Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Accused (12/15)

Blotchy crimson flooded into Lana's cheeks. The gun jerked upwards. Lois dived to the floor behind the sofa.

The blast came, shattering the silence.

Lois heard a thud. And then a clatter.

She peeked over the couch.

Lana was prostrate on the floor. The handgun was lying half a yard from her outstretched hand.

In the doorway was Mrs McCreadie, her feet apart, her arms forward, her weapon pointed. "Better call 911, Ms Lane," she said. "Tell them we need the homicide detectives here."

Homicide? Lana was dead?

Lois rose from behind the couch and moved towards Lana, taking the precaution of kicking the gun out of her reach. "Did you hit her?" she asked Mrs McCreadie.

"Nah. I'm a better shot than that. I was aiming for the floor right between her feet, and that's exactly where I hit."

Sure enough, there was a gouge in the floor between Lana's ankles.

Lana's head and shoulders lifted.

"But next time I'll be aiming straight in the middle of her back," Mrs McCreadie said.

Lana collapsed back to the floor.

Lois picked up her cell phone and dialled Henderson's number.

"Henderson," he said.

"You need to get to Clark's apartment," Lois said. "Bring Wolfe."

"Clark's apartment? Is Clark there?"

"No," Lois said. "You arrested him."

"He's in a holding cell. I ... I thought ... maybe ... Superman ..."

"I don't know where Superman is," Lois said. "But Mayson's killer is here if you're interested in coming and arresting her."

"Mayson's killer?"

"The Prada woman. AKA Lana Lang. The one you should have been investigating from the start."

"Lois, if it's just your word against hers -"

"I have proof," Lois said. "I nailed her cold. And I have an excellent witness."


Part 12

Lois replaced her cell phone in her bag. "You can handle that gun pretty well," she remarked to Mrs McCreadie, who hadn't moved from the top of the stairs or lowered her weapon from where she had it trained on Lana's unmoving form.

"My husband was the only cop in Mount Bethel, Pennsylvania for over thirty years," Clark's neighbour replied. "When we moved there, he said he couldn't be everywhere at once, so he insisted I learn how to handle a gun. I practised until I was the best shot in the entire town."

That explained a few things - the detail and clarity of her evidence for starters.

Lana groaned from the floor. "I feel sick," she said. "Can I sit up?"

"You can sit up," Mrs McCreadie said. "But if you make one move towards the gun or Ms Lane, I will shoot. And the last time I missed what I was aiming for, it was 1979."

Lana awkwardly rose to a sitting position. She hunched over her knees and whimpered.

Mrs McCreadie shook her head. "I can't believe she's still wearing the same clothes. Didn't she know the police would be looking for her?"

"Maybe she figured they would be looking for a male," Lois said. "So she took off the cap, put on a pink ribbon, and thought she would be safe."

"I feel terrible that I got it so wrong," Mrs McCreadie said, her eyes never leaving Lana. "Poor Mr Kent."

"Mr Kent will be all right," Lois said, smiling secretly as she imagined the moment when they told him he was no longer a suspect.

"Will you tell him that I didn't mean to get him into trouble?"

"Of course I will," Lois said.

"I only reported what I saw. But I nearly contributed to an innocent man being charged with murder."

"You saw someone coming from his apartment, dressed in his clothes at a time when you thought he was home," Lois said. "It was an understandable mistake."

"Thank you," Mrs McCreadie said with evident relief.

"And your statement about what you witnessed here will help bring justice for Ms Drake."

"I heard her confess to killing the blonde woman," Mrs McCreadie said, gesturing the gun towards Lana. "I was hiding behind the door, listening."

"Lucky for me, huh?"

Mrs McCreadie's surveillance of Lana lapsed long enough for her to toss an inquiring look at Lois. "You planned this, didn't you?"

Lana's head shot up.

Mrs McCreadie's arms jolted. "Don't move," she barked.

Lana flinched. Then her head dropped slowly back to her knees.

Mrs McCreadie's attention returned to Lois. "You took an awful risk," she said.

"I thought there was a good chance Pannikin would still be too sick for you to leave her. And if you were home, I hoped ..."

"I would be watching?"

Lois shrugged an admission. "But I didn't know you are so proficient with a gun."

"What did you think I would do?"

"Call 911. That's what you did last time. I was hoping I could stall long enough to still be alive when they got here."

"You were lucky. I had dozed off. I only woke up ten minutes before you came. I was just settling back into my armchair with a cup of tea when I saw the black leather jacket right below my window."

"Is Pannikin all right?"

"Yes," Mrs McCreadie said with a relieved smile. "I think she's going to make it." She gaze swung from Lois to the weapon lying on the floor. "Mr Kent must mean a lot to you."

"He does," Lois said. Fearing she had been too transparent, she quickly added, "He's my partner, and I don't like to see anyone accused of something he didn't do."

With a sudden grin that made her look years younger, Mrs McCreadie said, "Nice outfit. I didn't recognise you at first. You would've made a great cop."

"Thanks," Lois said. "But I'm happy being an investigative reporter."

"Understandable," Mrs McCreadie said, nodding astutely. "When your partner looks like Mr Kent."

Before Lois could think of an appropriate response, there was movement at the doorway behind Mrs McCreadie, and Wolfe, Henderson, and a uniformed officer appeared. "That was quick," she said.

Wolfe pulled his gun from its belt. Mrs McCreadie calmly locked her weapon and offered it to him. "It's loaded," she informed him.

Henderson took it and unloaded it.

Wolfe surveyed the room, stopping briefly to take in Lois's clothing. "What's happening here?" he asked.

"This is Lana Lang," Lois said.

Wolfe strode down the stairs, picked up the handgun, and crouched next to Lana. "What's your name?" he said.

"None of your business, cop," she spat at him.

He straightened and turned to Lois. "What happened?" he said. "And why are you dressed like that?"

"She was trying to steal my fiancé," Lana said bitterly. "She thinks dressing like a hooker is going to attract him. I tried to tell her it wouldn't work with Clark, because he -"

"I was actually trying to catch someone else," Lois said, cutting in before Lana could repeat her allegations about Clark. "Clark told me Lana was jealous of what she believed was happening between him and Mayson, so I thought that if I looked as if I were interested in Clark, she might try to stop me in the same way she'd stopped Mayson."

Wolfe shot her a scowl of disapproval. "You used yourself as the bait."

"You were going to charge Clark with a murder I knew he hadn't committed," Lois shot back. "People kept telling me I wouldn't be able to prove he hadn't done it, so the only option left was to prove someone else had."

"The clothes the woman is wearing are exactly the same as the clothes I saw on the person who ran from the apartment after the shot was fired," Mrs McCreadie said from the top of the stairs. "All that's missing is the baseball cap."

"Do you have any form of identification?" Wolfe asked, addressing Lana.

"Nothing I'm willing to show you."

"You need to come to the station with us," he said.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she retorted. "And I'm certainly not going to answer any of your stupid questions. I hate all cops."

"Ms Lang," Wolfe said. "You -"

"She tried to shoot me," Lana said, pointing at Mrs McCreadie.

"Did you?" Wolfe snapped.

"She was threatening Ms Lane with the handgun," Mrs McCreadie said calmly.

"You could have killed me," Lana wailed.

Lois stopped the tape and squeezed the video recorder out from under her top. She held it towards Wolfe. "I recorded everything," she said. "She said her name is Lana Lang and she killed Mayson Drake. She also threatened to kill me."

Lana jumped from the floor and sprang towards Lois with a vicious howl. Wolfe and Henderson flew at her, pinning her arms against her side and restraining her.

"Get your filthy hands off me," she screeched, adding a few choice expletives.

"Then stop struggling." Wolfe's impassive response splashed like cold water against her fury.

Lana stilled.

"You all need to come to the station," Wolfe said, taking the recorder from Lois and giving it to the uniformed cop. "I call for another car."

"I can't," Mrs McCreadie said from the top of the stairs.

Wolfe swung around to her.

"I can't," she repeated. "I've already left Pannikin for far too long. She'll be wondering where I have gone."

Wolfe looked about to inform her that she *would* be going to the station when Henderson cut in. "You take the suspect," he said to Wolfe. "I'll stay here and get statements from Ms Lane and Mrs McCreadie."

Wolfe frowned, but he nodded his agreement.

"What about Clark?" Lois said.

"Kent is in a holding cell," Wolfe said. "That's where he'll be staying until I am convinced he had nothing to do with Mayson Drake's murder." He took out his handcuffs and slipped them on Lana's wrists. "I'm arresting you for the murder of Mayson Drake. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say may be taken down and used as evidence against you in a court of law."

"I hate all cops," Lana said, glaring at him with revulsion. "It was one of you who got me knocked up and -"

"You are pregnant?" Henderson said.

"That's what 'knocked up' usually means."

"One of the men from my station?" Wolfe asked quickly.

"Why? You want to make sure someone covers for him?"

"No. If you -"

"It wasn't here. It was in Rome. A dirty lying Italian cop forced me and now I'm pregnant with his brat."

"He forced you? It was rape?"

Lana nodded slightly.

"Did you make a report?"

"I tried to," she said bitterly. "But they wouldn't listen to me. They told me they weren't going to allow my lies to destroy the career of a fine cop."

"I understand that you're angry," Wolfe said gently. "But you still have to come to the station. Would you prefer that I get a female officer to accompany you?"

"No," Lana said. "It doesn't make any difference to me. You're all scum."

Wolfe assisted Lana up the stairs. "You're weapon will have to be processed," he said to Mrs McCreadie. "I'll inform you when it can be returned to you."

"Can I leave?" Mrs McCreadie asked. "I need to check on Pannikin."

"I'll speak to Ms Lane first," Henderson said. "Then I'll come up to take your statement."

"Yes, you can go," Wolfe said as he moved Lana through the door and out of Clark's apartment.

"Thank you," Lois called as Mrs McCreadie turned to leave. The woman waved and hurried away.

Henderson looked at Lois, slowly shaking his head. "You do the stupidest things," he said.

Lois grinned. "But I proved that Clark didn't kill Mayson," she replied jubilantly.

"It was irresponsible and -"

"I didn't know she would have another gun," Lois said indignantly. "You said you had the murder weapon."

His look plainly spoke what they both knew - procuring a gun in Metropolis wasn't a difficult undertaking. "You should have informed me you intended coming here."

"Do you think Lana would have come in if there had been even a sniff of the cops around?"

Henderson gruffly conceded that point as he moved towards the sofa. He stopped at the open suitcase and sprawling clothes. "All part of the ruse?"

"Yes," Lois said, hurrying to shove her clothes back in and close the lid. "Do you mind if I get changed before you ask your questions?"

"I think that would be a very good idea," Henderson said dryly.

Lois slipped into Clark's bedroom and quickly changed into the jeans, sweater, and sneakers she had left in his closet. Waves of exhilaration washed over her. Clark was going to be all right. He would be saddened by Mayson's death, and he would probably have to overcome some lingering feelings of responsibility because of his inadvertent part in it, but he wasn't going to be charged with murder.

Everyone would know that he hadn't killed.

Lois intended to write the story herself. Just as soon as she'd finished answering Henderson's questions.

When she returned to the living room, Henderson was seated on the sofa, his pencil and notepad out and ready. "Sit down," he said.

She did.

"When did you turn on the recorder you had hidden in your clothes?"

"As soon as Lana appeared in the doorway."

"How long did you have to wait? After arriving?"

"Only a few moments."

"She was watching this apartment?"

"It seems so."

"What made you suspect she would be watching? She could have been anywhere by now."

"When I was here earlier with Clark - we dropped in to get a change of clothes for him - the remaining cosmetics had been taken from the cabinet. The most likely person to have done that was Lana."

"You think she came *in* here?" Henderson asked. "She came back to the scene of the murder?"

"Perhaps she came back to get her Prada dress. Or her skin-care products. They seem important to her."

"Why didn't she get as far away as possible?"

"I think she might have been waiting for Clark. She mentioned something about blackmailing him to stop him going to the police. Perhaps she thought he would return here and they could run away together. She's not from Metropolis, so she wouldn't have necessarily known where else to go."

"If she came back here, why didn't Mrs McCreadie see her? Didn't she think it was important to call us when someone wearing a black leather jacket went into Clark's apartment?"

"Pannikin is making a good recovery," Lois said. "Mrs McCreadie fell asleep."

Henderson glared at Lois and shook his head. "You could have been k-"

"But I wasn't." She nodded to his notepad. "You said you had questions."

Henderson tapped his pen on the pad. "You think jealousy was the motive for murder?"

"Yes. You said you had a strong case, but what possible motive did Clark have for killing Mayson?"

"Mrs McCreadie said she heard a female voice accuse Clark of cheating. Clark's motive could have been to silence Mayson."

Lois managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. "It wasn't Mayson who accused Clark; it was Lana."

"That's what Clark told us."

"In light of that, it's obvious that Clark didn't have a reason to kill Mayson but Lana did. She believed Mayson was competition for Clark's affections."

"So after determining that Lana was jealous enough to kill a rival for Clark's attention, you decided to provide her with another victim?" Henderson said sourly.

"I wasn't sure you cops were actually committed to looking for her," Lois said. "Particularly after you found the murder weapon with Clark's fingerprints on it. I couldn't be sure I would be able to identify her - all I had was a vague description that could have matched half the women in Metropolis. As you said, it's not difficult to change clothes, so I couldn't rely on that. It seemed easier for her to find me."

"Did she actually admit to killing Mayson?"

"It's all on the tape. I think the exact words were that she'd finished her off. Then Lana pointed the gun at me and said she intended to do the same to me."

Henderson jotted a couple of notes and then looked up. "OK," he said. "I accept that Clark left this apartment after Mayson's first visit. I accept that, unbeknown to Mrs McCreadie, Lana was here when Mayson returned. I accept that, in all probability, the person Mrs McCreadie saw running away after the shot was fired was Lana dressed in Clark's clothing."

Lois nodded, keeping her growing elation masked behind her deadpan expression.

"But what I don't understand is what Clark did after leaving here. Why did it take him so long to come to the station? Why didn't he just tell us where he was at the time of the shooting? Why did he refuse to say how he knew Mayson had been murdered? Why couldn't he provide even a hint of an alibi or any details about where he had been after he left his apartment? Why did he do nothing to help himself?"

"I haven't discussed it with Clark, so I don't know for sure," Lois said. "But I have a theory."

"Go on," Henderson said.

"When Clark left here, he was probably feeling agitated. Lana had arrived unexpectedly and announced she is pregnant. Not only that, she also informed Clark that he was going to marry her and be a father to her child."

"But it's not his child," Henderson said. "She said the father is an Italian cop."

"Lana isn't rational, and she seemed to believe that threatening to reveal things about Clark would force him to surrender to her wishes."

"What things?"

"It didn't make a lot of sense," Lois said. "Everything I know is on the tape. But she seemed convinced that Clark would marry her because if he didn't, she was going to tell the newspapers that when they were dating, he didn't take up any of her offers of sex."

Henderson's eyebrow rose a little.

"She said she had thought there was something wrong with her, but after dating other guys, she realised there was something wrong with Clark."

"I think she had it right the first time," Henderson said grimly.

"Yeah," Lois said, thinking how difficult this situation must have been for Clark. And that was *before* Mayson had been killed.

"But if Clark knew Lana was unstable, why did he leave her here?" Henderson said.

"He was probably trying to think of a way to help her. It's possible he called his parents and talked to them. They would know Lana."

"Why didn't he tell us this?"

"Maybe he thought it would look as if he were trying to manoeuvre the blame onto her because she had tried to coerce him into marriage. Or maybe he thought that if he told you about Lana's state of mind, you would be more likely to think she had murdered Mayson."

"So?"

"So, Clark couldn't have known who murdered Mayson. Sure, he probably realised it was most likely Lana, but he also knew what it felt like to have people believe you'd killed just because you were the most likely suspect."

Henderson scowled. "Our case was solid," he said. "Nothing we did was unjustified. And Clark could have made things a lot easier for himself if he'd been upfront with us."

"Ah," Lois said. "There's the problem."

"What problem?"

"Superman."

"Superman?"

Lois nodded. "Superman found out Mayson had been murdered. Perhaps he saw the police cars heading to Clark's apartment. Perhaps he listened in to the police radio, but somehow he knew."

"He arrived here about twenty minutes after we did," Henderson said. "Wolfe was suspicious that he'd already taken Clark somewhere so we wouldn't be able to find him."

"That's why Clark was so reluctant to speak. He was trying to keep Superman from being implicated in this."

"If Superman had deliberately hidden a murder suspect, he was already implicated."

"I doubt he did," Lois said. "I think Superman looked for Clark after he left here. I think he found him and told him Mayson had been murdered."

"Superman told Wolfe that if he saw Clark, he would advise him to give himself up."

"That's probably what he did," Lois said. "But when Clark heard what had happened, his first thoughts would have been for Lana. Had she been hurt by the murderer? Or was she the one who had killed Mayson? Superman would have told Clark that Lana was no longer at his apartment, so they probably decided to look for her."

"Instead of coming to the station and letting us look for her?" Henderson said with biting exasperation.

"Did Wolfe give Superman any details of the case against Clark?"

"No."

"So Superman would have told Clark the police had already decided he was the murderer, but because they had no details, they couldn't mount any sort of defence. It made sense to look for Lana first."

"I suppose you have a theory as to how Clark's fingerprints got on the murder weapon?"

"I think Clark came back to his apartment, knowing the police would be here."

"Planning to give himself up?"

"Yes," Lois said. "But instead, Lana was waiting for him. That's when he took the gun from her."

"He should have come to the station then."

"But he was wanted for questioning about a murder and he was carrying the weapon that probably killed Mayson," Lois said.

"He still should have come," Henderson said. "He should have told us that Lana had been in his apartment."

"Clark had no reason to think you'd believe him. If he'd gone to the station, he would have been in custody and there would have been no one to help Lana if she was innocent or find her if she was the murderer."

"What about Superman?"

"He was occupied saving lives in the subway," Lois said. "Which is why Clark didn't come to the station sooner."

"To protect Lana?"

"Actually, by then, he was probably trying to protect Superman."

"Lois, Superman is invulnerable."

"His reputation isn't invulnerable."

"Go on."

"Clark knew he was the primary suspect in a murder case. He knew Superman was involved - perhaps they had looked for Lana together or Clark had given the murder weapon to Superman. Clark knew Superman was going to be occupied with the subway disaster for a long time. He knew that if he were to go to the station, there was a chance of a leak to the papers - which did happen - about Superman being involved. So Clark held off going to the police until Superman had finished the rescue, so that he, Clark, remained the focus of the investigation."

"That's ridiculous," Henderson said.

"That's Clark Kent."

"He was wanted for murder, Lois. Every second he stayed away, the situation got worse for him."

"Did Wolfe question Clark about Superman's involvement?"

"Yes. Clark closed up. He refused to answer simple questions such as who had told him Mayson had been killed."

"See?" Lois exclaimed triumphantly. "He was trying to protect Superman."

"I don't think -"

"Clark knows how important Superman is to this city. He knows it is Superman's heroic qualities, such as truth and justice and goodness, which make him universally trusted. Clark would be very careful about tarnishing that reputation."

"Even to the detriment of his own reputation?"

"Probably. He suffers from Clark Kent Martyr Syndrome. If you look at *Clark's* motives, you will begin to get some answers to your questions."

"You think he took the gun from Lana? Or she gave it to him?"

"He probably took it from her. He knew there was a strong possibility that she had already killed, and he was worried about what she might do next. She was irrational, and she was armed. That's a dangerous combination. So he took the gun from her, hoping to prevent another tragedy."

"He could have told us," Henderson said.

"Didn't he? Didn't he mention Lana? Isn't that why you let him go after I told you it had been the Prada woman, dressed in Clark's clothes, who had run away from his apartment?"

"He did tell us," Henderson admitted. "But Wolfe didn't believe him. And with good reason. Clark was ducking and weaving and refusing to give straight answers."

"Clark Kent doesn't kill - he protects. He protects the people he cares about. Once you understand that, everything else falls into place."

Henderson grinned suddenly. "You know, Lois, you're one of the most intuitive people I've ever met, but you are exceedingly blind when it comes to your own life."

"You mean putting myself in front of a killer raging with jealousy?"

"That, too."

"What else?"

"I think your theory skates around the truth," he said. "But you're missing the most important piece."

"What piece?"

"Clark didn't stay away from the station to protect Superman's reputation."

"He didn't?"

"No. He was protecting someone else he cares about."

"Who?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Clark told us that when he met Lana, he took the gun away from her because she was threatening to kill you."

"She knew about me?"

"Or course she did," Henderson said. "There are posters."

"Oh. The posters."

"Clark took the gun from her, but Superman was in the subway, and as you said, he knew that if he went to the station, he would probably be held there for a long time. So he spent the night making sure Lana didn't hurt you."

"You think he followed me all night?" Lois said sceptically. "I'm sure I would have noticed."

"I think he either followed you or followed Lana. When Superman came out from the subway, Wolfe took him to the station. He questioned Superman for a while and let him go. Clark arrived about twenty minutes later."

"Enough time for Superman to find Clark and for them to swap notes about Lana?" Lois mused. Except, after Clark had gone to the station, Superman had had to return to the subway, so he'd gone to Perry and given him the cryptic message about the need to protect her. "Did Superman say anything about Lana?"

"No. Nothing."

"Did he admit having had contact with Clark?"

"No."

"He didn't try to explain why Clark hadn't come to the station?"

"No. He said he knew nothing. He said he'd been in the subway."

"Superman didn't make any attempt to explain Clark's reluctance to answer questions?"

"Well, to be fair, at that stage Clark hadn't been asked any questions."

"But Superman must have known that his involvement in this wasn't going to escape scrutiny. I mean, Wolfe dragged him off to the police station within minutes of him emerging from the subway. Did he offer any information to help Clark?"

"He suggested the reason for Clark's non-appearance at the station could have been that he was asleep."

"That's pathetic," Lois said.

"He admitted having flown to Kansas to tell Clark's parents, but he refused to say when he'd last seen Clark."

"He refused?"

"Yeah. He said he hadn't flown him anywhere that night."

"Was he *trying* to make things worse for Clark?"

"He wouldn't have known then if anything had happened while he was in the subway. He wouldn't have had the opportunity to speak to Clark before Wolfe took him to the station."

"If he'd believed Clark hadn't done anything wrong, he would have realised they didn't need to synchronise their stories," Lois said. "All he needed to do was to tell the truth."

"I got the impression ..."

"What?"

"That Superman thought Clark was in trouble, and although he was willing to help privately, he wanted to stay out of it publicly."

Poor Clark, Lois thought as her heart stirred with sympathy. Even one of his closest friends had questioned if he had killed.

"What are you thinking?" Henderson said.

"Ah ... just how difficult this must have been for Clark," she said. "And what he did for me."

Henderson shook his head. "Haven't you yet worked out that Clark would do anything for you? Including it seems, risk being charged with a murder he didn't commit?"

"I ..."

Henderson stood. "Clark could have made this a whole lot easier for everyone if he'd come to the station as soon as he found out Mayson had been murdered in his apartment."

"Yes," Lois said sombrely. "But if he'd done that, I could be dead now."

Henderson stood. "I have to talk to Mrs McCreadie."

"Can I call you later for an update?"

"Are you writing the story now?"

"Yes."

Henderson walked up the stairs. "Depending on what Lana tells Wolfe, I might need to talk to you again later."

"OK," Lois said. "We will help each other."

Henderson left the apartment without replying.

Lois stared at the closed door. Had Clark been protecting her? Had he put her safety ahead of the need to clear his name?

With anyone other than Clark, she would have had doubts.

But this was Clark.

It wasn't difficult to believe he had spent the night guarding her, but what did it mean?

That they were friends?

Partners?

Or that he wished they could be something more?

Lois put her suitcase in Clark's bedroom and left his apartment.

For the first time in her life, she had a big story and felt strangely reluctant to write it. It wasn't because it involved her partner being accused of murder - she intended to write the story in such a way as to definitively quash every possible suggestion that Clark had been anything more than an innocent party caught up in a terrible tragedy.

But she didn't want to write.

She wanted to go to the police station.

She wanted to be there when Clark was released from custody.

She wanted to take him back to the Planet and write the story together.

And most of all, she wanted to get him alone. To assure him of her absolute faith in his innocence. To find out where he'd been during those lost hours.

And to tell him what she had tried to tell him earlier.

How much she regretted spurning his declaration of love.

Lois climbed into the cab that had stopped at her bidding. "Central Police Station, please," she said to the driver.