Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found
HerePart 105Part 106 “I’m just asking, Professor, why the data would have changed,” Lois repeated, more than slightly annoyed that Daitch had postponed their meeting until late in the afternoon, causing Lois to make two trips to EPRAD, and that he was now trying to give her the runaround. “You told Superman that the initial calculations indicated that there was only a thirty-five percent chance of Nightfall hitting Earth. Then a week ago, suddenly it was only a ten percent chance it would miss. Do the paths of asteroids have a tendency to shift so dramatically?”
“Well, no...” Professor Daitch said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Not usually.”
“Was there anything else about Nightfall Major or its path, which was different from other asteroids?” she asked. Since EPRAD never differentiated between the larger and smaller asteroid by changing its name after Superman reduced Nightfall’s size by crashing into it, someone at the NY Times came up with the nicknames ‘Nightfall Major’ and ‘Nightfall Minor’ to describe the two versions of the asteroid. The nicknames had been picked up by the televisions networks during the previous week and were now considered the official designations for the two versions of Nightfall.
“We were able to analyze one of the small meteorites, which struck Monday night. Its composite was the same ratio of nickel to iron as shown on the remnants on Superman’s suit…” Daitch paused.
She didn’t know for what she was hoping. That the Nightfall asteroid was partially composed of Kryptonite, or that it was a pushed off course by another planet’s gravitational pull or a large spaceship? Anything that would confirm that Superman could have been exposed independently to Kryptonite prior to Clark coming into contact with the abductors, thereby proving without a doubt that Lex did not have Kryptonite and was trying to kill Superman. Lois didn’t want to exonerate Lex of this crime. It would just make her investigation easier if she knew he wasn’t actively trying, or in the planning stages, to kill Superman. Lois waited a few moments, and then said, “So, no?”
The Professor cleared his throat. “Um… no. It appears to have been a normal asteroid.”
She nodded. “At what point did you realize that your initial data was incorrect?”
“It wasn’t wrong!” Professor Daitch insisted.
Lois looked at him skeptically. “Well, which was it? Nightfall Major changed from its initial course, or your data was wrong? Surely, you wouldn’t have sent Superman into space to collide with Nightfall without double-checking, triple-checking, the data to make sure that Nightfall Major had indeed changed course.”
“Of course! I ran my calculations three times on my computer, and then sent it to my assistant to check it twice more on his,” Daitch countered.
She raised a brow, not liking that Lex might have actually been correct. “Who did you have check the data independently of EPRAD?”
Professor Daitch raised a finger. “Dr…. er… Dr. Martin Solsvig at LexLabs…” He started rummaging through the papers on his desk. “— confirmed our initial calculations.” He picked up one paper and held it up to her.
Lois took it out of his hand. She perused the document a moment and then looked at Daitch. “This report was done in April of last year.”
“As I said, he confirmed my initial information.”
“The data that said Nightfall Major would
not hit Earth?” Lois sought clarification.
“Correct,” Professor Daitch said with a nod.
“Uh-huh,” Lois said, handing the report back. “May I get a copy of this report, and also the one he did reconfirming your new findings that Nightfall Major would indeed strike Earth?”
The man set the report to the side. “You may have a copy of this report, Ms. Lane, but Dr. Solsvig didn’t reconfirm my later findings.”
“He didn’t reconfirm your findings?” she echoed.
“Once we discovered that Nightfall Major’s trajectory had shifted to a collision course, the information became classified,” Professor explained. He cleared his throat. “You know, ‘need to know’.”
Her eyes widened. “So, instead of having someone independently check your new findings, you decided to keep the information quiet? For what reason exactly?”
Daitch’s gaze narrowed. “Ms. Lane, are you implying that Nightfall Major would have missed if we hadn’t done anything, or if we hadn’t brought Superman in to stop it?” He started shuffling through the papers on his desk again.
“I have a source who claims that very thing, Professor,” Lois replied. Not an official source. Not a source she could quote or would quote, should this story ever make the light of day. This interview was more to satisfy her morbid curiosity. If Lex and her vision were correct, the impact of such a story could be devastating to Superman as well as EPRAD, and that wasn’t the purpose of this investigation. The purpose of this investigation was to see
how and possibly why the data changed.
“A-ha!” Professor Daitch finally announced, holding up a print out of an e-mail. “I
did have independent confirmation, Ms. Lane.”
Lois took the paper from Professor Daitch, reading out loud, “The asteroid F2794 will strike the Earth. Double check your data. I did.” Then there was an attached document.
“F2794 was the asteroid’s designation before we re-named it ‘Nightfall’,” Professor Daitch explained the obvious.
“So,
you didn’t discover that Nightfall Major would impact Earth, someone else did? Who sent you this?” she asked.
“A colleague in London,” Daitch replied vaguely.
A colleague who indeed thought that Daitch’s initial calculations were incorrect.
“I’ll need his name and contact information, if you have it. May I also get a copy of this document he sent you?” Lois asked, flipping closed her notebook and resting her hands in her lap. “I’ll wait.”
*******
Missing*******
A woman walked up to Clark’s desk, but he was out on some rescue and wasn’t in the office. After a few minutes, she moved towards Lois’s desk. She didn’t look like a Superman groupie; she seemed awkward, nervous, and unsure if she should be there. Okay, that was how the Superman groupies acted too. Lois and Clark sometimes got more than their fair share because of all the articles they wrote about the Man of Steel. There was something different about this woman. She didn’t look excited or thrilled to be there; she looked as if this was her last hope.
Cat stood up from the break table and moved to talk to the woman. She looked to be about Lois’s age, maybe slightly older, with strawberry blonde hair cut poorly into a functional style by a cheap stylist. She definitely wasn’t some city professional by the way she was dressed. If Cat had to guess, the woman was from out of town, possibly a housewife dressed to make a good first impression.
“Hi. Can I help you?” Cat asked.
“I’m looking for Clark Kent,” the woman said.
“Clark stepped out of the office for a few minutes. I’m…” Cat said, holding out a hand to introduce herself.
“Lois Lane?” the woman guessed with enthusiasm, grabbing Cat’s hand and shaking it. “I should’ve known by your classy outfit that you were her. You were my second choice, being that I know that you often write stories with Mr. Kent.”
Cat opened her mouth to correct the woman of this horrendous mistake, but then remembered that Lois was in court all week. Would this woman talk to a gossip columnist about whatever it was? Would telling this woman the truth lose Clark a source for a story? “Nice to meet you, Ms…?” Cat said instead.
“Mrs. Dawson, Claire Dawson. I know Mr. Kent has been covering the celebrity kidnappings, and I’d hoped that he’d… well, you’ll be able to help me…”
***
Clark returned from the ATM holdup to find the strangest note on his desk.
Clark –
Meet me in the conference room. New kidnapping. I’m Lois.
– CatClark raised a brow and walked over to the conference room with a feeling of mystification. Cat, still dressed in one of her ‘snare Arthur Chow’ outfits, was listening attentively to a woman he had never seen before. As he approached, Cat glanced up and, despite his baffled expression, waved him inside as if nothing strange were occurring. He opened the door but before he could say anything, Cat spoke.
“This is my partner Clark Kent. Clark, this is Claire Dawson. Mrs. Dawson’s sister has gone missing.”
Clark held out his hand to shake Mrs. Dawson’s hand. “Hello,” he said hesitantly, still confused as to why Cat would call herself his ‘partner’. “When did she disappear?”
“A week ago Sunday. The night before Impact Day,” Mrs. Dawson explained, raising a hand to her head. “Or, I guess, technically it was Monday; that night at some point.”
He nodded.
What a horrible time to lose a child. Although, he added silently.
Anytime would be a horrible time to lose a child. “How old is she?”
“Thirty-four,” Mrs. Dawson said.
Clark’s jaw dropped as his gaze darted to Cat.
Thirty-four? Clearly, this woman didn’t belong to the ultra rich set whose children were being kidnapped. “Perhaps you can explain what my… partner and I can do for you?” he said, sitting down at the table with them.
“As I was explaining to Ms. Lane before you came in…” Mrs. Dawson said with a nod to Cat.
Clark tossed a scornful look in Cat’s direction, which his friend ignored.
“My sister is an OB/Gyn. She graduated top of her class from New York University’s School of Medicine, and has a thriving practice…” Mrs. Dawson’s voice faltered and she wasn’t able to go on.
“Mrs. Dawson came into town from Garden City, NJ, where she lives as a homemaker…” Cat tried to fill in what she knew for Mrs. Dawson as the other woman composed herself.
“Stay-at-home mom,” Claire Dawson corrected. “My son Damien and his baby sister Carrie have been staying with my mother-in-law this week. I wasn’t getting anywhere over the phone and came out here in-person in hopes of finding something, anything.” She shook her head. “I feel as if I’ve been flailing my arms and spinning in circles. I need help.”
“Of course,” Cat said, sounding very un-Cat-like with her sincerity.
“Brenda Muldoon is her name, Dr. Muldoon,” Mrs. Dawson went on, flipping open her purse and pulling out a photograph of a striking, professional-looking woman with long, naturally red hair pulled back into a bun. She was laughing as if the photographer had caught her unaware in a rare moment of joy. “She takes her job very seriously, and she wouldn’t go off like this without telling me, the hospital, or her patients.”
“The MPD has told Mrs. Dawson that many people took the opportunity given to them during Nightfall to change their lives drastically, quit their jobs, move out of town, spend money they didn’t have, or…” Cat’s voice faded.
“Commit suicide,” Mrs. Dawson filled in what Cat could not. “Bren wouldn’t have done any of those things.”
“Apparently,” Cat went on, speaking to Clark. “Many people have been reported as missing in the past week, so many in fact, that MPD can’t keep up with all the cases.” She turned back to Mrs. Dawson, and continued, “My partner himself disappeared during the confusion.”
Clark shot Cat a sharp glance. “I’m sure my case was unique, Ca… er…
Lois,” he said with a warning tone.
“Oh? What happened to you, Mr. Kent?” Mrs. Dawson asked with hope in her eyes, as she sniffled into a tissue.
“It isn’t important,” Clark answered, knowing his experience would dash any hopes Mrs. Dawson might have at finding her sister alive.
“He was abducted and left to die in Hob’s Bay,” Cat informed her.
Mrs. Dawson gasped and openly wept into her hands.
Clark glared at his friend before saying, “But I’m sure that isn’t what happened to your sister, Mrs. Dawson.”
“Were other bodies found in Hob’s Bay since… well, in the last couple of weeks?” Mrs. Dawson asked, looking up at him and wiping her nose with a tissue.
“As far as I know, mine was the only one,” Clark reassured her. “But I’ll double check with the man in charge of my case if it would ease your mind.”
“It would. The last time I spoke to Bren, she told me not to worry, that she would make it through whatever happened just fine, and that I should concentrate on taking care of my own family,” Mrs. Dawson said. “I asked her ‘how? How would she make it through on her own?’ and she told me that she ‘had a way’. I feel just awful. I should’ve insisted that she come to Garden City. I mean, I did insist, and she turned me down, but I should have been more forceful. She said that she couldn’t abandon her patients… not at a time such as this.”
Cat and Clark exchanged a look.
“Was she dating anyone?” Cat asked.
Clark then clarified this inquiry, “Is she close to anyone local, in Metropolis, to whom she would have confided? Friends, co-workers, a roommate, a boyfriend or fiancée, that sort of thing.”
“No one in particular that I’m aware of. Our parents died ten years ago, and since then, it was just us two until I married Jason. Brenda dated some guy a couple of months ago…” Mrs. Dawson shook her head. “I can’t remember his name. I’m sorry, but it wasn’t serious because she ended it, saying that she’d rather concentrate on her career for the time being.”
“I completely understand,” Cat said, patting the woman’s hand.
Clark wondered again, who had taken over Cat’s mind.
Mrs. Dawson reached into her bag and retrieved a leather-bound notebook, which she handed to Cat. “I found her address book in her apartment and went through it from A to Z. If she told anyone she was going away, they weren’t in there. According to Metropolis General, she was OB on-call overnight Sunday to Monday, even delivered three babies, but then never came in to check on her patients Monday night. The Chief of Staff at the hospital thought it odd, but not too surprising, being that many people stopped going to work during the crisis or skipped work on Impact Day.” Mrs. Dawson looked deep into Clark’s eyes. “My sister would
never have done that, Mr. Kent. Bren wasn’t one ever to shirk her duties. If she was supposed to be somewhere, I could guarantee you that she’d be there helping people until the bitter end, unless someone or something stopped her from doing so.”
“Does she have a car?” Clark asked.
“No, she preferred to use taxis in the city, much less hassle,” Mrs. Dawson said.
Cat turned to Clark. “But there weren’t any taxis out that night or, at least, very few of them. When we were trying to get to the Planet, Sunday night, Lo… um…
Cat and I couldn’t get one, so we ended up walking.”
“I have to return home and take care of my own family,” Mrs. Dawson said, standing up. “Otherwise, I would stay and keep searching. Frankly, I don’t know where else to look.”
“We can’t guarantee anything, Mrs. Dawson,” Clark said, standing up as she did.
“This will be our top priority,” Cat added, and Clark gave her another sharp look, knowing that it couldn’t be.
“Oh. Thank you, Ms. Lane, Mr. Kent,” Mrs. Dawson said, handing Cat a piece of paper with her contact information on it. “I know you’ll be able to find something. She couldn’t have vanished off the face of the Earth without a trace.”
“Let me walk you to the elevators,” Clark offered.
“That’s all right, Mr. Kent. Thank you, but I can find the way. I’m sure you and Ms. Lane are very busy. Thank you for your time.” Mrs. Dawson smiled at them weakly and walked out of the conference room and towards the elevators.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Clark shut the door and faced Cat. “What are you doing?”
“Finding you a top notch story, I would say. Did you hear what she said? MPD has been inundated with missing person reports since last week. This could be
huge!” Cat exclaimed, her eyes alight with enthusiasm.
Clark set his hand on her arm and led her back to the table, shaking his head at the resemblance to his true partner. “Cat, what’s going on with you? This isn’t like you. These clothes, this story, impersonating Lois.”
Cat sat down at the table and removed her glasses. “I’ve done some thinking recently. I realized between seeing how much in love you were with Lois…”
“
Are. I’m still in love with her,” he corrected. “Lois and I are only pretending to be just friends.”
“Right. Sorry. I should’ve known that,” she said wryly. “Whatever. Between falling so heavily for Phil and seeing the two of you together, I realized I want more from my life.”
Clark smiled. “I think that’s great, Cat, but…” He looked again at her outfit. It was another one of those conservative business suits she wouldn’t have been caught dead in a week ago. This one was a boring navy. “Arthur Chow? Are you sure?”
She shrugged. “Why not? Can’t I have high goals? Anyway, we aren’t all destined to be with our soul mates. Arthur may be a little conservative, but he’s kind to me, and he’ll take good care of me, very good care of me.”
“Cat, you don’t choose someone to love by the size of their bank account. You find someone who will love you for you.”
Cat pinched her lips together. “And does Lois love you for all of you?”
“Yes, I believe she does,” he replied, crossing his arms.
“Oh? Have you told her about
all of you, then?”
He cleared his throat. “It’s a process.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’. What’s the difference between me not revealing the real me to Arthur and you not telling Lois about yourself?” she asked.
“Because you’re pretending to be someone you’re not,” Clark explained.
Cat crossed her arms and waited, evidently not accepting that as a difference.
“I
am Clark. This is who I am, Cat,” he insisted.
She shook her head. “And who’s to say that this isn’t the real me? Only in really hot, scratchy clothes?” she replied, opening the top buttons of her suit jacket. “How can people breathe in all these layers?”
Clark decided to cut his losses and call this argument a draw. “Why did you tell Mrs. Dawson that you’re Lois?” he asked.
“I didn’t,” Cat said, heading back to the newsroom. “When I approached her, she just made that assumption and I didn’t correct her.” She shrugged. “She seemed familiar with the names of the Planet reporters, and I was afraid she wouldn’t talk to a gossip columnist, especially after she mentioned her sister disappearing. One of the hazards of the trade, I’m afraid. Had she been connected to the wealthy children abductions, a gossip columnist is the last person she’d open up to, even if I’m dressed like this.” She nudged Clark before sitting down at her desk. “I feel like I’ve had a taste of undercover work, and I must say, I like it.” She grinned and flipped open Dr. Muldoon’s address book. “Shall I see if we know any of the same people?”
“I’ll call Inspector Henderson and ask him about the Hob’s Bay angle, even though I don’t think there’s anything to it,” Clark said.
“You did promise,” Cat teased.
“I can’t believe someone would use Nightfall as an excuse to go on a killing spree,” he went on, ignoring her comment.
Cat smiled indulgently at him. “And that’s what we love about you, Clark, your faith in your fellow man.”
“Can I help it if I want this to be a better place than when I found it?” he asked, feeling a bit slighted by her teasing. He knew only too well the horrors that man would do to one another.
“Apparently not,” she replied. “Why don’t you ask Henderson about the other disappearances as well?” She winked before adding, “Partner.”
Clark felt like groaning, having no idea what either Perry or Lois would think about this situation. He guessed they wouldn’t take it well.
***
Lois shifted her briefcase to her other shoulder, pulled out a couple of quarters and plunked them into the pay phone. She had been trying to get hold of him all weekend and was a bit miffed that he was so difficult to reach. Finally, she had asked Jimmy to tell her the best time to contact him. Jimmy informed her that his cousin was just starting spring break.
“Hello?” a groggy voice said into the telephone.
“Jimbo, it’s Lois Lane. I have a job for you. Can you meet me at the courthouse for lunch?” she said.
“Lois! Yeah, sure. Does this have something to do with Mr. Laderman’s trial?” Jimmy’s cousin Jimbo said, suddenly awake.
“No. This is for another investigation,” she replied, lowering her voice as another reporter inched closer. She gave him the evil eye, and he wisely backed up. “I’m hoping you can keep this between us until we know what we’ve got here.”
“No problem, Lois. Why not have Jimmy work on it?” he asked.
“It’s more your area of expertise.”
“Fair enough. Hey, how’s Mr. Laderman’s case going? We’re all worried about him at M.U.T.”
“So far, it’s all circumstantial evidence. Him confessing to killing Harrison doesn’t help matters any,” Lois said.
“They must’ve misunderstood him, Lois, ‘cause there isn’t any way Mr. L. could have killed anyone,” Jimbo informed her.
“Well, maybe you can convince him to take the stand in his own defense. Right now, he’s doing everything possible to be convicted,” she explained.
“Really? Why would he do that?” Jimbo wondered.
They set a time and place to meet for lunch before she hung up. Jimbo had a point. Why would Eugene Laderman do that? She returned to the gallery to see if she could get an interview with the man himself and ask him that directly.
***
“Laderman’s lawyer wouldn’t let me anywhere near his client,” Lois grumbled after swallowing a bit of her pastrami sandwich. “He thinks I’ll sabotage his case for some reason. Thing is, I don’t think it could get any worse for Eugene.”
Jimbo popped a chip into his mouth. “He could get convicted.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “Okay, what do need me to do?”
Lois gave him the diskette. “Can you take a look at this file and see if there’s something unusual about it?”
“Sure. What is it?” Jimbo asked. “What am I looking for?”
“I don’t know exactly. First look for something hinky, something that shouldn’t be there,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink.
“Hinky?” he said skeptically.
“Yes, ‘hinky’. It’s a word, just as ‘chumpy’ is. It means funky, un-kosher, wrong, strange,” Lois said, defending her choice of words.
“Is it a virus? You know a computer program that’s developed to do something harmful to another program or software,” Jimbo explained.
“I know what a virus is,” she snapped. Then she thought about what he said. “No,” she began again slowly. “No, I don’t
think so. It’s just a bunch of calculations. Physics, I think. Just double check the data on it… by hand, if you have to.”
“And look for something hinky? Got it,” he said, then mumbled. “I’m feeling a bit chumpy myself.” He took a sip of his soda. “Why exactly do you want me to do this instead of Cousin Jimmy?”
“Because it has to do with computers, and I didn’t want him to pass it to someone else. Let’s just say, ‘it’s sensitive’.”
“How sensitive?”
Lois leaned forward. “Very. Top-secret sensitive. Government agencies dripping egg down their face sensitive,” she whispered, and then shrugged. “Or my hunch could be wrong.”
Jimbo’s eyes opened wide. “And you brought it to me? Wow! Um… That’s… Thanks, Lois. Are you sure you don’t want to take it to S.T.A.R. Labs?” he said, holding it back to her.
She held up her hand. “Positive.”
“Um… I hate to ask, Lois, but… uh… Are you paying me?”
“I’m cashing in my favor for covering the Laderman Trial for you,” she replied, standing up. “Hey, what’s the class you took from him anyway?”
“It’s called ‘Curing Computer Viruses’,” Jimbo said. “About finding antidotes to computer worms and such.”
Computer worms? That sounds disgusting.“Oh, I’m sure this isn’t anything like that,” she said with more confidence than she felt.
***
Clark glanced up as Lois came down the steps and approached her desk. He hadn’t seen her alone in days, since their last rendezvous in the supply closet, and his conversation with Cat was weighing heavily on him. He hated that Lois was spending almost every day at the courthouse; although, he had to admit this forced separation kept them from appearing too close. Without greeting anyone, Lois unpacked her notebooks from her briefcase and turned on her computer. She started to type up that day’s story about the trial.
Or that was what he assumed she would be typing up, since he hadn’t spoken to her. She could have a great Superman… no, wait, what was he thinking? Of course, she couldn’t. Whatever it was, she looked frustrated and he wondered if it was because she missed him as much as he missed her.
Clark leaned back in his chair, held up a folder, and watched her through it using his x-ray vision, on the off chance someone was spying on him. Not once did she glance his way, he realized after five minutes. He wondered if it would be unproductive towards their ruse if he went to her and asked how her day had gone. He felt as if he should mention that Cat had impersonated her earlier.
Lois turned and glanced towards him with a scowl. Perhaps he would talk to her later, when she was in a better mood. She stood up and Clark innocently set down his file. She grabbed a pencil out of his cup and growled, “Stop stealing my pencils, Kent.”
“No,” he replied under his breath. If stealing her pencils might mean a chance meeting in the supply closet, he would steal them happily away from her until they were both old and grey.
She froze in a stiff manner for a moment as if she had heard him, and then continued towards her desk.
Clark picked up his telephone and hid his grin behind his hand as he dialed.
That’s right, Minha, I still want to kiss you even when you’re mad.Lois turned back towards him after returning to her desk as if she were going to say something, but him being on the telephone stopped her. She nodded and returned to typing up her article.
“Hello, Inspector,” Clark said after Henderson answered. “Clark Kent here.”
“Hello, Kent. Recover any more memories?” Henderson asked with hope.
“Sadly, no,” Clark replied. “I was wondering if there was any new information on my case or Joe Rory.”
“Are you asking as a victim or a reporter?” Henderson asked.
“Both.”
“Then, nothing fit for print, Kent,” Henderson said.
“How about off-the-record?” Clark asked.
“Joe Rory was seen the night you disappeared, late, at a bar with another man by the name of Jones. No ID on him as of yet,” Henderson said. “The Anchor Bar, in case you’re wondering, down at the docks.”
Clark was familiar with it; not that he had ever been inside though. “Jones? Jonesy?” he repeated the name and a familiar feeling came over him. “There was an officer Jones who guarded me at the hospital.”
“Good man. I doubt he’s involved in this mess. He’s third generation cop,” Henderson said by way of confirmation.
“No, that wasn’t it. When Nurse Michelle first mentioned him, I felt a bad vibe in association with his name. What’s that saying? That someone walked over my grave,” Clark explained. “It might not mean anything, but since I’ve recovered my other memories I wracked my brain as to why the name ‘Jones’ would have such an effect on me.”
“And?”
“I’ve come up dry,” Clark said.
“I’ll take that as a definite maybe on ‘Jonesy’,’ Henderson said, and Clark could hear the skritch-scratch of him taking notes over the line.
“Any description of this Jones character?” Clark asked.
“Sorry, Kent, as a witness I can’t tell you more in case I’ve got to bring you in to view a line-up.”
“I understand, Inspector,” Clark said. He understood, but it still bothered him. Pressing down his frustration, he returned to the main reason he called, the missing Dr. Brenda Muldoon. “Just out of curiosity, how many bodies did you guys pull out of Hob’s Bay since the Nightfall eclipse?”
“One.”
Clark grabbed his notebook and one of the pencils from his ‘stole from Lois’s desk’ cup. “Who?”
Henderson chuckled. “You.”
Clark pursed his lips and started weaving his useless pencil through his fingers. “I wasn’t a ‘body’ per se.”
“Touché, Kent. You’re the only one I heard of. Want me to ask around? I doubt there were any more, or I would’ve been informed,” Henderson said.
“Thanks, Henderson. I’d appreciate it,” Clark said. He doubted his disappearance and Dr. Muldoon’s had any thing in common, and Henderson had just confirmed it. “Oh, I heard the strangest rumor today,” he added, trying to sound casual.
“Oh?” the Inspector said warily.
Clark watched Lois stand up and head off towards the supply closet. His brow furrowed, wondering if she was going to get yet another box of pencils. Then, again, the ladies’ room was also down that hall. He cleared his throat. “That you guys at the MPD have been inundated with missing person cases in the past week.”
There was silence on the line, and Clark would’ve wondered if Henderson had hung up, except Clark could hear his heart beat increase.
***End of Part 106*** Part 107 And just because you didn't have enough plot threads to keep straight...
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