Part 16
“Lois Lane, I love you,” Clark said. He was looking at her with eyes full of passion.
“Oh Clark, you don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words,” she told him. She wanted him so badly, to have his lips on hers, to have his hands on her body, caressing her skin and hair, exploring her innermost secrets.
“But you're not yourself, and so I couldn't take advantage of this situation and... Oh, what the...” she muttered to herself as she threw caution to the wind. She knew she wasn't likely to get a second chance. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him. He returned her kiss with equal passion and shivers ran down her spine. His kiss was everything she had dreamed, everything she had wanted. And she wanted. She took his hand and led him to her bedroom. The room was ablaze with candlelight.
Without quite knowing how, she found her self naked on the bed, waiting. She studied his bare chiseled chest, broad shoulders, strong legs. She beckoned for him to shed his silk boxers and join her. He turned his back to her as he pulled off the boxers, giving her a view of his perfectly formed back and buttocks.
“Come here, Superman…”
She woke with a start to discover it was dark in her room and she was alone. ‘Come here, Superman…?’ If dreams were a reflection of the subconscious, then hers had a very active imagination.
Come here, Superman…?
It had been Clark who had been in her dream. Mister Green-jeans, the hack from Podunk, her partner who she was afraid to go to the next level with.
Come here, Superman…
Clark’s face without his glasses had seemed so un-Clark-like and yet so familiar. Black hair, brown eyes, Mister Hard-body, a bit more than six-feet tall…
‘You’ve lost part of yourself and you don’t know if you’ll ever find that part again…’ Esther had said to Clark.
It made a bizarre sort of sense. Superman had appeared in Metropolis only days after Clark was hired at the Daily Planet. Clark had seemed to have the ability to locate Superman, even though no one knew where the superhero hung out when he wasn’t out on rescues or answering alarms.
Clark lost his memory the day Superman went out to deal with Nightfall and, apparently, failed to return. It was Superman that was missing from Clark’s memories. Superman.
In Smallville, Clark had fallen ill, and gotten hurt – a paper cut. His reaction had been one of astonishment. Then the late unlamented Jason Trask beat Clark bloody, claiming there was a green glowing crystal that could kill Superman. Lois had dubbed the mystery substance ‘kryptonite’ and had believed at the time it was a fiction created by a mad man. But Clark had felt ill when Luthor unveiled the statue with the piece of green glowing asteroid on it. And Clark had reacted badly when Constance blew kryptonite laced drugs into his face.
It was a puzzle and she finally had enough of the pieces to make out the picture. Clark Kent was Superman?
She felt her ire rise. Clark was Superman and he hadn’t told her? The biggest story of her life and he hadn’t shared it? I’ll kill him!
-o-o-o-
Eugene Laderman’s trial was set to resume at nine AM. The case was expected to go to the jury sometime today.
Lois left a message for Perry to remind him that despite the events of the past week, she was still on the story and would be in to write it up as soon as she could. She’d been covering the story every since it broke. Eugene Laderman, meek, mousy computer programmer, had confessed to having an affair with his boss’s wife and murdering the aforesaid husband. It was a cut and dried case, except that Laderman had recanted his confession.
One good point about the trial - it was keeping her out of the newsroom so she wouldn’t have to face Clark until she had calmed down a bit. Clark was Superman and he didn’t tell me.
-o-o-o-
There weren’t many people in the courtroom. Interest had died down after the initial sensationalism and it wasn’t an important case except to the principals.
Laderman was sitting next to his lawyer looking for all the world like a dog who couldn’t understand why he was in a cage at the pound. All that was missing was the heart-rending whimper.
Judge Green looked grim, but then Green always looked dour. He looked over to the jury foreman. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”
“We have, your honor.”
Green read the verdict note then had it handed back to the foreman. “To the charge of murder in the first degree: guilty as charged,” the foreman read. “To the charge of murder in the second degree: guilty as charged. To the charge of arson in the first degree: guilty as charged.”
Lois noticed Detective Betty Reed sitting behind the District Attorney. She was smiling, nodding to her partner. Lois knew that this was the first homicide Reed had taken to court. The woman was justifiably proud of herself.
Judge Green finally looked over at Laderman. “Mister Laderman, before this court imposes sentence, do you have anything to say?”
Laderman’s voice was shaking when he answered. “I'm innocent.”
If Green felt any sympathy for the man standing at the defendant’s table, it didn’t show. The sentence was a foregone conclusion. New Troy law sentencing guidelines gave judges and juries little leeway in first degree murder sentences – life with or without parole or the death penalty. And the death penalty was currently suspended until another Supreme Court ruling.
“It is the decision of this court that Eugene Laderman be immediately transported to the Metropolis Maximum Security Prison to begin serving a term of life without the possibility of parole.”
Laderman had been pale before the sentence was handed down. Now he was positively ashen. He looked back at Lois as two bailiffs appeared to take him away. Laderman’s lawyer just shook his head.
Lois hurried out of the courtroom and headed to where she knew Laderman would be held until the prison van could be brought around. She knew the bailiff standing in front of the door – Ben Wilkey. They’d gone to high school together and he’d proven to be a reliable source on matters within the courthouse.
“It’s against the rules,” Ben stated when she asked him to open the keypad locked door so she could talk to Laderman.
“Don't tell me what the rules are, Ben,” Lois reminded him. “I've broken every one of them before.”
“I can't let you in there, Lois.”
“But you know me. I've been covering this trial for months. I just want to get a statement,” Lois said, trying to reassure him.
“It's against the...”
He was being stubborn but she knew his weakness. Even in high school she’d known what it took to get his cooperation on anything. “You still a football fan?”
He eyed her speculatively. Ben obviously remembered. “Depends on where I'm sitting.”
Lois reached into her purse and pulled out two tickets for the Metropolis Tigers’ game in two days time. She’d gotten them from her friend Louie and had been planning to offer them to Clark and Jimmy. But she was mad at Clark at the moment and what Jimmy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. “How about the fifty yard line?”
“Ten minutes.” He keyed in the combination to the door and it clicked open. They stepped inside to the small room beyond. It was empty.
Within minutes Reed and her partner and a whole contingent of uniformed officers where searching the building for the escape prisoner.
Reed glowered at Ben as she asked him and Lois details of what they observed. “… And when the door opened...?”
“He was gone,” Lois answered simply.
A technician walked up to Reed, notepad in hand. “He accessed the code number from the central courtroom computer. And the evidence room was broken into. A gun is missing.”
“Detective Reed, I don't think that...” Ben began.
“You don't think, period,” Reed spat. “I'll be mentioning the fact that you opened the door for Ms. Lane in my report.”
“It wasn't his fault. I... made him do it,” Lois protested. Ben was a good guy and she really didn’t want him to get into trouble, besides he was a source and good sources needed to be taken care of.
“He wasn't following procedure,” Reed told her sternly. “You're free to go. For now.”
“Thank you,” Lois said. She looked to Ben, shrugging her apology.
She had parked her jeep in front of the courthouse, and there was a ticket on her windshield for her trouble. She grabbed the ticket, stuffed it in her purse, opened the door of the jeep and climbed in.
Lois started up the car then looked into the rear view mirror. There was a shape in the back seat. It shifted and she whirled around in her seat to see Eugene Laderman sitting in the back seat. The gun he was holding was quite visible.
“Drive,” Laderman ordered.
“Eugene! What are you doing?” Lois demanded.
“Just... drive…”
Lois pulled the jeep from the curb and pulled into a near-by alley, out of sight.
“Eugene, this isn't going to work. Everyone's looking for you,” Lois said.
“I said drive.” He waved the gun for emphasis but Lois noticed his hand was shaking.
“I know what you said, Eugene. Now give me that gun before you get into even more trouble.”
He handed Lois the gun and she locked it in the glove compartment.
“I never would have...” Laderman said meekly.
“I know you wouldn't,” Lois assured him. Her first interview with Laderman had been early in the trial. Her first impression was that he was a very mild, gentle man, incapable of the crime he had been accused of.
“Ms. Lane. You're the only one I can turn to,” he said. There was desperation in his voice. “You know all the evidence against me was circumstantial. You know I didn't kill Henry Harrison.”
“Eugene, I believe you're innocent. But you're also an escaped felon now, 'armed and dangerous.' What are you going to do?” Lois asked.
“I don't know except...” he paused. “I have to see Lena. Something's wrong. She didn't look at me during the trial. She never visited me in jail.”
“Eugene, you were convicted of killing her husband,” Lois reminded him.
“But she loves me! And I love her. Please. I have to talk to her. Help me,” he pleaded.
“I’ll do what I can,” Lois promised. Then she promptly wondered what she was getting herself into this time – and what Clark would do.
-o-o-o-
‘Convicted Killer Escapes’ the Daily Planet’s headline said. Lois had called the story in as soon as she’d been able to and Clark had put the finishing touches on it. So far, she’d been able to avoid explaining what it took so long for her to get to the office. The last thing she wanted was for Perry or Clark to find out what she’d done – aiding and abetting an escaped felon.
“Lois, you doing a follow-up on Eugene Laderman's escape?” Perry asked her. She was staring at the paper on the conference table. There were head shots of Eugene Laderman, Henry Harrison, and Lena Harrison below the headline. It was shameless exploitation of a miserable situation.
“Lois?” Perry said more loudly. “You with us?”
She shook herself. “On it, Chief.”
“Bummed out over the verdict?” Clark asked gently, leaning close to her.
“The man is innocent,” she stated firmly. “He's no more a killer than I am.”
“Man signed a confession, didn't he?” Perry asked.
“He was under duress when he signed it, didn't even have his attorney present.”
“Lois, the guy shot his boss, then set fire to the room to try and hide the evidence,” Clark reminded her.
“Fingerprints on the gun,” Jimmy added. “His clothes had Harrison's blood on them. Not to mention that he and Harrison's wife were 'doing the deed.'”
“Jimmy, it's okay to have an affair when your husband is a brutal sociopath,” Lois said, even though her argument sounded bizarre as soon as she said it.
“No, it's not. It's not okay,” Clark said but Lois noticed he seemed as distracted as she was. “Assuming it's true,” he added.
“What's true?” Perry asked him.
“That they're having an affair,” Clark answered. There was something odd with the way he said it and Lois knew Perry had picked up on it too. Lois had the feeling Clark wasn’t referring to Laderman and Mrs. Harrison.
“Well, you know, when Priscilla left Elvis, February '72, she went straight into the arms of her karate instructor, Mike Stone, also married at the time. The King was devastated - he was the one who introduced Priscilla to Mike a year before,” Perry said.
Lois tried to head him off. “Chief, forgive me, but I am not in the mood for another Elvis yarn. Besides, what does Elvis Presley have to do with an innocent man fighting for his life?”
Perry gave her a hurt look. “You're not in the mood for an Elvis yarn?”
Lois forced herself to remain patient. “Chief, Eugene and Lena...?”
“Speak of the devil…” Jimmy murmured, nodding toward the newsroom.
Lois looked out the conference room windows to see a well dressed forty-something woman coming down the ramp from the elevators – Lena Harrison.
Perry hurried everyone out of the conference room then ushered Mrs. Harrison inside to Lois. Clark moved to leave as well but Lois caught his sleeve. Instead of leaving, he closed the door and helped Mrs. Harrison to a chair at the end of the table. The woman appeared distraught.
Lois and Clark settled in on opposite sides of the table.
“I'm very worried. I haven't heard from him,” Lena began. She took Lois’s hand and Lois had to fight the urge to take it back.
“Eugene wrote to me, told me how much he trusted you,” Lena continued. “You were the only one who believed in him.”
Lois glanced at Clark to check his reaction. His face was carefully bland and she suspected he felt the same odd vibes that she did.
“What can we do for you?” Lois asked carefully.
“They'll find him,” Lena said. “They'll track him down and kill him. Please write something in the paper. I know he'll read it. Tell him that if he really loves me he'll turn himself in. There's the appeal... there's always hope.” The older woman broke down in tears, daubing her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief.
“Mrs. Harrison, I know this must be very difficult for you...” Clark began. His voice was calm and soothing, almost professionally so, and Lois wondered why she had never noticed it before. It was exactly the same tone she had heard Superman use to calm accident and violence victims. ‘It’s going to be okay.’
“My husband was a violent and cruel man,” Lena was saying. “There were nights, so many nights, that I thought... God forgive me... if only he were dead, then Eugene and I... He did it for me. And when I think about him, out there, alone, hunted... I hope he's all right.”
The conference room door opened and Perry stuck his head in. “Uh Lois? Can I see you outside for a moment?”
Lois finally disengaged her hand from Lena’s and stood up. Lena stood as well, whipping away her tears.
“I have to be going anyway,” Lena said.
“We'll write the story,” Lois promised.
“Thank you.”
Lois watched her head for the elevators before heading out into the newsroom. Clark headed to the coffee corner, leaving Lois alone with Perry. The older man jerked his head to indicate the woman sitting at Lois’s desk. The woman was watching Mrs. Harrison leave the newsroom. Then she stood and turned around.
“Detective Reed,” Lois gulped. Reed was the last person she wanted to see at the moment.
“Ms. Lane,” Reed greeted her. She nodded toward the elevators. “Lena Harrison have anything interesting to say?”
“She's worried about Eugene,” Lois told. “She wants us to write an article telling him to turn him self in.”
“Good idea,” Reed agreed but Lois could tell the officer wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea. “We've been tailing her since last night.”
“No sign of Eugene?”
Reed glowered. “The fugitive is still at large.”
Perry stepped in. “Is there something specific we can help you with, Detective?”
“Well, no, not really. It just seemed to me that during the trial, Ms. Lane and the escaped felon became, well... friendly-like.” Reed told him.
“I'm a journalist. I covered the trial,” Lois reminded her.
“Yes. And, of course, I'm not a journalist, but it did seem to me that your articles seemed slanted toward proclaiming his innocence,” Reed pointed out. “I was wondering if you might have any information as to the whereabouts of Mr. Laderman.” She gave Lois a pointed look. “He hasn't called you, has he?”
“No. He hasn't called me,” Lois said. It wasn’t a lie. Laderman hadn’t called her. He had stowed away in her jeep.
“Well, just in case, if you do hear from him, give me a call, will you?” Reed asked. She handed Lois her business card and turned to leave. She turned back, almost as an afterthought. “Don't worry, Ms. Lane. I brought him in once, I'll do it again. Dead or alive.”
Lois stared after her. She hoped against all hope that Laderman wouldn’t do anything stupid – aside from the stupid things he’d already done. Reed was a good cop and a good detective. If given time, she would certainly find Laderman and chances where that he would end up dead.
She spotted Clark heading back to his desk with a fresh cup of coffee. He looked so innocent, even though he had lied to her every day since the first time they met. At the moment that didn’t matter. She grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him into a quiet spot in the newsroom.
“Tell me the biggest secret you have,” she ordered.
“What?” Clark’s eyes were wide in confusion.
“Tell me the biggest secret you have. Something you'd never reveal to a living soul.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm about to tell you the biggest one I have, and I need blackmail material,” she told him.
“I can't,” Clark protested. He was looking at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Spill it!” she ordered.
“Okay,” Clark conceded slowly. “The truth is... my mother might be having an affair with a younger man.”
“Not big enough,” Lois came back.
“What?” Clark nearly squeaked. “My Mom and Dad have been married for thirty years.” He seemed incensed that she didn’t consider his ‘secret’ to be important enough. She had almost hoped he would confess to having been Superman. Not that he was likely to. Clark didn’t remember being Superman.
“Okay, okay,” Lois said. “What I'm about to tell you cannot be repeated. Swear it.”
“I swear…”
“On the lives of your future grandchildren,” Lois added.
Clark looked annoyed. “Hit me.”
“And no matter what I tell you, you can't do anything about it.”
“Got it.”
Lois took a deep breath. “Eugene Laderman is hiding out in my apartment.”
Clark stared at her a long moment then went to his desk, picked up the phone handset and handed it to her.
“What are you doing?” Lois asked. Handing her the phone certainly wasn’t the reaction she had expected from him.
“You are calling the police. Or I will,” he told her firmly.
She grabbed the handset from him and slammed it down. “You swore!”
“Lois...”
“On your future grandchildren!”
“Lois, you can't make me swear to something that's illegal. You're harboring a fugitive… A murderer. The man is dangerous. He killed Harrison. He could kill you.”
“He's innocent,” Lois protested.
“He was tried and convicted by a jury of his peers.”
“Truth and justice was Superman’s gig, okay?” Lois shot back. “I shouldn't have told you in the first place, but... I'm your partner, right?”
“When it's convenient for you, yes,” Clark told her.
“Come to my apartment. Talk to him. If you still feel that he's a murderer... then you can call the police,” she offered. “Deal?” She desperately wanted Clark in on this. As independent as she considered herself, there was something comfortable and reassuring about having back-up.
She watched as Clark considered her offer. She could tell he was on the verge of acquiescing. Finally, he nodded and she gave a silent sigh of relief.
-o-o-o-
Laderman was right where Lois had left him – sitting on her sofa, looking like a kicked puppy.
Clark was obviously not impressed with Laderman’s demeanor. Sympathy was out of the question at the moment. He had begun by asking the same pointed questions the D.A. had asked or, in some cases, should have asked.
“You were heard having an argument the day before he was killed,” Clark said.
“That's true, but...” Laderman began.
“And you admit that you hated him.”
“It was the way he treated Lena,” Laderman said. He was wringing his hands and Lois wanted to stop Clark’s line of questioning except she also knew he needed to satisfy himself as to Laderman’s sincerity.
“You were having an affair with his wife,” Clark pointed out. There was a surprising amount of asperity in her voice.
“It wasn't an affair,” Laderman said. “We were in love, but Lena didn't want to consummate it until...”
“You killed him?” Clark interrupted.
“No. Until she left him,” Laderman corrected. “You didn't know him. Lena would come to work with bruises on her.”
Lois could tell that Clark still wasn’t convinced. The idea that Laderman had been ‘seeing’ a married woman seemed to bother him. ‘My mother might be having an affair with a younger man,’ Clark had told her as his secret. Martha having an affair? No wonder Clark was acting so wound up.
“Tell Clark about Henry,” Lois ordered Laderman. She needed to get the questioning away from Laderman’s relationship with Lena Harrison.
“He developed his own software and started his own company after he got fired from LexCorp,” Laderman told them.
That piqued Clark’s curiosity. “He worked for Lex Luthor?”
Laderman nodded. “For twenty years. He was fired a month before he was eligible to retire with a full pension,” he said. “His company wasn't making it. That's what I think drove Henry crazy.”
“What do you mean, crazy?” Lois asked.
“He was difficult at best. That’s probably why the company wasn’t doing well. He was a genius but… One day I found a program he was working on... the Ides Of Metropolis. When he discovered that I'd seen it he went berserk, threatening me, threatening Lena. I was really afraid he’d gone off the deep end.”
“Why did Lena testify as a witness for the prosecution?” Clark asked.
“She was subpoenaed. She had to tell the truth. And the truth was there was no way she could prove I didn't kill her husband,” Laderman explained.
“She thinks you did it. She said so today,” Clark told him.
Laderman looked shocked. “You saw Lena?”
Lois nodded. “She came to the Planet. It's a good thing you didn't go to her house last night - she's being tailed by the police.”
Laderman went pale. Obviously he had planned on seeing Mrs. Harrison sometime soon. Lois wasn’t convinced that was a good idea. Something about Lena Harrison had simply seemed wrong and Lois recalled having the same intuition about the woman the first time they met after Lena gave her testimony at Laderman’s trial.
Lois stood and stretched. “I'll make some more coffee.” Clark followed her into the kitchen. He moved to her phone and handed it to her.
“Make the call,” Clark ordered.
“Clark, I can't do that!”
Clark glared at her. “Lois! We had a deal. I haven't heard a single thing that makes me feel he's less guilty or less of a threat to you.”
“Clark. Please,” Lois pleaded. “I'm sure about this.”
“You're always sure,” Clark reminded her.
“Two days. Give me forty-eight hours,” Lois bargained. “The man's going to prison for life.”
He was obviously torn between his wish for Lois to wash her hands of Laderman and his dedication to the truth. Lois wondered why she hadn’t noticed it before. Even as plain old Clark Kent, he was dedicated to truth and justice. After a long moment, Clark’s shoulders slumped just a little. Another round to Lois Lane. She heard the shuffle of feet behind Clark and looked over to see Laderman standing in the doorway, a pained, even guilty expression on his face.
“Eugene... what is it?” Lois asked.
“Lena told you that I killed Henry?” Laderman asked. He sounded like he didn’t quite believe he what he’d been told, or that he was asking the question.
“She said you did it for her,” Lois told him.
Laderman turned away, his rounded shoulders slumped even further. Lois glanced at Clark and saw his expression turn curious. There was something very odd happening here. She walked around Laderman to look him in the face.
“Eugene, I think you better tell us the truth,” Lois said.
“Lena was right about one thing. I did do it for her.”
“You killed Harrison?” Lois asked.
“No. I originally confessed, then later, refused to take the stand to protect her.”
“Lena?” Clark asked.
“Yes. She's the one who did it,” Laderman said. “She killed her husband.”
The Ides of Metropolis was written by Deborah Joy LeVine
