CHAPTER 13
Bright and early the next morning Lois Lane stood outside apartment 3D at 344 Clinton Street ringing the bell. Clark had been returning from an early morning patrol when he had heard the buzzer about a block away. Quickly entering his apartment he splashed some water on his hair and changed into a robe before answering the door.
“Geeze, Kent,” Lois said as she brushed past him, “I was wondering for a minute there if I should get the super to let me in to see if Deadshot had some buddies pay you a visit.”
“Uh, I was in the shower,” Clark said holding the door and staring somewhat dumbfounded after his partner as she proceeded through his apartment into his kitchen.
He quickly closed the door and hurried after her into the kitchen where he saw her begin going through his cabinets and refrigerator.
“Are you looking for something in particular, Lois?” he asked feeling a bit unsure of himself.
“Yeah, something to eat,” Lois said staring into the refrigerator for a moment before closing the door and opening the cabinets up again. She finally closed the cabinet door and turned back to Clark with a puzzled look on her face.
“Clark,” she began, “you don’t have a single piece of food in your entire kitchen. How is that possible?”
Clark opened his mouth to respond, but found himself suddenly at a loss to explain the situation. He had never really needed to eat as his body’s needs were fulfilled by solar energy, but had grown up in the habit of enjoying meals with his parents.
During college, after his parent’s deaths he had occasionally missed meals in favor of his Superboy duties, but he had still generally eaten on a fairly regular basis. He had always routinely skipped dinner more often than not in order to patrol Metropolis in the evenings and once he had begun working at the Planet he often used lunchtime to catch up on his work if he had been called away during the day. Some time ago just as he had done this morning he had started to occasionally skip breakfast in order to spend his mornings before work doing patrols in other parts of the world. At some point, he realized, he had simply stopped eating all together.
“I…” he began and then stopped to reorganize his thoughts and tried again, “I just cleaned everything out and haven’t had a chance to go shopping yet.”
“You cleaned everything out?” Lois repeated cocking her head slightly to one side. “You mean you threw everything out at the same time and didn’t leave anything at all for yourself to eat until you went shopping?”
“Well,” Clark said realizing how stupid that sounded even to him, “yeah. I just had some time on my hands and figured the kitchen needed cleaning.”
At her doubtful look he added, “And I was going shopping tonight anyway.”
“Okay,” Lois said nodding her head slowly as she stared at Clark trying to decide if he was serious. “You’re the bachelor. Whatever floats your boat I guess.”
“Well, um,” Clark stammered trying to cover his embarrassment, “why don’t you grab a seat in the living room and I’ll go put on some clothes.”
“Yeah, sure.” Lois responded as he turned and headed for the bedroom. “Take your time. I’ll even treat for breakfast on the way to work.”
As Clark disappeared into the bedroom Lois turned back to the kitchen and did a slow sweeping glance of the room. Stepping over to the trashcan she stepped on the pedal causing the lid to open revealing the completely empty bag within. She then stepped back over to the cabinets, which she again opened and ran a finger across the lower shelves. Looking at her finger she observed the film of dust it had removed.
She dusted her hands off and entered the living room and looked around. She had been in Clark’s apartment a few times over the years, but had never really given it a great deal of thought until now. Her glance passed over the shelves of books with the one shelf reserved for his journalism awards and onto a small table containing some photographs. The photos appeared to be mainly of his parents, but a few were of Clark at a younger age and what appeared to be some high school friends. There were none more recent of Clark than what appeared to be him at eighteen years of age.
Lois stopped for a moment to study the pictures. The were several of Clark’s parents alone in various scenes around a farm and one of the two of them in formal dress smiling into the camera while seated in what looked like a banquet hall. A “Happy Anniversary” banner could be seen in the background. One picture in particular caught her eye though. It was of Clark and his father and showed the elder Kent soaking wet holding up a large fish and smiling into the camera with a perhaps 12 or 13 year old Clark looking up at his father in admiration.
Lois couldn’t help but smile to herself while she imagined the story behind the picture. The Kents had obviously been a very happy family if these few pictures were any evidence. Putting it down she picked up another of a group of what appeared to be high school students gathered together on an athletic field. It took her a moment to locate Clark even though there were probably only ten or so people in the picture. As Lois had almost halfway suspected she would find he seemed to disappear into the crowd. Blending in like a chameleon on a piece of bark.
Since noticing that faucet of his personality she had looked through various group photos at the Planet in which Clark was a participant. One hundred percent of the time he could be found slightly to one side, but not quite on the edge of the crowd. Just enough to be encased by the crowd but enough on the edge so as to go unnoticed by a cursory glance.
The one exception to this and the only picture in sight that showed an adult Clark was a single photo that hung on the wall and was of Clark with four other men. Clark stood out clearly as the centerpiece of this little group. From the background it appeared to have been taken in the owner’s box at Metropolis Metros’ Stadium. Lois recognized it from having wheeled and dealed an invitation once two years ago to the World Series when it had been held there.
All five men appeared to be of the same age. To Clark’s far left was a slightly shorter, handsome, brown haired man with a devil may care smile on his face that spoke of a reckless disregard for common sense and an intense love of fun. The kind of man Lois knew only too well and now tried to avoid. He wore an Airforce flight jacket with the name “Jordan” across the right breast and he was displaying “bunny ears” behind the man on Clark’s near left whom he had his arm around in a comradely fashion.
That man was of about the same height and sported blond hair in a crew cut. The grin on his face spoke of mid-western charm much like Clark’s and Lois found herself instantly liking him. He wore a Kansas State warm-up jacket and Lois could make out a policeman’s badge clipped to his belt as he stood with one arm around the shoulders of the pilot beside him and was also displaying a set of “bunny ears” behind his head.
To Clark’s far right was a man who seemed to fade into the background much the way Clark usually did. He was as tall as Clark with brown hair and his smile even more guarded if that was possible than the one Clark usually sported. He also had a policeman’s badge clipped to his belt and he stood with his arms behind his back as if consciously avoiding physical contact with the others especially the man to his left and Clark’s immediate right.
That man drew Lois’ attention not because of his good looks, but because he was the one person in the picture besides Clark that she had instantly recognized. He was also the obvious reason all of them had access to the owner’s box at Metro Stadium. How on Earth did Clark know Bruce Wayne she asked herself. For that matter, Lois wondered what did two policemen, an airforce pilot, a billionaire, and a newspaper reporter all have in common?
Despite this question, the thing that stood out in the whole picture though was Clark. Not only was he the centerpiece, but the smile on his face was one she rarely got to see and one she had come to notice that he usually reserved just for her. It was wide, genuine, and spoke of complete happiness. He appeared more relaxed than she had ever seen him and was obviously laughing at some joke the five had shared.
She studied Clark’s face for a few more moments and then continued her survey of the room. She noted that the furniture appeared hardly used at all and could almost be mistaken for new yet she knew it was the exact same furniture that had been here on her previous visits. Looking around she couldn’t decide if the apartment seemed obsessively neat or simply unused. The cushions were perfectly in place on the couch and the coffee table was bereft of any decoration or reading material. The TV remote was sitting on top of the television and there was no TV Guide in sight. A small, folding tray leaned against the easy chair spoke of meals eaten in front of the TV despite the lack of corroborating evidence from the kitchen.
The only part of the room that didn’t resemble something out of a catalog besides the photographs and the awards was a desk in the corner with a computer and several file stacker trays. Crossing over to the computer she noted that it was on, but in sleep mode. The strangest thing she noticed though was the keyboard. Most of the letters were worn completely off of the keys.
Pursing her lips she returned to the center of the room and sat down on the couch. Glancing around the apartment again from her seated position she tried to make sense of her information, but no answer was quickly forthcoming. Something was strange in the land of Kent, but she had no idea what it was. She was just left with more questions than she had originally. Before she could ponder the matter further Clark reappeared dressed in khakis, dress shirt and tie carrying his sports coat.
“Now,” he said as he re-entered the room, “to what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning food raid?”
“I just figured we could eat and go over this list,” she replied pulling a folded sheet of computer printout from her purse.
“That the list of city contract winners?” Clark asked.
“Yep, Jimmy finally got it after you left last night and forwarded it on to me.”
Clark whistled as he read the names on the list.
“These are some heavy hitters. Does this cover the past two years?”
“Actually the past four years. I wanted to see if any names started suddenly appearing out of the blue over the past two years or if perhaps suddenly a particular company or companies started winning bids where others had been the front runners before.”
“Good thinking partner,” Clark said giving Lois an appreciative smile.
“I have my moments.”
“Since I’m assuming you’ve already studied the list have any patterns already jumped out at you?”
“Yes, they have,” Lois said standing up and taking Clark by the arm, “but I’m not talking until I get some food in my stomach. So decide now where you’re taking me.”
“Taking you?” Clark asked. “I thought you said you were paying?”
“To-May-to, ta-Mah-to, we’ll decide when we get there,” she responded pushing him toward the door.
One half hour later they were seated in a restaurant eating breakfast, discussing Lois’ theories regarding Intergang’s interference in city government.
“Well, discounting J&D Construction which handled the Municipal Stadium I spotted three companies that began making regular appearances on the list about two years ago. We have Linville Plumbing, Alda Paving and Concrete, and Morgan, Stevenson, and Co.”
“Morgan, Stevenson, and Co.? They’re an accounting firm. What contract did they get?”
“The City Council contracts with an outside firm to handle city finances. Miller and Stultz had the contract for years, but last year it came up for bid and Morgan, Stevenson, and Co. appeared out of no where to be the dark horse to win it.”
Clark pondered this for a minute before he spoke.
“It might also pay to check out those companies that have maintained their city contracts over the long term.” Clark said. “Didn’t you have a theory last year about Holland Sanitation being involved with the mob? Just because they’ve always had the contract doesn’t mean they didn’t get it through shady means before and now those shady means are just controlled by someone else.”
“Well, look at you,” Lois said grinning and teasing her partner, “get a little food in you and that brain starts working again.”
“Exactly when did it stop working Ms. Lane?” Clark asked teasing back.
“Well, if memory serves, someone at this table wanted to argue with me over sharing this story.”
“Well,” Clark said grinning even broader than before, “if memory serves, someone at this table explained to a rookie once that stories were not meant to be shared and that the term ‘byline’ was only used in the plural form when discussing more than one article.”
“Shut up and eat your second helping of sausage and eggs, Smallville. You’d think that someone with an appetite like that would keep food in their home.
Clark blushed sheepishly and bowed his head. When he had sat down he had been a bit ambivalent about ordering as it came home to him just how long it had been since he had actually tasted food. But when he had started ordering he had suddenly discovered an appetite he didn’t even know he had.
“I guess I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I actually had food in front of me,” he said with a smile.
“So,” Lois asked, “did you get any information on Deadshot from your informant?”
Clark paused for a moment and looked down briefly at the table before answering.
“He said he didn’t have any information on who hired him, but he’d look into it.”
“That all?” Lois asked.
“Yeah, why do you ask?” Clark asked with a perplexed look on his face.
“I don’t know,” Lois replied. “You just seemed to get a distant look on your face there for a moment when I asked you what you found out. Like something was bothering you.”
“Oh,” Clark replied looking down again and shaking his head, “it’s nothing important.”
“Well, obviously it’s important enough to distract you,” Lois said. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” Clark answered, “that’s ok. Seriously, it’s not really a big deal.”
“Clark, I’m being polite right now, but I’m not really sure what aspect of my personality that you’ve encountered so far that suggests to you that I’ll stop badgering you anytime soon.”
Clark laughed out loud at that and then seemed to give the matter some thought.
“Ok, but like I said it’s not really a big deal.”
“So give already. What else did your informant have to say?”
“Well, we got into a bit of a philosophical debate…”
“Hold up,” Lois said interrupting. “You got into a philosophical debate with an informant?”
“Well, he’s actually more of a friend than an informant,” Clark replied.
“You have friends that keep track of the hirings and firings of contract killers? Exactly what kind of people do you spend your off hours with?”
“It’s not like it sounds. He’s sort of in law enforcement.”
“Sort of? How can you sort of be in law enforcement?”
“Am I telling this story or are you?”
“Well, I’m just saying…”
“Lois.”
“Sorry, I just didn’t know how…”
“Lois,” Clark said again more forcefully with an exaggerated look of irritation on his face.
Lois pantomimed zipping her lips and clasped both hands in front of her like an obedient school child.
“As I was saying,” Clark began again, “we got into a bit of a philosophical discussion about humanity in general. My friend is of the opinion that people are inherently untrustworthy and that rather than be inspired though the example of others they would instead give into distrust and fear and prefer to tear them down.”
“Your friend sounds like the world’s biggest pessimist.”
“I think that way at times myself, but other times I think he might be the world’s biggest optimist.”
“I’d like to know what times those would be,” Lois replied.
“It’s just that he’s seen a lot of really bad things in his life from childhood on and yet he still keeps going out there and doing his job. I guess I just can’t really believe that anyone who believes the way he claims to would keep doing that.”
“But something that he said obviously bothered you.”
“He used Superman as an example and stated that he felt that people saw Superman as an outsider and would never accept him”
“And this bothered you why?”
“I just remember a story that Superman once told me. He said that shortly after he went public he was invited to a dinner at the White House. Several of the world’s leaders were going to be there which was one of the reasons he accepted because he wanted to let them all to know that he wanted to help everyone not just those with a particular political view. As he suspected several of the leaders present quizzed him initially about whether or not he was just going to protect American interests. What he didn’t expect though was the American President’s quizzing him about his alien origins. And even more unexpected was the others joining in. He said that it quickly became obvious that he wasn’t being suspected of holding one nation’s people above another’s, but rather holding to some unknown agenda that endangered everyone.”
“What did he do?”
“He said that at first he didn’t know how to react or what to say. He just sat there and stared at them. Then apparently the silence drew a little long and suddenly he noticed a couple of them get a bit wide eyed and started trying to apologize profusely. He said they seemed to be almost in a panic as they tried to placate him. That’s when he realized that they were all terrified of him.”
“Terrified of a 13 year old boy?” Lois asked in amazement.
“No,” Clark said quietly, “of an alien from another planet with the power to rip a human being to pieces with his bare hands or vaporize them with a mere glance.”
“But, he’d never do that,” Lois said.
“Of course not, but they didn’t know that. All they had were their fears.”
“So, what did he do?”
“He said that he tried to allay everyone’s suspicions and fears and the entire matter seemed to be laughed off, but the rest of the dinner was strained. He said that people kept casting sideways glances at him as they ate and quickly averted their eyes if they saw that he had caught them looking. He said that he had never truly felt like an alien on this planet until then.”
“Must have been hard to take for someone his age,” Lois said.
“Hard enough,” Clark answered almost to himself, “but he said he shrugged it off after he consulted some people he trusted and got a better perspective on things. Looking back on that story now, though, I have to wonder if maybe my friend might be somewhat right about people.”
After a brief pause he continued.
“So, long story left well…long,” Clark said with a grin, “I think that’s what’s been bothering me.”
“Because you can relate to that sense of aloneness?” Lois asked.
Almost unconsciously Clark lost the smile on his face.
“Me? No, of course not.” After a moment he added, “You know, that’s the second time in the past few days someone’s referenced my ‘aloneness’. What is it with people? Does everyone think I’m a hermit? I do have friends you know.”
“Well, it just seems like you keep people at arm’s length, Clark,” Lois said. “And as for friends, I don’t know, Clark, so far I’ve noted a strange pattern. I mean someone who ‘sort of’ is in law enforcement?”
“Well, that’s a bit hard to explain,” Clark said reaching for his coffee to buy some time as his enhanced synapses searched for an explanation.
“Bruce Wayne,” Lois said suddenly.
It took every measure of control Clark possessed not to spit the coffee in his mouth all over his breakfast companion when he heard that name. After a moment he made an extra effort to swallow and then slowly responded.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked almost fearfully.
If Lois had noticed the effect her speaking the name of the Gotham billionaire had upon Clark she gave no sign.
“I saw a picture of the two of you together in your apartment. How do you know him?”
“Uh, well, he came to Smallville once when we were teenagers and I met him there. We got along pretty good at the time and when I was in Gotham later on after college I called him up. We get together ever now and then, but it doesn’t happen often. He’s a busy man and you know the kind of schedule a reporter keeps.”
“True,” Lois replied. “I was just wondering. I saw this picture in your apartment and…”
Lois was interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone. Realizing it was his Clark pulled it out of his pocket and answered it.
“Hello.”
“Kent?” the voice on the other end asked sounding a bit panicked.
“Yes, this is Clark Kent. Who is this?”
“It’s Robert Maxwell. I need help fast. They’ve found me.”
TBC…
