Table of Contents
From Part 5:“If he was desperate enough to try to kill you once he realised you knew the truth about him - and desperate enough to want to marry you when he realised that you just
might know something he doesn’t want you to know,” Clark observed, trying to keep his voice calm and not allow Lois to see the emotion he was feeling - fury at her husband’s actions, and at the same time desperate sympathy for her - “then I’d say yes, he was desperate enough to blow the Planet up to force you into where he wanted you.”
Lois rolled her eyes. “Just as if I was some object that he coveted. A rare work of art, a sculpture - ”
She broke off abruptly and her eyes widened. And Clark could hear her heart begin to beat more quickly. “That’s it!” she exclaimed excitedly.
“What?”
“What I saw! What he was afraid I’d remember!”
***********
Now read on...Was that really it? Had she got it, at last?
Lois stared at Clark, almost afraid to hope. He was looking back at her, impatience and eagerness in his expression. “What is it?”
“Art!” She got to her feet, flinging aside the pen and paper, her anger and self-pity forgotten for the time being.
“Lex is an art connoisseur. Every one of his homes - and his offices - is full of art - Old Masters, expensive paintings by newer artists, sculptures, you name it. Anyway, one day I was with him in his office - he’d invited me to his penthouse for lunch and I arrived early. While I was there, the elevator opened and I looked around - it’s a private elevator, so it’s quite rare that anyone other than Lex or his personal assistant would use it, unless he had a visitor. So I was curious to see who was there. And I saw a guy in workman’s overalls holding a painting. That didn’t surprise me - I mean, like I said, Lex loves art. So I assumed it was a new purchase.”
“And it wasn’t?”
“Well, the thing is, Lex seemed to be pretty irritated. He waved the guy away and said ‘Not now! Take it downstairs’. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but Lex definitely seemed unsettled after that. So I wonder now if that’s what I saw.”
“But I don’t see how that...” Clark began slowly.
“Well, I never saw the painting again after that,” Lois explained. “And I know how Lex gets when he buys something new. He has to show it off. I mean, he bought a Picasso in an auction back in February and he insisted on showing it to me the very next time I was at his place. And he kept talking about how delighted he was to have it. But this painting... he never mentioned it.”
“That does sound odd,” Clark agreed. “What was the painting like?”
“An Old Master, definitely. Actually - not that I know very much about art - it looked a bit like a Rubens. And Lex definitely would’ve wanted to show that off.”
“Describe it,” Clark said instantly.
Lois closed her eyes and thought for a moment. “Okay. It was kind of violent. There was a man and a woman, dressed in kind of Roman clothes. He was holding a spear - pointing it at her. And she had her arms up, as if she was trying to fend him off.”
Clark frowned. “I wonder...” Abruptly, he got to his feet, then said, “Will you be okay if I leave you for a few minutes?”
“Sure! But where...?”
“I’ll be back soon.” And with that he was gone; she heard a faint booming sound and then there was silence.
In his absence, Lois tried to work out why that painting would have worried Lex so much that he’d decided that he needed to neutralise her. Clearly, he hadn’t wanted her to know of its existence. He hadn’t hung it anywhere she could see it; he hadn’t ever drawn her attention to it.
It had to be stolen. That was the only possible explanation.
There was a whoosh, and Clark was back. He strode into the living-room, carrying a large hardback book, holding it open. “Is this the painting you saw?”
She looked. It was.
“It’s definitely a Rubens. Tarquin and Lucretia,” he told her. “It dates from the early seventeenth century. You know a lot of priceless art was stolen during the second world war?”
Lois nodded.
“Well, that particular Rubens went missing from its German gallery at the end of the war, and has never been seen since.”
“So Lex got hold of it somehow. And he freaked out when I saw it because it’s stolen,” she concluded. “That’s what I thought. But why would he think I’d recognise it?”
Clark shrugged. “It’s a very famous painting - and even more famous because it’s been missing so long.”
“I wish I knew where Lex was hiding it. Then we could at least get him arrested for that. It’s not enough, but it would be a start...”
“...and it would get him off our backs for the time being,” Clark finished, echoing Lois’s thoughts. It occurred to her briefly to wonder if reading minds was also one of his special skills. But she decided not; after all, he’d been amazed to hear that she’d fallen in love with him too this week.
“I can take a look,” he offered then. “Is there anywhere likely you think he might use to hide something like that?”
Lois shrugged, frowning. “It could be anywhere. Even in that hideaway in Colorado.”
“Let me take a look.” Clark sounded decisive. “Tell me every building he owns in Metropolis. I’ll start there.”
*********
Stolen artwork? Could that really be what Luthor had been so afraid of becoming public knowledge that he’d been prepared to kill for it?
In seconds, he was flying over Lex Towers, where Luthor had his penthouse. Lois had told him as much as she could about the layout of the building, including the fact that there was a large basement underneath which, as far as she knew, was used only for storage. She’d never been down there, which was why he thought it was definitely worth checking out.
The first thing he noticed was that the elevator shaft from Luthor’s private office went all the way down to the basement. Which definitely made him suspicious. Why would Luthor need private access to a storage area? Slowly, he scanned the area underground... and what he saw made him turn around immediately and fly directly back to his apartment.
“You were right!” he exclaimed as he strode back into the living-area.
Lois’s head shot up; she was sitting on the sofa and had been bent over her pad, apparently deep in thought. “What? You only just left!”
“I’m quick,” he said with a grin.
“You sure are! If we ever do get to work together professionally, no-one else will ever be able to keep up with us.” She looked pleased at that thought.
If they ever got to work together... That sounded like his idea of heaven. If the last hour or so was anything to go by, he just knew that he’d love working with Lois. She was amazing - even when what they were working on was something which affected her personally, which clearly upset and frightened her, she was intelligent, acute and very incisive. And it had felt to him as if they were very much in tune with each other. They bounced ideas off each other, finished each other’s thoughts some of the time and complemented each other so well.
He wasn’t entirely sure how ethical it would be to use his abilities to help with his career, but that was something they could discuss another time. Right now, his abilities were
very useful indeed...
“Anyway, you were saying...?” Lois prompted.
“Yeah. You were right! There’s a treasure trove down there - and it’s all stolen or missing works of art. It’s unbelievable - stuff experts thought was gone for good. I mean, I recognised a Renoir and a Pisarro. And I could swear that he has the arms of the Venus de Milo down there! There’s a sculpture of Gutenberg which I’m positive was stolen in LA a few years ago. And I’m sure I recognised that Vermeer a museum in Boston reported stolen in 1990...”
“Clark!” Lois exclaimed. “I can hardly keep up with you... And you were only gone a couple of minutes! How could you recognise all that stuff so quickly? And how do you know so much about art, anyway?”
He felt himself blush a little. “Photographic memory,” he explained. “I remembered seeing photographs of a lot of that stuff. And, like I said, I’m fast.”
“Well, good!” she said, looking happier than he’d seen her for a couple of days. “Thanks to you, we’ve got something to nail him on.”
“Yeah.” He smiled, happy too. “Well, if we can do anything with this. I mean, we can’t exactly go to the cops and say that I X-rayed the building, can we?”
“No, but I know what we can do...” she said thoughtfully. “Do you trust me, Clark?”
He didn’t even have to think about it. “Of course I do.”
“Then I know exactly how we proceed.”
********
Lois picked up the phone and dialled a number she knew well. A direct line. Now, she just hoped that the person she wanted to speak to was there to answer it in person.
“Yes?”
Oh, she knew that voice very well. Just as dry and impatient as always.
Bill Henderson. The most incorruptible cop she’d ever known.
“Guess who?” she said lightly.
“Well, well. I hate to admit it, Lane, but I’m relieved to know that the rumours of your death were exaggerated.”
“Thanks, Henderson,” she drawled sardonically. “Nice to talk to you too.”
“So how come you’re not at the bottom of a Great Lake after all?”
She gave him the story she and Clark had agreed on. “Dumb luck, I guess. The current must’ve washed me up onto a beach a little way down the coast.”
“Yeah, you got lucky.” His tone was sober for a moment. “Anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure? I’m sure you weren’t calling just to let me know that you’re still around to be the bane of my life.”
“I see you haven’t lost any of that killer charm.” A dry laugh sounded in her ear. “I have a tip-off for you...”
Henderson listened as she explained. She was waiting for just one question from him, though, and he didn’t disappoint her.
“So, how come you’re turning snitch on your dearly beloved?” he enquired, the sarcasm audible.
“Does that matter?” she retorted. “Let’s say I just found out about it and wanted to do my duty as a law-abiding citizen.”
“Yeah, right,” Bill scoffed. “Okay, I’ll look into it.” There was a click, and the line went dead.
“Who was that?” Clark asked from behind her.
“An old sparring partner of mine. Inspector Bill Henderson, MPD. He’s a pain in the butt, but straight as a die. He’s the only cop I know I’d trust with this.”
“If you trust him, that’s good enough for me.” He smiled. “Okay, how do we make progress on the explosion investigation? You know more about it than I do.”
“I guess we need to start by talking to the advertisers,” Lois said thoughtfully, returning to where she’d dropped her notepad. “See whether they’re willing to tell us anything.”
“You think that’s likely?” His tone suggested that he didn’t.
Lois sighed. “Probably not.” This was getting discouraging. She had no idea how they were going to get anyone to talk - especially not to her. Lex Luthor’s wife. Even if she weren’t in hiding, that was a non-starter.
Letting her notepad fall back to the sofa, she turned to look at Clark. He was watching her, his expression holding concern and a glimpse of the same
something she’d noticed the last couple of days they’d talked on the beach. And she now knew what it was.
Caring. Love.
Her breath caught. And she took a hesitant step towards him.
He moved towards her, but then halted. “Lois...”
She knew what he was thinking. “Clark... I just need a hug. Is that too much to ask? I know how you feel about me being married still...”
In an instant, he was beside her. “A hug is never too much to ask.” And he enfolded her in his arms, his chin resting on top of her head as he cradled her against him.
“We’ll get through this,” he promised her. “We’ll find out the truth about everything - including the explosion. Even if we can’t go the obvious routes.”
“Yeah,” she murmured into his chest. Even his hug felt wonderful. He made her feel protected, loved and
alive, all at once. And, even though she longed to know his kiss, somehow for now just being in his embrace was enough.
And then their next step came to her. She pulled back, looking up at him excitedly. “And I think I know where we should start!”
“Where?” His eyes smiled down at her, sharing her excitement.
“Another phone call. Or, better still, if you don’t mind, a personal visit.”
Clark shrugged, releasing her at the same time. “As long as there’s no risk anyone will tell Luthor you’re here, I don’t mind. Where do you want to go?”
“Upstate?”
“If you want... but why?”
“Because that’s where Perry White is. And I think he’s the person we need right now.”
*********
Clark had never met Perry White, though he knew the man by reputation as a tough and shrewd editor. What he hadn’t known, and realised as soon as he saw White greet Lois, was that the man also cared fiercely about the people who’d once worked under his editorship. When White opened the door of the lakeside house Lois had explained that he’d bought for his retirement and saw who was there, Clark could have sworn that he saw tears come to his eyes.
“Lois! Aw, honey! After yesterday’s paper, I never though I’d see you again!”
“It was a close call, Perry.” Lois’s own voice was thick, and Clark realised for the first time how close she’d been to her editor.
He stood back as she was swept into a hug. Then, as Lois released White, she said, “Perry, this is Clark Kent. He’s a reporter too - we’re working together. And we need your help.”
“Ah... pleased to meet you, Kent.” A hand was extended for Clark to shake. “Come on in, you two. And, Lois, I want an explanation for why you’re not floating face-down in that lake. Unless you were never there in the first place? Not that that would surprise me...”
White led the way inside the house and into a comfortable living-room. “Alice is out at the moment,” he added; Clark assumed that he was referring to his wife. “So we have the place to ourselves. Lois?”
Clark chose to remain silent as Lois gave the brief, sanitised explanation of how she’d survived her near-encounter with drowning. White gave him a look of gratitude and admiration once Lois explained that he’d saved her; he had the impression that he’d suddenly climbed several notches in the retired editor’s estimation.
“So, what did you two need my help with?” White asked eventually. “I thought you’d given up the journalism business, Lois.”
“I had,” she said. “Of course, I never should have. That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done - and I’ve done a lot of stupid things in the last few months. Perry, what I didn’t tell you just now is that the reason I was in the lake in the first place is that Lex tried to kill me.”
White’s expression changed rapidly; the genial, shrewd look was gone, replaced by absolute fury. But, Clark noticed, little surprise. “So he finally showed his true colours. I wondered when that would happen,” White said bitingly.
Clark winced inwardly at that. He’d seen yesterday how humiliated and angry with herself Lois felt at not having seen through her husband. She’d hate knowing that her former editor, and a man who was clearly her mentor, had guessed.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye; as he’d expected, her heart-rate speeded up and he could see her chew her lip momentarily. She flushed. “You knew he wasn’t what he seemed?”
Oh, Lois... He ached to hold her, to take her in her arms and tell her that it didn’t matter. Of course, he knew that she wouldn’t believe him; to her, it mattered enormously that she hadn’t been able to see through Luthor. But, as he’d tell her as soon as he got the opportunity, she hadn’t had the benefit of detachment, as Inspector Henderson and Perry White had. She’d had the full force of Luthor’s charm exerted on her right from the start. He’d seen that as soon as she’d told him the story of her relationship with the man. In the circumstances, it would’ve been very hard to see through the facade.
He wondered if he should risk even giving her hand a comforting squeeze, but regretfully decided that he’d better not; after all, no matter what the circumstances, she was still married. And he had no idea whether it would bother her if her former editor realised that the two of them were more than friends, even if they hadn’t so far done anything beyond talk about their feelings.
So he had to confine himself to a glance of sympathy in her direction. She saw it, and gave him a quick smile in response.
White shrugged. “Always suspected. Had no proof. And you seemed to like him - you’re not often wrong about people, Lois. I’m sorry you had to find out this way, though.”
“Well...” She grimaced. “It’s done now. We’re investigating the possibility that Lex might have been responsible for the Planet bombing. We’re starting from the suspicion that he bribed or somehow persuaded our advertisers to take their business elsewhere. And I wondered if you might be able to help us.”
“I never did believe that Jimmy did it,” White growled. “But I had no proof. Near broke my heart to have to stand by and watch that boy go to prison for something I knew he didn’t do. Yeah, I can help you.”
It seemed that Perry White hadn’t been idle in his retirement. But then, for a man of his reputation, Clark shouldn’t have expected it. He’d collected a mass of documents - details of the advertising accounts which had gone elsewhere and where they’d gone, for starters. Unsurprisingly, all had gone to publications owned by one of Luthor’s companies. He’d also managed to acquire the forensic report on the explosion, which had found that the bomb had been in Jimmy Olsen’s lunch-pail.
“As if Jimmy ever knew the first thing about bombs,” White scoffed.
“So you always thought that Lex had something to do with the bombing?” Lois asked, her voice shaky.
“Aw, honey!” White exclaimed, and reached for her hand. “I didn’t have any reason to think that. I just knew it wasn’t Jimmy. All I figured with Luthor was that for some reason he wanted to own the paper, and he set about making sure he got it at a knockdown price. Never thought he’d burn it down as soon as he owned it!”
Chewing her lip again, Lois nodded jerkily.
“So we should try to find out what inducements these companies were offered to switch accounts?” Clark suggested, wanting to divert attention away from the subject of what White had known or not known about Luthor.
Lois nodded. “That’s a start. But unless we find a link between Lex and that bomb, we won’t be able to prove anything at all about the explosion. And that’s going to be tough - it was more than two months ago.”
“We can still try,” Clark said. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but we have to get your friend out of prison.”
“Lois, what about your sources?” Perry White suggested. “It’s been so long since I pounded the streets as a reporter - I just don’t have any contacts of my own left. But maybe someone might have a lead?”
“Good thought.” Lois scribbled some notes. “I can start asking some questions.”
“Only when you know it’s safe,” Clark warned. “Remember, you can’t let him know where you are. It might be days before you can do anything like that.”
And that need for caution, he knew, was going to hamper a lot of their work, at least until Rachel was able to come through with the evidence that Luthor had tried to kill his wife. They would just have to be patient. Even if it meant that Lois had to stay in hiding for some time to come.
*********
...tbc
