Part 20
Lois spent the evening helping Clark clean up the mess the thief left of his apartment. Luckily very few things had been broken. A few books had pages creased when they were tossed onto the floor and the thief hadn’t even bothered with the kitchen except to grab the microwave.
Still, Lois wondered a little at what the thief did take. The television and VCR, the stereo and CD player, Clark’s small collection of music and movies all were fairly typical things for thieves to take. They were easily gotten rid of. But the art had been folk pieces of little value except possibly for a collector, and the trophies had no value except for Clark and his parents. Plus the apartment looked like it had been searched even though Clark’s reaction indicated nothing else was missing.
While cleaning up she took the time to do her own search. If she was right, if he really was Superman, his uniforms had to be somewhere and the most likely place was a hidden spot in his apartment. She almost had it pinned down – the bedroom closet seemed shallower on the inside than normal but by the time she started looking for a hidden latch, Clark had finished with cleaning up the living room and was ready to call it a day.
‘We don’t know why he lost his memory, or his powers,’ Jonathan had told her. ‘…telling him outright might actually make matters worse.’
Was Superman’s globe the key to Clark’s memory and Superman’s return? Or was Clark in such deep denial that even that wouldn’t trigger his recovery? How long would she be able to keep from telling him what she knew? He was her partner…
-o-o-o-
Cat and Jimmy had dived headlong into their bet and were huddled over their family trees, ignoring the bustle of the rest of the news room.
“Your Great-Uncle Howard married the same woman twice?” Cat was asking Jimmy.
“Well, see, he didn't realize it was the same woman... until after…” Jimmy explained. “Howard had poor eyesight, and Aunt Millie suffered from a hormonal imbalance. She used to go through these huge weight fluctuations…”
“If it does turn out we have any of the same genes, I'm having mine altered,” Cat announced.
Lois tuned them out, concentrating on her article. “'And so the cycle repeats itself. Stolen goods traveling from owner, to thief, to fence, to wholesaler, to retailer, and finally to a new and unsuspecting owner',” she read aloud to Clark. “You think it's too wordy?”
Clark rolled his chair next to hers to read over her shoulder. He seemed more tired than usual, yawning and rubbing the back of his neck. He was on his fourth or fifth cup of coffee already this morning.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not really.”
“More nightmares?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not especially,” Clark said. Lois had the feeling he was shutting her out, that more was going on with him than he was willing to discuss.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” she asked. He nodded but his expression was closed to her.
“Did you finish that inventory list?” she asked, changing the subject a little.
“Uh, no.”
“Clark, why are you stalling on this?”
“Why are you so insistent I do this?”
“I'm just trying to help out a friend.”
He shrugged and gave her a crooked smile. “You're trying to write an article.”
“That, too,” she admitted. She pointed to the article on her screen. “See, I put the list in the article as an example of how some people get unreasonably, sentimentally attached to their old junk.”
“Aside from the fact that not all of it was old junk, I would really like to just put this all behind me,” Clark said. “I appreciate you wanting to help but, as I said before, it's my problem.”
“And it’s my story,” Lois protested. “Besides, what about Louie?”
-o-o-o-
To Clark’s obvious astonishment, Louie called Lois right after lunch. They hurried over to the pool hall.
Louie was waiting with one of his people who was knocking balls around the nearest table.
“Where is he?” Lois asked.
Louie jerked his thumb toward a bench against the wall. A young man, a boy really, with dark hair and sullen eyes sat on a bench, his arms behind his back. A pile of CDs, tapes, trophies, and native sculptures. Clark's belongings.
“That your stuff?” Louie asked, indicating the pile.
Clark looked through the pile on the table. After a moment he nodded to Lois.
“Kid tried to move it through a guy who knows a guy I know,” Louie explained. He held up ten hundred dollar bills. “Had this on him, too. Yours?”
“No.”
Louie offered it to Lois. She considered taking it and finally did, putting the money back in its envelope. She approached the boy on the bench. He glared her.
“That's my money, Lady.”
“You robbed this man's apartment?” she asked, jerking her head in Clark’s direction.
“I found that junk in a dumpster,” the boy said. “I should of left it there.”
“How old are you?” Clark asked. He sounded bemused rather than angry.
“How old are you? Look, I don't know anything,” the boy snarled. He struggled to free his hands and Lois realized he was handcuffed. “Just let me go.”
“Louie,” Lois said, giving Louie a chastising look.
Louie nodded to the pool player. He tossed a key to Lois.
“Careful,” Louie warned as Lois approached the boy to release him. “You got yourself a real rabbit there.”
Lois hesitated, considering. The boy was a thief and he’d been in possession of more money than was reasonable for a boy wearing a worn jacket and torn jeans.
“We're not the law, Lois,” Clark said. “He's just a kid.”
Against her better judgment, Lois uncuffed the boy.
He rubbed his wrist and glared at Louie. “Yeah, I could sue you for kidnapping.”
Louie shivered in mock fear.
“I'm waiting for an answer. Did you rob this man's apartment?” Lois demanded.
The boy didn’t answer. Lois watched his eyes as he looked for an escape route.
“Where'd you get the money?” she asked.
Still no answer.
“Look, this doesn't have to go to the police,” Clark said, interrupting Lois. “Everything appears to be here.”
“You could save yourself a lot of trouble,” Lois added, speaking to the boy. “Hey!” she yelled as the boy grabbed the money out of her hand and bolted. Clark grabbed him.
“What's your name?” Clark asked.
“Jack,” the boy spat. He winced. Clark loosened his grip just a little but ‘Jack’ wasn’t going anywhere.
“Just Jack?” Clark asked.
“Yeah, just Jack.”
“A grand in nice new bills is a lot of money for someone trying to make a living selling used CDs,” Lois commented. The boy’s eyes widened momentarily before he looked away from her. Bingo.
“What were you looking for?” Lois demanded.
“Nuthin’”
“There were other break-ins in the neighborhood, but none of the others had their place torn apart,” Lois told him. “What were you looking for? And who paid you?”
The boy winced as Clark’s grip tightened.
“A ring. A fancy ring with a blue stone,” Jack finally admitted.
“And who wants to find this fancy ring with the blue stone?” Clark asked.
“I don’t know,” Jack said. Clark shook him once.
“I swear I don’t know,” Jack protested. “I met this guy with a funny accent who paid me a grand up front to toss the place and find the ring. He promised to pay me another two when I gave it to him.”
“And how is he supposed to get the ring and give you the money?” Lois demanded.
Jack’s shoulders slumped, all the fight gone out of him. “I’m supposed to meet him tonight in the alley behind here at ten tonight, but there’s no way I’m gonna’ show.”
Clark handed the boy one of his business cards. “If he gets in contact with you again, give me a call, okay?”
-o-o-o-
“You don’t have the ring, do you?” Lois asked as they headed back to the Planet. If they hurried she could just make her lunch appointment with Luthor.
“No,” Clark answered. “I gave it back to Henderson while we were still down at headquarters after that whole kidnapping mess.”
“Which kind of limits our suspects to someone who saw you wearing it at headquarters or the sorcerer who escaped,” Lois said, thinking aloud.
“I asked Henderson when he was at my place yesterday if they had any leads on the one that got away,” Clark said.
“And?”
Clark shook his head. “Nothing official… and unofficially who ever it is, is very good at covering their tracks. But this may be the break we need. Apparently that ring has a long history. The stone is from Charles Beaufort’s original ceremonial ring. The stone in its current setting belonged to Anthony Blackthorn.”
“And someone is still after Blackthorn’s legacy?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Clark agreed.
-o-o-o-
Luthor was waiting in the newsroom when Lois and Clark got back. “Lois, I was afraid you had forgotten our lunch appointment,” he announced as soon as he caught sight of her coming out of the elevator.
“I thought we’d agreed you…” Clark hissed at Lois.
“I can’t put him off forever,” Lois hissed back. "It's not like I'm going to marry him… A lunch, that's all."
"Lo-is."
"Clark," she hissed. The last thing she wanted was for Luthor to suspect that she and Clark were anything other than work-mates even if that was all their relationship was at the moment. "I'll talk to you when I get back," she promised.
"You promised you'd stay away from him!" Clark shot back.
"Is there a problem?" Luthor asked, eyeing Clark.
Lois smiled brightly at the billionaire and hurried over to him. "Oh no," Lois assured him, "We've been hard at work tracking down leads for a story and Clark just doesn't know when to take a break sometimes."
"Ah, I understand," Luthor said cheerily. "But all work and no play makes Clark a dull boy, doesn't it?"
Clark sighed, but to Lois's relief, he didn’t rise to Luthor's bait. Instead he headed to his desk and turned on his computer.
"Well then, Chef Andre is waiting," Luthor announced cheerily. He nodded in Clark's direction. "With your permission, of course."
Clark finally looked up at the billionaire and shrugged. "Lois is a grown-up. She can go out with whomever she pleases." He nodded to Lois. "I'll get research onto what we found, see where that leads us."
"I'll be back in a couple hours," Lois promised. Clark simply nodded and returned to his computer.
As usual, lunch was superb. Again, Andre had out done any restaurant in Metropolis, with the possible exception of her Uncle Mike's.
Over dessert, Luthor studied her as though trying to fathom something. "Kent really is quite protective of you," he said. There was an undertone of wonder in his voice. Lois waited for him to continue. "Of course, it is quite understandable. You're quite an attractive woman," he finally went on.
"Thank you," Lois said.
"Of course, I am appalled at the risks you insist on taking," Luthor continued almost as though he hadn't heard her. "Aiding in the escape of a convicted felon, a known murderer. It's something of a miracle he didn't kill you to cover his escape. Desperate men do desperate things."
"He was innocent," Lois reminded him. "It would have been proven when Harrison showed himself after the virus attack. And he did save your computer system from Harrison's attack."
Luthor shrugged. "My people were aware of the problem and were working on a solution. Laderman simply found it first. And who's to say Harrison would have ever come forward to claim responsibility for the virus? He did fake his death for a reason and he killed a man to do it."
Lois conceded the point. If she and Reed hadn't been hot on his trail, it was unlikely Harrison would have been brought to justice.
"Lois," Luthor continued. "I really must insist you at least try to avoid taking so many risks. A story in tomorrow's cat box liner isn't worth your life."
"Is that what you think of the Planet? Tomorrow's cat box liner?" Lois asked.
"Lois my dear, the Daily Planet serves its function, informing its readers of the events that occurred in the city, in some cases even educating them on matters of import. But the days of the crusading publisher are over. Scripps and Pulitzer are no more. Neither is Tammany Hall. There's no need for a reporter to risk his or her life or freedom to right a wrong no one will remember the next day."
"You're saying we didn’t need Woodward and Bernstein? We don't need Gil Gaul or Mark Thompson? Freedburg or Ashenfelter? What about Brazil and Berry? What they did, exposing corruption and cover ups and public danger, was worthless, meaningless?" She was having a hard time believing what she was hearing.
"Orlando and Philadelphia are not Metropolis," Luthor stated gently.
"Oh, and Metropolis doesn't have innocent men and women behind bars? Corrupt city officials, or industrialists who take advantage of lack of regulation, or who simply ignore what's there? There's no one in the city so venal that they'd ignore the public safety to line their own pockets or protect their own hides?" She was angry and frankly didn’t care that he knew it.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I apologize for impugning your chosen profession. I was merely saying that you don't have to take it all on yourself. As I told Clark, all work and no play…"
She just looked at him.
"I mean, you're a woman as well as a reporter…" he continued. He seemed to be trying to mollify her. "A beautiful woman at that." He reached out and caressed her hair, trailing his fingers down her cheek. She jerked away from him then stopped herself.
"I'm sorry Lex," she said, taking his hand. "It's been hard since… you know. I guess I've just buried myself in my work."
"I quite understand," Luthor said, kissing her palm. "Perhaps dinner later in the week? I promise not to talk about your work."
"That would be nice," Lois admitted. She checked her watch. "I really have to get back."
"I'll have Phillip drive you," Luthor offered as she stood to leave.
"Thanks."
She was almost to the door when he called out, "I forgot to mention. My people suspect that when Laderman was working on the LexCorp mainframe, he accessed certain private and highly sensitive files. I was wondering if you knew anything about that."
She turned, trying to act nonchalant. "I'm told Eugene was pretty busy curing the virus. I doubt he had time to break into your files."
"So you know nothing about it?" Luthor insisted.
"I'll ask Clark if Eugene told him anything about any sensitive files he may have accidentally gotten into. But Clark would have told me if anything like that happened," Lois assured him. "Why? What do you think he found?"
"Nothing important," Luthor said. "I'm sure you're right. Laderman was too busy to have broken into my personal files. And Kent would have said something to you, unless…"
"Unless what?" Lois asked.
"Unless he's hiding things from you."
Lois smiled and shook her head. "With Clark what you see is what you get. He wouldn't lie to me about something like that." He'd lie about Superman, but not about a story we were on. And what is Lex up to?
-o-o-o-
Asabi nodded cordially as she passed him on her way to the elevator. The man with him looked oddly familiar but she couldn't place him. She made a mental note to ask Asabi about the man the next time she saw him.
The man noticed her interest and gave her a cold look. She shivered, but not from cold. Evil seemed to pour off the man like a bad odor. The elevator doors opened and she was glad to make her escape.
-o-o-o-
"How was lunch?" Clark asked as soon as she got back to her desk.
"Interesting," she replied. "His people think Laderman broke into some sensitive files. I told him I didn't know anything about them and he suggested you were holding out on me."
"Did he believe you?" Clark asked. "That you didn't know anything?"
"I think so. I hope so." She turned and looked him in the eyes. "Would you hold out on me to get the inside track on a story?"
He gave her a thoughtful look. "I think it might depend on the story," he admitted. "Or if it was information I was allowed to share."
"Like the globe?"
Clark nodded.
"Has anything come back on him?" she asked softly. There was no one near them and anyone watching would assume they were discussing a story.
Clark sighed. "My parents have the globe. But you're right. It's been sending messages about the last days of Krypton, about how the planet was being destroyed. His parents were trying to modify a ship to get him away, to save him."
"Clark, we've all assumed Superman arrived on Earth not long before he appeared in Metropolis, right?" Lois asked quietly. Clark gave her a worried look but nodded.
"What if that assumption was wrong and he arrived earlier than that. A lot earlier."
Clark seemed troubled by the idea. "Lois, if you're thinking what I think you're thinking…"
"Clark…" she tried again. He turned back to the article he was working on. It was one of his most annoying tactics, blocking her out by concentrating on work.
"You're probably right," she said anyway. "It was a ridiculous idea that Superman arrived here as a child, maybe even a baby. I mean, who in their right minds would send a baby off to another planet?"
"People who knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they and their entire world were doomed," Clark answered softly.
-o-o-o-
Clark was very quiet when Lois picked him up to go check out the alley where Jack was supposed to be meeting the man who wanted the ring. She parked the jeep a short distance away from the pool hall.
“Do you think he’ll show?” Lois asked as they made their way into the alley. Lois had their hiding place scoped out – there was a convenient dumpster behind the pool hall.
“Depends on whether or not he knows Jack isn’t going to show,” Clark responded.
Lois checked her watch. The meeting was scheduled in fifteen minutes time. She beckoned Clark to join her behind the dumpster. He hunkered down beside her, pulling garbage sacks over them. Lois was glad she had changed out of her suit and chosen black trousers and a pullover. So had Clark.
Lois was always amazed how good Clark looked in all black and tonight was no exception. She warned herself to stay in focus. They were in the alley to find out who gave the order to rob Clark’s apartment.
A black car drove up, blocking one end of the alley. From where she was, Lois couldn’t identify the make or model of the car.
The crunch of gravel underfoot. A figure in a long coat and a wide brimmed hat was striding down the alley from the other end. The figure stopped near the dumpster and looked around. Lois held her breath to keep from gasping. The single light bulb above the pool hall’s back door illuminated the man’s face momentarily. He was the man she’d seen that afternoon with Asabi.
After a few moments the man looked around the alley again. Then he slowly made his way toward the car.
“It would appear our bird has flown,” a familiarly accented voice said. Lois couldn’t see who it was, but she recognized the voice. Luthor’s factotum, Asabi.
She couldn’t make out what the man in the coat and hat replied. The car sat across the alley for several minutes after the car doors slammed. Then the car sped out.
“That was Asabi at the car,” Lois breathed.
“And the man in the hat looked a lot like the one who got away,” Clark told her, helping her to her feet.
“I saw him this afternoon with Asabi,” Lois told him. “As I was leaving Luthor’s penthouse.”
A/N: The journalists Lois lists are all Pulitzer winners for Public Service (The award goes to the paper in question) or Investigative Reporting.
