LAST TIME ON EMII:

Then Judith said, "What did happen to you, anyway?" CJ recognised the tactic. The question was born more from a desire to buy more time while she made up her mind what to do for the best than from any real curiosity.

Lois flicked a glance towards CJ then shook her head fractionally. "Nobody really knows."

"Oh," said Judith. She jiggled her mug between her hands. It scratched against the table top, an irritating sound that set CJ's nerves on edge. He resisted the urge to ask her to stop, knowing that she needed to release some of her tension somehow, and waited for her to say something more.

Finally, she sighed and, committed, said, "All right. I'll tell you."

NOW READ ON...


CHAPTER SEVEN

Even after resolving to tell her story, it took Judith several minutes to begin. CJ and Lois waited, hiding their impatience behind their mugs as they worked their way through their drinks. Finally, however, Judith began to talk. "I was working on a Christmas card design," she began.

Lois frowned and couldn't help interjecting, "Christmas in April?"

"Yes. For next season. I design greetings cards. Did you know that?" Judith looked up just long enough to see both Lois and CJ shake their heads mutely. "Stupid job really," she elaborated, "but someone's got to do it, and it might as well be me. I do other stuff too – what I like to think of as 'proper' work. Portraits. Landscapes. Stuff like that. But the greetings cards are good bread and butter work. Anything else is just icing on the cake." She glanced at CJ and Lois and, seeing their nods of encouragement she proceeded with her story. "So, anyway, I was working late when I heard a car pull up outside. I didn't think much about it: my neighbours do a lot of entertaining, so I just assumed it was something to do with them."

"Any idea of make?" interrupted Lois.

Judith shook her head. "I'm no good with cars. They've never held much interest for me, to be honest. All I ever notice is the colour, and not always even that." That was a pity, thought CJ. However his ears pricked up as she said, "If you want to know more, you could always ask Mrs Sissman whether she noticed anything. She's always peering out of the windows and writing things down. She co-ordinates the Neighbourhood Watch – says it's her civic duty to be vigilant, but, to be honest, I think that's just an excuse for her to pry into everyone else's business. She's a real curtain-twitcher, that one."

CJ was interested to note that the criticisms were made more with affection that rancour. Lois, clearly, had also picked up on the apparent paradox, because she said, "And you don't mind that?"

Judith shook her head. "No. Why should I mind? It's not as though I've got anything to hide. Plus Mrs Sissman doesn't have much else to keep herself interested, poor woman. If it keeps her happy, where's the harm?"

CJ wasn't sure that he agreed with her line of reasoning; even under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have been happy being under constant surveillance, no matter how well intentioned, and now was far from normal. A glance towards Lois told him that she, too, was sceptical. Scepticism or disapproval aside, he found himself grateful for Mrs Sissman's existence, and he found himself saying, "All right. We'll check with your neighbour later."

There was silence then. Lois reached across and gently touched Judith's forearm. "Go on," she said softly. "The car pulled up outside...?"

Judith nodded and closed her eyes, casting her mind back to that fateful night. "There was a knock at the door, and when I opened it, there was a woman there. She was dark. Attractive. It was odd, really. She was dressed in..." She frowned. "It looked like a chauffeur's uniform, I suppose. She was even wearing driving gloves and a peaked cap. It looked pretty good on her. There was a man with her, too."

"A man?" asked Lois carefully. CJ could tell that she was being careful not to let her excitement show. However, the way she leaned forward in her seat told him that she was interested in what was being said; it was the kind of stance he hoped to see in the courtroom whenever he was performing for the jury.

"I never got a good look at him," Judith said. "He hung back a few feet. In any case, he was wearing a fedora, which meant that his face was in shadow. I heard him speak, though."

"Oh?" asked CJ. "Anything distinctive about his voice?"

"No... Not unless sounding well-bred counts as distinctive. Although, it was odd. I remember thinking that it sounded vaguely familiar." Judith shook her head. "The woman... If you want, I could draw her for you."

CJ and Lois exchanged glances once more, silently agreeing that they could not turn down such an offer. Speaking for both of them, CJ said, "That would be great, if you could."

"Hold on a minute then, while I get my sketch pad."

CJ and Lois waited in expectant silence as Judith disappeared from the room. She returned a few minutes later with the assorted paraphernalia of her craft.

She sat down and began to sketch deftly. Before their fascinated eyes, she blocked out the outline of a woman. Then, with the practised ease of a skilled artist, she began to fill in the features. She obviously had both an eye and a memory for detail.

CJ could tell that Lois did not recognise the woman in the picture, but then she wasn't as familiar with the Luthor files as he, himself, was. He determinedly hid his excitement behind what he thought of as his courtroom mask as the face of Monique Kahn came to life before him.

Monique was on the list of people Lois was going to investigate; CJ wondered if she had made a start on her yet. Was the Monique on this world employed as some sort of enforcer for Luthor, just as she had been on the other? Or was she working for someone else? CJ hoped fervently that he had found his common link, but that remained to be seen.

Judith sat back, surveyed her handiwork critically, tilting her head to one side and narrowing her eyes. "That's the best I can do. There's something about it, though... Something about her... She was... I don't know... a bit creepy. I can't capture that."

"How do you mean 'creepy'?" asked Lois.

Judith shook her head fractionally. She put the sketch pad down and began to talk with her hands, letting them convey her frustration at not being able to adequately articulate the reasons for her unease. "She was too smooth. I don't mean sophisticated. Just... cold... somehow. As if there was something missing. She seemed to enjoy what she was doing too much. She was getting enjoyment from it. I could tell. But it wasn't a normal kind of enjoyment. She wasn't happy exactly. I mean, she didn't laugh, or anything like that. It's just... There was something in her eyes – they looked almost sated, I suppose, as though she was getting off on what she was saying."

CJ nodded thoughtfully. That accorded with what he had heard about her otherworldly counterpart. "What did she say, exactly?"

"First, she asked me if I was Judith Myerson. Then, when I said I was, she said she was going to make me an offer I couldn't refuse. I thought that was quite funny. I mean, whoever says things like that? I told her that, if they were selling anything, I wasn't interested, and, in any case, wasn't it a bit late for them to be going door to door. She said they weren't selling. In fact, they were there to give me the chance to make some easy money. Well, then I knew something wasn't right. I mean, there's no such thing as easy money. What's that phrase? There's no such thing as a free lunch?"

CJ nodded.

"Anyway, she said that she would give me twenty-five thousand dollars for doing nothing, with the possibility of getting another twenty-five if I was prepared to do this one little thing for them."

CJ leaned forward in his chair. He'd known from what Lois had told him earlier how the system worked, but to hear it for himself... He was spellbound by Judith's recitation.

"To get the fifty thou, I had to agree to find Sean Allen not guilty and I had to be selected for the jury."

"And to get twenty-five thousand?" asked Lois.

"I'd get twenty-five thousand if I wasn't selected. They even said that, if I didn't want to go along with the idea – if I felt uncomfortable about rigging the vote – they would give me twenty-five thousand if I made myself unselectable during the vo... voi... something process."

"Voir dire," said CJ.

"Yes," said Judith gratefully. "That's it. During voir dire."

"But you didn't go along with that idea, either, did you?" said Lois.

"No. I mean, that would have been wrong, wouldn't it?" There was a beseeching undertone creeping into her voice that suggested she needed reassurance for some reason.

"Yes," murmured CJ. "It would have been very wrong."

"I thought so, but now..."

"Now you're not sure?" asked Lois.

Judith nodded miserably.

"Just because bad things happened, that doesn't make your decision to do what was right a bad one," CJ said.

"I wish I could believe that."

"Believe it," he said. There was a conviction in his voice that he couldn't remember having heard there for a long time, if ever. "There are three things in the world that I believe are worth fighting for. They are truth, justice and love." For some reason, as he said the last word, he found his eyes flicking across to Lois. "Without those, there is nothing. Those things are worth believing in. They are worth fighting for."

"Truth, justice and love," Judith repeated thoughtfully. Then, slightly helplessly, she asked, "What do you do when fighting for one means you neglect one of the others?"

"How do you mean?" asked Lois.

"It was the man," she said. "He told me I'd misunderstood. He said – and I remember his words exactly – 'My... assistant... told you that we're making you an offer you can't refuse.'" She glanced between them, willing both CJ and Lois to understand. "'Can't'. Do you see? It was a classic carrot and stick scenario. They didn't tell me, and I didn't see how they could, but they left me in no doubt that if I didn't do exactly what they wanted, I would suffer. And I have. Oh, God! I have!" She placed her face in her hands as her shoulders began to shake again. Her words were muffled as she moaned, "I have, but not as much as Clive!"

Lois, CJ noticed, was looking decidedly uncomfortable. Her eyes were wide with tension and the skin was pulled taut across her cheeks. She was chewing nervously on her bottom lip as she reached jerkily towards Judith and pulled her into a stiff embrace, offering what little comfort she could. CJ was impressed by that; here was Lois, in need of comfort herself, but nonetheless finding it in herself to care about and offer what sympathy she could to another.

CJ's voice was soft as he asked, as gently as he could, "Why did they go after Clive instead of you?"

"Why?" Judith asked, startled by his question into an almost eerie calm. "I would have thought that was obvious."

"Not to me," he answered.

"Clive is the only leverage they'd got. I own the house. I don't have any debts. I don't have any family, other than Clive. I never thought they'd go after Clive, not just to get back at me. I didn't see the danger. Couldn't even imagine any danger, really... And now I don't see any way to put things right again..." Her voice was small. Lost. Desolate, and it touched CJ's heart.

Lamely he said, "Things'll work themselves out. You'll see." He hoped his words weren't just empty promises.

*****

By the time Lois and CJ had finished talking to Mrs Sissman, who'd spend a very long time telling them nothing that was useful, the sun had already set and the sky was brushed a rich yellowy turquoise at the horizon through to a deep almost-black purple high above them. The first stars were beginning to glitter against the backdrop of night.

Lois noticed that CJ paused for a moment to look speculatively at the sky. She fleetingly wondered what he was thinking about. Was he thinking about flying? About the things that he could see and do, things nobody else could do? That line of thought reminded her of something she had been meaning to ask him ever since the staff meeting earlier that day.

She climbed into the Jeep. She pushed the key into the ignition and turned it just far enough for the lights on the dashboard to come to life. Then, while she waited for CJ to get in, make himself comfortable and fasten his seat-belt, she leaned back and sighed, wondering how best to tackle the questions she wanted to pose.

Finally, he smiled at her, signalling that he was ready to go and, for some reason, she felt her stomach flip at his expression. When had she begun to notice how beautiful his smile was? How straight and white his teeth? How perfect the angles of his cheek bones? How unruly that tuft of hair that hung down across his forehead?

She shook her head slightly, pushing the distracting thoughts aside. She turned the engine over and concentrated more than was strictly necessary on the manoeuvre that was needed to get her back onto the carriage way, and homeward bound.

"CJ?" Her voice, breaking into the silence sounded too loud to her ears. It also sounded tentative, almost tremulous. Cautious.

"Yes?" His tone almost matched the one she had selected as though he was sure he wouldn't like what she was going to ask him. However, that was no reason for her to hold back, she told herself. Another's reluctance had never stopped her asking questions before – but this felt different for some reason, perhaps because this was personal, not professional, and the rules were different here.

Still... Nothing ventured, she thought. No time like the present... "There's something I've been wanting to ask you. About last night..."

"Yes?" he said again.

"Where were you just after midnight?"

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know," she said, immediately regretting the almost harsh edge that was creeping into her voice. She wanted this to be a conversation, not an interrogation. "But in case you've forgotten, maybe I can remind you: a young child, a dog and a car crash? That do anything for you?"

"Oh. Those. Um. Yes." He sounded uncomfortable, almost as thought he'd been caught out in a lie.

Feigning a nonchalance she most certainly didn't feel, Lois said, "I thought it was you. But why didn't you mention anything earlier? Or even at breakfast?"

"I guess..." he said, "with everything that was going on, it simply didn't cross my mind to."

"So it wasn't that you didn't trust me?"

"No! Of course not! You know I trust you!" His exclamation sounded genuine to her and she found herself releasing a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Lois, I've already told you more than enough for you to destroy me ten times over, if that was what you wanted to do! Whatever have I done to make you think I don't trust you?"

Put like that, Lois realised he had a point. Uncomfortably, she said, "Nothing, I guess. I'm sorry. There's no reason why you should have said anything..." But she'd felt excluded that he hadn't. It was irrational on her part. She found herself wondering what it meant.

"Maybe not, but I'd like to talk about it now, if you don't mind. I could do with talking to someone."

A warm glow seemed to infuse her. He wanted to talk to her? Why did that make her feel so good? She didn't let her pleasure touch her words, though. Instead she said, "Sure. Talk. After all, you listened to my troubles earlier. It seems only fair that I should listen to you now."

"Thanks, Lois." It took him a couple of seconds to find the words he needed to continue. "When I was in the other world," he eventually said, "I decided that I would keep my powers a secret." He then told her about his resolve not to create a Superman for this world and the reasons for it. She found herself nodding thoughtfully as he talked, thinking about how his actions were at odds with the decision he had taken.

"So, what was last night about, then?" she asked, when he paused.

"That's just it," he said. "Logic is one thing. Emotion is something else. I couldn't ignore those people. I still don't want people to know that it's me doing these things, but I can't not do something. I just wish I knew whether I did the right thing."

"What do you think?" she asked as she stopped for a red light.

"That's just it. I don't know," he said softly.

"Okay," said Lois. "Then tell me, what do you feel?"

"That's easy," CJ replied. "I had to save them. I had no choice."

"Then that's your answer." Her lips quirked into a wry smile. "If you ask me, logic is overrated, anyway. Go with what your intuition tells you to do."

She glanced sideways at him and noted the expression on his face. It was obvious that he was giving careful thought to her words. She turned her attention back to the road, pulled away as the lights changed, and kept quiet, giving him some time to mull over what she'd said.

Soon, however, her thoughts left his dilemmas behind, preferring to settle on those that were facing her. After about ten blocks she broke the silence and blurted out. "I'm just as much to blame for what happened to her brother as Judith is, so why does she blame herself?"

"Why does anyone ever blame themselves?" Lois didn't need to turn to know that he had shifted fractionally in his seat so that he could get a better look at her profile. Oddly, his scrutiny did not disturb her; in fact, she found it perversely reassuring. "Neither of you is to blame. There's only one person responsible for this whole mess, and that's whoever is trying to get Allen acquitted."

"You sound very certain about that. I wish I was so sure."

"Lois, do you trust me?" he asked, referring back to her earlier question.

"Sure," she said uncertainly, wondering where he was going with this. "I mean, I had my doubts. You know that. But not now."

"Then trust me on this. I'm right, you know. And if you could look past the guilt you're feeling just now, you'd be able to see that, too."

"Guilt? How do you know I'm feeling guilty?"

"Besides the fact that you told me so earlier this evening, you mean?"

She took her eyes off the road for just long enough to check that he wasn't laughing at her. However, he looked sincere enough, so she said, "Yes."

"Because," he said ruefully, "I'm an expert on guilt in all its weird and wonderful forms." She supposed he would be, given the fact that he was a lawyer. However, she had the impression he meant something more than that. His next words went a long way towards confirming her suspicions. "Guilt isn't logical. That's why it's so powerful. It's always easier to see other people's misplaced guilt than it is to see our own."

She glanced across at him again. As her eyes caught his, he looked down and away, as if embarrassed about something. "That sounds a lot like the voice of experience," she said invitingly, intending it as a question, even though it wasn't worded as one.

"Maybe," he replied, but he volunteered nothing further and she didn't feel comfortable pursuing the matter.

Lois drove for a few more minutes in silence, letting CJ's other comments sink in. She still wasn't sure that she believed his reassurances, but she found herself unaccountably grateful for them, nonetheless. Then, seemingly out of the blue, she found another question popping fully formed out of her mouth. "Do you think Luthor's behind this?"

"We've no evidence of that. And, unless we can link that license plate Mrs Sissman gave us to him, which I doubt, we're not going to get any."

"That's not an answer," said Lois. Then, unexpectedly, given her current state of mind, she found herself teasing him. "Or, rather, it's a lawyer's answer. You don't want to be accused of libel, is that it?"

"Slander," he said. She could hear a smile creeping into his voice to match the one in her own.

"What?"

"Slander. Libel is written, slander is spoken."

"I knew that," she muttered. Then, recovering her bantering note, she continued, "So your answer, were you to give one, would be slanderous, would it?"

"Maybe."

"CJ! C'mon! It's just you, me and the Jeep, here. I won't tell anyone and the Jeep can't talk, so you might as well say."

He sighed, then, seemingly changed the subject entirely. "Did you have a chance to look into Monique Kahn's background yet?"

"Monique...?" Lois sifted through her mental filing system and came up empty. "No. Why?"

"On the other world, Monique Kahn was one of Luthor's... henchmen, I suppose for want of a better word." Then after a beat, he said, "What is the politically correct term for a female henchman? Henchwoman? Henchperson?"

"Sidekick," she said firmly, and was unaccountably pleased to hear him laugh in response. She didn't know why or precisely how he was doing it, but she found her mood lightening. Her problems hadn't gone away. They hadn't even receded, but she found that the gloom they carried along with them was held at bay by CJ's support and humour. A hint of a smile still in her tone, she said, "You were saying...? Monique Kahn?"

"Oh, yes. That was the person Judith Myerson sketched. I recognised her from the drawing."

"Really? Interesting..." Lois concentrated as she navigated her way around a particularly tricky intersection then drove for a few more blocks before she ventured to ask, "Why would they offer to pay Judith for not getting selected?"

"H'm? Oh... I would guess because counsel are only allowed to dismiss a few potential jurors without cause. I guess, the defence didn't want to run out of their quota before the jury was selected."

Lois decided that it made sense.

As they turned into Clinton Street and Clark's building came into view, CJ broke the silence that was, once more, hanging between them. "Lois?" he said. She wondered what had got him sounding so worried this time.

"H'm?" she grunted as she scanned up and down the street, looking for somewhere to pull in.

"I was wondering..."

"H'm?" She braked, spun the wheel and parallel-parked expertly. She pulled on the hand-brake, put the Jeep into neutral and turned to look at him.

There was a nervousness about him that touched something inside her. "I was wondering," he said again, "whether you'd like to have dinner with me." The words cascaded out, tumbling one over the other. He ducked his head and she was sure that, if it hadn't been dark, she would have seen him blushing. "I mean, it'd not be anything fancy. Just takeout. But... it might be fun. You know, just to sit and talk... like friends do..."

She stared at him for a moment. Working together with him was one thing. Dinner was quite another, and yet... She found herself nodding, a jerky motion. Her voice caught as she replied, "Yes, I'd like that."


TBC