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Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found Here

Part 87

Part 88

Cat and Lois went their separate ways after leaving Star’s apartment. Perry still wanted his ‘celebrity human interest’ from Cat, and Lois needed to type up the lies from the EPRAD press conference into some kind of coherent story.

Jimmy came up to her when Lois returned to the office, and asked how her trip to the psychic went.

She scowled at him.

“That bad, huh?” Jimmy frowned. “We’ll find CK, Lois. Don’t worry. Did she have any news about Superman?”

Lois threw him a disbelieving look. If Lois had thought Star unhelpful regarding Clark, what made him think she’d believe anything the psychic said about Superman?

“Okay,” Jimmy said, raising his hands in surrender. “So, she didn’t say anything useful at all?”

“She said that Cat was wrong,” Lois replied. With that Mad Dog growl, Jimmy and her other co-workers decided to give Lois her space, and she was finally able to write something to send in to Perry.

‘You will find Clark through a trusted friend,’ Star had said.

Lois wished Star had been more specific on Clark’s condition. She didn’t know why she was even listening to what that crazy woman had said. Lois wondered if that was how she sounded to Clark or Superman when she spoke about her visions. She hoped not.

Her gaze trailed over to Clark’s desk once more. It looked so empty, so forlorn without his smiling face, glancing over at her whenever she looked his way. Okay, maybe not every time she looked at him, but often enough. She missed him down to her very core. A part of her hated that he had that power over her, but it wasn’t as if he knew about it and used it against her. She loved that his eyes still lit up when he knew that they would be spending time together, as if he had been granted the greatest gift in the world to be in her company, even if all they would be doing was going to some boring press conference.

Clark filled a hole in her life that she hadn’t even known was there. Oh, sure, she’d trip over that hole every once and a while, and pile more work on top of it to try to fill it, but the hole had always remained. Until Clark. Clark had taught her that there was more to her life than work, that relationships could be just as fulfilling, and just as pleasurable. With Clark missing, it was as if someone had stabbed the hole with a shovel and started emptying it, once more.

She closed her eyes.

Moreover, Clark had, technically, disappeared only the night before. She didn’t know how she would survive, but he needed her to survive and find him, so survive she must.

Lois exhaled and stood up, moving to Clark’s desk. She sat down in his chair and tried to look at the world from his point of view. Whose toes had he stepped on? Who would want to him to disappear? Was there something on his desk or computer that would give her a clue or a direction in which to investigate?

After going through the folders stacked up on his desk, none of which contained information she didn’t already know about, she opened his main desk drawer. There, sitting behind an extra box of pencils, he did seem to break quite a few of those, was a glasses case. He must have started keeping an extra pair at work after that mishap in Smallville, when he hadn’t had a spare pair on him. He had been wearing his “Charlie” pair since October.

Lois pulled the case from the drawer and opened it up. Inside, wrapped in a microfiber cloth, was a pair of Clark Kent glasses. Her lips tilted up on one side of her mouth for a moment. They really weren’t very stylish, but Clark made them look good. Clark made everything look good. She took the glasses and tried them on.

Her brow furrowed. That was strange. They didn’t seem to have much of a prescription to them. She took them off and set them to the side of his blotter, because under the microfiber cloth, she found a key wrapped in a scrap of paper.

She opened the paper to see if there was anything written on it to indicate what the key was for. The paper was sketch of her with short hair.

‘I must say between the short hair and this style, I do prefer this longer style. It’s cute. Although, I completely understand and agree with the reasoning behind why you’ll cut it short,’ Star had said.

Clark had been keeping more than secrets about his past from her. He had never told her what a truly talented sketch artist he was. Lois ran a self-conscious hand over her almost shoulder length hair. True, she had trimmed it back when Lex had shot her, and Clark had seemed to like that shorter style, but she had never realized how much. She had never had her hair as short as was shown in the picture. It didn’t look half-bad. If she ever cut her hair, she doubted it would be a short pixie style as in the picture. She liked too much, how Clark tucked her hair behind her ear.

A pang of guilt ricocheted through her chest. It wasn’t Clark who usually touched her like that, but Superman. She folded the key back into the paper, and placed it back into the case under the glasses. When Clark returned, she didn’t want him to know she had been snooping. Anyway, she knew where it was, should she find a lock with no key in Clark’s life.

Perry came out of his office and hesitantly called to her, “Lois, could you come into my office?”

“What?” she growled, more from the guilt she was feeling for confusing Superman’s caresses with Clark’s than for her boss’s interruption for her perusing her partner’s desk. “I know, I wasn’t very diplomatic or unbiased about Cosgrove and Zeitlin, but those guys are telling everyone that everything is ‘all right’ when they don’t believe it themselves.”

“Honey…” Perry tried again, a little more forcefully.

Lois stood up. “I know! I know! Causing mass panic and hysteria would be bad, but wouldn’t it be better if the multitudes had the truth instead of platitudes?” she argued. “Can’t we get the truth, for once, instead of a series of white lies to make us feel better?”

“Lois!” her boss said, finally raising his voice above hers.

“What?” she yelled back.

He crossed his arms and waited. Lois hated it when he did that; it made her feel like an errant child.

“Fine! I’ll change it,” she said, marching past him into his office.

She grabbed the top paper off his pile and turned to head out the door again, but found he had closed the door behind her.

“While I know that if you rewrote Wally’s article on the grocery and hardware stores running out of supplies, you would improve it a hundred-fold…” he said.

Lois glanced down at the story in her hand. “Stores are running out of supplies?” she echoed dumbly. She made it a half a paragraph down before handing the paper back to Perry, unable to read any further. “Has Wally checked out the black-market angle? I know a guy, who knows a guy…”

Strangely, Perry smiled with what appeared to be pride. “This isn’t why I called you in here,” he said, indicating that she should take a seat. “I need you to run an errand for me.”

“What? Wally’s writing trash, and you want me, three time Kerth Award winner, to run an errand?” she griped.

Before she could complain any further, there was a knock on the office door. Perry waved Jimmy inside. He carried an overnight bag, which he set down at Lois’s feet.

“All set, Chief, just as you asked, I went to the lockers…” Jimmy said.

“You had Jimmy pack me a bag?” Lois grumbled, standing up. “I’m not leaving town. There is too much at stake since Superman vanished, and I need to continue looking for Clark.”

Perry held up a hand to silence her, and then looked at Jimmy. “Find everything?”

“Yes, sir, I found everything… well, except… Hey, Lois, terrific! You found CK’s spare pair of glasses,” Jimmy said, taking the glasses case, which she had forgotten was in her hand, and tucking it in a side pocket of the bag.

Lois stilled. Glasses? Her eyes widened. “You found Clark?” she gasped in anticipation of Perry’s affirmative answer.

“No. Inspector Henderson did. He asked if you could bring down a change of clothes for…” Perry replied, before Lois launched herself against his chest.

Jimmy winced, mumbling, “Oh, no, Lois. Don’t hug the Chief.”

Perry gave her a slight squeeze, and she came to her senses.

“Right, Jimmy. I knew that. Sorry, Chief,” Lois said, unable to keep the smile from her face and the tears of relief and joy from her eyes. Perry waved off her apology. “Where am I meeting Clark?”

“You’re not,” Perry replied. “You’re meeting, Bill… Henderson. Clark is in the hospital.”

Lois gulped. “Is he okay?” she squeaked. She had checked the hospitals. She should’ve checked them again this morning. “Which hospital and why is he there?”

“Henderson said he had a moderate case of hypothermia and a slight concussion. He was found in Hob’s Bay this morning,” Perry explained.

Lois felt her knees turn to jelly and she had to sit back down.

“What was CK doing in Hob’s Bay at this time of year?” Jimmy asked.

“This is so off the record that it shouldn’t leave this room, but he was wearing a broken pair of handcuffs,” Perry added.

“Oh, God! The bodies,” Lois said, looking up at her boss. “Someone tried to kill him.”

Jimmy paled. “Bodies?”

“Between last summer and Christmas, MPD found somewhere around twelve bodies in Hob’s Bay,” Lois said. “They had originally thought it had something to do with the canal initiation rites that the gangs had implemented last summer, which Clark had reported on. If the gang member survived being tossed into a canal and floated out to sea, then he showed he was tough enough to be a ‘made man’.” She rolled her eyes at the stupidity of that logic.

“There was more to it than that, but Clark would know the details,” Perry said, and then cleared his throat.

Like Lois, Perry must have been trying not to think of Clark floating in the icy waters of Hob’s Bay.

“Oh, right. I remember that series. Superman put a stop to it, right?” Jimmy said.

Lois nodded. “And some of the bodies found in the Bay were gang members, but not all were. On closer examination, MPD discovered that some of the bodies, approximately five of them, were of businessmen or men without any direct or non-direct ties to gangs, and two more were John Does. None of the men had been drugged nor could any evidence of foul play be found. MPD has been assuming that the men committed suicide, but I had always felt like that was an easy out for them. A rash of suicides by drowning? Please!” She shook her head. Her hair swayed into her face, and she used one of her shaking hands to push it away. “So, does Henderson think it’s organized crime or a serial killer who targeted Clark?”

“MPD doesn’t have a suspect yet. Henderson’s hoping that Kent will be able to point him in the right direction when he’s feeling better,” Perry said.

Her equilibrium having returned, Lois jumped to her feet and headed to the door. “I’ll bring hi…”

“Lois!” Perry barked, stopping her cold. “Henderson released this information to us as a courtesy. Clark’s identity isn’t been revealed to the press. In fact, MPD is issuing a dummy story about some petty criminal having escaped from custody and having ended up accidentally falling into the harbor. Henderson has asked us to hold off on the story for Clark’s safety. He doesn’t want the killer to find out that Kent’s alive and try again.”

“And?” she demanded, itching to be off.

“And you can’t rush off, calling every hospital out there and trying to find out which one has Clark,” Perry reminded her. “Whoever went after Kent may go after you as well, or might be following you because he knows that you’re partners. Inspector Henderson wants you both in protective custody.”

“Yeah, right,” Lois scoffed. “Like I would voluntarily go into protective custody when Superman is missing, and a big chunk of rock is threatening to do my planet some major damage.”

“Well, at least go talk with Henderson,” Perry suggested.

“Damn straight! He knows where Clark is,” Lois retorted.

“Lois, he’s holding Clark as a material witness. He’s not going to let you see him,” he explained.

“What?” she growled.

Perry held up his hands. “Lower your voice.”

“He can’t do that! Clark’s my… my… my…” she stammered, her arms flailing as she attempted to come up with a better term than ‘boyfriend’.

“Partner?” Jimmy interjected.

“Yes!” Lois latched onto that word and pointed at him. “Thank you, Jimmy. Clark’s my partner and my best friend. I need to see him.” She focused her gaze their boss with an extra emphasis. “I need to see for myself that he’s okay.”

“I know, Lois. It’s not me, whom you need to convince. Perhaps between the two of you, you can come up with enough of a lead that he’ll release Clark,” her boss suggested.

“He better, otherwise I may not be liable for my actions,” she retorted.

“Lois, please don’t threaten Inspector Henderson or anyone else at the MPD. You’ll never see Clark that way,” Perry pleaded. “And I need you out of jail.”

“No guarantees,” Lois said, picking up the bag with Clark’s clothes. “Where does Henderson want me to meet him?”

“At the Twelfth Precinct,” Perry replied. “And, Lois, for Clark’s sake, don’t tell anyone!”

Lois turned on her heel and, with a flip of her hand, was out the door before he or Jimmy could say another word.

Joe stopped her on the way to the elevator and held out a pink square of paper. “Lois, message.”

Lois glanced down at it. Lex Luthor telephoned and wants to meet with you. She balled it up and stuffed it into her coat pocket after pressing the elevator call button.

It might be a cold day in hell, but it didn’t mean she would meet with Lex while Clark was in the hospital.

***

Bill had left word at the desk that he was waiting for Lois Lane. He suspected that she would arrive within an hour of his call to White, but she had made it in twenty-seven minutes. Either she was ticked off as hell at him for requesting her presence in his office, or Kent meant more to her than she had ever led on. He knew that both could easily be true, but knowing Lane, if she had merely been mad, she would have ignored his summons unilaterally. Having beaten his estimate by more than a half-hour, led him to believe that Lane had been worried about Kent.

But that could have just been the optimist in him.

After shutting the door, Lane dropped the bag on the floor and crossed her arms. “Where’s Clark?”

“A good afternoon to you too, Ms. Lane,” Bill Henderson retorted from his desk. She was both mad and concerned. Good for Kent… or maybe not.

“Perry said that Clark’s in the hospital, and I’ve already spent all night and most of today, wasted on looking for him, when clearly you’ve known where he was this whole time,” Lane said. “I need to check him out of the hospital, so that we can finish the asteroid story.”

Henderson chuckled. “That isn’t happening.”

“Oh, it’s not,” she said tersely. “Why ever not? Does MPD have a new policy of holding law-abiding citizens hostage?”

“Because the doctors aren’t ready to release him,” he replied, refusing to rise to the bait that any reporter could be ‘law-abiding’. “They want to observe him overnight due to his concussion and make sure that when they warmed his body, it didn’t interfere with the function of his organs.”

Lane took a few wobbly steps forward and dropped into a chair. “Has he… Is he… How is he doing?” Her voice had grown softer, but still kept its edge.

Clark’s condition must have been more serious than she had suspected. He wondered how much White had told her. Evidently, not all that Henderson had told him. Good.

“Better. He said that…”

“You’ve talked to him? You’ve seen him? How does he look?” she rambled off, interrupting him.

Henderson leaned back in his chair and folded his hands, tapping his index fingers to his mouth. “Yes, I’ve seen and talked to him. He looks…” He cleared his throat. “Different.”

“How so?” she pressed.

He stared at her, wondering if she had seen the resemblance that he had noticed. He shook his head. If she had, he doubted she would ever admit to it. “Kent’s lost his glasses, he’s in a hospital gown, and lying in bed with blankets up to his chin and a cap on his head,” he finally said with a shrug. “Just different.”

“I want to see him,” Lane insisted.

“No. He’s a material witness. Anyway, he’s not ready to see visitors,” Henderson said. He knew if he let her have access to Kent, she would throw a fit until he either was released into her custody, or until the whole media corps, and thus all of Metropolis, was aware that Kent was still alive, which Henderson was quite sure wasn’t in the best interest for Kent. Someone was after Kent, and the man had no recollection of who it was, let alone who he himself was. Until Kent remembered, it was best if he stayed under MPD guard.

Bill didn’t know what to do with what he had noticed about Kent’s appearance being similar to Superman’s. The idea that Kent might actually be Superman in disguise scared the hell out of him, particularly since he was vulnerable enough to not only be seriously injured but also treated with an IV. Bill refused to let himself consider that possibility for more than a minute at a time. If Superman had someone trying to kill his alter ego, had no memories, was vulnerable and therefore, had no powers, and there was an asteroid, with which they required his assistance, bearing down on the planet in just a few days time… no, Henderson didn’t want to dwell on the probability that his hunch could be right. He pushed that thought back into the folder in his mind marked ‘coincidences’, even though he knew deep down coincidences rarely existed in his line of work.

“I’ve brought the clothes that you requested for him,” Lane said, pointing down at the bag. “You wouldn’t have asked for them unless you expected him to get up from his bed and leave the hospital. What’s wrong with the clothes he was found in?”

“Evidence.”

She nodded. “Regardless of your case, I need to talk to him.”

“About?” Henderson inquired.

“Our story,” she said vaguely. “Clark said that you thought that it was the Voyeur who robbed his place last week. Have you found any evidence to support that theory?”

Henderson refused to answer her question, since she hadn’t answered his.

“I’m going to guess ‘not’; otherwise your scanning team would have visited my apartment as well. Do you think the Voyeur would have gone after Clark’s safety deposit box as well, or tried several times to kill him? I thought the Voyeur was just after the kink factor.”

Henderson leaned forward, ignoring her theory. “Several times?”

Lane rolled her eyes. “Didn’t Detective Wolfe tell you anything?” At his blank expression, she continued, “Apparently, not.”

“Do you think that this case is the only concern for the MPD at the moment, Ms. Lane?” he asked. He had talked to Wolfe, after receiving White’s early morning phone call. Bill hated to throw Wolfe under the Mad Dog Bus, but the detective had screwed up royally when it came to disregarding Lane’s instincts. “Why don’t you tell me what you told him?”

A low growl radiated from Lane’s throat as if she was tired of telling this story, but that was the only complaint she issued before plunging into it. “During the eclipse, a car hit the car next to Clark, which sent him flying into some bushes. Joe, from work, witnessed it, and said the man was gunning for him.” She then went into how she had found Kent’s apartment left open with both his heavy winter coat and scarf discarded on the steps up to his front door. “There’s a message on Clark’s answering machine from the National Bank of New Troy, about Clark’s safety deposit box having been one of the ones robbed in the day before yesterday’s hold-up,” she said, finishing up.

“I thought you said ‘several’ times,” he said.

“Well, someone bombed our suite at the Lexor Hotel a couple of weeks ago. Clark was just outside the door when it happened,” she explained. “We had assumed it was Thaddeus Rourke, since he had cleared out of his offices, but after this…”

Bill held up a finger. “Just out of curiosity, Ms. Lane, how many weeks go by without someone trying to kill you or your partner?”

Lane scowled at him. “We’re good at our job, and that means we tread on some pretty sensitive toes,” she replied without actually answering his question.

He read between the lines and decided that she meant ‘very few’. With those talons, he wasn’t all that surprised.

“You saw Kent’s apartment, Ms. Lane. It wasn’t robbed; someone was looking for something. Do you know what?” Henderson asked. “Could it have something to do with one of your current stories?”

“I doubt it. We’ve finished most of the follow-ups on Rourke and Apocalypse Consulting. There hasn’t been any new news on Miranda’s love potion in weeks, and the investigation into her death seems to have hit a wall, unless you know of something we don’t?” She paused for a moment, giving him a chance to answer. When he didn’t, she went on, “Before Nightfall, Clark and I were between investigations, so I don’t know to which story it could be related. As far as I know, he isn’t looking into anything on his own.”

Henderson shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew of one person Kent was investigating that he hadn’t yet told his partner about, Lex Luthor. If the MPD could tie Kent’s attempted murder to Luthor, it would break wide open the case against the man.

“Whatever it was the robbers were looking for, they didn’t find it. Clark told me that he never keeps anything of value in his apartment, because he’s been robbed before,” Lane said.

Interesting tidbit, and yet his fingerprints weren’t on file, and neither were Superman’s for that matter. The hero had accidentally broken the blotter when the officer had tried to fingerprint him after his arrest during the November’s heat wave. They had only ended up with smudges. Now, Henderson wondered if it had been accidentally on purpose, so that Superman’s and Kent’s prints could never be compared as a way of identifying him.

No record of Kent popped up on the search Bill had run after returning to the office this morning. If Kent had been robbed in the past, why wasn’t there a record of it in the system? The earliest Clark Kent showed up on the radar was several weeks prior to Superman’s rescue of the Prometheus colonists, when he opened an account with the National Bank of New Troy. “And after the robbery, someone went after his safety deposit box. What did he keep in there?” he asked.

Lois stared at him as if the thought never occurred to her. “I… I… don’t know. I didn’t even know he had one until last night. Why don’t you ask him?” Lois lobbed his question back at him as if she had hit it with a baseball bat.

“Who says I haven’t?” Henderson replied, knowing full well Kent couldn’t answer the question in his current capacity.

Even though Bill had told White not to, he thought the editor would have disregarded his suggestion and done it anyway. Now, Henderson wondered if White left him with the unpleasant task of informing Lane of her partner’s mental condition. From the way she was acting, he doubted Lane would let drop the matter of Kent’s location, if she knew he had no memories.

Did she know about the similarities that he had noticed between Kent and Superman? If so, maybe he was reading her worry about Kent’s condition wrong. If Lane knew that Kent was Superman, and that the world needed Superman to save it from the asteroid, maybe that was why she wanted to contact her partner, to let him know that they still needed his help. No, she would just assume he would be trying to leave.

Lane pursed her lips in obvious annoyance. He could tell that she hated that he was answering her question with one of his own. “Where was Clark found?” she asked.

“In Hob’s Bay,” he replied. “Since we don’t know where he was put into the water, we’re keeping where he came out quiet, in case it was same location. We wouldn’t want to tip off his killer.”

“Isn’t this whole conversation off the record?” Lane said. “Since his attempted murder is too?”

Trapped by her logic, Bill gave her the address.

She thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Christmas! Another floater was found in that exact location, wasn’t it? Sounds like Metropolis has a serial killer, Inspector.”

“It could be a coincidence,” he replied.

“Enough playing around, Henderson,” Lane said, her gaze narrowing. “My partner has been AWOL for over twenty-four hours now. In fact, the only time anyone heard from him since yesterday morning, was when he called my apartment last night telling me he had a Page One story, something big. He said he was on the way over to tell me all about it, and then he disappeared. Even if he’s not well enough to leave the hospital, I need to get that story from him to give to Perry. I promise I won’t tell anyone else his location. Despite whatever you think about me, I do care about my partner’s safety and well-being.”

This tender, caring partner routine almost had him convinced.

“No. I’m sorry, Ms. Lane, I can’t take this chance. He’s the only witness I have on his attempted murder. I need to protect him,” Henderson replied. “As I told White, whoever was after Kent could also be after you. I think you should seriously consider coming into protective custody.”

Lane considered this, before asking, “Will you let me see Clark?”

“No. We have several safe houses, we could put you up in…” he began.

“No! Absolutely not!” Lois said, jumping to her feet. “In case you’ve forgotten, Henderson, we’ve got an asteroid about to land on our heads in approximately forty-five hours, and a missing super hero I need to find. If you want to put the world’s chances in the hands of those idiots at EPRAD and their nuclear option, go right ahead, but I certainly don’t.”

Henderson swallowed. “You really haven’t heard from Superman since he left yesterday?” Yesterday morning, the same time Kent disappeared. Then Kent returned yesterday evening, called her, and told her he had a ‘big’ story. He tried to push this thought back into the coincidence folder, but it popped right back out again. “Do you think he knows where Superman is?”

“Well, the thought has crossed my mind. Yes,” she retorted wryly. “I’m also sure that come hell or freezing water, nothing could keep Clark from reassuring everyone that Superman has returned safely from his mission, if that were true. Therefore, you must be keeping him sequestered; otherwise, he would have called me.”

“Doctor’s orders. Televisions and radios exasperate a concussion and impair the healing process; plus, Kent’s eyes have been bothering him. If he had called you, the person or people trying to kill him, might have gotten word of it,” Henderson replied.

“I need to see him,” she repeated, leaning on his desk, and lowering her voice. “Please, I need to reassure myself that he’s okay. Tell me where Clark is.”

Henderson shook his head. “I can’t do that. I’m sorry,” he said, and then braced himself for her trademark explosion.

“Fine!” Lane said, picking up the bag and dropping it on his desk. She slipped her hand in the side pocket, and pulled out a glasses case. “You said he’s missing his glasses. Maybe that’s why his eyes hurt. His spare pair is here.” She slid the case back into the side pocket. “Tell him… tell him…” She pressed her eyes closed. “Tell him that we all miss him and hope that he’s feeling better soon.” She exhaled a breath. “Especially me. You’ll tell him that, won’t you, Henderson?”

He shut his open mouth, and nodded. Mad Dog didn’t bite his head off.

“Oh, and tell him to call me as soon as his new abductors let him, if not sooner,” Lois said, shoving the bag roughly against his chest. “’cause I’d really like to say ‘goodbye’ before the world ends.”

She turned on her heel and marched out.

Ouch, Bill thought, rubbing his neck and setting the bag back onto his desk. He had never seen Mad Dog Lane use the guilt card before. Who knew she could wield it so skillfully?

***

Lois set down her sandwich and turned the key in her Jeep. It had taken several hours, and the sun to set, but finally Henderson left the Twelfth Precinct with the black bag in hand. Yes, putting a tracker on the bag would have been easier than following him herself, but more problematic, being that it was the MPD. They didn’t like it when people bugged their employees. Having been bugged herself in the past year, she understood why. She watched as he put the bag into his brown sedan and climbed in.

She hoped this didn’t end in a wild goose chase. If Henderson took the bag home, only to take it to Clark tomorrow, it would be one very long, cold night. She had better things to do. Actually, she didn’t. She could be hitting her sources about news on Superman, but she knew that her best bet was getting hold of Clark. It worried her that Clark hadn’t contacted Superman yet, or if he had, why Superman hadn’t made an appearance to reassure everyone of his and Earth’s safety. She had gotten the feeling that Henderson was holding out on her. There was something he wasn’t telling her.

The inspector had claimed to have spoken to Clark, so it couldn’t have been that her partner was in a coma. Could he be in an iron lung? No, wait; it was lead that was Superman’s nemesis, so Clark being in an iron lung wouldn’t stop him from contacting Superman. Actually, was there any lead in an iron lung? She would have to ask Jimmy to research that when she returned to the Planet.

She was surprised that Clark hadn’t asked Henderson to relay any message to her. Clark knew that she would be worried about him, so why hadn’t he written her a note to have Henderson give to her? Something was off; she could feel it in her bones. Something wasn’t right.

Lois followed Henderson’s car through the streets of Metropolis. True, she could have used the information she had gotten from him about the location where Clark was pulled from the water to narrow down which hospital he was most likely taken to, or to check 9-1-1 records, and ambulance calls, but she knew that Henderson taking the bag to Clark was a sure bet. The only thing she didn’t know was whether it would happen that night or the next morning. She had hoped Henderson would’ve taken the bag to Clark first thing. Maybe Henderson wasn’t joking about this not being his only case.

Henderson’s car eventually turned into the parking lot of Metropolis County Hospital. She should have known. It was the closest hospital to the docks. It wasn’t her usual stomping grounds, so the nursing staff wouldn’t know her on sight, which was good. She didn’t want to have Henderson catch her, so she waited in her car until he returned to his sedan without the bag. Once his car pulled back onto the street, she got out of her Jeep and went to take a walk up and down some hospital wards. She knew that because he was a ‘material witness’ he was under guard, which meant that there was an MPD officer outside his room. That would narrow down which room Clark was in pretty darn quick.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t expecting that there would be five floors of rooms. Luckily, by checking out the hospital map, she cut out Maternity from the list and started at ICU. She knew Henderson said he was awake and communicative, so he shouldn’t be in ICU, but if he had an armed guard and needed silence – no outside stimulation – it was possible.

After half an hour of wandering the halls, feeling completely lost, Lois finally rounded a corner and saw a uniformed policeman, sitting outside a door. He held a cup of coffee and was reading a magazine. BINGO! She had found Clark.

Somehow, she was going to have to sneak past a uniformed policeman to get in to see her partner. A policeman who never left his post, she discovered another hour later. A specific nurse had been assigned to work with Clark, too. When the shift change occurred the old nurse introduced the new nurse to the policeman and placed a hospital bracelet around her wrist as identification.

Damn! There just wasn’t going to be any easy way to sneak past the guard.

True, a part of her was happy that Clark’s safety was assured, but still… the rest of her was annoyed she was being kept locked out. She walked past the guard and tried to enter the room just past Clark’s.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?” the officer said. “You’ve got the wrong room. That one’s empty.”

Lois glanced up at the number on the door, threw the officer a ‘silly me’ expression. “Thanks,” she said, and moved down to the next room, which thankfully was occupied by someone who was asleep.

The rooms on either side of Clark were being left empty for some reason, probably for his safety. Her esteem of Henderson rose another notch. The inspector would not be a happy camper if Lois were caught breaking into her partner’s room. So, she better not get caught.

***End of Part 88***

Part 89

Mad Dog Lane is on the case. Comments ?