Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Aussie Rules (66/68)

Lois withdrew her hands from his grip and placed them on her hips. "Seb," she said. "What is this about? You're worrying me."

His excitement moderated a few degrees, and he thrust his hands into his jeans pockets. "I want you to come with me."

"What? Now? Clark's visiting. He's staying with me."

"Clark can come, too."

"He's not here at the moment. He'll be back soon. I should wait for him."

"Leave him a note," Seb said. "I want you to come with me now. I have something I want to show you."

"Seb, I -"

"Lois." His blue eyes softened. "Come with me," he cajoled. "Please. There is something I want to show you."

"I should wait for Clark to come back."

"You can tell him about it later."

Seb reached for her arm, dislodged her hand from her hip, and pulled her towards the door. "When you came to my shop and asked for the opal, I gave it to you. You asked me to trust you, and I did. Now, I'm asking you to trust me."

He was right - she couldn't refuse him.

"OK," Lois said. "Can I finish my coffee first?"

"No," Seb replied. "Just come with me. There'll be time for coffee later."

||_||


Before we start ...

Note - Toorak is arguably the most exclusive suburb in Melbourne.

http://encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/Toorak


Part 66

"Any hints?" Lois asked as Seb drove them south along Punt Road.

"Nope," he said. His high spirits hadn't waned. In fact, he seemed to be getting more excited as they drew closer to wherever they were going.

"We're going in the wrong direction to be visiting your parents," Lois noted.

"Mum and Dad don't know about this yet," Seb said. "I wanted to tell you first."

"We're too far south to be going to Glenferrie."

He shot a laughing glance sideways. "True."

"Are we going to the beach?" Lois persisted. "Do you have a new surfboard you want to show me?"

"No."

"Does this have anything to do with last night?"

This time, Seb didn't answer immediately. "Before last night," he said after the short pause, "I had decided what I was going to do if the merger was defeated."

"So when the members voted 'no', you went ahead and did it?" Lois deduced. "Whatever *it* is."

He grinned at the frustration in her tone. "Patience, Lois," he said. "You'll know soon enough."

Lois reined in her smile. "Are you OK about what happened last night?" she said. "It got pretty feral there for a while."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I didn't see you there."

"Mum and I left after we'd voted."

"You didn't stay for the meeting?"

"No. We heard some of it from the foyer while we waited to vote. We decided there was nothing more we could do, so I took her to a movie."

Lois sighed. "I reckon that was the smart choice."

"I dunno," Seb said. "It was a momentous night in Hawthorn's history. You'll always be able to say you were there."

"I'm glad you and Barb didn't face the fury of the crowd. It was vitriolic at times."

Seb shrugged. "I voted 'no'," he said, as if telling her something she already knew.

Lois's head jolted towards him. "What?"

"I voted against the merger," Seb said, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.

"But ... but you were so convinced that the merger was the only way we could move forward."

Seb turned left into Toorak Road. "I was. But when push came to shove, I couldn't vote against my two best girls." He turned to her with a wink. "And, just quietly, I think Mum voted against it, too - not that she will admit it ... unless Dad does."

Lois was stunned. "You voted *against* the merger? Because of us? Chris and me?"

"Mostly," Seb said. "But ... also ... when I picked up the pen and saw the words written on the ballot paper ... I just couldn't do it. I couldn't be a willing party to the extermination of my club."

Lois put her hand on his arm. "I hated that we were on different sides, Seb."

"Me, too," he said. He turned left into a residential street.

"Seb?" Lois said. "Why are we going to Toorak?"

He turned to her with a mysterious grin. "You'll see."

||_||

Bill Henderson paused in the hospital corridor and skimmed the paper Perry White had given him.

Either Mayson was brilliant ... or she was delusional.

Her allegations were unequivocal ... and mind-blowing.

Less clear was how she had arrived at these allegations.

And that was going to be the tricky part.

Henderson had worked hard to stay on good terms with the reporter. Her information was sound, her intuition was inspired, and she was usually willing to bring him into the loop before her story hit the newsstands.

But none of that changed the fact that she was a difficult woman - headstrong, opinionated, arrogant, unscrupulous, ruthless, and manipulative.

And with a particular aversion to anyone questioning her conclusions.

This time, her 'story' read more like the unhinged plot of a trashy paperback than something that belonged in any creditable newspaper.

But it was written with compelling certainty. There was no doubt that Mayson believed every word of her staggering claims.

And what claims they were ...

... That Superman had caused the damage to the pipes that had resulted in the gas leaks.

... That Lex Luthor had used prior knowledge of the gas leaks as the means of getting Mayson out of her apartment.

... That Superman had planted the bomb in Mayson's apartment.

Despite the chaotic ruminations and speculative leaps, Henderson couldn't ignore her assertions. These were serious allegations - aimed squarely at two of the most prominent people in Metropolis - and by a respected journalist, no less.

He folded the paper and slipped it into the pocket of his jacket. The door to Mayson's room was open, but he tapped lightly and waited for the nurse.

She walked over to him with a welcoming smile.

"I'm Inspector Henderson, Metropolis PD," he said. "I need to talk with Ms Drake."

"Is this a police matter? Or is it personal?"

"It's a police matter."

"I'm not sure Ms Drake is well enough for a formal interview."

"Yes, I am," Mayson said from the bed. "Come in, Bill."

She was sitting up, but her face was pallid, and although she was no longer in the ICU, she was surrounded by a variety of machines. Henderson stepped forward as the nurse hovered in the background. "How are you?" he asked Mayson.

"My head still hurts," she said. "But they tell me I'm lucky to be alive."

Henderson nodded. Under normal circumstances, he would have filled the conversational gap with a comment about Superman having saved her, but given the assertions in her story - and the fact he wasn't sure if she'd been told that she owed her life to the superhero - those comments seemed best left unsaid.

"I'm guessing this is about my story," Mayson said.

"Yes."

"You want to ask me questions?"

"Yes. But only if you're up to it."

Mayson turned to the nurse. "Could you leave us alone, please?" she asked. "My discussion with Inspector Henderson must be confidential."

The nurse hesitated for only a second. "I'll be at the nurse's station," she said. She looked directly at Henderson. "Buzz me if there are any problems."

Once they were alone, Henderson pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down, surreptitiously studying Mayson. Perry White had said that she was confused about some things, and before being allowed into the ward, the head nurse had issued a stern warning that the patient wasn't well enough for a lengthy interview. "Your story packs a powerful punch," Henderson said, figuring it would be safer if Mayson directed their conversation.

"And you want to know what evidence I have?"

Henderson nodded. "Being honest, Mayson, from what you've written, it's not obvious how you arrive at some of your conclusions."

"Of course not," she said. "I had to put in enough that Perry took it seriously, but I wasn't going to risk a courier stealing my story."

She didn't *seem* to be suffering any adverse effects.

"If I wasn't stuck in here, I would conduct the investigation and bring it to you as the finished product - incontrovertible evidence leading to proven facts," Mayson said. "However, the doctors won't give me an estimate of when I'll be released, so I want you to pick up my case ... on the condition that when you have the evidence, you will ensure that I get the exclusive."

That sounded like typical Mayson. "If there's a story, I'll make sure you get the information first."

"There's a story," Mayson said confidently. "Where shall we begin?"

"Perhaps with the gas leaks," Henderson suggested. "You claim in your story that Superman sabotaged the pipes but because it was not his intention to endanger any lives, he used x-ray vision to pick places that would be least likely to lead to an explosion."

"That's correct," Mayson said. "Lex Luthor called me and informed me of the details of the emergency. However, he lied to me because he said that the leaks would be the result of council-authorised testing - which we both know isn't true."

Henderson nodded.

"After Luthor called me with the information, I went to the scene. I saw you there - talking with Superman."

"Yes," Henderson said. "But that doesn't even come close to establishing Superman as a suspect."

"It proves that I had prior knowledge."

"You have many sources," Henderson said. "If you're going to name someone - particularly someone like Luthor - you need proof."

"Check the phone records," she suggested. "You will see that Luthor called my apartment."

But, as she had to know, that didn't prove what had transpired during the phone call. "Perhaps we should continue," Henderson said.

"As soon as you told me that it was sabotage - not imprudent testing - I knew that Luthor had lied, and I realised why."

"Why?"

"Because he knew that I had a piece of the green rock, and he figured that I wouldn't take it with me to an emergency involving Superman - so it was most likely that it would be in my apartment. He needed me out of the way so he could send someone to steal the green rock from me."

"You believe that the vandalism to the pipes - which could have resulted in a major disaster - was merely about getting you out of your apartment?" Henderson asked, trying to keep the scepticism from sounding in his question.

Mayson nodded. "Obviously. If Superman had intended real damage, don't you think he could've simply smashed the pipes beyond repair?"

Henderson didn't respond immediately. He was beginning to doubt that he would get anything of value from Mayson. However, she didn't seem perturbed, so he should probably continue. "Your story says that the green rock is not, as surmised by Trask, the energy source for Superman, but in fact causes him pain and a considerable weakening of his powers."

"That's true," Mayson said. "I proved that at the wedding."

"The wedding?"

"The wedding of Superman and Ultra Woman. I took the green rock to the wedding, and as soon as Superman was exposed to it, he collapsed - just like he did when Trask had the green rock at the base. My intention was to prove the effect of the green rock, not to stop the wedding, so I started taking photographs, knowing that I would be removed - and once I'd left ... or more accurately, once the green rock had been removed from the vicinity, Superman recovered, and the event was able to continue."

"How did a Planet reporter get an invitation to what was a Star event?"

"Luthor was one of the sponsors. I went as his partner." She grinned. "Supposedly."

Henderson chose not to follow up on the hinted-at tangent. So far, they'd covered small, sub-parts of the story, but he was no closer to comprehending how they fitted together ... or how they led to Mayson's allegations against Superman and Luthor. "So Luthor witnessed the effect of the green rock on Superman at the wedding and concluded that you had some in your possession - hence the phone call to get you out of your apartment so he could steal the green rock?"

"Exactly," Mayson confirmed. "I realised as soon as you told me there were no tests; I ran home, and, as I had expected, the green rock was gone."

"You believe Lex Luthor took it?"

"Not him personally - obviously. I mean, he couldn't, could he? But someone - probably Ultra Woman - took it while I was getting the story of the gas leaks."

Ultra Woman? She was involved, too? Mayson hadn't mentioned her in the notes. "If Ultra Woman had been in your apartment, don't you think someone would have noticed?" Henderson asked. "Pink spandex doesn't blend easily."

Mayson ignored his attempt at a joke. "She would have been in disguise. I know for a fact that she was in the library on Wednesday, and no one noticed her then."

"So Ultra Woman, in disguise, went into your apartment and stole the green rock? What did she do with it?"

"That is yet to be seen," Mayson said. "I guess it depends on whether she is working with Superman, or whether she intends to use the green rock to bring him down - or control him."

Each new thread of information seemed more farfetched than the one before it. And *nothing* Mayson had said gave credence to her allegations. "What did you do when you discovered the rock was missing?" Henderson asked.

"I called Luthor and confronted him."

Why did Mayson assume there was a connection between Luthor and Ultra Woman? That could be a *long* story. Henderson decided simplicity was his friend. "What did he say?"

"He lied again. When I demanded that he return it, he said that he had captured Superman and was using the green rock to hold him."

"Why would Luthor want to capture Superman?"

Mayson giggled. "Clearly that was a lie, too."

Obviously. But Mayson seemed to believe other, equally outrageous, notions. Why stop short of accepting that Metropolis's richest man had imprisoned its superhero? "Why?"

Her glimmer of disdain at his question was short-lived. "Because very soon after that, Superman rescued me from the explosion."

So, she *had* been told about Superman's part in her escape from certain death. "In your story, you allege that Superman planted the bomb in your apartment," Henderson said evenly.

Mayson nodded. "Once Superman knew that the green rock had been stolen from my apartment, he planted the bomb. It fits perfectly because everyone saw him saving the city - so he has an alibi. Of course, an alibi isn't worth much when someone can fly between two places at superspeed. He could have easily left the pipes for a few seconds, planted the bomb, and been back at his 'rescue' without anyone ever knowing he'd left."

"Why would Superman plant a bomb in your apartment and then save you from it?"

"Because it wasn't me he was trying to kill - it was Clark."

"Superman was trying to kill Clark?" Henderson gasped. This hadn't been in her story.

"Yes."

"Why?" Henderson asked. "And why put a bomb in *your* apartment if the intended victim was Clark?"

"Superman knew that Clark and I had arranged to meet at my apartment at five o'clock," Mayson explained. "Superman figured that I would be at the Planet writing up the gas leak story - he wasn't expecting that I would work out that he'd stolen the green rock. He assumed that Clark - who didn't know about the gas leaks - would go to my apartment for our meeting and thus would be there when the bomb detonated."

"But you *were* in your apartment ... so Superman rescued you? Because he didn't intend to kill *you*?"

Mayson smiled exultantly. "See?" she crowed. "It all makes perfect sense, doesn't it?"

No, it didn't. And it certainly brought him no closer to understanding how she'd arrived at such damning conclusions. "Mayson, I can't see any motive for Superman to kill Clark."

Her smile turned secretive. "You would if you knew the truth about Ultra Woman."

"Ultra Woman? You didn't mention her in your report."

"Clark and I had an agreement about not printing that. But he's gone now, so it probably doesn't matter any more. Except, it's not nice to speak ill of the dead."

Perry had mentioned that Mayson seemed convinced of Clark's demise. "Clark isn't dead," Henderson said. "He wasn't at your apartment when the bomb exploded."

A shadow of doubt floated across her face, and her eyebrows converged. "I'm sure he's dead," she said. "Maybe he didn't die in the explosion, but Superman would've found another way to kill him. When I had the green rock, there was some hope that I could protect Clark - but without the green rock, he didn't stand a chance."

There was nothing to be gained from labouring this point. "Mayson," Henderson said. "You've given me no good reason why Superman would want Clark dead."

Mayson frowned for a long moment. "Clark and I had a deal," she said. "That's why we were meeting at my apartment. I said I wouldn't reveal the secret."

"I understand that, Mayson," Henderson said kindly.

"But without it, my story doesn't hold up."

Henderson was glad that he hadn't had to say it.

She shrugged. "Ah, well. He's dead now - he won't be keeping his part of the agreement, so I guess I don't have to keep mine."

Henderson said nothing. He didn't want to push Mayson into anything that might distress her. And, he was reasonably confident that nothing she said was going to prove her allegations.

"Clark - unknowingly - had an affair with Ultra Woman," Mayson said with matter-of-fact nonchalance. "He didn't know that she - with a thin layer of gaudy spandex - was none other than Ultra Woman. I found out and warned Clark. He didn't want to believe me, but there were too many coincidences for it to be anything else."

Henderson decided it was time to end this. Clark Kent having an affair? That assertion had just pushed Mayson's story from questionable conjecture to dangerous delusion. "*That's* why you think Superman planted a bomb in your apartment?" he demanded.

She discerned the change in his tone. "What are the chances that Superman *didn't* find out?" Mayson said emphatically. "He is superfast, he has x-ray vision, and he can hear long distances. What are the chances his wife could get away with having an affair?"

"But with Clark Kent?" Henderson said, knowing his disgust was in danger of showing in his tone.

"Clark didn't know she was a married woman," Mayson stressed. "He had no idea until I told him."

"Mayson, Superman has always been about using his powers for good. Even if he knew that his wife was having an affair, I don't think he would attempt to kill anyone."

"But it wasn't just because of the affair," Mayson said. "Clark and I were going to investigate Superman. I knew about him damaging the pipes, and I knew about him stealing the green rock. I think he was worried that Clark and I together would be a formidable team - even without the green rock." She smiled sadly. "We were going to get married."

"You and Clark?"

She nodded. "Our engagement was to be announced the following day."

"You were going to marry him?" Actually, he wanted to say 'He was going to marry *you*?' but Henderson had had a lot of experience in wording questions in ways that didn't obliterate his chances of getting an answer. "Despite believing he had an affair with Ultra Woman?"

"Clark was very naive. I figured he needed someone like me to keep him out of trouble, so I asked him to marry me. He was going to give me his answer at five o'clock."

A small light of understanding flickered in the baffled quagmire of Henderson's mind. "You did a deal? You would keep quiet about the affair, and in return, Clark would marry you?"

"You've leached every last ounce of romance out of it ... but, yes, that was the agreement. I was trying to save Clark's soft country-boy hide."

*That* - the deal - *did* sound like something Mayson would do. Her harassment of Clark hadn't been a secret. Could this - all of this - be the creation of a mind so jealous, it had become unbalanced? That theory seemed more possible than anything else he'd considered. "But if Superman had done these things, and he knew that you knew - why did he save you from the blast? If he'd hesitated just a few seconds, you would be dead - and then you could never tell what you know."

Mayson smiled coyly. "I have dated Superman," she boasted. "Perhaps he is considering dumping his unfaithful wife and replacing her with me."

"But you've just finished telling me you were going to marry Clark," Henderson exploded.

"I'm not sure if Superman knew that yet," Mayson said. "We hadn't announced it officially. But if he did know - that gives him extra motivation for killing Clark."

"Mayson," Henderson said, softening his voice. "You've been really helpful. I'll chase up the leads you've given me, and -"

"Are you going to arrest Superman?" she demanded.

"I will investigate," he said.

Her eyes turned hard. "You don't believe me, do you?"

This needed to finish. He couldn't just walk out, so he tried to reason with her. "Mayson, you know I can't arrest anyone without evidence."

"I've given you evidence."

"You haven't given me evidence ... not about the gas leaks ... not about the affair ... not about who planted the bomb."

"I *did* give you evidence about the gas leaks," she insisted. "Weren't you listening?"

"Yes, I was listening - but I can't see how you can be sure that Superman damaged the pipes."

"He knew about the damage *before* it happened. That's conclusive proof."

"How do you know he knew about it before?"

"Because he called me and told me."

"You said Luthor called you and told you."

She looked at him as if he were possibly the dumbest cop in the entire northern hemisphere. "You *weren't* listening, were you?" she sniped.

Henderson had to ensure that she didn't get distressed. "I tried to follow," he said lamely.

"But you didn't," she snapped. "If you'd paid proper attention, you would have come to the only feasible conclusion - just as I did."

"Which is?"

"That Lex Luthor is Superman."

||_||

Seb pulled up outside a high front fence in a quiet Toorak avenue.

Lois turned to look up and down the leafy, slightly undulating street. She estimated that every one of the large, majestic homes would carry a six-figure price tag.

"Who do you know who lives *here*?" she asked Seb.

He climbed out of the car without answering and then bent forward to lean casually on the door. "Come on, Lois."

She scrambled out of the car and brushed off her faded jeans and worn t-shirt. "Seb, I'm not really dressed for visiting."

He laughed at her. "I promise you will be all right," he said. He took her hand and led her to the gate. When they arrived, he stopped and fumbled in the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a bunch of keys that included a small black device. "Ah hah." He pressed the button, and they heard a clunk on the other side of the gate. Seb pushed it open.

Lois passed through the gate and gasped. The house was snuggled into an arc of silver birch trees - the deep red of the brick flamed brightly against the ghostly grey of the trunks and the speckled green of the new leaves. The house was low and rambling and meticulously symmetrical ... except for a rather oddly placed turret that rose into the sky from the right extremity of the building. "It's beautiful," Lois breathed in awe. She pointed at the turret. "But what is *that*?"

"A tower, I reckon," Seb said.

"It looks like an afterthought," Lois said. "As if a mischievous child snuck into the architect's office and drew on his plans in crayon."

Seb smiled. "Shall we go in?"

"In?" Like a flash of lightning across a dark sky, Lois understood. "This is *yours*?" she squealed. "You *bought* this place?"

Seb grinned. "Wanna come and look at it?"

||_||

"Mayson, that isn't possible."

A wave of tiredness swept over Mayson. Her head hurt. Her brain felt like it had become clogged with clay. "Of course it's possible," she said impatiently.

"You told me that you were Lex Luthor's partner at Superman's wedding. You said that you took the green rock and because of that, Superman collapsed."

Mayson rallied her brain cells from the mists of her exhaustion. This was important. She had to make Henderson believe her. She grabbed onto a thought as they swirled past like a carousel. "Have you ever been inside Lex Labs?"

"No."

"Ever wondered what they do in there?"

"Ah ... science?"

The stupid cop wasn't taking this seriously, and Mayson's annoyance felt like spikes being driven into her head. She had to make him believe. "Cutting-edge science."

"That doesn't mean they can make two men out of one."

There was another reason. She knew there was something else. Something floating just out of reach ...The space station! "Think about it ... When Space Station Prometheus was threatened ... who had a ready-made replacement?" She glanced to the cop and saw that he was going to need more convincing. "A *space* station. A *space* station." It was easier to repeat herself than to try to construct new sentences. "An alien ... space exploration."

"The wedding, Mayson," Henderson said quietly. "Luthor was there. Superman was there."

"Obviously, Luthor was the fake," she said. "The one in the suit was Superman - he was the one who was affected by the green rock."

"Two men in one place usually means they are two men, not one," Henderson said.

Desperation flooded her flailing and battered brain. Luthor - she had to think about Luthor. Everything had been so clear - now it was hopelessly muddled. Luthor. "Luthor's past," she said. "It's shrouded in mystery. His parents died when he was young ... so did Superman's. Luthor has no brothers or sisters ... Superman said he was the sole survivor when his planet was destroyed."

"Mayson, thousands of people lose their parents when they are young and don't have any siblings."

"Consider this." Her breath was coming fast now. She needed to convince him before her mind would no longer obey her demand for coherence. "An alien arrives on Earth - he has powers, but no contacts, no money, no way to enter society. He needs a human persona. When I researched Luthor for the interview with him, I found no obvious source for his wealth. With Superman's powers, getting rich would be easy - but that's only one side - he needs a *human* face to be able to use all of that money to his advantage."

"Luthor has been in Metropolis for nearly twenty years."

"Superman has never said that his arrival on Earth was recent."

Henderson's questions stalled, and Mayson drove home her advantage.

"Luthor rarely appeared in public," she continued. "For years, he was a complete enigma. The popular myth is that he rose from rags to riches - but exactly *how* he achieved that has never been clear. Then, he established Lex Labs. They worked on disguises - masks that allow one person to look like someone else. And once that technology was achieved, Superman appeared ... for no apparent reason. Not long after that, Luthor *finally* agrees to my long-standing request for a personal interview ... because he's now secure in both of his identities."

Mayson could see that Henderson was tottering on the edge of belief. She summoned her weary and unravelling mind for one final effort.

"Who was pretending to be Luthor?" Henderson asked. "At the wedding?"

"I don't know - someone Luthor trusts. What better way to protect the secret than to have Luthor *and* Superman appear together at such a public event? And having Luthor partner the city's best reporter was a masterstroke. For an alien, he shows occasional flashes of intelligence."

Henderson had gone a little pale. "I've never seen them together, but -"

"Hah!" Mayson said. Her job was nearly done.

"... but I think Lex Luthor is a few inches shorter than Superman."

"Superman wears lifts in those big red boots of his."

"Mayson, this is ... this is unbelievable."

"A man can fly. He can lift a train. He can see through walls. Don't talk to me about unbelievable."

"But *this* ..."

She had to get to the important bit. Time had almost gone. "Are you going to investigate Luthor?"

"I'll make some enquiries. But, Mayson, Perry won't print this - not yet. Not until my investigation is complete."

"Will you give me your word that I get the story?"

He nodded. "When did you realise?"

She'd done it. Henderson believed her. "Earlier today." Or was it yesterday? It didn't matter. "Suddenly, everything fell into place."

"I want to contact Clark and tell him. If his life really is at risk, he needs to be told."

Clark? Mayson searched through the dark nebulous clouds of memory. Clark? "Clark's dead," she said.

"He's not," Henderson said. "He's alive ... He's in Australia."

Australia! That word hacked a deep gouge through her brain. There was a woman ... the reason why Clark kept leaving. There was something about her. Something that Clark didn't want anyone to know. Something Kerth-worthy. "He went to see that ... that football reporter ... " Mayson scrunched her eyes closed and squeezed the bridge of her nose. "There was something about her ... something I was trying to work out before the explosion. Something ... I can't remember ... she took home Charlie."

"Who's Charlie?" Henderson asked.

Mayson shook her head, feeling disoriented. Alone. Lost. "I don't know," she whispered desperately. "He fits somewhere, but I can't remember where."

"It's OK, Mayson," Henderson said gently. He stood and patted her shoulder in a fatherly fashion. "You did great. You remembered so much."

"But Charlie is important," Mayson said fretfully. "I *know* he's important. He ... he worked in the engine room."

Henderson reached across her for the buzzer.

Mayson clutched his forearm with both hands. "I think he worked in the engine room at Lex Labs. And he killed Nigel St John. With a cheap, disposable razor."

From behind Henderson, the nurse appeared. She gently eased Mayson's hands from Henderson's arm. "You need to rest now, Mayson," she said in a wonderfully soft voice. "I'm sure the Inspector has asked all the necessary questions."

Mayson fell back against the pillow and closed her eyes.

Her mind felt like it had been crushed. Everything that had once been so clear ... so important ... so necessary ... it all slipped away to blissful oblivion.

None of it mattered. Not anymore.