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

We left off with Phil waiting for Cat at the Daily Planet newsroom in Part 155...

“I can’t believe you came into work, Ralph, especially after Lois’s death threat. You know, don’t you, that she’s good for it?” some tall stocky man with blonde curls was saying to some squirrelly balding man.

“Nah. She doesn’t scare me,” Ralph replied, but Phil saw his telltale jumpy gaze, which meant he was lying.

“Yeah, well, the boss is her fiancée, now, Sherlock,” the curly haired guy reminded his buddy. “Luthor has the means to make you disappear in a way they won’t be able to identify you by your dental records, like that guy... uh… the one they found in France last week. You know the one, tortured beyond recognition and left to rot in the catacombs.”

Ralph appeared ready to urinate on himself as his eyes started to dart faster around the room. “Shut up, Wally,” he hissed. “Luthor’s a stand-up guy, a CEO. Don’t even suggest that he does things like that, even if he has no taste when it comes to women.”

“Come on,” Wally lowered his voice and nudged his friend. “You and I both know that you’d do Lane in a second.”

Wait. Lois Lane? Wasn’t that the name of Kent’s girl? She was engaged to Lex Luthor, the owner of the Daily Planet? Now, Phil understood Clark’s pessimism. Any woman who would reject a regular guy’s proposal for that kind of money and power was bad news.

“Anyway, you should’ve seen it, Ralph,” Wally said. “Cat and Kent at the Metro Diner, yesterday; they were practically holding hands and picking out china patterns.”

“Oh, come on, Wally. Cat and Kent are old news. Everyone was talking about them banging hips when I started here,” Ralph returned.

“I saw them kiss,” Wally insisted.

“You did not,” Ralph scoffed. “Anyway, she’s newly engaged to some engineering schmuck. She’s too smart to risk that by twenty-timing on him with Kent.”

Wally held up his hand in Boy Scout’s salute. “I swear I saw…”

Phil’s fist contacted Wally’s jaw before he could finish his sentence.

***

Part 156

Jack paced across the street from the Daily Planet, Clark Kent’s business card in his hand. He had spent a sleepless night at the shed thinking about the Englishman he had seen take Lois from the Mission. Before heading to the Daily Planet, Jack had watched Lois’s apartment and seen her enter the Englishman’s fancy car, so evidently he hadn’t kidnapped her… yet.

Bobby had said that everyone thought that Kent was as straight up as they came and that even Superman trusted him. Then again, Superman had apparently trusted Lois Lane too, and she was involved with Luthor, who ran a children’s home stricter than juvie. Perhaps she didn’t know what a jerkwad her fiancé was. Perhaps pigs would be flying to the moon next. No, she knew. She had to know.

If Lois was stepping out on Luthor with this Kent guy, maybe she wasn’t as evil as Jack had previously thought. This Englishman was the only person Jack could tie to his father’s disappearance, maybe if he could put Kent on his trail… Kent would end up disappearing too. No. Jack would warn Kent that this Englishman was dangerous, possibly a killer… only Jack had no proof and he was living on the streets. Why would Kent believe him?

Bobby had said Kent was in love with Lois. If Jack told Kent that Lois had pointed him in Kent’s direction and asked him to look into it, would Kent believe Jack merely because he wanted to believe it? If Jack told Kent that Lois couldn’t do anything about it, since the Englishman was guarding her, it might be plausible enough reasoning to get Kent to believe him. If Kent thought it would protect Lois to look into the Englishman’s activities… yeah, he’d have to buy it.

Jack paced for another five minutes. He glanced at his watch, and saw it was almost ten thirty. Where was Kent? Why hadn’t he come into work yet? Jack swallowed. Had that note Jack had pretended was from Lois gotten him killed?

He was about to leave when he noticed a woman walking down the street and enter the Daily Planet building. Jack scowled. What was she doing here, and dressed like that? Something wasn’t right, and he could feel it in the pit of his stomach.

***

Lois set down her phone, grabbed her purse, and slipped out of her office, down the hall, and through the back stairwell door. It exited to the parking garage. From there, she jumped a low wall at the back of the garage and ended up in the back alley. Nigel would never have to know that she left. To that end, she had left her LoLex watch in her top desk drawer.

She glanced up to the sky, but the sun was in her eyes and she couldn’t see Superman anywhere. “I’m heading to Suicide Slum on a tip. Follow me, and we’ll meet up there,” she murmured to him, knowing he was listening.

She had awoken that morning with a feeling of foreboding. Explosions, screams, and death had filled her dreams as if her whole world collapsed and she had been trapped in its rubble. Unfortunately, none of it was clear and specific. Thankfully, Clark was watching out for her today and would make sure nothing happened.

Two blocks away, she hailed a cab. Twenty long minutes later, Lois paid the driver and he drove off. Luckily, she knew Clark would be able to drop her off back downtown, because there was no way she’d be able to get a cab to pick her up in this neighborhood.

A tall, thin, flawlessly dressed man stepped out of a doorway and waved his fingers at her.

Lois raised her hand in greeting. “Ricky, I thought you usually covered the financial alley. What are we doing down here?” she asked. The two of them stood out in Suicide Slum like two debutantes at a country hoedown.

“I live down here,” Hicky Ricky told her. “And I thought it best if nobody either of us knew heard us talking. Come on, I’ll walk you to the elevated train and you can take that back to city central. We’ll talk on the way.”

She wondered what was so important that they couldn’t speak about it over the phone. “Okay.”

“Look, I know you’re working at LNN now, and I just thought you’d want to watch your back,” Ricky said.

“Whatta you mean?” she asked. Had he dragged her all the way to Suicide Slum to tell her that Luthor had hung her out as bait? She turned her engagement ring around so that the stone faced the palm of her hand and wasn’t so noticeable. She should have left it in her desk drawer with her watch but, with her recent luck, someone would have stolen it.

“Spagoda has been poking his nose where it doesn’t belong. People are noticing and they don’t like it,” Ricky said.

Lois wasn’t quite sure what Ralph had to do with her or LNN. “I warned him to get out of town,” she grumbled.

“He didn’t listen,” Ricky replied. “Do you know he’s been sleeping with your new co-worker Christine?”

“Oh, come on, Ricky, you’re going to make me lose my breakfast here,” she said, placing a hand to her churning stomach.

“I saw ‘em, over at that No-Tell Motel on Hobson last Friday. It’s one of those places that rent by the hour,” Ricky said. Lois didn’t need to ask what Ricky was doing there. He didn’t give his signature hickies for free.

Ralph and Christine. Things were starting to make sense. Ralph was the one who started this whole ball rolling with his question to Cosgrove at the press conference after he had stolen her notebooks. Robertson said that Christine had been working on it all weekend. Lois had thought she’d gotten word of Ralph’s impromptu interview of Daitch the previous Friday, and apparently, she had… in a room with bedbugs. She looked at Ricky. No, that was unfair. Ricky would never go to any establishment that had bedbugs. He cared too much about his skin.

“Thanks, Ricky. I’ll watch what I say around her,” Lois said, patting his arm. If Christine was willing to sleep with Ralph for a story, she was willing to kill for one. “Is this a new jacket? It’s so soft.”

Ricky preened, holding out his arm so she could stroke it again. “Crushed velvet. You like?”

“I wish I could get away with wearing something like that,” she said. Maybe someday on an undercover gig she could. “Keep an eye on Ralph, while you’re over in the alley. Make sure he doesn’t get himself in too much trouble.”

“Oh, girlfriend, he is soooo not my type,” Ricky said with a wink. “Not for all the money in Japan.”

“You and me both, Ricky,” Lois said. They paused at the base of the stairs for the elevated train.

“Speaking of which, I hear ‘congratulations’ are in order. You’re moving on up,” he said with a nudge.

Before Lois could respond, an old 1970s sedan screeched to a halt next to them and three big men jumped out. She doubted they were there to catch a train.

“Run!” Lois yelled, starting to climb the stairs.

It was too late. One of the men punched Ricky, sending him flying into some nearby garbage cans, and the other two followed Lois up the stairs. One of the men grabbed her arm, and she swung around and knocked him off balance with her other fist. He let go and stumbled down a few steps, allowing the second guy to catch up with her. In one fell swoop, he bent over to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder. She hit the back of his arm at the same time she brought her knee up to his chest, knocking him to the stairs.

This bought her a few seconds to run up a couple of stairs, but he grabbed her ankle, pulling her down to her chest and winding her. Not letting this stop her, she flipped over and sent the heel of her shoe to his face, which he blocked with his arm, breaking the heel of her shoe and pushing her leg back to the stairs. He hadn’t let go of her other leg, and systemically started to climb up her body, using his weight to hold her down. She sent an elbow back at him, which connected to his jaw and didn’t faze him. It didn’t do more than make him upset. He grabbed the back of her hair, jerking her head back and she screamed.

Suddenly, Lois felt a familiar set of spandex muscles surround her and lift her into the air. She curled her head and arms against his family’s crest and relished his embrace. A series of gunshots peppered the air. She felt Clark’s arms tighten and jerk against her back as they unexpectedly landed and rolled across a gravel-strewn roof. Clark had folded his cape around them, but it was still a rougher than usual landing. They skidded to a stop with Lois on top of him.

“Are you hurt?” Clark asked, his voice strained.

“Just some bruises, Chuck.” Lois ran her hands down his cheeks, and then pressed her lips to his. “I’ll be fine, better than fine, now,” she moaned between kisses. “You always knew how to make an entrance.”

“Lois,” he rasped against her lips. “Please.”

“Oh, Clark. I’m sorry. Forgive me. Forgive me. For…”

“Stop,” he whispered.

“Never,” she said, deepening the kiss and pressing her body against his. “I love you.”

He lifted his hands to her shoulders and pushed against them. “Get off me!”

Startled, Lois sat upright. “What?”

“Get… off… of… me!” he growled, his face contorting in what appeared to be pain.

“Clark?” she whispered, reaching to smooth back his hair.

He scooted backwards away from her. His breath was as labored as hers was.

She reached out towards him again. “We’re…”

He raised his palms to her as he gazed at her in horror. “Stay back.”

“Clark?” she asked.

“Don’t call me that!” he hissed, his voice full of torment and pain. “Just don’t.”

Right. He was in the suit. His secret identity. She glanced around; surely, no one could hear them on this rooftop. She climbed to her feet.

He still lay on his back on the roof, scooting further away from her.

Lois took a step towards him. “I know we haven’t been able to talk recently, but…”

“Go over there,” he commanded, pointing to the far side of the roof.

“Will you stop interrupting me?” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

Flinching, he shook his finger at the far corner of the building.

Okay, fine. She rolled her eyes and limped a few steps. She took off her shoe with the non-broken heel, banged it on the roof until its heel popped off, too. Then she returned it to her foot and walked uncomfortably to the far side of the roof from Clark. She looked over the edge. She could see the stairway to the elevated train below her, and Hicky Ricky’s scarf lying in the pile of garbage. He must have run off because as she looked the three men stumbled back to their car and drove away. “They’ve left. Don’t you want to go after them?”

“Not really,” he said. Clark was sitting up now, but he had reached the edge of the roof and was using it to pull himself slowly to his feet. He saw her step towards him and held his hand again. “Stay back.”

“Are you all right?” Lois asked. He looked as if he was physically in pain.

“No,” he replied sharply. “I expected many things from you, Lois, but never this.”

Guilt flooded her. “I’m sorry. I told you that. I wanted to talk to you and explain things for a while now, but I couldn’t. I’m sure you know what that’s like. It isn’t safe,” she said, feeling ridiculous talking across a roof. She took a step forward. “Lex…”

“Don’t... come any closer, Lois.”

She stopped. “We can’t have this conversation shouted across a rooftop, either,” she reminded him. “Please, let me…”

“No!” he insisted. “I… I can’t.”

Lois knew that her words in the park must have hurt him badly, worse than she had thought. “Cat said that you misunderstood, that I should talk to you, and explain things…”

“Not like this,” he snapped.

What was he so angry about? She was trying to apologize. “Hey! If you recall, I tried to get you to take me away weeks ago so we could talk, but nooooo…”

“So you could have killed me in Smallville instead of Metropolis?” he said.

“What?” she stammered. “I’m not trying to kill you.”

“Then why send me an emergency message you knew I couldn’t refuse, only to bring Kryptonite to the party?” he accused. He was back on his feet now.

“Kryptonite?” Lois glanced down at herself wondering where Lex could have secreted Kryptonite on her body. She wasn’t wearing one of his spy watches. Her suit didn’t have any pockets. The struggle had knocked her purse from her body. Her palm glowed green in the shadow of her hand. She turned it face up and saw her engagement ring. The green glow was hard to see in the bright light of the day.

Oh, crap.

“If you wanted me to leave, all you had to do was ask. I came here for you, Lois, only for you,” he said, stepping upon the ledge of the roof. “You’ve made your feelings towards me crystal clear. I won’t bother you any longer.”

Lois held up her left hand for him to stop as she put her right hand behind her. “No! Don’t!” she cried as he jumped. “I didn’t know!”

He landed on the roof next door. She could see that their slide across the roof had shredded his cape.

“Wait!” she called. “Come back!”

Clark didn’t even glance at her as he leapt from building to building ever faster until he was out of sight.

Lois balled her hands into fists as she screamed in frustration.

Lex was going to regret asking her to tango.

***

Jack waited and waited for what seemed like forever, but he knew from his watch it wasn’t more than ten minutes, when the woman exited the front doors of the Daily Planet. She was still wearing the grey janitorial jumpsuit. He followed her down the street. One block. Two blocks. She stopped at a trashcan and stuffed something into it, and then she opened the door of a waiting car and stepped inside. It was a familiar car. Jack had already seen another woman enter it that morning.

Driving the car was none other than the Englishman.

The Englishman pulled the car into traffic and he and Mrs. Cox disappeared into a sea of Metro Cabs.

Jack waited at the corner for the light to change.

The old Englishman, who Jack had always blamed for the disappearance of his father, knew Mrs. Cox.

Mrs. Cox worked for Mr. Luthor.

Did the old Englishman also work for Mr. Luthor? That made sense.

Had Lex Luthor been responsible for Ed Miner’s disappearance? Could Lois be the key to finding out what happened to his father?

Jack crossed the street and went to the trashcan Mrs. Cox had visited. He reached inside and pulled out a yellow Superman lunchbox.

***

Cat returned from the restroom to find Perry holding Phil back from Wally.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Perry chimed in. “This is a newsroom, not New York after a Mets-Yankees World Series!”

“This man insulted Cat’s honor!” Phil growled, trying to pull his arms free.

More than a few titters answered this comment. Cat knew she deserved that, but Phil didn’t.

“Cat doesn’t have any honor,” Wally scoffed.

Perry looked at Cat. “He’s with you, then?”

Cat nodded. “Perry, I’d like you to meet Phil, my fiancé.”

The Chief loosened his grip and let Phil go after Wally again.

“Phil, he’s beneath us. Forget about him,” Cat said, taking hold of Phil’s arm and dragging him off Wally. “We know the truth.”

Phil took a step back, but didn’t lower his fists. He looked at Cat with a ‘do we?’ expression. Cat gazed at him for questioningly as she put herself between the two men.

“Sciarra, don’t you have something better to do than gossip? Or do you and Cat need to switch desks for a week to teach you a lesson?” Perry asked, as the crowd around them scattered.

“I’m willing to give it a go,” Cat said, turning to Perry. “It’s about time people around here know I was hired because my reporting skills and not my looks.”

“I bet Kent know all about your skills,” Wally taunted.

Cat stuck her face and finger in Wally’s face. “Yeah, he does! Better than you’ll ever know. He knows that not only can I write circles around you, I could do your job with one hand tied around my back,” she returned.

Wally grinned, chortling. “I bet he does.”

“Cat,” Perry warned.

“What!” she snapped. “Is everything about sex with you guys? I’m talking about my job and you guys all naturally assume I’m talking about my private life. I’m more than a woman and sex goddess, and it’s past time I got some respect around here for all the hard work that I do.”

“Cat,” Perry said again, more softly, setting his hand on her shoulder and turning her focus off Wally and onto Phil’s retreating back.

Cat slugged Wally in the arm and ran to catch up with Phil. She reached him just as the doors of the elevators opened. She stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Is something wrong?”

“I… I don’t know, Cat. Maybe you should tell me,” he replied, slapping the manila envelope against her chest.

“What’s this?” she asked.

Phil said nothing and crossed his arms.

The envelope had nothing written on it but Phil’s name. Cat popped it open and saw a pile of black and white photographs of her and Clark. “Come on. Let’s discuss this in the conference room.”

Phil resisted. “Is there anything to discuss?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t know. It seems pretty cut and dried to me,” he said, his jaw tensing. “A picture says a thousand words.”

“Not a picture taken out of context,” Cat insisted. “Trust me; I do this for a living. Come on.”

Phil hesitated, and then came along grudgingly. He shut the door behind them to the conference room.

Cat poured the contents of the envelope onto the table. “This isn’t what it looks like,” she said, her heart racing as she shuffled through picture after picture of her in compromising positions with more than several men. “Where did you get these?”

“Does it matter?” Phil asked tersely.

“Yes,” Cat insisted. “First of all…” She pushed all the pictures that were of any man, excluding Clark and Arthur Chow. “All of these photos are from before I met you… not re-met you, but met you for the first time.” She turned to look at Phil. “I’ve made no secret of my past exploits and you know that I’ve dated many men.” She set her hand on the photos of her and Chow out to dinner and dancing at the Magic of the Night Ball. “This was from when I thought you were married. I was in a dark place in my life. I figured if I couldn’t have the man I want…” She set a hand on his chest. “You, then I should set my sights on the richest man I could find.” She shook her head. “He didn’t make me happy, Phil. None of these men…” She slid Chow’s pictures over to the others of her ex-lovers. “None of them ever made me happy as you have. I love you.”

Phil pointed the pile of photos of her and Clark at the Metro Diner from the previous day. “And Clark?”

“We’re just friends.”

He picked up a photo of Cat leaning towards Clark, from the angle of the picture it appeared as if they were kissing. “Just friends,” he scoffed.

Cat took hold of Phil’s arms. “There hasn’t been anyone since I met you, Phil. Not re-met you, Phil, but met you… back at the beginning of February.”

Phil stared at her. She could see that he was torn between wanting to believe her and the photographic evidence before him. “When were those pictures with Clark taken?”

“Yesterday, but they don’t mean anything. This picture…” She grabbed a photo of her laughing. “Clark had just told me a joke. This one…” She pulled forward another one, where she was touching Clark’s chest. “He had just admitted something unexpectedly good happened in his life, and since Lois, since before Lois actually, he hasn’t had many of those, so he was worried it was bad luck in disguise. He doesn’t talk about it much, but he’s had a really rough life. I was being understanding, here.”

He pulled forward another one, where Clark was guiding her towards the restaurant. “This one, where he has his hand on you possessively?”

“He’s a gentleman, but he’s barely touching me here. Think of him as a knight and he’s protecting me with his shield,” she explained.

Phil either continued to look skeptical or was now annoyed that she described the man she knew was the Man of Steel as a knight. “And this one?” He pointed to the one that looked like them kissing again.

“I leaned close to whisper something to him. From this angle, I know what it looks like, but you’ve got to trust me…”

“Have you and Clark ever kissed?” Phil asked, and she knew that she had lost that trust.

“No. Not really,” she replied with a shrug.

His eyes narrowed. “Not really? What’s that supposed to mean? On the cheek or on the mouth?”

“Yes, I’ve kissed Clark on the mouth. So what? It didn’t mean anything,” Cat said, crossing her arms.

“Friends don’t kiss ‘just friends’ of the opposite sex on the mouth, Cat. Was it during an undercover assignment?”

“Well, no. Last summer, I was trying to make Lois jealous so she’d realized how much she liked Clark. I’m a flirt, so I gave him a peck a few times on the mouth. It didn’t work; Lois just thought worse of Clark for sleeping with me,” she said, flinched, and then held up her hands. “Not that we ever did! I just was trying to push her buttons.”

“Actually, Cat, I’m beginning to realize just how much I don’t know you,” Phil said.

“Phil, please. I love you. These photos mean nothing. Please, believe me,” she pleaded.

“Why? Why should I believe you?” he asked sharply.

“This is like out of a nightmare,” she murmured, sorting through the pictures again. On one of the pictures of Clark was attached a sticky note. Ask Cat about November. She slid into a chair, her knees weak. The baby was due in November. How did this person know about the baby? Nobody knew except her doctor and Clark. A new realization struck her as a chill went down her spine. “Oh, God, Owen.” She buried her face into her shaking hands.

“Who’s Owen?” Phil growled.

Cat swallowed, unable to look at him. “My college sweetheart. Ten years ago, we were engaged to be married…” she whispered, her voice rough. “Until I received an envelope just like this… only worse. He didn’t deny sleeping with all those women while we were dating.” She wiped her eyes and turned to face Phil. “I had saved myself for him… for marriage, and he said he had to sleep with those women because he had to get his jollies somewhere. He said it like it had been my fault that he lied and cheated on me.” She sniffled and rubbed her nose. “I would never cheat on you, Phil. Please, believe me.”

He knelt down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her to his chest. “I want to believe you, Cat… but…”

She held on tightly to him. “Someone is trying to sabotage my life, Phil. I had always thought the person who sent me those pictures of Owen was my savior, but now… I’m not so sure… maybe they were just trying to hurt me for some reason,” she said.

“You’re sounding paranoid,” Phil said.

“Yeah! Then you tell me how in the hell these were taken and put in your hands!” she demanded, knocking them off the table. “Tell me why I’m paranoid when someone is still following me, and eavesdropping on my conversations and…” She paused. The Voyeur. She turned and looked over Phil’s shoulder and through the glass conference room door at Lois’s desk. They had found cameras and bugs focused on her desk last summer. Lois had told Cat that Lex was spying on her again, and had always insisted they speak in the privacy of the rest room. Then the other day, when Cat had told Clark about being pregnant, they had been standing at Lois’s old desk. “Oh, God. Why? Why would he do that to me? What have I ever done to him?” Did he know about her going to see Toni Taylor? Did he know about her investigation of the tracking watches he gave to his girlfriends?

“I hate to say it, Cat, but isn’t this what you do? You spy on other people’s private lives and share their indiscretions with the world.”

“This is different,” she said, pointing at the envelope. “I promote other people socially. If they break the rules or the law, then I out them and publically shame them. That’s the trade-off for being in the public eye. People have to take responsibility for their own actions, Phil. I have done nothing in my life for which I’m ashamed. I’m not embarrassed by my past, but you have to believe me that it is my past.” She touched his cheek. “Since I met you, I haven’t wanted that life anymore… I’ve only wanted you.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you too, Cat,” he murmured.

She sighed and brushed his lips with a soft kiss.

With a deep breath, Phil ended the kiss. “But I need you to prove it to me.”

Cat leaned back to look him in the eye, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“I need you to stop being friends with Clark Kent.”

Her jaw dropped. “You want me to choose between the man I love and my best friend?”

“No,” Phil said. “I want to be your best friend now.”

Tears pooled up in her eyes as she caressed Phil’s cheek. “Please, don’t do this, Phil. Please. I love you, but Clark needs me.”

“I need you, Cat,” he whispered.

“Clark’s life is falling apart, Phil. He’s so confused about Lois… his reputation is in tatters… he’s so lost and alone and frightened. He would spiral out of control without me. I cannot abandon him, not now,” she said, tears dampening her cheeks. “He has no one, but me.”

Phil nodded and stood up. “I understand.”

“No, Phil, you don’t. Don’t make me choose. Please, if you truly love me, don’t make me choose,” she pleaded. “I’d never be able to forgive myself or you.”

“If Clark had to choose between your friendship and his love of Lois, who would he choose, Cat?”

Cat bit her bottom lip. She appreciated Phil’s point. They both knew that Clark would choose Lois.

“You need to do what’s best for you,” Phil said.

She sniffled. “He would never abandon me,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “When Lois told him she didn’t like our friendship, he stood up for me. He has believed in me as no one else ever has, Phil. He has always seen the good in me. He was there for me when nobody else was. Through my friendship with Clark, I felt myself worthy of being loved. He is my best friend, and I can’t abandon him. I’m sorry, if you cannot accept that.”

Phil nodded. “So am I.” He turned and left.

Cat dropped back down to her seat and wept.

***

William Henderson flipped papers back and forth in his file. Perry White had asked to look through Kent’s file on Luthor one more time to see if they could use anything against the new owner of the Daily Planet.

Hunches. No facts. Very thin threads tying the billionaire to murder victims. Nothing concrete. Not even enough coincidences to bring to his lieutenant’s attention, let alone for a search warrant.

His phone rang. “Henderson.”

It was the desk sergeant. “Inspector, there’s a phone call for you.”

“About what?” Bill grumbled.

“An attempted murder.”

“Patch him through to Homicide,” Bill ordered.

“She says it’s associated to one of your on-going cases.”

Bill sat up straighter. “Which one?”

“She didn’t say,” the sergeant said.

Henderson gazed up at the ceiling with annoyance. “Did she give you a name?”

“Nina.”

“That name means nothing to me. How about a last name?” Bill asked.

“Hold on,” the sergeant said. A minute later, the sergeant was back on the line. “Sorry, Inspector. She says her name is Meena,” he spelt it. “Kent.”

Bill didn’t know if he would’ve associated the name with Clark Kent, if he hadn’t been looking at his name when the desk sergeant mentioned it. “Patch her through.” He hung up the phone, closed the file on Luthor, and walked over to his filing cabinet.

Chuck and Meena. He had almost forgotten about that note from his partner that Clark had gotten in his bag at the hospital. Had someone tried to off Kent again? He had better close that case soon or someone was going to start wondering why the Daily Planet reporter wasn’t able to die.

Bill’s phone rang with the transfer. “Hello?”

“Henderson?” a female voice asked over the line.

“Yes, this is Inspector William Henderson.”

“I need your help,” she said for the first time he could remember. “There’s been an attempted murder.”

“Who’s trying to kill you now, Lane?” he asked, amazed she had made it this far into the week.

“Not me. Superman.”

***End of Part 156***

Part 157

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