Chapter Four
>>>Saturday afternoon
Lois spent the rest of Saturday afternoon at her office, trying to connect Lex Luthor and Nigel St. John with any of the illegal activity she already knew about. All she found was some business transactions that possibly skirted the law, but nothing more than that, not even an ignored jury summons.
And that was an interesting story. Lois managed to pull up Perry’s original notes on the story from the Planet’s computer network. He’d somehow heard that Luthor had been sent a jury summons, so he’d slipped down to the courthouse to check it out himself. Sure enough, when the court clerk called the roll of prospective jurors, Lex had answered from his seat, and everything else in the room had ground to a halt.
The clerk’s eyes had bugged out. “Excuse me – you’re – you’re Lex Luthor?”
“Yes, I am.”
“You – are you THE Lex Luthor?”
“If you mean am I the CEO of LexCorp, LexLabs, Luthor News Network, and a number of other businesses, then yes, that would be me.”
“But – why are you here?”
At that point, Luthor had stood. Everyone had seen that he was wearing jeans, tennis shoes, a denim jacket, and a work shirt. “I was under the distinct impression that not appearing here today would be a violation of the law.”
“But – it would, yes, but – well, your lawyers could have taken care of this!”
Luthor had ducked his head and smiled. “You’re probably right, sir, but I decided that if I’m that irreplaceable, then I haven’t done a good job training my subordinates.” He’d opened his hands and gestured to the room. “I’m here just like the rest of these folks, to do my civic duty. I don’t expect any special treatment, and I’ll serve on any jury I’m placed with to the best of my ability.”
“I see. Thank you, Mr. Luthor, but I’m empowered to release from this duty anyone I choose to release. I’m not certain that having you on a jury would be a good thing.”
Luthor’s smile had disappeared. “Oh? Why is that?”
“The defendant deserves an impartial and disinterested jury, sir, and one whose attention is directed to the proceedings. I have a hard time imagining any courtroom where you would be able to fade into the background and allow the focus to remain on the trial.”
“I’m sorry you believe I’m that shallow and self-aggrandizing.”
“I don't have any such idea about you, sir, but because you are who you are, your very presence would distract the other jurors, the judge, the attorneys, the defendant, the plaintiff, and especially the bailiffs, because they’re responsible for security. There are many celebrities who would fall into the same category as you, and I’d release them just like I’m releasing you. I thank you sincerely for your willingness to serve, Mr. Luthor, but I doubt you’d be accepted for any jury, simply because of your notoriety. I’m afraid, sir, that in this case, you are a victim of your own success.”
Luthor’s smile returned. “I see. Am I, then, free to go?”
The clerk had visibly relaxed. “Yes, sir, you are. And I will add a notation to your record that you are excused from any future jury duty, due to your celebrity. Thank you for coming, Mr. Luthor.”
Luthor had stepped to the front of the room. “You’re more than welcome. Have a good day – “ he’d stepped close and spoken in a stage whisper that was heard around the entire room “ – and try not to let anyone leave who’s less famous than I am!”
The clerk had chuckled, the entire room had burst into laughter, and Perry had followed him out, hoping for an interview or at least a comment. All he’d gotten was a generic positive remark about the jury system and the American system of jurisprudence. Luthor had then called his driver on his cell phone and left.
Lois frowned. If this was an accurate retelling – and since Perry’s name was on it, she was sure it was accurate – Lex had made some fast friends that day, generated some terrific PR buzz, and it hadn’t cost him a nickel. It was the kind of thing a sneaky snake like the head of the gunrunning operation would plan to the tiniest detail, right down the engineering the summons in the first place.
But other aspects of Lex’s character didn’t seem to fit with his being a criminal mastermind. She discovered that he’d been funding a cancer research wing of the New Troy Children’s Hospital for the past four years, and there hadn’t been one peep about it in the press. There was also an endowment for the state’s Veteran’s Hospital which paid for two surgeons and fifteen nurses, two fire stations in Metropolis’s inner city that he’d bought and refurbished and donated back to the city, an elementary school completely remodeled and fully stocked with books and desks and other equipment, and a large anonymous annual gift to the Policeman’s Survivors fund.
All of it was anonymous. Even the cops on the street didn’t know that Lex Luthor had provided a measure of security for their families in case the worst happened to any one of them.
She sat back in her chair and pondered. If Lex was dirty, these activities would make a good cover for him, but only if it was public knowledge. This was all done in secret. His behavior didn’t fit her image of a bloodthirsty criminal mastermind.
Was it possible that he was holding these activities in reserve, waiting to go public with them to save his image if someone dug up some dirt on him? Could he be that glacial? Was anyone that calculating?
She sighed. She wouldn’t break this case today. She’d go home, have an early – and dateless – Saturday evening, go to bed early, spend Sunday resting, and hopefully be ready for a new week on Monday.
When Clark was coming back to work.
She tensed at the realization. It would be a long weekend after all.
>>>Monday, 7:43 AM
Lois was seated at her desk when Clark came in. She happened to glance up at the elevator – okay, she admitted to herself, she was looking for him. Their eyes met for a moment, but she couldn’t read the expression on his face.
“Hello, Clark. Welcome back.”
His eyes didn’t change, but his mouth relaxed a little. “Thank you, Lois. It’s good to be back.”
“Are you okay? You look a little thin.”
“I don’t get thin. I don’t get heavy, either, or at least not so far.”
She loosened up a little and grinned. “I wish I had that kind of metabolism.”
“Sorry. It’s genetic.”
She nodded. “How are you doing?”
He sighed and put his hands in his pants pockets. “About as well as can be expected, I guess.”
“Have you been in Smallville?”
He met her gaze directly. “Are you asking me if I’ve been hiding?”
She held his eyes with hers. “No. I’m making conversation with a co-worker.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I’ve been talking to my parents. A lot.”
She nodded. “Good.” She broke eye contact and reached for a business card beside her phone. “If you feel like you need to talk to someone else, here’s the number for my therapist.”
Clark took the card with raised eyebrows. “You’re seeing a therapist?”
She shrugged. “Survivor’s guilt. I made it out, Lana didn’t.”
Lois watched him to see how he’d react to any mention of his wife. He didn’t bat an eye, which she suspected was not as good as a slight reaction would have been.
He nodded. “I understand. Maybe I’ll give her a call.”
“If you do, make sure you tell her who gave you the card.”
He almost grinned. “Why, do you get a referral fee?”
She almost grinned back. “No. So we don’t meet each other between sessions. Dr. Friskin says that it’s not always a good thing for people who know each other to meet in their therapist’s outer office.”
He glanced at the card again, then tucked it in his shirt pocket. “Thanks.”
Perry chose that moment to poke his head out of his office. “Lois! Have you seen – oh, never mind, there he is. Clark! Come in for a minute, son. I need to talk with you. Say, Lois, have you started on that car-jacking ring story?”
“Just this morning. You want a status report already?”
“No, I just want you to be careful. Two victims have been seriously injured already, and I don’t want you to add yourself to the list, okay?”
She nodded. “Careful’s my middle name.”
He frowned. “Thought your middle name was Dangerous.”
She glanced at the scar on her hand and tried to defuse the memory by being flippant. “I’m a woman. I can change either my mind or my identity any time I want to.”
Perry looked at her closely for a moment, then nodded and closed the office door behind him. Lois wondered what he and Clark were talking about. She idly wished she had his special hearing talents.
She turned her focus back to her new assignment. A group of youths were taking expensive luxury and sports cars from people stopped first in line at traffic lights, almost always in the right lane, and always from lone drivers who weren’t wearing safety belts. One thief would knock on the passenger window and ask an innocuous question about the time or how to get to main library or where the courthouse was from there. When the driver was sufficiently distracted, the second thief would smash the driver’s window out with a crowbar – assuming it wasn’t already open – and unlock both front doors. The first thief would then yank open the door, pull the driver out of the car, and drop him or her on the passenger side curb while the second thief would jump behind the wheel and race away.
One woman had struck her head on the curb and suffered a fractured skull. A man had fought back and been beaten unconscious. Both victims were recovering, but the injuries prompted the police to repeat their standard warning that your life was far more valuable than your car and far less replaceable.
The youths were dressed neatly in business casual clothing, which made them appear less threatening to the drivers. Only one victim had reported a non-Caucasian thief, and the victim wasn’t sure if that one had been black, Hispanic, Asian, or Arabic. No one had heard any names mentioned, the clothing they had worn had been neat and clean, and it all appeared to be department store brand items.
Lois considered making herself bait to catch them in the act, but quickly discarded the notion. Her Jeep wasn’t ritzy enough to tempt them, and she couldn’t afford to rent or buy a Porsche or Jaguar or Lamborghini just for one story. She’d just had her six-month review and been commended for her industry and accuracy, but she was still one of the new kids on the floor. She’d have to do this the old-fashioned way, from the outside in.
She put the folder down and leaned back in her chair. She’d have to get someone else involved in this. Maybe Claude could do some of this stuff.
Claude? Nah. He wouldn’t lower himself to actually help her with her story. Maybe Clark would –
She pushed the thought away as soon as she realized what she was thinking. She couldn’t ask Superman to do legwork for her! Not only would it be demeaning, it would be – she couldn’t think of a term to describe how awkward that conversation would be.
Clark chose that moment to exit Perry’s office and walk to her desk. “Lois, Perry asked me to tell you he wants to see you.”
“Thanks.” She stood and he turned to walk away, but stopped when she said, “Hello again, Clark.”
Their eyes met again. She still couldn’t read him. “Was there something else you wanted to ask me?”
She hesitated, then said, “No, I guess not. I hope everything – “ She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.”
“No, it wasn’t. I appreciate your concern.”
“Thanks. I’m not the only one, I’m sure.”
“There are a lot of people treating me like I’m made of glass right now. I hope you won’t be one of them.”
She nodded. “If you say so. I don’t want to do or say anything that would – upset you, you know?”
“I’m still putting one foot in front of the other, Lois. And I’ll be in the office full-time from now on. I’ve got to go on living, just like everyone else. I can’t expect people to live their lives just so they don’t upset me accidentally.” He hesitated. “What about you? How are you doing? Really?”
“Me? I’m fine, just fine. I’m doing fine, thanks, yep.” That’s wonderful, she thought, babble on about how fine you are.
He nodded slightly. “I’ll see you around, then.” He pointed at the editor’s office. “Perry’s still waiting for you.”
“Oh! Right. See you later.”
Flustered, she fished in a drawer for pencil and notepad, then knocked on the editor’s office door. “Chief? You wanted to see me?”
He waved her in from his desk. “Close the door and have a seat. Let me finish this.” He uncovered the telephone receiver. “That’s right, Paula, Clark’s back and I still want you to partner with him. Kid gloves? That’s your call, but I think he can take it if you need to push him a little. But just a little, okay? I don’t want you to run him off. Sure. Ha-ha! Yeah, I remember. Okay, see you after lunch.”
He put the phone back on the cradle. “I’m keeping Clark with Paula for the time being, but it’s not like they’re joined at the hip, so you and Clark can work on some things together too.”
Her eyebrows did flips. “Me and Clark? Really? Are you sure about that?”
“Yep. That’s part of what I wanted to talk to him about. I think you two can work well together.”
She frowned. “I don’t know about that. Clark is so much better with the ‘soft’ stuff than I am. He’s better with people, too. I’m more the type to break into a business to get the goods, and Clark would charm the receptionist into unlocking the entire building.”
“That’s true. And that’s part of the reason I want you two to pair up on occasion. Your different approaches to the story will compliment each other, and maybe he can keep you from being arrested.” Perry lifted his hand and rushed past her objection. “Besides, I think your writing styles will dovetail. You’ll drive each other to new heights of expression.”
“New heights of expression, huh? Okay, if you say so.” She tilted her head to one side. “What does Clark think about this idea?”
“He’s almost as enthusiastic about it as you are. Besides, he knows who signs his paycheck.”
She nodded, thinking that she’d have to talk to Dr. Friskin about this, too. Then another thought popped up. “Perry, what about Claude? Won’t he be upset?”
“Don’t much care. Claude doesn’t drive this train, I do. Anyway, you and he have pretty much the same kind of loose partner relationship that Clark and Paula have. You’re not married to him. And Claude’s not totally comfortable with you right now, not that that’s a completely bad thing. He needs to stay on the straight and narrow, and I’m not sure he’ll do that hanging around you all the time.” He stood and walked to the front of the desk. Before Lois thought to ask what his last comment might mean, he continued. “There’s a couple more things I want to talk to you about before you get back to work.”
She leaned back and frowned. “Okay.”
“How are you doing? And be honest with me. Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”
She froze. “Has Dr. Friskin talked to you?”
“Hold on now!” He lifted his hands. “Lois, all I know about your sessions with her is that you’ve attended every one, and that’s only because the Planet is picking up the tab. I promise, no one’s told me diddly-squat about what you two have talked about. For all I know, she’s helping you write your first novel.” He squinted. “Or maybe you’re helping her with hers.”
Lois relaxed and grinned. “I’m sorry, Perry. I guess – I’m a little tense.”
He nodded. “And?”
“Well – I haven’t been sleeping very well.”
“Didn’t think you were impersonating a raccoon.”
She chortled humorlessly. “No.”
“What else?”
She sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about Lana. I don’t mean she occupies my mind every waking moment, but when I slow down or try to relax or when I see my hand I think about her. That’s when I remember that she’s – that Clark is a widower because of me.”
“You think he blames you?”
She crossed her arms and folded in on herself. “No. I blame me way more than he does. Clark’s been as generous to me as he possibly could be.”
“I know. You might say he’s been absolutely super about it.”
Lois flinched. “What does that mean?”
Perry sat on the edge of the desk and turned away from his inside window. “When I talked to Clark, I asked him why Superman flew all the way back to Metropolis to get him before he took you off the ship.”
Lois felt a cold chill in the middle of her back. “And he said what?”
“That I’d have to ask Superman that question.”
“Okay. And you said?”
“That I was asking him.”
Despite being startled, she retained enough presence of mind to look at the outside window. “Superman was here? And you didn’t tell me?”
Perry smiled warmly. “It’s okay, Lois. Clark fessed up.”
“What?”
“He confessed. He told me he’s Superman. And he told me you already knew.”
“Oh.” She sat back in the chair and let the chill out with a deep sigh. “So much for keeping secrets.”
“Now don’t be like that, hon. I figured it out by myself. He just confirmed it.”
“Why did he tell you that I knew?”
“I asked him straight out. I figured since you were out there, you would’ve already made the connection.”
She lowered her gaze. “Lana told me. After she got hurt.” Lois hesitated, then continued. “I think – I think she was trying to keep me from doing something stupid that might get us both killed before Clark – before Superman found us.”
He nodded slowly. “I see.” He stood and moved back to his chair. “How do you feel about that?”
She bristled. “You’re a shrink now? I’m saving that for my next session!”
“Easy, Lois, easy. I just want to know if this is what’s been affecting your work lately, that’s all.”
“Oh.” She slumped a little in her chair. “You mean as opposed to something else in my otherwise pristine life?”
Perry didn’t answer this time. Lois shook her head. “Yes, along with the rest of my load of guilt, the fact that I found out that Clark Kent and Superman are one and the same from the woman whose death I caused been hanging over my head for weeks.” She sighed. “Anyway, I’m glad you know about it. He’ll be able to cut out for Superman emergencies without too much of a problem.”
“That also means that you’ll have to cover for him at times. You think you can handle that?”
She nodded. “I’m a reporter, a guardian of truth and justice and the highest ethical standards of the profession. I can lie convincingly with the best of them.”
He chuckled. “That’s what I thought. Now to more mundane matters. How’s the Luthor piece coming?”
“I’ll have it for you by the end of the day. As requested, a nice, clean, boring personality profile.”
“Good! You still think he’s dirty?”
She frowned and sat up. “Something weird is going on at LuthorCorp, but I’m not sure what it is. I’m not even sure now who’s responsible for it, but I promise I’ll keep digging until I find out what it is. Oh, I picked up something for that new gossip columnist, Cathy? Katie? I can’t remember her name.”
“Catharine Grant. Goes by Cat. Writes a gossip column titled ‘The Kitten’s Paws’.” He shook his head. “Gossip. You’d think people would have better things to do with their time.”
“People want to be informed, Perry.”
“You just remember to keep me informed of your future activities, young lady. I don’t want to write your obituary any time soon.”
She paled slightly. “You fight dirty, don’t you?”
“I do what I have to do to protect my best people. You and Clark have become two of those best people.” He leaned forward. “And I don’t want you to lose your edge because of this. You’re ferocious with a story, or at least you were before this happened. Be human, Lois, and care about people, but don’t let your feelings stop you from doing your job.” He stood. “Now get out there and find me those carjackers.”
“As soon as I talk to Catharine about this tidbit.”
“Right. Give the public what they want, and maybe they’ll get what they need, too.”
Instead of tossing off another riposte, Lois left Perry’s office in silence. She stopped for a moment and scanned the room for the gossip writer’s desk. She was easy to spot; her long auburn hair and open, breezy manner made her stand out like a nun at a cabaret. Lois headed in her direction.
She was on the phone with someone, cooing like a dove. “Come on, Ronnie, you can tell me. Of course not! Look, I know that George and Jennifer want this to come out, you know that I know it, and I know that you know that I know it. All I need from you is a confirmation. No! Ronnie, you know I don’t print what I can’t confirm. Why do you think I’m talking to you now? Of course. Yes, I understand. Next Thursday at three-thirty? Honeymoon at a private chalet in Bermuda? I didn’t know Bermuda had any chalets. Oh, The Chalet! The name of the hotel! They rented the whole thing? Oh, the guests are staying there, too? Wow, that is a big wedding. Got it. Thanks, Ronnie. Give Ranger my love, and give him an extra apple for me. And don’t ride him too hard unless you rub him down afterwards! Bye for now.”
Lois waited until the stunning redhead finished jotting down her notes. “Miss Grant? I’m Lois Lane.”
The other woman looked up and smiled. “Yeah, I know. Sit down, take a load off.”
“That’s okay, I won’t be long.”
“Your choice. Call me Cat, everyone else does. What can I do for you, Lois?”
“I have two things for you, actually. I ran across some things I can’t use but maybe you could. I heard that Peter Burton was in town the other day. He had a lunch meeting with Lex Luthor and they talked about some kind of movie deal.”
Cat smiled wider and nodded. “I’d already picked that up, but it’s nice to have it confirmed. Luthor is financing some historical epic Burton wants to do. It’s supposed to make ‘Gone with the Wind’ look like a Warner Brothers cartoon. Read about it in my column first!” She leaned back, still smiling. “What’s the other thing?”
“Jackie Michaelson visited Luthor at his office last week, and my source says it sounded like Luthor was going to back her latest tour.”
Cat’s eyes widened. “Really? Oh, wow! I knew there was big money behind Jackie’s latest tour plans, but I didn’t know about Lex Luthor being involved! What else can you tell me? You have any dates? Who’s your source?”
Lois lifted her hands. “Whoa! That’s all I have, honest. It came up in a conversation about something else. And I can’t reveal my source. I need her for another story.”
Cat smiled. “Hey, I understand. No problem. Thanks for the tip! This is good stuff! If I hear anything about any criminal activity, I’ll bring it to you first, okay?”
Surprised, Lois nodded in agreement. Cat could be a good conduit for information. “Sure. And if I hear anything that fits better in your column than in one of my articles, I’ll bring it over.”
Cat stood and put her hand out. “Deal!” They shook hands. “Say, I’m going to lunch early today. You want to tag along?”
Lois hesitated. “I better take a rain check this time. Sorry, but I already have plans.”
“No problem. We’ll do it some other time. Thanks again for the tip.”
“You’re welcome.”
Lois returned to her desk, thinking that maybe she could use a girlfriend. She hadn’t trusted other women since Linda King had double-crossed her in college, and it was probably time to stop blaming all female journalists for what Linda had done to her. Yes, Cat Grant could be her friend. Goodness knew, she needed some friends.
She sat down at her desk and the phone rang. “Lois Lane, Daily Planet.”
“Hi, Lois, it’s Rebecca.”
“Oh! Rebecca, I’m glad you called. Is everything alright?”
“Sure, everything’s fine. Mr. St. John gave me a ride back to work after lunch on Saturday and he was a perfect gentleman. I guess I repeated some pretty bad rumors about him to you.”
“So what are you saying?”
“That I don’t think he’s quite the bad guy I told you about. He has a pleasant side – whoops, hold on, got a call.”
A stunningly dull instrumental version of the Beatles’ “Nowhere Man” began playing over the phone while Lois was on hold. The song was almost finished before Rebecca came back on the line.
“I’m back, Lois. Sorry about that. It was a business call.”
Lois almost asked her about it, then drew back. Maybe Rebecca could be more than a source. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
“I didn’t get my dessert on Saturday.”
Lois chuckled. “You know, I didn’t either.”
“Then let’s meet there tonight and force your Uncle Mike to say, ‘Niece, niece!’”
Lois leaned back in her chair and shook like a skinny bowl of jelly. “Ha-ha-ha! Sure, that sounds great! What time?”
“Six-thirty okay with you?”
“Should be. I’ll call Mike’s and leave a message if I get hung up.”
“It’s a date! I’ll see you there. Bye!”
That girl’s enthusiasm is contagious, thought Lois. She lifted her gaze to Cat Grant. Speaking of contagious enthusiasm and friends, there’s no time like the present.
She suddenly found herself standing beside Cat’s desk. “Hi, Cat.”
“Hi, Lois. What’s up?”
“Uh, you know that lunch invitation? Is it still open?”
Cat smiled warmly. “Your date canceled on you, huh? The dummy.”
Lois started to protest that she hadn’t actually had a date, then simply shrugged. “My plans fell through.”
“Too bad for him, but lucky for me. Yeah, we can still make it. I have reservations at La Bamba at eleven-thirty. How’s that sound?”
Lois stared. “La Bamba? You have reservations there?”
Cat grinned conspiratorially and held her index finger up in front of her mouth. “Not so loud! Everybody in the building doesn’t need to know.” She held her hand up and crossed two fingers. “The manager and I are like this. Besides, all the ‘A’ list people in Metropolis eat there. Lunch is a great time to pick up some juicy gossip.”
“Good. You want to drive or shall I?”
“Drive? Sorry, but in your car? Ooh, Lois, Jeeps are so last year. We simply have to take a cab.”
Lois sighed. “Lunch with a sexy gossip columnist at the city’s top lunch spot and a classy cab ride to boot. I don’t know if my tattered psyche can stand this.”
Cat reached out and patted her hand. “We’ll work on the psyche later. Today is for your ego.”
