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From Part 16:“I’ll be there,” Clark promised. “In fact, I’ll be in the newsroom in -” He glanced at his watch. “- about five minutes. I want to do some research first.”
“Olsen’s already here. Anything he can help with?”
“Yeah. Get him to check out a series of fires in the West River area in the last few days.”
“More fires? What’s this?”
“Arson again, and reports of guys in protective suits using weird flame-throwers. The police are looking into it, but they don’t have any leads so far.”
“You’re thinking someone’s trying to buy up real estate cheaply?” the editor suggested.
“That’s what springs to mind,” Clark said dryly. “I wouldn’t miss that press conference for anything.”
**********
Now read on...It surely couldn't be a coincidence that everything this morning seemed to have Lex Luthor mixed up in it somehow, Lois thought as she poured herself a coffee while waiting for Clark to return from the press conference. There had to be a link.
Perry had told her about Luthor's plans for the Lex Harbour development, and Clark's suspicions about the coincidence of several serious fires in the West River area, right where Luthor would need to acquire real estate. The tip Lois had gone to investigate also involved activities in the West River area - the Metro Club in particular. West River was controlled by the Metro Gang, and the tip she was following was that there were some changes in leadership in the Metros, which could have an impact on the kind of activities they got involved in.
Including burning down half of West River? That had been Lois's thought when she'd heard what her source had to say. And that in itself would be an interesting story, although Lois had found herself tempted to pass it up - after all, her main priority had to be their Luthor investigation.
But then Luthor's name had come up in conversation. He'd been seen, her informant had observed, having drinks in the Metro Club with its joint owner a couple of times. Toni Taylor, Lois had been told - an attractive young woman who, it seemed, had just become the new boss of the Metro Gang.
So what was a supposedly-upright businessman like Lex Luthor doing drinking in a club in a very seedy part of town, a club known to be connected with criminal activities, and with a woman known to be a new crime boss?
And then, back at the Planet, her conversation with Perry had supplied the missing piece of the jigsaw. If Luthor wanted to build his harbour development, he was going to have to neutralise the Metro gang. The fires, also, were very much to his advantage, and yet her source had told her that the Metros were believed to be behind them - so was Luthor perhaps playing a crafty game? Working with the Metros to achieve his aim, and therefore controlling them?
She had to find out. This, after all, was potentially an even stronger lead to evidence that Luthor was not the upstanding citizen he pretended to be. She had a plan, and now all she needed was her partner to return so that she could put it into action - or rather, gain his agreement to what she had already put into action.
***********
"Lois, that's too dangerous! You're talking about going undercover in a club run by known gangsters, who are probably responsible for arson attacks in which people could have *died*! Not to mention the fact that no-one who knows the Metro gang believes they'd hesitate for one second to murder anyone who got in their way. You could get killed!"
"What, so you think I should just forget the story?" Lois demanded, giving him a belligerent stare. Clark groaned inwardly. Why did she have to be the one insisting on putting herself at risk? He was the invulnerable one, and she knew it! It could just as easily be him with the undercover job, and that way she'd be safe. But, no, there was no way that Lois would consider that.
"No, we don't forget the story," he told her, deliberately laying stress on the 'we'. "But why don't I go undercover instead? You have to know that would work better in so many ways."
Lois rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, Mr Invulnerable! Are you going to use that as an excuse any time I want to do something even remotely risky? Clark, I'm an investigative reporter! I don't just sit on my butt waiting for stories to come to me - and I'm sure as hell not going to cower back in the newsroom while my partner does all the exciting stuff!"
Clark blinked. This was a Lois he hadn't seen for weeks - but he supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. Everything he knew about Lois Lane told her that she was naturally argumentative and assertive. And, much though he hated to admit it, he could see her point of view. She loved doing what she did. He'd seen it about her from his very first day working with her: it was the thrill of the chase, the element of danger, the adrenalin she got from skating right on the edge of discovery and disaster - all that was what Lois loved most about being a reporter. She'd fight anyone who tried to take that away from her.
But the fact that it was him trying to take it away from her would make it even worse. He was her partner - and in terms of reporting and Planet experience, he was a junior partner. She'd had to fight tooth and nail to get to where she was - why should she sit back and calmly allow a relative newcomer to push her out of the exciting stuff? Even if she knew - because she had to know, didn't she? - that he would never try to push her out of the rewards.
And there were his powers. She'd been thrilled by what he could do ever since she'd encountered Superman, and on discovering that it was Clark Kent who possessed those powers she'd been even more delighted. But was she beginning to see a downside? This wasn't the first time they'd clashed over his desire to protect her and his insistence that it was far safer for him rather than her to do risky things.
He had a sudden horrible thought. Was he trying to control her?
But even if he wasn't, he acknowledged, refusing to answer that question, it was clear that because of his abilities she felt threatened. That he had an unfair advantage. That... He closed his eyes briefly. Was it possible that she wondered if he even needed her, given all he could do?
He'd been going to point out to her that he would be of far more use in the undercover role anyway, since with his powers he could overhear conversations and figure out what was going on with ease and without any dangerous sneaking around. But now he realised that he couldn't possibly say that to her, or she really would feel a useless part of their partnership. And yet nothing could be further from the truth.
She was still glaring at him. He gave her an apologetic shrug. "I'm sorry, Lois. I really don't want to stop you doing what you're great at. I just can't help worrying about you, that's all. You know I'd hate it if anything happened to you."
His explanation seemed to mollify her a little. "Clark, you know I've been looking after myself for years. Since long before you came along."
"I know. I still can't help it." He ran a hand abstractedly through his hair, then faced her again. "Lois, it's not just some stupid macho thing on my part. You have to know that I really do care about you. You're my best friend - you're the first person, other than my parents, to accept me just as I am. If anything happened to you, it'd tear me apart," he confessed quietly.
She stared at him. "Oh," she said at last, her anger entirely gone. An expression of wonder came over her face. "No-one's ever... ever said I meant that much to them before."
"You do, Lois, believe me," he assured her, and once more felt the urgent desire to round up her parents, and anyone else who had ever made her feel unloved and unwanted, and rip them asunder.
A shy smile greeted his assurance. "I... I'd hate to lose you too, Clark. I've never had a best friend before."
It would have been so right to end the exchange by pulling her into a hug. But he just didn't dare to. Ripping the sheets in his sleep the other night had made him even more terrified of hurting her - or hurting anyone - than he'd been before. Even if he knew that he was probably being paranoid.
So he just returned her smile instead. "Back to the Metros - I have a suggestion," he said.
"Yes?"
"Why don't we both go undercover? I could try to get a job working behind the bar - and even if that doesn’t work, I could still just hang out in the club. What's to stop me being a customer?"
"I guess," Lois said slowly. "But you won't try to get me out of the way at the first hint of danger?"
Clark gave her a crooked grin. "No. I promise that if someone pulls a gun on you I'll just stay right out of the way."
"Yeah, sure," Lois drawled. "Okay, if someone pulls a gun on me, you have my permission to save me, big guy!"
Clark inclined his head. "Thank you. Seriously," he added, "we can work this out, Lois. The last thing I want to do is get in your way - you're a brilliant investigator and I love working with you. And I couldn't do this without you anyway."
Her mouth twitched. "You don't need to try to make me feel good about myself, Clark. You should know that's not really a problem."
"You mean you don't like it when I compliment your work?" he teased. "Anyway, it's all true, you know that."
"Naturally," she retorted. "Okay. You go undercover too. And in the meantime, we need to see if Jimmy's got anything else for us - and work out what we say to Henderson later.
"Then let's get busy, partner."
**********
It was a busy few hours. Clark had to disappear twice to be Superman, but apart from that they combed through documents, records and other information looking for any trails which might lead them to Lex Luthor. Jimmy hadn’t been able to get hold of any financial information on Craig Allen, but Henderson wouldn’t have a problem accessing that - assuming he hadn’t already. All the same, it wasn’t going to be easy to pin anything on Luthor, Lois thought as they tidied up the piles of paper they’d been working with. He was clearly expert at covering his tracks; but then, they’d already been aware of that.
As they left the conference room, a portly man in a business suit, who looked vaguely familiar, collided with Lois. “Watch where you’re going!” she grunted.
He did a double-take. “What were you doing in there?” he demanded.
Lois rolled her eyes. “Watching blue movies. Working! What do you think?”
His expression darkened. “That conference room is not for reporters’ use whenever they see fit. Haven’t you read the new policy?” he snapped. “I intend to see Perry White about this!”
Ignoring Clark’s muttered, “Let it go, Lois,” she took a deep breath.
“You wouldn’t be the idiot behind this new policy, would you?” she demanded, arms akimbo. “Do you have the faintest idea how reporters work? Do you even have a clue how disruptive it is for us? How do you expect star reporters like Clark and me to do our jobs if you make us work under these conditions?”
The man looked her up and down, before turning away dismissively. “I should inform you that I am on the board of directors of this newspaper. And if this is how you speak to a representative of your employer, I might have to take steps to have your employment status reconsidered.”
“Yeah, right,” Lois drawled. “You’d consider firing a three-times Kerth winner. Sure. I take it you know who I am? And you know how much my byline is worth to the paper?” At his taken-aback expression, she added sardonically, “You know, if I wrote a story without doing some pretty thorough research, I’d expect to be criticised. Yet you directors will happily push through idiotic policies without even considering how they’ll impact on the people who work here - the people who earn the profits which pay your salaries. You should think about that next time you come up with some stupid idea.”
He glared at her, then brushed past her; Lois watched as he headed straight for the elevator. “Moron,” she said to Clark.
Clark sighed. “You know I agree with you. But was it really sensible to jerk his chain? He is a director, after all.”
“You think he’s going to insist on firing me?” Lois said incredulously. “Even if Perry would stand for it - which he won’t - I’d have to do something far worse than be rude to a director. Clark, I’m the only reporter in the city to have won three Kerths. They’re not going to fire me.”
“No, I guess not,” he agreed. “Come on, let’s go, or we’ll be late.”
Walking beside Clark, Lois was struck by a thought. They had come to the conclusion that the hot-desking policy had to be Luthor’s doing somehow, and that it was probably so that she’d accept his offer of an apartment where he could spy on her - but what if he had another agenda too? What if he’d hoped that she would quit as a result? With her out of the way, he might feel less threatened.
It was a possibility, one she would have to bear in mind, she decided; when she and Clark were alone again she’d mention it to him.
In the elevator, though, Clark raised something else. "You know, Lois, I've seen that guy somewhere before."
"Yeah?"
He nodded. "He's Wendell Dalton, isn't he? President of Dalton Electronics?"
Lois clapped her hand to her forehead. "I knew I recognised him from somewhere! A while back, Laker-Elektronic made a takeover bid for Dalton, and Wendell Dalton's picture was in the paper a few days running. I should have remembered."
"That's not where I've seen him," Clark said, his brows narrowing. "A couple of nights ago - I was flying home after an emergency, so I only saw them for a couple of seconds - he was coming out of an expensive restaurant with Lex Luthor and they were getting into Luthor's limo."
"Interesting," Lois murmured. "Could all be coincidental, of course, but that would explain how Luthor managed to get the hot-desking policy adopted."
Clark nodded. "Definitely."
The elevator slowed as they reached street level. "By the way," Clark said, “have you called the insurance company yet, Lois?”
Darn - that was something she’d intended to do first thing that morning, but the tip-off about the Metros had put it out of her mind. “I’ll do it when we get back from seeing Henderson.”
“I’ll remind you,” he promised, standing back to allow her to exit the elevator ahead of him. “You need to know if they’re going to pay out.”
“Yeah.” She pushed open the door to the street, glancing around for a cab; it just wasn’t worth taking the Jeep since parking was at a premium around the precinct where Henderson worked and she had no intention of being an easy mark for a traffic cop. “Taxi!” she yelled as a yellow vehicle came into sight.
She was climbing into the cab when she heard a roar and a screech of brakes, followed by a scream and the sound of crashing metal. She swung her head round sharply to see what had happened.
A motorcycle lay on its side on the sidewalk, its rider getting to his feet. And on the ground, tangled in the bike’s front wheel, was her partner.
“Clark!” Lois scrambled out of the cab again and ran to him, crouching down beside him. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
He gave her an almost imperceptible wink. “I’m fine, Lois.” And then she remembered: he was invulnerable. Of course he wasn’t hurt.
But if he hadn’t been invulnerable, he could have been badly hurt...
People were crowding round, staring and offering suggestions, most of which were completely useless. One man, pushing himself to the front of the bystanders, thrust a card in Lois’s face. “You should sue,” he announced. “I’m an attorney. I’ll represent you.”
Clark got to his feet and brushed himself down. “I’m fine,” he repeated, more loudly this time. “And I don’t want to sue.” He turned to the rider. “Are you okay? What happened? Did you lose control of the bike?”
For the first time, Lois looked at the motorcyclist. He was dressed entirely in black leather and his head, and most of his face, was covered by a plain black helmet, and the only visible part of his face was obscured by a tinted-plastic visor. She couldn’t even see if he was Caucasian or black. To her surprise, he didn’t respond to Clark’s enquiry. Instead, he hauled his bike upright and, before anyone could stop him, jumped onto it, kick-started it and rode off, making several people step back abruptly to avoid getting run down.
“What the - ? Come back here!” Lois yelled indignantly, waving at the disappearing rider. “Did you see that?” she demanded, turning back to Clark. “He just ran off! Without waiting for the cops - did anyone call 911?” she asked suddenly, directing the question at the bystanders.
The silence, and the speed at which most of the crowd began to leave, gave her the answer. Lois looked back at Clark, seeing from his expression that he was just as stunned by what had happened as she was.
“Leaving the scene of an accident... reckless as to the safety and well-being of an accident victim... avoiding reporting an accident... failing to provide insurance... You really should sue, sir,” the lawyer pointed out. “I got his licence number. I have a lot of experience in representing accident victims, and you wouldn’t have to pay a penny unless you win - and I win most of my cases - ”
“I don’t want to sue,” Clark repeated.
No; this needed to be reported to the police, Lois thought.
“Hey, lady! You want this cab or not?”
Clark clearly had no wish to wait around any longer. “Yes, we do,” he called firmly to the cabbie, and indicated for Lois to precede him into the taxi, leaving the lawyer standing on the sidewalk, still trying to thrust his card into someone’s hand.
In the taxi, once they'd given their destination, Clark voiced the thought uppermost in Lois’s mind. “Was that really an accident?”
"You're getting as suspicious as me!" she exclaimed. On the face of it, there was no reason at all to assume that the incident had been deliberate. A biker had simply lost control of his vehicle and mounted the sidewalk; in trying to avoid a collision, he'd turned the bike on its side and crashed, knocking Clark over in the process. At least, she assumed that was what had happened, since she hadn't actually seen it. And then he'd panicked, probably, and run off - though he'd at least waited until he'd seen that the guy he'd run down wasn't hurt.
But if he'd waited that long, then why not wait so that it could be reported to the police? Why not give his insurance details? If he'd been going to run from the scene of an accident, then why not run immediately?
And... right outside the Daily Planet, and the victim just happened to be Clark Kent, Lois Lane's partner, who had definitely got up Luthor's nose the previous day...
"He came straight at me," Clark said softly. "It wasn't as if he lost control and I just happened to be the one who got in the way. He was headed for me."
"It's Luthor," she murmured to Clark.
He nodded. "I know it'd sound far-fetched to anyone else, but I agree with you."
As a thought struck her, she leaned closer and murmured even more quietly, "No-one guessed anything, did they? I mean, because you weren't hurt?"
He shook his head. "I was very careful - I made sure that the bike was resting above me when I fell rather than directly on me. It'll be easy to explain if anyone asks."
If they were right, this was both good and bad - bad in the sense that Luthor had to be getting desperate to try to harm Clark, but good in the sense that he clearly saw them as a threat - which meant that they were right about him. Luthor didn’t even know what it was that they knew, or thought they knew, about him, and yet he was taking pretty direct action. He had to be worried.
And this was serious. If Clark hadn't been invulnerable, he could have been badly hurt.
The sooner they got proof of Luthor's true nature, the better.
*********
...tbc
