Part Twenty-Eight
“Yes! It’s finally done!” Lois crowed triumphantly over the final draft of the first article in the TresAx series as she reached for the ‘Send’ key to e-mail it over to Perry’s computer.
She stopped when Linda King, looking over her shoulder said, “No it’s not, look at this sentence in the last paragraph, than is mixed up with then. Still can’t get rid of that pesky habit after all these years Lane? No wonder you depend on Clark so much!”
Clark’s head shot up from a studying a file. It had been like this all morning, him acting as reporter and referee. But despite the sharp words and barbs that flew back and forth between them, these rivals had quickly forged themselves into a team. Linda was a tenacious and talented writer and could spot flaws in Lois’s copy, just as Clark did. Whereas Lois could plow through dozens of files, ingest the material and reach intuitive conclusions, frequently yielding correct results. He wondered what would have happened if Linda had not allowed her emotions and ambitions to sabotage their friendship?
“Let’s not worry about one grammatical error. Perry’s red pen will handle that.” Her finger stabbed down on the send key.
“We should think about the day after tomorrow’s follow-up article and sidebars.” He said
“Yeah, like TresAx’s apology and how many members of their Board of Directors will still be around at the end of the week!” Lois said chuckling.
There was a knock at the door, Clark told the person to enter. Stacy stood in the doorway with a sunny grin on her face. “Lois, a call just came in from Senator Braxton’s office. Guess what?”
Lois was tired, yet she found Stacy’s enthusiasm uplifting and decided to play along, “No idea, tell me!”
“He wants to have a phone conference with you. Apparently someone informed him about an early morning meeting that our publisher and in-house counsel had with TresAx.”
“Ha! Now we’ve got them on the ropes!” Turning to Clark she said,
“Hey partner, maybe you ought to call him back. That’ll really make his day!”
Clark adjusted his glasses and said, “No that might seem like gloating.”
Exasperated, Lois threw up her hands and fired back. “That’s exactly what this is Kansas, that man and his cronies almost ruined your reputation and career!”
Clark put the pencil he had been holding behind his ear, placed his elbows on the table and with a thoughtful expression said, “Maybe, but thanks to your resolve and Linda’s information, I’m back at work. Senator Braxton is scared and he should be, but we have to leave room for our enemy to be our friend. I’ll talk with him. Whatever he has to say should make an attention-grabbing quote. He can provide us with additional information that’ll help Agent Scardino and Mayson Drake.”
His partner nodded, no matter what happened with TresAx, this scandal was going to impair the Senator’s reputation, re-election was highly unlikely to occur, she said, “Okay, let’s give him a little wiggle room … talk to his assistant and let’s see what happens.”
Stacy, who had been standing in the doorway throughout the exchange asked, “So, do I transfer the call here?”
“No Stacy, send it to my desk.” He stood up from the table and walked towards the door; suddenly he bent down and whispered into Lois’s ear. “My conversation with Senator Braxton will be awhile. Put aside your differences with Linda and talk, she’s a little down.” With that he followed Stacy into the newsroom and closed the door behind him.
Linda was silent, she had moved to the other end of the room when Stacy showed up, for all her sarcastic remarks at Lois, she looked lost; the dark half moons of exhaustion were under her eyes. She was looking at a file, but not reading it, the sense of isolation and dejection that hung over her like a depleted storm cloud was palatable.
“Ah, are you Okay?” Lois asked breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“No, no I’m not.” Linda said as she turned to Lois with tears in her eyes.
Feeling flustered and not a little embarrassed, Lois grabbed some napkins left over from lunch and gave them to her. A minute passed while Linda dried moist eyes and vainly attempted to fix make-up that was frankly beyond repair. “Thanks for the tissue.” She sniffed again, looked at Lois, and straightened her back and with a shade of her usual bravado said. “I … I always envied you.”
Lois head snapped up, “Envied me? Why? You were the one who ended up with Paul and my story.”
“Come on Lois, none of the college newspaper staff really thought I had researched and written that article. One guy said it had your ‘hell bent for leather’ style all over it. He was right. I had to work twice as hard as anyone in our class and three times as hard to keep up with the great Lois Lane. Our professors had you pegged to be a star in whatever branch of journalism you entered into.”
“Funny, none of them ever told me that.” Lois muttered quietly.
Linda sniffed indignantly and responded, “Come on, what professor ever tells his or her favorite pupil they’re special until after they are no longer in their class? Luka Brunner always had the highest hopes that you might visit him in Germany. Maybe even work with him for awhile.” She sighed, “It’s a pity he died before you could go. Anyway, being with Paul was no prize; he kept talking to me about how great you were, not just as a reporter, but as a person. He dumped me shortly after we graduated. I really loved that man, but he was miserable with me because he knew how much our being together hurt you.”
It was news to her that Paul has regrets about the way their relationship ended. Nonetheless, Lois could not work up any sympathy for Linda on this subject and so said nothing, allowing her long-time rival to continue.
“Did you know I tried to interview at the Daily Planet? But the Managing Editor at the time wouldn’t even take my resume. I learned later that he already planned to hire the ‘very talented’ intern, Lois Lane. The Star had a hiring freeze, so after sending out literally hundreds of resumes and cover letters I was hired by a newspaper in Florida and spent the first year of my journalistic career writing obituaries.”
Lois replied with a small smile, “Perry says, ’Never underestimate the importance of a well-written obituary’.”
“Yeah, well I can’t complain, working there taught me a lot about the newspaper business. Stuff our esteemed professors would NEVER have mentioned in the classroom. But it took me five years before I could land a job in Metropolis, the town that was owned by the famous Lois Lane.”
“Linda, I didn’t realize you felt that way, to be perfectly honest, I always thought it was me that was stuck in the trenches while you traveled all over the country.”
There was a heavy silence in the conference room as each woman realized they had taken dissimilar paths to reach this point in their lives. In the process both had lost something precious. One misplaced principles and abandoned her moral compass in pursuit of material gain and prestige. While the other lost the ability to trust anyone, especially men. The absence of such important character traits had crippled them both in ways they were only now discovering.
Deeply touched by Linda’s embittered confession, Lois bit her lip, once long ago she had promised to be kinder to workmates; Linda was working to expose a lot of dangerous people at the risk of her own life. The least she could do was be a little empathic. Slowly she reached out her hand and said, “Hello, my name is Lois Lane, welcome to the Daily Planet.”
Linda took her hand and gave it a generous squeeze, “Linda King, pleased to meet you.”
They smiled at each other and Lois hoped they had turned a corner in their lives. “Likewise, now let’s start outlining the second article.”
***
Sebastian Kell stepped out to the elevator and walked down the ramp into the newsroom at 11:00am. Several people stopped typing and looked at the sartorially correct man; he walked purposefully towards Perry’s office and upon reaching it, knocked respectfully on the door. Perry, his face tight with anger at the man who forced him to suspend one of his best reporters, ushered him in, closed the door, but did not lower the blinds. The Daily Planet’s Senior Editor wanted the entire bullpen to watch this exchange.
Seconds later the elevator doors opened again, this time Constance Hunter exited, following on her heels was James Olsen who was trying to hide a mischievous grin, as they made their way to Perry’s office. Again, once they were inside the blinds remained open.
Catherine stood between Lois’s desk and Clark’s. “Ladies and Gentlemen, something big is about to happen.”
Steve leaned back in his chair and grinned like a hungry bear, “We should get popcorn. This is better than a prizefight.”
“How much does anyone want to bet that Perry wins?” Diane said to no one in particular.
Elsie from Re-write sniffed, “It’s so good to have you back in the newsroom Clark. That Mr. Kell is a horrid man!”
“Get a load of that Armani suit he’s wearin’, it must have set him back a grand.” Ralph said with envy.
There was a definite undercurrent of bitterness in the newsroom against Ralph, so no one bothered to answer his comment.
The voice of compassion and reason came from an unexpected corner. “Oh, I don’t know, it takes a lot of guts to walk in here and admit that you’re wrong, especially with a man of Kell’s reputation.” Jack said in a respectful tone.
Diane, not bothering to hide her surprise said, “Jack, how could you say that?”
His calm eyes scanned the room quickly and then using his chin to point to Perry’s office said, “Can any of you see Lex Luthor or Gregory Daae in there?”
A low murmur of voices moved about the room like a living thing. None of them could imagine either businessman doing such a thing. In fact, the possibility of either man sending a subordinate to accomplish the same task was unthinkable. Jack Bartholomew was right.
After several minutes James and Constance stood up, shook hands with Kell, exited Perry’s office and departed to their proper domain upstairs, leaving Perry alone with the lawyer. As they passed through the newsroom towards the elevator, there were broad smiles plastered on their faces. The two men continued their conversation briefly and then Perry stood up and saw the younger man out.
Rather than make his way directly to the elevator and out of the building. Kell walked towards Clark and held out his hand, “Mr. Kent, please accept my sincere apology, it was nothing personal. I came here today to officially inform Mr. White and Mr. Olsen and of course your very capable legal counsel, Ms. Hunter that as of today, our firm shall no longer represent TresAx. Their Board of Director’s decided to follow Ms. Hunter’s advice. As our last official act for them, my paralegal, Ruth Brevard has delivered two thick envelopes to Todd Sylvester and Dennis Shaw which contain general non-disclosure agreement and a sizable check. They only need to sign the non-disclosure forms and then return to employment with the company on Monday.” He thought for a moment, then added, “If they so desire.”
Clark, somewhat taken aback, accepted the lawyer’s hand and shook it firmly. Catherine and Lois stood by watching the exchange with similar expressions of shock on their faces. Clark recovered quickly and said, “What about the libel suit?”
The weight of tension seemed to lift itself from Kell’s shoulders, and he said with a smirk, “I have informed Mr. Olsen that my firm has severed all ties with TresAx due to their complete lack of transparency. It is unlikely any decent law firm would take on this case. Don’t be surprised if they have an announcement soon.”
It seemed as if the entire newsroom exhaled all at once upon hearing this news.
“So, Mr. Guerin will contact us about a statement?” Clark said.
“That will be up to his Board of Directors.” He turned and was about to make his way up the ramp when he stopped and with the first genuine smile any of them had seen on his face said. “Get back to work everyone; you have a newspaper to get out – a well written one which I might start reading. Have a good day Mr. Kent.”
When he was gone, the bullpen was abuzz with excitement. Perry charged out of his office and said, “Lois! Clark! This story is fantastic! All the facts, with plenty of cold, hard evidence for back up. TresAx has gone completely silent. Great shades of Elvis! I wouldn’t be surprised if they call a press conference by tomorrow morning! Well don’t just stand there! Get started on the next article!”
“Right Chief!” Lois said beaming. This was perfect, just like old times! She turned and noticed that her partner was headed up the ramp with a determined stride.
“Clark! Where are you going? We have to start on that second article and there should be a celebratory dinner afterwards!”
“Sorry Lois! My errand won’t take me very long … promise.”
“Uh huh, I’ve heard that before!” Lois muttered under her breath.
But then she smiled to herself. Yeah, this was just like old times. She returned to the conference room, at least she and Linda could still work on the second article’s outline.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Ralph picked up the phone and dialed Bonesteel’s number.
“We have to meet,” he said in a harsh whisper.
{Very well Mr. Lombard. Where?}
“Metropolis museum at the usual time.”
***
Clark once again found himself at the Brookside Heights suburban home of Todd Sylvester. This time the former TresAx employee warmly welcomed him inside and introduced him to his wife Tara and their two children; Josiah and Daniele.
Tara, recognizing that her husband had urgent business to discuss with the reporter said, “Babe, why don’t you and Mr. Kent go into the dining room so you can talk without the children listening in? I can make some coffee?”
While they waited for the coffee, Todd and Clark discussed their amazing change of fortune, now that it was proven that TresAx was in the wrong.
“I suspect the libel suit against the Daily Planet is going to be dropped, but we are still printing the entire tax evasion story about TresAx. Mr. Olsen wants other corporations who take a pot shot at us to realize we always have irrefutable proof backing up our investigative stories.”
“Good. At least they’ll think twice before firing any other people who are looking out for the integrity of the company. Whoever provided that additional evidence really knew where the bodies were buried.”
At that moment, Tara came in with a tray holding two steaming cups of coffee. She set it down and then departed.
“There’s no doubt in my mind that several of the executives will either be terminated or forced to resign. They are going to want … need people with integrity… “ Clark stopped talking to let his words sink into Todd’s mind.” When the silence stretched on, he added, “of course the choice is up to you.”
Todd said very quietly, “The check they sent over was for three million dollars. Guerin and that bunch of lowlifes must be awfully scared of one unemployed CPA.”
Clark said nothing and took a slow sip of his coffee.
“Tara and I were stunned when Ms. Brevard showed up here this morning. But no, I won’t take the job or any position with that company. The Board of Directors of TresAx ruined my life, my reputation and frightened my family, all because Dennis Shaw and I wanted to do the right thing. Returning to that pack of cutthroats would be stupid; the environment is toxic for me. But I will sign this non-disclosure agreement and take the check. It’ll cover my legal fees and still leave more than enough cash for us to live on until I can find another position.” Todd said as he thoughtfully stirred his coffee, which at this point had grown lukewarm.
The two sat in silence for a moment. “May I make a suggestion?” Clark asked carefully, he did not want to offend this proud man.
“Sure.”
“S.T.A.R. Labs in Alexandria, Va. is looking for an experienced CPA. They may be a nationwide research firm, with more geniuses working for them than any other think tank, but they still need to keep track of the dollars. Having a man with your integrity working for them would be in their best interests. The Daily Planet does a great deal of business with them. Perhaps I can set you up with an interview?”
The black man nodded his head and said, “Yeah, my wife’s family is in Alexandria. They’ve been trying to get us to move down there for years. It won’t be Metropolis or New York, but yes, I would like to go on that interview.”
Clark stood; ready to take his leave and shook Todd’s outstretched hand. “Good. Let me make a few phone calls to get the process started. I’m certain everything is going to work out just fine for you and your family. S.T.A.R. Labs has been rated one of the ten best companies in the country. They can always use a good employee, especially one who has more than proven his integrity. Oh, don’t ever think that contacting me was wrong.”
On the newsstands that afternoon the evening edition read:
TresAx Tax Fraud Real!
Daily Planet reporter exonerated!
Story by Clark J. Kent and Lois Lane
Special Contributor – Linda King
Evidence has come to light regarding accusations against this newspaper and one its Star reporters, Clark Kent. Apparently TresAx has been shielded from paying taxes through the aid of the two IRS agents. These agents, who are suspended and currently under investigation, admit to their crimes as well as who was behind their bribery payments. It is obvious that the Daily Planet was correct in its report of a month ago about the unethical practices of this firm. Story continues on page A2.
***
“Oui Mon petit, I shall meet you at Mimi’s for supper around seven o’clock.” Gregory Daae concluded his conversation with Lana and began working on a report. Married life with his lovely young bride was still fresh and exciting. She had overcome her jealously about Arianna, although for a time living with her had been … intéressant.
His pleasant thoughts were interrupted by loud voices outside and then the abrupt opening of his office door. A very angry Jasper Templar stormed in and roared, “Gregory! Have you seen the Daily Planet’s front page? What the Hell is going on!”
Mrs. Nordell, his new assistant, said in an exasperated tone, “Sir, I … I tried to get him to wait, but he refuses to listen to reason!”
He turned to her and in a surprisingly kind voice said, “It is all right. S'il vous plait do not concern yourself as a matter of fact, take the remainder of the day off. Mr. Templar and I have matters of import to discuss.”
Looking from one man to the other and not knowing what to think, she nodded somewhat shakily and said, “Very well, good afternoon sir.”
As soon as the door closed behind her, Daae turned his blue eyes to Templar. The fixed coldness which for the most part had been absent since his marriage had returned like an icy blast of wind in midwinter. His tone of voice was devoid of emotion. “Imbecile, of course, I read it. Duncan, my driver brought it upstairs this evening.”
“What are we going to do? Those agents haven’t revealed my name, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“Perhaps you should have considered that when personally making arrangements with them and Guerin. It would have been much better to have sent a subordinate like Bonesteel. But it appears the taste of power to manipulate others was too great a drug to dismiss. It shall be your undoing.”
“My undoing! Didn’t you tell me on your wedding day to render Kent harmless? That’s what I did and made the Daily Planet look foolish in the bargain. Eventually his partner had to be affected by the situation; anything she wrote would have been suspect.”
“Mademoiselle Lane is another part of our conversation. But first, let us approach the situation with TresAx. I am afraid the American authorities will need a, what is the word? Ah yes … a scapegoat.”
Meanwhile, just outside Daae’s office suite door Bonesteel was entering as Mrs. Nordell was leaving.
“Good afternoon. I was wondering if Mr. Templar is in with Mr. Daae? I have some rather important matters to discuss with him.”
She shook her head sadly, “Yes he is. They are having a ‘discussion’. If a shouting match can be called that. How Stephanie put up with working for that man while Mr. Daae was gone is beyond me. I’ve been given permission to leave for the day, so if you want to wait here for them, be my guest.” With those words she exited the suite.
Rather than waiting in the corridor, Bonesteel, usually the most circumspect of individuals, let himself into the outer office where Mrs. Nordell usually sat. He didn’t hear anything coming from the inner office and so decided to pass the time looking around. The disorganized desk and bulletin board was a far cry from Stephanie’s tenure. He was gazing disapprovingly at the tacky array of newspaper cartoons and family pictures when unexpectedly he heard Daae speak, in a loud harsh voice. “I told you to gérer … manage the situation, now this house of cards is falling apart, the fallout must be dealt with!”
Carefully, so as not to make a sound, he placed his ear against the door and listened intently.
Bonesteel recognized Templar’s voice as he said, “Then let us sacrifice a pawn, Bonesteel is perfect. It will take only a few phone calls and two minutes to convince him.”
“Why him? Surely there is some other way to deflect attention elsewhere? He is quite useful.” Daae said blandly.
Warming to his subject, Templar continued, his voice nasty as a coiling snake. “There is no one else Gregory! Look, he has a history of pilfering from companies and doing it in a way they would never suspect until it is too late. That’s how I found him; he was stealing from the cable company we were both working for. How do you think I was able to acquire the funds to buy ZeroM in the first place?”
“Good point. Continuer.”
“All the information about TresAx is on his computer and in his private files. Besides he would never say anything about us to the Securities Trade Commission as long as we promise to pay him to keep silent.”
“Ah, but what If he doesn’t stay quiet?”
“Of course we can arrange a rather unpleasant accident to befall him - with all the evidence of his illegal actions intact of course.” Templar responded with a tiny smile.
The eyes behind the steel wire rim frames were appraising Templar’s glee over ending another person’s existence. It was revolting. He hid the emotion so well it was not betrayed in his body language or voice. He merely said “Of course ... ‘we’ could do something else.”
Templar looked up and said, “What else can we do? This is the perfect set-up!”
“Hmmm, yes this is true. It is a perfect set-up for you to be the scapegoat, not Tristan Bonesteel.”
Templar stared at his employer dumbfounded. “Me? Have you lost your mind?”
“Not at all. I have kept a close watch upon you from the day Arianna introduced us. Jasper, I have met many a villain in my time and none are as shrewd as you, but sadly that shrewdness causes you to be débraillé … sloppy. It came to my attention early on that Mr. Bonesteel has been the agile mind behind all stock manipulations and research into acquiring LexCorp. You were the one handling stingy purchases from little old ladies and strong arming small time investors; sloppy, illicit behavior that would have brought us to the attention of the STC.”
Templar, still getting over his surprise said, “How …?”
Daae waved his hand airily “It’s not important. But I will say this much, never underestimate the strength of a damn fine administrative team. Oh, and a driver who keeps his ear to the ground and follows you. Duncan informed me of meetings to see Preston Carpenter and all about RoyalPoint. I suggest you go back to your office and pretend nothing has happened. Until the STC officials, FBI and the police come of course. Mr. Bonesteel will be taking your place.”
“You can’t do this! Blame will fall on you!” Templar exploded.
“That is doubtful, all of this happened while I was in Zurich. The dates of those reports you were so determined I read reflect that fact. You have made yourself a number of enemies within this company with your boorish behavior. There will be no shortage of persons who would be only too happy to have you sent away. If need be I will personally request Mrs. Aronnax to testify against you. A woman with her pristine reputation will be very compelling on the witness stand. All the computers you have used contain the information the authorities will require in order to implicate only yourself. I thought that was an elegant toucher. The file folders were placed there by a first-rate computer expert; one who is now living a very luxurious life in a country that does not have an extradition treaty with the United States.”
“Daae, don’t think you can get away with this! I’ll expose yours and Arianna’s plans to takeover LexCorp. I’ll even throw in the fact that you two have been playing around! Won’t your precious Lana like that?”
As if not hearing a single word, Daae continued. “What has become of the criminaliste, Fisher who tampered with Miss Lane’s brakes? My underworld contacts inform me you had a person by the unlikely name of ‘Icepick’ take care of him? Monsieur Icepick was very cooperative and is willing to do time should the need arise. One has to admire a man who wants to take care of his mother should he be incarcerated.”
Templar looked on in horror. How could he have so wholly underestimated this man?
“As I said before, return to your office. Do not attempt to leave Metropolis. You will be stopped and the ‘arrangement’ planned for Mr. Bonesteel will happen to you.”
On the other side of the door, Bonesteel nearly tripped over himself attempting to run out of the office without making a sound. His thin legs moved quickly, he had to get to his computer and destroy all those electronic files. Thankfully he kept hard copies at his bank in a safe deposit box. It was time to run to the Daily Planet and the Federal government for protection. He intended to bring Ralph Lombard along as an additional prize.
A shaken Templar got up and walked towards the door with Daae following not far behind.
“Oh, and Jasper,” The cold lash of Daae’s voice caused him to turn around.
“Yes, what is it?”
With those words, Daae slammed his right fist into Templar’s stomach, knocking him to the ground gasping for breath. Daae walked away from him and went back to his desk and sat down. Completely unconcerned that Templar would dare to strike back and convinced of his inability to do anything.
“Go back to your office Jasper; it is a normal working day. Make certain your appearance is one of dignité … dignity. After all, you are an executive of DMG. If you ever threaten me by using my wife again, it shall give me great pleasure to kill you myself.”
They stared at each other for the space of three heartbeats taking each other’s measure. Then Templar, using the door handle as a support, slowly, painfully pulled himself off the floor, opened the door and holding his sore midsection stumbled into the outer office.
***
“Thank you for giving me this phone number, it will come in handy. Mr. Lombard wants to meet me. Daae knows all about Templar’s ‘other’ business activities, so now is the perfect time to set a trap for him. It will make my case, especially with all the information provided to Miss Lane, more attractive to the Daily Planet and Federal Witness Protection.”
Stephanie’s heart caught in her throat, but finally she was able to ask, “Are you ready?”
“No definitely not, nonetheless it’s time I stopped sneaking around and letting others carry my responsibilities. If Mr. Lombard is not caught he can do unbelievable harm.”
“All right. What do you want me to do Tristan?”
He sighed, regretting that this would probably be the last time they would ever speak. Still he did not want her to remember him as a frightened man incapable of standing up for himself. He was pleased to know Gregory Daae thought enough of his abilities to want to keep him on, but alas, that was a two edged-sword. Perhaps the day would come when he too would be thrown to the wolves. “Nothing. Enjoy retirement. Thank you for everything. Good-bye Stephanie.” With those gently spoken words he hung up.
He looked around Daae’s conference room; it had been swept for bugs only an hour before. He had to make this next call very quickly. There was no doubt in his mind that an angry Jasper Templar would be looking for him.
He dialed the number, waited for the connection and when a gruff voice came over the line he swallowed and said, “Hello Inspector William Henderson? My name is Tristan Bonesteel …”
***
Arianna Carlin-Luthor sat on the comfortable gray couch in her private room within the penthouse. She looked out over the city without seeing its afternoon skyline. On the floor beside her were the crumbled remnants of the Daily Planet. The front page trumpeting its headline and a picture of Jasper Templar being led away in steel handcuffs by the police. If he did not keep his mouth shut all her dreams of destroying a man who no longer loved her would be turned to ashes.
What was Gregory doing to protect himself and his young wife? The possibility that he might eventually expose her part of the illegal LexCorp takeover and head off for Europe was uppermost in her mind. He was refusing to accept phone calls to his private line and her presence in the DMG building would cause more than a few comments.
The bile of acidic fear rose up from a tightened gut and ran like a tiny lizard over her tongue.
***
Two days later an exasperated Ralph nearly jumped off the elevator as it doors opened to discharge him into the bullpen and then, just as unceremoniously snapped closed loudly behind him. “I swear that elevator is out to get me.” He mumbled under his breath.
“Morning, Lombard. What seems to be the problem?” asked Pete from Sports, who was stirring his morning coffee with a straw.
“Nothin’. That stupid elevator, every time I get on it, it shakes like drunken belly dancer! I need to start taking the steps.”
Pete gave him an odd look and said, “From the looks of you, it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Haha! Very funny old man. Someday soon, I’m gonna kiss that elevator and this stupid job good-bye!”
Pete, unmoved by Ralph’s rude comment said, “Well now I wouldn’t recommend you kissin’ the elevator car, there are literally decades of fingerprints and germs on the walls.” He lowered his voice looked around and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “How do you plan on paying off those gambling debts without a job? The ponies haven’t been good to you.”
Ralph’s face flushed beet red; he gave Pete a dirty look and sneered,
“Mind your own business! How … how’d you find out anyway?”
“I’ve reported sports in this town for thirty-seven years before Steve got here. Word gets around.” He sipped his coffee loudly, smiled and then ambled away.
Ralph swore under his breath and then walked down the ramp and over to his desk, thoroughly unaware that several pair of eyes were keenly observing him. Among those watching was the network administrator, Ken. He was at a desk near Ralph’s and appeared to be working on the computer on the desk. He booted up his computer and prepared himself for the start of the workday.
But something completely out of the ordinary happened. His monitor lit up, but superimposed on the Daily Planet screensaver logo an instant messaging screen popped into being and as he watched text began to fill in the message window.
]Bonesteel: Ten minutes late Mr. Lombard, usually you are so prompt.
Ralph: I’ve been busy! That disk with the TresAx information from Kent’s computer was a gold mine and all I got for my work was peanuts!
Bonesteel: Yes well. As you are no doubt aware in light of certain revelations, TresAx is a hole run dry. We have no further need for information on that front. Perhaps you have something better?
Ralph: I do. If Templar wants the disk from that broad Lane’s computer it’s gonna cost him plenty. I’m sticking my neck out here. The night I stole that thing you never got back to me. So how much?
Bonesteel: Do you have the disk on you?
Ralph: Yeah.
Bonesteel: There is a Bank Check in the amount of twenty-five thousand dollars. I should think that would be sufficient to cover a good portion of your gambling debt?
Ralph: It’s a start….
The glowing words ended. Ralph felt tiny beads of sweat pop up on his forehead and neck and begin a sticky, slide down his hairy back. This was word for word his conversation with Tristan Bonesteel last night at the Metropolis Museum. The bank check was in his pocket, signed and ready to be deposited in the bank.
In a panic, Ralph started looking around to try to determine who the author of this was. His eyes came to rest on Ken who was smiling in satisfaction at a job well done.
A sound of footsteps reached his ears and he looked up to see an unlikely trio in the bullpen: Assistant District Attorney Mayson Drake, her boyfriend, Federal agent Daniel Scardino and Inspector William Henderson, all wearing very dismal expressions of their faces.
A sickly grin plastered itself on the hapless man’s lips, “What …what’s going on Inspector? Got a meetin’ with the Chief?”
Mayson Drake said, “That’s only part of the transcript we have from your conversation with Jasper Templar’s right hand man. You broke into Mr. Kent’s computer and stole his story which was sold to Mr. Templar who we have no doubt informed Mr. Guerin and the board members of TresAx. Since all the stories written on the Daily Planet’s computer are intellectual property of the Daily Planet, they can sue you.” She looked over her shoulder and said, “For how much Mr. White?”
Unnoticed by Ralph, Perry who was flanked by Lois and Clark had approached his desk. Perry looked sterner than Ralph could ever remember; he spoke in a low voice, drawing out every word. “Don’t know for sure, but it would have be a significant sum. What do you think Kent? It was your story this hound dog pilfered and it was used to try to damage your reputation, which resulted in suspension.”
Clark Kent stood glaring at Ralph, at the moment he was anything but a mild-mannered reporter. “Something very significant, like over a million dollars...”
Ralph gasped, “Million dollars? Where? How?”
“Oh you are just full of questions, maybe while we’re going downtown we can provide you with a few answers?” Scardino said.
The bullpen became deadly silent as the police officer pulled out a small white card and began to read the Miranda rights. “Ralph Hatfield Lombard, You have the right to remain silent when questioned. Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law …”
As Henderson finished up, Daniel proceeded to put the cuffs on him.
As a dazed Ralph was led back up the ramp, the staffers of the Daily Planet bullpen looked on in stunned silence. Until a familiar voice bellowed, shaking them out of their stupor.
“Okay people! Arrests ain’t the usual thing to see around here, but we still have a newspaper to get out! Time to get back to work!”
Stacy walked over to Jack’s cubicle and said with a shaky voice.
“Couldn’t they have done that down in the lobby? It was so humiliating for him. I … I mean don’t get me wrong, Ralph was a creep. But this was unreal.” She shook her head.
“Stace, it had to be public. If there are any other moles in the newsroom, this will make them think twice.”
“Ok - ay. Maybe it’s time to seriously consider going back to Wyoming when the semester is over.”
Jack looked at his friend and bleated, “What?”
Before she could answer, Lois and Clark came over and she said,
“Thanks for all the help you two have given us. Otherwise we would have never been able to set up the bogus disk theft.”
Clark chimed in, “Not to mention all the top-notch research. You two make a great team. Stick around; we’ll have more projects to do later.” With that the partners went back into the conference room and closed the door behind them.
“Still think you want to leave?” Jack said.
“No. Seeing Ralph get arrested was surprising. It was going to happened, but hey, being from a small town in the Midwest, I don’t get to see something like that every day! What other job could be as unpredictable and exciting as this one?”
The evening edition of the Daily Planet read the following:
Additional Evidence Against TresAx!
DMG Executive implicated in scandal
Lois Lane and Clark J. Kent
It has come to the attention of these reporters that not only have Senator Ian Braxton and Armand Guerin been involved in wrong doing, but a highly placed executive, Jasper Templar, in the European Media Giant, DMG will be brought in for questioning. Story continues on A2.
Last edited by Morgana; 12/10/16 05:36 AM.
