laughed. "Okay, so I guess we're looking for blackmail material on Nunk. I'd think that with him it would have to be something pretty extreme. Your ordinary scandal wouldn't faze him much."
"Definitely. But don't underestimate me."
"Never," Clark said, sincerely. "I'm beginning to figure that out."
**********
The pool hall where Lois intended to meet Louie was a seedy, well-worn establishment in the no man's land that divided the better sections of the city of Metropolis from the cesspool that was Suicide Slum. Even the layer of snow that was beginning to coat every flat surface couldn't disguise the air of dirt, grime and general disrepair. Clark looked around dubiously and firmly reminded himself that Superman was immune to Earth-germs. Lois, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice. She pushed open the door and strode confidently in.
Two men were playing pool at one of the tables in the center of the room. The individual lining up his shot was a big, beefy fellow with a shock of greasy hair and a fat, malodorous cigar clenched between his teeth. The second man was thin and weedy, with a two-day growth of beard. He clutched a beer can in one hand. The place reeked of stale tobacco smoke, beer and sweat.
Lois marched up to the men and leaned against the table. The man with the pool cue straightened up, scowling at her.
"I'm Lois," she informed the two men. "I need to see Louie."
Slowly, the beefy fellow leaned down and began to line up his shot on the 9-ball once more. Lois reached casually down and picked up the ball. "Hold this, Charlie," she said, tossing the object to him. "I'm here to see Big Louie," she added to the pool player. "I'm Lois. Louie's expecting me."
The man straightened up a second time, the scowl on his face growing deeper. He glared briefly at Lois, then at Clark, holding the ball. Without a word, he turned and made his way toward the rear of the room.
"You just have to know how to talk to these guys," Lois said. Clark glanced at the weedy man, but he had tilted his head far back, apparently intent upon emptying his beer can of the last few drops of its contents.
A door at the back of the room opened and a man emerged. He was short, fat and balding, and the grin on his face when he saw Lois told Clark at once that this was Big Louie. The beefy man followed him out. He glanced sourly at Lois.
"Give him the ball back," Lois directed, casually. Clark tossed it to the beefy man, who caught it and returned to the pool table without another glance at them. Louie beckoned to them, and they retreated to a small section in one corner, where a ratty sofa, a battered coffee table and two equally ratty-looking chairs were clustered artistically together.
As soon as she came within reach, Louie enveloped Lois in a massive hug. "Lois, sweetie, I thought we was never gonna see you again!"
"You wouldn't have," Lois said, "if it hadn't been for Superman. He saved my life."
"Yeah, the big blue Boy Scout's cool that way. Don't tell him I said so, but he's good to have around -- especially in this neighborhood," Louie said casually. "The crime rate's dropped even around here since he came to town." He let her go and gestured to the chairs. "Have a seat. What can I do for you, cupcake? Tricia's going to want to see you, you know. Can I give her your number?"
"Sure." Lois fished in her purse and presented Louie with a business card. "Here's my number at the Planet. I'm getting an apartment but I won't be moving in for a couple of days, so I don't have a permanent phone yet."
Louie took the card and tucked it into his breast pocket. "Thanks. So, what can I do for you today?"
"Well, as you probably know," Lois said, "I'm Superman's new representative."
"Yeah, I heard. That was a smart move. He needs somebody to run interference for him -- or was that your idea?"
"Both, actually." She nodded at Clark, who had kept quiet while she talked. "This is Charlie King. He's helping me out while Clark does his Superman stuff."
"Gladta meetcha," Louie said absently. "Any friend of Lois is a friend of mine."
"Likewise," Clark said.
"Anyway," Lois said, "I've gotten some information that Leo Nunk is trying to gin up some kind of sex scandal about Clark. There's not a lot you can do about stuff like that when somebody's determined to make trouble -- unless you can shut him down. I was wondering if you could help me."
"You want I should send some guys to have a talk with him?" Louie inquired, cracking his knuckles absently.
"Uh -- I don't think it's necessary to go that far," Lois said. "I'm just looking for information that might help me persuade him that it's to his advantage to drop the project."
"Throw a scare into him, huh?" Louie said. "Yeah, I think I can help you with that. You might want to find out about a guy named Gary Snoot, about ten years ago, in Newark. He had to leave town suddenly -- and a guy named Vernon Hinkle. Just leave my name out of it."
Lois was scribbling hastily on a small notepad. "Your name won't come into it. Thanks. This might be exactly what I need."
"Don't mention it, sweetcakes. You sure you don't want my boys to have a word with Nunk? I can guarantee he won't have no urge to report it."
"No," Lois said. "But thanks for the offer."
"It's your call. If you change your mind, you know where I am."
**********
"Louie is a little --" Clark paused, trying to find a word to describe the man as they headed down the sidewalk toward the nearest alley. The layer of clouds overhead, that was responsible for the snow that drifted through the afternoon air, had grown thicker, and the slight breeze was crisp and cold.
"Louie's okay," Lois said. "Basically, he knows guys who know guys. Don't let him fool you."
"I don't think he could," Clark said. "Are you sure he's not going to harm Nunk?"
"He won't," Lois said. "Nunk is a grease job, but Louie knows I'll handle it."
"You seem pretty sure of it."
"You have to understand Louie," Lois said. "His word is completely reliable. If it wasn't, he'd be out of business in a week. It's his corporate policy -- so to speak."
"Oh," Clark said.
"Exactly. Now, let's get back to the newsroom and see what we can dig up. I also want to give Bobby a call. He might know something about this Gary Snoot character."
"I meant to ask; what did you find out that Nunk is up to?" Clark asked.
"He was trying to bribe the women in the Planet's secretarial pool to accuse you of trying to take advantage of them," Lois said baldly. "I caught him at the same game with Perry years ago when he was new at the Celebrity Scandal Weekly. I guess he figures that the stuff I had on him then is old news. We'll see what kind of result this new information produces."
**********
tbc
