Chapter 1
“This is a waste of time.”
Clark Kent looked at his partner, doing his best to hide his exasperation. She hadn’t failed to make her displeasure at this cross-country trip known at any step of the way.
“Lois.”
“I just don’t see how some detective in Los Angeles can help us find out who The Boss is in Metropolis, Clark.”
“I don’t know either, Lois. But maybe if we question her, we can find out,” he snapped before taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Perry pulled a lot of strings to get us in here.” He leant one hand on the glass door, pushing it open. “Besides, has Bobby ever given us a bad tip before?”
The tip had come late at night, two days earlier. Bobby Bigmouth had called Clark out of the blue, telling him that a criminal Clark had been investigating had been found dead in Los Angeles. He’d passed it along to Lois, reminding her that Carl ‘The Artist’ Stephens had been linked to at least a dozen murders and had long been suspected of being an enforcer for The Boss, the shadowy figure responsible for controlling Metropolis’s underworld.
Breaking the secret of The Boss’s identity and bringing him to justice was high on both their lists of priorities; Lois’s because a story like that would surely bring a flood of awards- Merriwethers, Kerths, and maybe even her much-coveted Pulitzer; Clark’s motivation was different. He’d long suspected that The Boss was Lex Luthor, and bringing him down had become a personal vendetta.
Together they’d pitched the story to Perry, and before they knew it they’d been on a plane to Los Angeles, armed with Perry’s reassurances that he could get them access to the detective in charge of the Stephens case.
Lois grumbled quietly, for her, as Clark ushered her through the doorway and into the bullpen of the downtown LAPD precinct with light pressure from his hand on the small of her back.
She looked around for Detective Decker’s desk as Clark heard their names and zeroed in on the conversation in the corner office.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Chloe,” he heard a heavyset man say to an attractive blonde woman, “But their editor is a personal friend of Chief Monroe, and word from the top is that you have to cooperate with them.”
“With all due respect, Lieutenant-” she started, only to be cut off mid-thought.
“With all due respect,
Detective, orders are orders. Now, unless I’m mistaken, you have some reporters waiting out there at your desk,” the Lieutenant snapped out as he gestured briskly toward the desk that Lois had found and perched on the corner of, clearly dismissing the detective as he turned his attention back to the papers on his own desk.
Clark blinked, surprised at the almost open rudeness. He couldn’t imagine Perry treating one of his reporters that way, and he couldn’t imagine Henderson’s boss behaving that way either.
I thought things were supposed to be more laid back in LA, he thought,
but maybe not for the police. His natural inclination was to try to be generous about what he’d heard, but something about the lieutenant set him on edge. He didn’t often dislike people on sight, but apparently there were exceptions to every rule.
***
Detective Chloe Decker exited Lieutenant Pierce’s office, doing her best to suppress her irritation with both the man and the assignment he’d just lumped her with. His apparent inability to behave professionally at work was making her even more regretful that she'd ever accepted his proposal, however briefly. Babysitting a pair of reporters from out of town was not high on her list of priorities- especially considering that the last time a reporter had gotten involved in one of her cases, people had wound up dead as a result. She was beginning to wonder if Pierce was trying to punish her for breaking off their engagement.
Two strangers dressed in business attire were at her desk; as she approached, the woman straightened up from her perch on one corner.
“You must be the reporters,” Chloe observed. The man took half a step forward, straightening his glasses with one hand while he held out the other for her to shake.
“Clark Kent from the Daily Planet. This is my partner, Lois Lane.”
“Chloe Decker.” She shook hands with both Lois and Clark. “I usually work with a civilian consultant, Mr Morningstar, but he’s not in right now. What’s a Metropolis paper like the Daily Planet doing in LA?”
“A civilian consultant? Isn’t that unusual?” asked Lois, ignoring Chloe’s question to satisfy her own curiosity.
“Yes, but then I am unusual.” Lucifer’s voice came from close behind her.
“Oh boy,” Chloe muttered under her breath. As she expected, Lucifer practically ignored Kent, holding out his hand to Lois.
“Lucifer. Morningstar. What brings a lovely creature such as yourself to our fair city?”
"Oh, um, hello." Lois took Lucifer's hand and smiled, looking up at him through her lashes as she brushed her hair back with her free hand.
Chloe made no attempt to hide her rolled eyes as yet another woman succumbed to Lucifer’s own brand of charm. Three years and she still didn’t get why women fell all over themselves around her partner. Personally, she’d found him irritating at first meeting- although he’d grown on her over time. But if this Ms. Lane was going to develop a crush on Lucifer, this case could work out to be even more exasperating than she’d anticipated.
Lois froze for a moment, wide-eyed as she realized what she'd done. She snatched her hand back and set it on her hip. "Lois Lane, Daily Planet," she snapped out. "This is my partner, Clark Kent."
Lucifer took a half step back and placed his hand over his heart as he smiled wickedly at her. "Ms. Lane, charmed to meet you."
Lois's brows drew together in a near-glower. "The pleasure is all yours, I'm sure." She paused for a moment. "Did you say Lucifer? Lucifer Morningstar? Lucifer as in Satan?" Lois's eyebrows headed for her hairline as she turned to face Detective Decker. "Doesn't the LAPD have any rules against consulting with crazy people?"
Clark put a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Excuse my partner, Detective, I don't think the MPD has anyone quite as... colorful... as Mr. Morningstar on their staff."
***
Clark watched, stunned.
What the heck, if Lois had dimples, she'd be dimpling at him! He shot Lois a bemused look as she composed herself, blinking a little in surprise. The only man he’d ever seen her simper at like that on first meeting was Superman.
His hackles slightly raised, he surveyed the man that had somehow managed to charm Lois with a few words and a smile, however briefly. The civilian consultant was a few inches taller than him, and lean, with jet-black hair and designer stubble. Good-looking in a roguish kind of way, he was expensively dressed in a three-piece suit that was saved from stuffiness by the absence of a tie, obviously charming, and apparently both well-educated and English judging by his accent.
Although unlike Lex, Lois appeared to have seen through this man almost immediately, Clark didn’t trust him an inch.
Aware of Clark’s scrutiny, Lucifer raised a challenging eyebrow. “And Mr… Kent, was it?”
“Yes.” Clark turned and addressed himself to the detective. “You’re working a case we’re interested in. The possible murder of a Carl Stephens.”
“Why come all the way from Metropolis for one death? I mean, it hasn’t even been confirmed as murder yet,” Lucifer questioned.
“We think it might connect to something else we’re working on. A crime lord that calls himself The Boss,” Lois snapped, making no attempt to hide her dislike of the suave civilian consultant.
Clark shot her a quelling look. “We would appreciate any information you can give us, Detective.”
“Sure,” the detective responded. “Come this way.”
They followed the detective around the corner to a vacant room, where she pushed open the glass door and gestured for them to enter.
“The lieutenant set this room aside for our use.”
As Clark nodded his thanks, he caught a brief flicker of what looked like distaste on Mr Morningstar’s face and quirked an eyebrow. Clearly, there was friction between the lieutenant and this particular partnership; he just hoped that the reluctance he’d overheard from the detective regarding their visit wouldn’t impede their investigation.
***
“Carl Stephens collapsed in a diner on Vermont Avenue near West Sixty-First Street, at eight o’clock in the morning two days ago. Witnesses said he passed out face-first into a plate of bacon and eggs.” Chloe handed the folder to Lois and Clark. “Cause of death was a subdural haematoma-”
Lois snatched at the file eagerly, then looked up. “A blood clot?”
“Yes, looks like it was caused by a blow to the head. We’re still working through Stephens’s known associates, anyone known to have a beef with him, that sort of thing, but right now we don’t even have any clear evidence that this was a homicide. The bruising, the injury to the back of his head, they could have been accidental.”
“So why do you have the case?” Lois knew why Henderson would have been involved back home, but wanted to test this particular detective’s professionalism.
“Because I don’t know how they do things in Metropolis,”
nor do I care was heavily implied in Chloe’s tone, “but here in LA we treat the sudden death of a known mob associate as a homicide until we know otherwise.”
Clark looked at the detective curiously. “Do you think it was an accident?”
”No, I think it was murder.”
“She’s usually right about these things,” Lucifer commented lazily. Chloe shot him a look, willing him to behave while they had reporters in tow.
“We have a couple of possible suspects to interrogate today. You’re welcome to sit in on the interviews- from behind the glass. Observe, not participate. You can’t name names or quote the interviews unless the department gives you permission. Is that clear?”
“I know the drill, Detective. I was doing this while you were still making teen movies,” commented Lois snarkily.
Chloe’s eyes narrowed at the dig at her professionalism and background; something which wasn’t helped by Lucifer’s amused snort and gleeful grin. These reporters had obviously done their homework; and as she’d long feared, Hot Tub High School was never going to stop haunting her.
"Your contacts in the chief's office aside, Ms Lane, if you want my cooperation with you tagging along on my case, you will do things my way. Got it?"
“We understand, Detective,” Clark broke in hastily with a quelling glance at his partner.
“Good.”
***
“This is going to be a dead end,” Lois said, staring through the one-way glass with her arms crossed as Lucifer and the detective entered the interrogation room on the other side.
“You don’t know that, Lois. Look, you saw the file. These two have the highest arrest and conviction rate in the precinct.”
“Did you read the same file I did, Clark? She’s a former B-list actress and he owns a nightclub! At least Henderson is a professional.” She fell silent as the door to interrogation opened again and a uniformed officer brought in the suspect, a heavily-built blonde man in his mid-thirties.
Lois let her mind wander as the interrogation preliminaries got underway. Just who was this Lucifer Morningstar, and how had he managed to tear down her carefully-constructed walls so thoroughly with barely a word? She didn’t normally react to any man that way- with Superman being a notable exception- and if she did find a man attractive, she was usually much better at containing it. The brief rush of intense desire had left her feeling embarrassed and angry.
On top of all of that, how did Lucifer get his status as a civilian consultant in the first place? The file Jimmy had constructed for them hadn’t been clear on the subject; Lucifer had gone from being a witness in the Delilah case to an official consultant just a few weeks later, his elevation approved by the now-chief of police with no accompanying explanation or, as far as Lois could tell, any qualifications for the role.
Her brow furrowed; if they were going to get the information they needed to bring The Boss down, they needed a thorough and well-run investigation. Right now, she wasn’t sure if this detective and her weirdo partner could deliver the goods.
Clark jogged her arm as the interrogation moved past the preliminaries, drawing her attention back to the present.
***
“What’s your relationship with Carl Stephens?”
“Who?”
“The man you were arrested for assaulting.” Lucifer lounged back in his chair, watching the suspect’s face.
“Oh, that guy? I only met him that one time.”
“So you didn’t, I don’t know, beat his head in with a blunt object?”
“What?!”
Chloe slid a photo of Stephens’s corpse across the table.
“Carl Stephens was found dead three days ago.”
“What?! No! Look, the assault thing? It was a bar fight. I’d had a really bad day, I went to the bar, this guy got in my face, and I punched him. I haven’t seen him before or since.”
Chloe caught Lucifer’s eyes; raising an eyebrow, she indicated that he should take the lead and use the trick she’d seen him use dozens of times but still didn’t understand.
Lucifer sat forward, making eye contact with the other man, his mouth stretching into a knowing, unsettling grin.
“So, Rufus. If you didn’t want our victim dead, what did you want?”
“Excuse me?”
Chloe saw the faint blurring of their suspect’s eyes and knew that Lucifer’s trick was working.
“What is it you truly desire? What’s your darkest fantasy?”
“I want-“
“Yes?”
“I want my wife to stop sleeping with her boss.”
“Oh!” Lucifer exchanged glances with the Detective, who leaned closer.
“Unless his wife’s boss happens to be Carl Stephens, I don’t think he’s our killer,” she stated with her voice lowered.
“No. Might want to warn whoever employs the wife of this poor sap, though.”
“I thought you didn’t understand jealousy.” She gave him a puzzled look.
“Yes, well, things change,” he replied with a flick of his eyes towards her.
She shook her head, getting back to the suspect in front of them. “What’s your wife’s boss’s name?”
“Marcus Roark.”
“Owner of that seafood place on 7th?” Lucifer asked.
Jones nodded. “She’s a waitress there.”
“Yes, he does have a reputation for sleeping with his staff.”
“Look, if I was going to kill anyone, it’d be Roark. This Stephens guy? I barely knew him.”
***
“What was that?!” Lois exclaimed, spinning and looking at Clark. She looked as puzzled as Clark felt.
“I have absolutely no idea,” he replied slowly.
The suspect, Rufus Jones, had looked like he didn’t know what he was saying. First Lois, and now this guy…
Was there something different about Lucifer?
Was it possible that he was like Clark- hiding his true origins behind the guise of an ordinary human being?
Disquieted, Clark watched as the next suspect was brought into interrogation.
***
“So. The three suspects we interrogated today brought us no new leads.” Chloe swiped her hair out of her face frustratedly.
“So what now? It gets declared accidental death?” Lois asked.
“No. I still think it was murder, and we keep investigating until we know what happened- “
She broke off as she saw Dan walking past the interview room.
“Excuse me.” She stepped out into the hallway. “Dan? Wrap up your case?”
“Just filed the last of the paperwork.” Dan waved the folder he was holding. “Who’s that in with you?”
“Oh, some reporters from Metropolis, looking into the Stephens case. Pierce is making me babysit.”
Dan made a face. “How’s it going?”
“Two reporters and Lucifer? Like herding cats.”
Dan laughed. “Yeah, you can have that one all to yourself. I gotta go get Trixie.”
He started to walk away; Chloe stopped him. “Make sure Trixie does her homework.”
“Chloe, it was one time.”
“Yeah, well you’re not the one that had to deal with the fallout with her teacher. She’s got a big report due this week, I just need you to make sure she works on it.”
Her ex-husband shook his head, stalking angrily off down the corridor. Her jaw tightened and she gave an annoyed snort before turning back to the interview room. First Pierce, then Dan, and now she had to go look after Lucifer and a pair of reporters.
“Great.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
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