Pt 17
Pt 17
The yellow dot on the monitor shot across the screen. Willoughby started the car and followed the light down the road. Traffic had increased and he had to wait while a cab stopped in front of him to let a woman out.
Swerving dangerously, Fred passed the cab and wove in and out of the cars ahead of him. Deborah held on and complained loudly as she practically knocked her head on the window. “Watch what you’re doing would ya! Ya trying to get me killed?”
“Jest keep watching the screen and let me know when we’ve caught up with him.”
The dot moved again, turning the corner and heading toward the docks. Then it slowed down and moved slowly. It took a few minutes to battle traffic before Fred pulled the car to a stop. “He’s in there.”
They verified the address before radioing in their plans. “We’ve got a location on him, 49 Yachtview Street. We’re going in.”
They gathered their tape recorder and camera equipment before heading down the road. The line of businesses hid the row of yachts docked out behind. Number 49 was a fancy restaurant. Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to catch a meal at the same time, at least to look inconspicuous.
The waiter seated the duo at a table in the corner, overlooking the quiet water and all the large boats docked along the boardwalk. Deborah opened the laptop and zoomed in on the yellow dot. Superman was somewhere in the restaurant, that was for sure. And by the looks of it, he was right over there. She turned and eyed the man sitting in the booth across from them. She pulled out her camera. She set it up so it wouldn’t need a flash, and hid it partially behind the menu. She’d snapped a few shots of the man with the dark hair wearing a business suit, before the waitress came along. Quickly she dropped the camera to her lap and pretended to read the menu.
“We’ll just have a hamburger each,” Fred volunteered, before Deborah had decided what she wanted. She glared at him and closed her menu with a snap.
The couple across the aisle shifted and the man got up and headed into the men’s room. Fred grabbed the camera and headed in the same direction after him. It was a rather tricky situation to imagine taking a photo of someone while they were in the men’s room.
The man stood facing the wall when Fred came in. He sized him up, noticing a hole in the back of his pants. Was that a shiny disk? He peered at it more closely. Had the tracker become imbedded in the man’s wallet?
The man straightend up abruptly and turned to head toward the row of sinks. Fred backed up and tried to look innocent. It didn’t work.
“What do you think you’re doing? Are you queer or something?” With that, the man who was obviously not Clark Kent or superman hauled his arm back and let his fist fly into the face of the peeping Tom, knocking him off balance. As his head hit the tile floor, he wondered if maybe he was in the wrong line of work.
Deborah moved uncomfortably in her seat as she watched the man come back into view. She didn’t have her camera. But she had her tape recorder. He slid into the seat across from his date, taking her hand and whispering low.
Deborah got up and walked over to the booth beside them and slid into the empty seat behind the man. She held the tape recorder up by her shoulder to be close to the man’s voice.
She’d gotten some pretty juicy romantic mileage out of the tape recorder by the time Fred returned to his seat and started looking around for her. He saw her and waved to her, shaking his head, motioning to her that they needed to leave the restaurant.
She didn’t understand what was going on, but she got up, retrieving her things from the first booth and pushed the exit door open, catching up to him as he headed to the car.
“What was that all about, I was getting it all on tape.”
“Well, he’s the wrong guy.”
“What?”
“The tracker is imbedded in his wallet. Superman must have found it and thrown it away. That’s not our man. He’s just lucky Superman hit the wallet. He must have thrown it at some speed to have it go through the guy’s suit and that deeply into a leather wallet!”
“What do we do now?”
“We radio the boss and we wait for him to tell us what to do.”
The boss wasn’t pleased. “We’ll tag him again, as soon as we get another tracker ready. I’ll let you know when and where. In the mean time, bug Lane’s apartment and see if you can set up surveillance somewhere across across the road. And get me some photos over here, stat.”
“Got it, Boss.”
The surveillance equipment was aimed at Lois’s living room window. The bugs in
the apartment were working well. Several people sat watching the window with
binoculars, listening to the voices being transmitted into the apartment where
they sat.
It hadn’t taken too much to empty the apartment of its residents, an all
expense paid trip to Disney world had done it. They were now assured of a
week’s worth of time alone in the apartment.
It was now quite obvious that Clark Kent was indeed Superman. They’d watched
and filmed when he’d landed with Lois in his arms last night. Now they could
see Clark moving about in the kitchen. He’d just shot out the window and
returned holding a small brown bag. The spin was on film too. A round of
cheers had filled the room as they’d watched him through binoculars. They’d
slapped their palms together in high-fives.
“We’ve got him now!” Willoughby radioed his superior, hardly able to contain
his excitement. Congratulations were the order of the day.
Lex Luther sat in the small room alone with his visitor, the guard just
outside. “We’ve got him, sir. Clark Kent is Superman.”
Lex smiled evilly. “You’ve done well, Nigel. But of course, you have. I never
doubted you in the least. You’ve always done the impossible.”
“Thank you, sir. Shall we put the plan into motion now?”
“Yes, Nigel. That will be perfect. So have you located any more of the…
element?”
Nigel nodded formally. “Yes sir, we’ve found a source. Shall we arrange for an
exchange?”
“That will be fine, Nigel.”
Nigel St. John stood and headed over to the door where he knocked and waited
to be let out of the windowless enclosure. Lex Luther watched as his butler
left the room. Ah, good help was so hard to find, but Nigel was a good friend
as well as a good employee.
Mrs. Cox sat in her cell, the hard mattress had kept her from sleeping well
again. She hated being in here. But her plan was going to work. She’d decided
to turn states evidence against Luther. He meant nothing to her. He was just
the man of the day, a comrade in an enjoyable life of greed, extortion, murder
and plans.
She stood up and looked out the through the bars. Metropolis had the worst
jails she’d ever stayed in. She could hear the rattling of keys as the guard
walked down the hallway to her cell, home away from home as she liked to think
of it. That is when she wasn’t cursing under her breath at Luther for getting
her caught.
The guard stopped at her door. He was overweight and sour mouthed. She’d have
liked to toss a quick kick at his face and dash off beyond him. But she knew
all too well from experience that there was a whole series of guarded, locked
doors between here and freedom. It hadn’t gone too well when she’d tried that
the other day.
“Give me your hand,” he stated unemotionally. She thrust her hand out through
the bars at her. He put a handcuff on it. Turn around. She turned around
obediently and he reached through the bars and linked her other hand to it.
That didn’t do much about her feet, or limit the possibilities of a well aimed
knee. But this time she wasn’t interested in escaping and a life of running.
No, she had a better way. She knew enough about Lex to saddle him with all the
murders she’d ever committed.
The cell door opened and the guard followed behind her as she walked down the
hallway. He showed her into the small room where Inspector Henderson’s men
would interview her. Interrogate her. Disgusted, she sat down. She had it all
planned out. Lex would burn.
Henderson hung up his phone with a smile, turned to his assistant and stated,
get me the DA on the line.
“Mason Drake, here.”
“Henderson. It looks like we’ve got Luther by the tail now. Cox has turned
states evidence. I'm faxing the information over to you now.”
Mason Drake shook her curly blonde hair and smiled, “Great. I’ll have a look
at it and get back to you.”
“Okay. Thanks Mason. Bye.”
Mason stood up and walked over to the fax machine to wait as it beeped and
began to grind out the copy. She picked it up and leaned against the side of
her desk, reading it over. This was what she’d been waiting for. She picked up
her phone and dialed.
“Charge Luther with murder one.”
Lois and Clark ate contentedly. Lois liked the pastries he’d brought her from
his favorite shop abroad. They went well with the bacon and eggs actually.
She’d dressed in a sharp beige business suit. Her hair was falling into place
with every swing of her head. Her lipstick accentuated the china doll lines of
her flawless face.
She replaced her napkin on the table and stood up. The waiter removed her
plate and his, washed them and put them away, returning the table to its
former tidy state, then came to stand beside her. Reaching his elbow out to
her he asked, “Ready to go?”
They’d already discussed the wisdom of her returning to work today. She was
insistent. Of course, he knew she would be. He’d resolved to keep a close
watch on her. Ralph should be headed to the conference today so she’d not
likely have to see him this morning. She took his arm as she picked up her
satchel with the other hand.
He reached to open the door but she stopped him, “What, no kiss?” her smile
dazzled him again. Why did it always give him weak knees when she looked at
him that way? He drew her into his arms, but she was the one who led the
moment of passion. He pulled back grinning at her.
“Your lipstick is smeared,” he said, pulling a clean handkerchief out of his
pants pocket and dabbing at her lips. She leaned her head back seductively to
let him perform the needed repairs.
“Thanks, Clark.” She squeezed his arm and they turned back to the door.
The newsroom was still quiet when they arrived. The hum of LNN on the far wall
caught Clark’s eye as they walked towards their desks. Lois looked over at him
as she felt his body stiffen. He glanced at her in explanation. “When I shut
down my hearing to be with you, I really must have shut it down.”
The announcer was describing the latest in a series of tragedies that had
happened throughout the night. A multi-car pileup, a suicide jumper from the
bridge, an explosion at an empty warehouse and a bank robbery. Clark sighed.
He couldn’t spend his whole life feeling guilty. He may have superpowers, but
he wasn’t the only person on the planet that helped people in distress. He was
just the fastest. And the strongest. And the one with the best hearing. And
the one who could blow out fires with his ice breath and light them with his
eyes. He pulled his thoughts away from their unproductive course and squeezed
Lois’ hand as she squeezed his own.
“Did you hear those things happening last night?”
He nodded. But there were no screams. I made the decision to only respond to
screams last night.
“Oh.” She said, looking at him uncertainly. “Why?”
He pursed his lips. “Lois, I had to make a choice. I felt you needed me. I
can’t be strung out across the whole planet all the time, it’s just taking too
much of a toll on me.”
She frowned. “Clark? Are you okay? That doesn’t sound like the man in the cape
I know.”
“It doesn’t? Does that mean you remember? Us, I mean? You and Kal?”
She paused and thought for a moment. “No. But Superman is always there, as
long as there’s not been any kry…anything keeping him away.” Her nightmares
came to mind again. She squeezed his hand again and they continued to head on
over to their desks. They met again at the coffee stand. Clark had already
retrieved their mugs from their desks and was filling them with the usual hot
mixture.
A box of donuts looked untouched. Clark helped himself to a calorie laden one
while Lois looked at the chocolate covered ones that remained in the box. She
sighed and turned her gaze away from them. Something was different here. She
couldn’t quite put her finger on it. The plant on her desk? Yes, that was it,
she’d had a different one than that.
“So what are we working on today, Clark?” she looked over at Perry’s office.
The door was still closed. The elevator doors opened and several reporters and
Perry stepped out.
“Good morning, kids. How’s everything today?” he paused beside them on his way
to his office.
“Not bad, Chief.”
“Is that it, not bad, Clark?”
He shrugged discretely. What could he say, he’d let all sorts of disasters
proceed without his help. Lois was still bereft of some of her memory, someone
was on to his identity, and someone else was trying to make life hell in the
tabloids for them. Not the sort of day that makes you want to smile. He turned
to look at Lois, who was watching his face. But he did have Lois. He smiled.
He took her hand, the one with the ring on it, and lifted it for Perry to see.
Smiling he pulled Lois close to him. “We’re engaged, Perry! It’s quite a good
day actually!”
“Well I’ll be! You two must be just as happy as if you’d died and gone up to
Elvis!”
“Happier, actually.” Lois said, reaching over to plant a kiss on Clark’s cheek.
“You ready to announce it to the world?”
To their nod, Perry smiled. “Good. Lois, how are you feeling today, Hun?”
“I'm fine Perry. Clark says I’ve lost some of my memory, but if I know my
life, I don’t suppose losing a bit of memories is all that bad!” she
grinned. “You know, jaws of death, that sort of stuff,” she added after his
expression didn’t seem to register what she’d just meant.
He nodded, “Oh, right, that sort of stuff.”
They each headed to their respective desks. It was only 7:00 am, but any last
minute stories had to be out soon to make the afternoon edition. Lois booted
up her computer and turned in her chair, mug in her hands, to look at Clark.
He was leaning over his desk, sorting through papers while he waited for his
computer to beep its readiness for him to use it. His phone rang as he was
reading something that had caught his eye.
“Clark Kent.”
“Clark, it’s Bill Henderson. We’ve charged Luther with Murder one.”
Clark let out a slow whistle. “What have you got for me?”
“I’ll fax the printable details over to you. But off the record, Cox has
turned state’s evidence.”
Clark nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Thanks Bill.”
“No problem. Oh, and Clark, we’ve got a B&E using the apartment across from
Lois’s for surveillance. We picked up videos and tapes this morning. I thought
maybe she’d want to have a look at them before we decide what to use for
evidence.”
“Okay, Bill, I’ll let her know. Thanks. Any idea what they were after?”
“I’ve got my suspicions, but nothing concrete yet. We’ve brought them in for
questioning this morning. We got a tip from a friend of the occupants who had
heard movement in there.”
“Okay, Thanks Bill. We’ll be down later if that’s okay?”
“Sure. Anytime. These tapes aren’t going anywhere.”
Clark hung up the phone, wondering just what had been recorded on those tapes.
It probably was exactly the sort of stuff that could expose him. Maybe this
should be first priority.
Lois was beside his desk when he hung up. “What was that all about?”
“Two things. The first is about the investigation about Lex. Can you handle
that one?”
“Maybe not. What’s the next one?”
“Someone was watching us in your apartment. They may have me spinning on tape,
plus who knows what we talked about. Bill’s got the tapes and says you can
come down and go through them to remove anything you don’t want being listened
to. He’s a good guy, you know?”
“Who, Henderson?”
He nodded. She snorted. “I guess, maybe just this once.”
He smiled. “That’s my Lois Lane. Always oozing with warmth and gratitude!”
“Where’s my pillow!” She punched him in the chest playfully. He feigned pain
and instability and stumbled to his chair. “In your dreams Clark Kent!”
“No, Lois, there are far more interesting things in my dreams.” He smiled
conspiratorially at her.
She smiled, “I bet there are, Kent. I bet there are!” then lowering her head
to his ear she whispered, “We can get married today if you want!”
He smiled back at her, those tingly feelings sweeping through him again. He
turned and caught her mouth beside his ear in a quick kiss. “Don’t you be
tempting me, Lois Lane, don’t you be tempting me. You may find yourself
standing in the Chapel of Love in Las Vegas in five minutes if you’re not
careful.”
“Promises, promises! Empty words.” Then in a stroke of genious, she added, “I
dare you, Clark Kent. I dare you to take me away, right this minute,
abandoning everything here, and marry me in the Chapel of Love!”
“Wishful thinking, Lois. Wishful thinking.” Then more quietly with his lips to
her ear he added, “Superman doesn’t do dares! Better luck next time!”
She dropped into his lap and threw her arms around his neck.
“Excuse me kids, but could I have a word with you both? Actually, Clark first.”
