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LAST TIME ON EMII:

"I still miss her," said Tessa. "She was my first friend in Metropolis, and she helped me when I needed help most." A tear crept down her cheek, and Tessa swept it away absentmindedly with her hand. "I wish I could have helped her."

"Maybe you still can," said CJ.

Tessa frowned, genuinely confused. "How?" she asked. "She's dead. He killed her."

"Who, Tessa?" asked Lois. "Who murdered Toni Taylor?"

NOW READ ON...


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


"Well, that was interesting," said Lois ten minutes later, as they headed back to the Daily Planet. She was in the process of executing a particularly tricky manoeuvre, and was cursing the car's manufacturers in terms that made CJ wanted to blush.

CJ waited until she'd finished wrestling with the gear level and the steering wheel, then said, "It wasn't very productive, though, was it?"

"Oh, I don't know, CJ."

"What? I mean, what did we learn from that, that we didn't already know."

Lois didn't answer for a moment, and CJ wasn't sure whether the pause was because she had to think about her reply or because she was concentrating on changing lanes. Once she'd found a gap in the traffic, and had manoeuvred into it, she said, "We learned that she knows something about Taylor's death."

"Something she wouldn't tell us. And with Bibbo acting as bodyguard, there was no way she was going to, either."

"We also learned that she trusts you."

"No, she doesn't," answered CJ. "If she trusted me, we might have got something useful out of her."

"Not you, you," said Lois. "She trusts the you that saved her life the other night."

"But that was me."

"You and I know that, but she doesn't, does she? And the only reason she agreed to talk to us at all was because we told her that we were your friends. Oh, does this sound as confusing as it feels, trying to talk about you as if you were two separate people?"

"Yes, it does." He laughed. "Okay, so she trusts me. Where does that get us?"

"Maybe nowhere, but maybe, if you talked to her..."

"You mean, dress up in black, go back to Bibbo's tonight, hang around in the dark until she gets off work, hope she doesn't recognise me and talk to her?"

"Yeah. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Besides me giving her a heart attack, you mean?"

"You won't give her a heart attack, CJ. Seriously, though, what is the worst that could happen?"

"Nothing, I guess. She mightn't talk to me, but that's about it."

"In which case, we'll be no worse off than we are now. And if she does talk to you, then we could be a whole lot better off."

"I still don't see why she would want to talk to me."

Lois rolled her eyes, something that CJ found particularly alarming as Lois was in the process of overtaking a truck at the time. Exasperated, she said, "She'll talk to you because she trusts you, CJ!" Lois reined in the worst of her irritation, then said, "Look, she talked to us simply because we know you, and she has no reason to trust us. But if you ask her questions directly, or ask her to talk to us..."

"I guess it might work," said CJ, but he wasn't convinced. Then again, it wasn't as if they had anything to lose by the endeavour. "Oh, what the heck! I'll give it a go."

Lois smiled with approval. "That's a good boy," she said, and CJ felt a rush of pleasure at her praise, even if it had been patronisingly given.

*****

CJ cast a critical eye over his reflection and decided that he didn't much like what he was seeing.

Who – what – was he supposed to be, anyway?

He wasn't Superman, but he had no clue as to what he was. His alter-ego seemed to be morphing into some bizarre blend of superhero and renegade private detective. Apart from making use of his flying skills to get him to the sites of his investigations, all his other appearances had been spontaneous, arising from the need to rescue someone or something. This time though... this time his appearance was going to be premeditated, and that, CJ felt, was putting a whole new slant on his activities. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He wondered whether Clark had ever done anything similar, as Superman. He couldn't quite imagine it, somehow. He couldn't see his gaudily-clad counterpart ever skulking in the shadows, trying to extract information from an unwilling informant.

But CJ was going to have to skulk tonight, if he was to retain his anonymity. Tessa had seen him in both his incarnations and, without a costume, he knew he was pushing his luck by seeking her out again.

If he was going to make a habit of this sort of thing, he was going to have to buy a new wardrobe of black clothing because the articles he had didn't really lend themselves towards vigilantism. What he really needed was an effective disguise, which was something he most definitely lacked at present. Then he remembered that, once his powers faded, he wouldn't be able to do this any more, anyway, so fretting over whether he looked good in this shade of black, or whether the baseball cap he'd decided to wear looked childish was a rather redundant activity.

The baseball cap was the least unacceptable way he had found to hide his features. He had experimented with putting a bandanna over his hair and eyes, but he couldn't figure out a way to get that to work. He'd need to cut holes in the material so that he could see, and the cloth couldn't accommodate his glasses, anyway. A balaclava might have been better, he thought, but as he didn't own one, that put paid to that particular idea. Besides, like the bandanna, a balaclava couldn't be worn comfortably with spectacles.

He'd tried putting a scarf across his nose, mouth and chin. That had worked slightly better, but he'd felt incredibly stupid wearing it; he wasn't Zorro or some outlaw-wannabe from an old black-and-white western.

So, in the end, he'd gone with the baseball cap, with the peak pulled down low to cast his eyes and nose in shadow. He was going to have to rely on that, luck and the lurking to keep himself hidden from view.

He just hoped Tessa Michigan wouldn't recognise his voice.

He glanced at his watch, and realised that it was time to go.

*****

CJ crouched on the rooftop of the building next to Bibbo's, pulled his glasses down, and concentrated. Through the walls of the bar, he could see the patrons, in various stages of inebriation, chattering, drinking, belching and, in a few cases, trying to listen to the entertainment.

Tessa was singing and accompanying herself on the guitar. He didn't recognise the song, which was about unrequited love. It was pretty decent, he decided, if you were into maudlin ballads, but it wasn't really pub music. For one thing, it was too soft to make headway against the rest of the noise. He wondered whether she'd ever thought about trying out for one of the shows or clubs downtown; she was certainly good enough.

CJ glanced at his watch: ten minutes to midnight. The bar would be closing soon, and then he could catch Tessa on her walk home. In the meantime, he just needed to be patient.

A gaggle of men got up and lurched out of the bar, arms lacing their shoulders together. The burst of sound, through the open door, assaulted CJ's ears and he scowled. Sometimes those powers of his were a real pain – literally.

He wondered whether Clark ever found them irritating. Probably not, thought CJ with a tinge of jealousy. After all, he'd had years to acclimatise to them. CJ had had days.

Tessa finished her song, was rewarded by a smattering of applause and a couple of wolf-whistles, and she started on another.


*****************
Tuesday 6 May, 1997
*****************

At five past twelve, CJ's patience was rewarded. Tessa exited the bar onto the street, turning left, and heading north. He'd give her a few minutes, wait until they were clear of the last of the customers, who were also heading out, and then he'd float down to the street.

"Hey! Tess! Wait up!" CJ recognised Bibbo's voice from earlier.

Tessa turned round and waited for him to catch up. "Wait while I lock up, then I'll walk you home."

"Bibbo," she said with a smile in her voice. "I appreciate it, but it's not necessary. And it takes you out of your way."

"Course it's necessary. I toldja already, after last week I'm taking no risks with you. You got that?"

Tessa ducked her head slightly, and CJ wondered whether it was his imagination or whether he could really feel a grateful blush grace her cheeks. "Got it," she murmured.

CJ cursed inwardly. Bibbo's white-knight act complicated matters. He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to follow them, and hope that he got a chance to talk to Tessa after Bibbo had left.

Tessa followed Bibbo back inside the bar, and waited while he emptied the till, put the meagre takings into a well-hidden wall safe and made his final rounds, checking that the back door and all the windows were closed and bolted. Finally, she came out of the front door again, closely followed by Bibbo.

Bibbo juggled his keys, locking the door securely. CJ noticed that he had even more locks on his bar's door than Lois had on the entrance to her apartment. Then they took off in the direction Tessa had turned earlier.

CJ levitated, following them high above the street lamps, confident that he was invisible in the darkness.

Bibbo and Tessa didn't talk much, he noticed, but theirs was the comfortable silence of friends who were at ease with each other. Just as telling was the relaxed pace that they adopted, neither in a rush to leave the other's company.

Ten minutes later they stopped in front of a five storey walk-up. Like much of the rest of the neighbourhood, it had seen better days, but it looked, at least, sound. Tessa waved Bibbo good-bye, then ran up the steps, disappearing into a pitch black corridor beyond.

CJ had to concentrate to follow her progress after that, drawing more on his auditory powers than on his strange visual abilities, which couldn't penetrate the gloom, even if they could penetrate the walls.

He heard a lock turn on the top floor and saw a light flick on. Tessa was home.

CJ wondered how to approach her now. He decided to take a closer look, then play it by ear. No pun intended, he thought wryly.

He landed lightly on the fire-escape, which started outside her kitchen window. Tessa entered the room. When she turned on the light, it flooded all but the corners of the escape with light. CJ could see that it had obviously once been a robust structure, the turn in the stairs almost large enough to double as a balcony. Now, though, it was rusty, worn and, quite possibly, dangerous. Judging from the nylon lines draped across it, Tessa used it as an area for drying clothes.

He shrank back into the shadows and leaned against the wall, listening as Tessa moved about inside, putting the kettle on to boil and, from the smell of it, making a jam and peanut butter sandwich.

He was still wondering precisely what he should do when he heard the flick of the light switch and the whole of the escape was plunged into darkness once again.

It was now or never, he decided. He turned to face the window and peered in. He rapped on the glass, just as Tessa was about to close the door behind her.

She jumped. Who could blame her? CJ thought guiltily. Nobody would expect visitors to come up to the fifth floor via the fire escape.

Tessa turned around slowly. She reached almost blindly and picked up a saucepan by its handle. "Who's there?" she asked, almost hiding the tremor in her voice. "I warn you, I'm armed."

"I mean you no harm," called CJ. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Who are you?"

"A friend," he said. "Just a friend."

Tessa started, and CJ wondered what it was about those particular words that had been so successful at grabbing her attention.

"You... You're the one from the other night. Aren't you? Kent said you were a friend."

So that was it, CJ thought. He'd unwittingly used the same words as he had done earlier to describe himself. Thank goodness Tessa hadn't jumped to the conclusion that he was Kent, instead! "Yes," he agreed. "You didn't want to talk to Kent and Lois Lane earlier. I was hoping that, maybe, I could persuade you to talk to me."

Tessa lowered the saucepan, but she didn't put it down.

"Prove to me that you're him."

"How?" asked CJ, taken aback by her suspiciousness.

"I don't know," she said. "Melt something. Fly. Do something!"

"Oh..." CJ felt foolish. "This do?" He lifted about six feet off the ground and hovered.

Tessa moved to switch the light back on for a better look, and he darted backwards. "No," he said instinctively. "Please leave the light off."

"Okay," she agreed, though somewhat reluctantly, he noted. "But you stay right where you are. I want a better look."

CJ could live with that, he decided. After all, while he was sure that she'd be able to make out his silhouette, she wouldn't be able to get a good look at his face.

Tessa approached the window and stared out. Then she slid the sash up and, to his surprise, she climbed out onto the escape. Apparently satisfied with what she was seeing, she put the saucepan down on the floor, straightened, then said, "Okay. So it really is you. You can come back down if you'd like."

CJ smiled, lowered himself back onto the escape, and carefully moved back into the darkest of the shadows.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

"Information," CJ said. "That's all."

Tessa looked at him, or, at least, she was looking in his direction.

"Can you tell me," he asked, "what happened the night Toni Taylor died?"

Tessa moved over to the railings around the top of the escape and leaned against them. They groaned, making CJ wonder about metal fatigue. Tessa, CJ noted, didn't seem particularly concerned by the sound, but then she was probably used to it. She stared out across the city, contemplating the answer she should give him. CJ forced himself to let her take her time.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked finally. "What difference will knowing make now, after all this time?"

"Justice," said CJ softly. "I want justice."

"I see," she said, equally softly, and maybe she did.

There was another lengthy pause, long enough for a cloud to pass completely across the face of the new moon. Then, committed, Tessa said, "Okay. I'll tell you."

"Thank you."

Tessa closed her eyes, as if to see the memories more clearly, and she began to speak in a detached, almost dreamy fashion. "I'd stayed behind after the club had closed," she began. "Toni said she had some business to see to first but, if I waited, she'd give me a lift home. I thought she just meant that she wanted to finish some accounts or something, count the takings, maybe. But then she said I should make myself scarce, so I knew it was more than that." Tessa lapsed into silence.

"Please... go on," he said.

"I went into the kitchens. I was hungry, so I fixed myself a sandwich and a drink. Then I realised I needed a plate, so I went into the store room, which was off to one side of the main kitchen. And I could hear voices."

"Did you recognise any of them?" CJ asked.

Tessa nodded absently. "Toni, of course. She was almost shouting. She was angry, you see. And no, before you ask, I don't know what she was angry about." She sighed softly. "The others were quieter, but they sounded like a man and a woman.

"I was curious, I guess. I mean, Toni had told me to keep away, so whatever was going on had to be something big, right? And I could hear them anyway. So I decided to stay and listen." She glanced in his direction as if seeking, if not approval exactly, then at least an understanding of the choice she'd made.

CJ nodded. Then, in case Tessa hadn't been able to make out his gesture through the shadows, he said, "I understand."

Encouraged by his lack of censure, she said, "I decided to move some of the plates and stuff out of the way, so I could press my ear as close as possible to the wall, and when I did I found a kind of knot in the wood. I'd never realised before, but the walls in that place were really thin: just one layer of wood thick. And this knot... I could see right through it."

CJ could feel his pulse race with anticipation. "So you saw...?"

"Yeah," she said. "I saw them. I knew him. I mean, he'd been hanging around a lot. I'd teased Toni about it, and she'd told me that there wasn't anything going on between them. But I could tell that she fancied him something rotten. I mean, you can tell, can't you?"

CJ ignored the question, preferring to ask one of his own. "Who was it?" He thought he could make a guess, but he needed to hear it to be certain.

Tessa hesitated, as though frightened to give voice to the name. Then she took the plunge and said, "Luthor." Then, more strongly, almost defiantly, she said, "It was Lex Luthor."

CJ let go of the breath he hadn't been aware of holding, a long, slow exhalation of released tension. "And the woman?"

"I hadn't seen her before, but I heard him call her Mrs Cock... something like that. No, wait. Mrs Cox. That was it." She nodded firmly. "Mrs Cox."

CJ had to force himself to feign calmness. "Can you describe her for me?"

Tessa shrugged. "Tall. Slim. Black. Kind of striking, with this really sultry voice." It wasn't much of a description, CJ thought, but it was good enough.

"Then what happened?" he asked.

"They argued. Toni said something about them having had a deal, and Luthor said he'd changed his mind. Toni started going on about how he couldn't do that, whatever 'that' was, and then—"

"And then?" prodded CJ.

Tessa shook her head, and CJ knew that he'd got to the climax of the story, the part that was for Tessa almost unbearable... The part he so desperately needed to hear. "Please," he said. "Tell me."

"If I tell you, can you promise me something?" said Tessa, suddenly intense.

"I'll try," he said.

"Not good enough. You've got to promise me!"

"Tell me what it is first," he said. "I can't promise you anything until I know what it is."

Tessa seemed to accept that. "I want you to promise me that he'll pay. I couldn't do anything before because I never knew who I could rely on. I mean, several of Toni's people went to work for him afterwards. I've never even told Bibbo, and I trust him, but what can he do? He's almost as unconnected as me. But you... You can do anything. I saw what you did to those creeps the other night, and you were holding back. I could tell. You're an okay guy, and you've got the power to do anything you want. So you promise me that Luthor will pay for what he did!"

"Very well," said CJ at length. "I'll promise." But he wondered whether he should be crossing his fingers behind his back as he said the words. He'd vowed he would bring Luthor down, and he tried to convince himself that was close enough to what Tessa wanted to satisfy her conditions. He knew, though, that he was twisting her meaning to satisfy his conscience, and that made him feel dirty, as though he was a liar, because she wanted something more specific than general retribution. She wanted Luthor to pay for Toni Taylor's death.

She hadn't said it out loud, but he'd also understood the hidden subtext to her plea. She wanted street justice, an eye for an eye, and he'd already determined that he could never sanction that, even where Luthor was concerned. That would make him feel even more tainted than his current half-truths did.

Tessa took his agreement at face value, and he didn't know whether he felt relieved or guilty about that.

She picked up her story where she'd left off. "Luthor said he could do whatever he liked. Then he just nodded at Mrs Cox, and she pulled out a gun. She pointed it at Toni. And that was when Toni started to panic. She was screaming. And then I... She..." Tessa swallowed and forced herself to continue. "Luthor told Mrs Cox to give him the gun. He said something like 'I want to do it'. Mrs Cox gave it to him and he... He shot her. Twice, I think. It might have been three times."

CJ didn't need to see them to know that tears were running down Tessa's face. Tessa straightened up, hugged her arms tightly around herself, and swayed slightly.

He couldn't stand to see anyone in so much pain, so he took two steps towards her and pulled her gently against his chest.

She was trembling, and he could feel her tears dampening his shirt, sticking it against his skin. She stood stiff in his embrace, and he wondered how much experience she'd had with being held, with being comforted. Given her likely background, he suspected not much.

CJ wasn't sure precisely how long they stood like that, but he thought it was probably a few minutes. Eventually she began to relax. Her crying diminished to the occasional sniffle and she allowed herself to slump against him. "Are you okay?" he asked. It was a stupid question. Of course she wasn't okay, but he couldn't think of a better way to work out what he wanted to know.

He felt her nod her head against his torso, then she pulled out of his arms. She walked past him and sat down on the top step of the escape, her back turned towards him. CJ moved back into the darkest shadows and waited for her to make the next move.

"I should have done something," Tessa said. "I should have helped her. Instead... It was like... You know those nightmares little kids get where they want to run, but they can't move? It was like I was caught in one of those.

"And when it was over, Luthor laughed. He was joking, although I don't think that Cox woman was particularly amused. Luthor was going on about how it was good to keep his hand in, and do the actual dirty work for himself once in a while. I felt like puking. And I just stood there, frozen to the spot, trying not to barf and hoping that they wouldn't hear me." She shook her head. "I was a coward."

"No," said CJ. "You did the right thing. If you had tried to help, they would have killed you too."

Tessa twisted to look in his direction, trying to penetrate the gloom that surrounded him, wanting to gauge the sincerity of his words. "I know that really," she said. "But I wish..."

"I know," he said sombrely. He thought about Elyse, and about how he'd felt after she'd died. How many times had he second-guessed his actions subsequently, wondering what he could have done to save her? He looked at Tessa, sympathy that she couldn't see in his eyes, and said thickly, "Believe me, I know."

They remained frozen in that tableau for several minutes before CJ ventured to speak again. "Tessa... Just one more thing before I go. You said that some of Toni's people went to work for Luthor after she died. Can you tell me their names?"

"Oh," said Tessa. "Jules Johnson and Monica Carnes. Last I heard, though, was that Jules had had enough of Luthor and ran out on him. Took a whole load of his money with him. The rumour was that he went to Bolivia, I think it was, and that there's a contract out on him, so he can't come back. Monica, though... The street says she's still working for him. I think she's some kind of enforcer, or something."


TBC