Part Seven
After leaving Anna, Lois returned to the Daily Planet where she found Clark sitting at his desk typing up his notes. She quickly filled him in on her morning with Anna McLaren.
"Is Anna McLaren still getting on your nerves?"
"Yes...no...Sort of...."
"Sort of?" Clark asked, raising his eyebrow.
"I think I let her know that you’re off limits, but sometimes, there’re things she says or looks she gives me that send shivers up my spine."
"Shivers? Like she scares you?"
"More like Twilight Zone shivers where she knows something I should, but I don’t."
"I could talk to her. Maybe I can get a handle on what bugs you."
"Just remember to let her know that you’re mine."
Clark put his arm around his wife and planted a soft kiss on her lips. "Absolutely and forever yours," he said. "By the way, Henderson called. The other phone number calling Emil belongs to a Marcy Turcovic. He says she’s a personal assistant at TAL Inc."
"Never heard of it."
"Neither have I. Henderson is looking into it and so is Jimmy. But we do have an address for TAL Inc."
"I think I’ll find this Marcy Turcovic," she said to her husband. "I’ll follow her, see where she goes, get a sense of who she is."
"Good plan. Do you need any help?"
"I know how to get hold of you if I do," she said taking her cell phone out of her purse.
*******************
With time on her hands and little patience for shopping, Anna found Newbury’s address in the phone book and, with a map of the city in her hand, headed in his direction. Within a short time, she stood across the street from a small brick house in an older working class neighbourhood. Her eyes swept the house. No one was home. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she felt confident that when she found it, she’d know.
The interior of the house was sparsely decorated, if decorated was the right word. A sofa with a mismatched easy chair, a TV set and a boom box, a small kitchen table with three chairs, a bed, a dresser and a night table. Not much furniture but every piece covered in clothes, papers or half-empty take-out containers. She zoomed into each room. The stove was greasy, the fridge empty except for some basic condiments, a few bottles of beer and soda. Dirty dishes on the counters, a frying pan and a small pot lay piled on the counter. Obviously, the man didn’t bother cleaning up. The cupboards under the sink were cluttered with bags, garbage and cleaners...never used she noticed.
Anna refocussed on the outside. No one seemed to be around, but just in case she looked suspicious, she bent down and massaged her ankle. If someone came by, they’d assume she was exercising and had strained something. In the crouching position, she examined the other rooms. Newbury’s home was a mess, but unless she wanted to sift through the pile of clothes and other of his belongings, which were strewn all over the bedroom floor, she wasn’t going to find anything. Anna was disappointed that her search, so far, had come up with nothing.
As she got up and stretched her arms and legs, a Jeep drove into Newbury’s driveway. A good-looking man, about thirty, sandy-haired, six feet tall, got out of the vehicle. He picked up the mail, unlocked the door and went in the house, locking the door behind him. After he checked the mail, he aimed it at a table, but only a few envelopes made it to their destination. The rest fluttered to the floor. He went into the kitchen, took a bottle of beer, and headed for the bedroom. Chugging some beer, he slipped off his shoes and then placed the bottle on the night table. Use a coaster, Anna thought. Then she laughed at herself. Too little, too late.
Newbury took off his trousers and began unbuttoning his shirt. Standing in his briefs, he walked to the shower, turned it on and began to lower his briefs.
"That’s more than I want to see," Anna whispered, shaking her head. It was time to leave. As she headed away from the house, she decided to take one quick look at the Jeep. It was an older model, red, rusty in spots, a few dents on the sides. She peered into the back where there were two grungy gym bags. Clearly sticking out of one bag was a license plate: New Troy 324 AXY. She memorized the number. In the same bag as the license plate, she saw a shovel. Zooming in on the shovel, she saw traces of mud, leaves and grass.
Anna had to find a way to legally get hold of the license plate and shovel without tainting the evidence. Not wanting to stand out in full view, Anna walked down to the donut shop on the corner. After ordering a coffee, she sat beside the window keeping an eye on Newbury’s house. She might be wrong in her assumptions, but if she wasn’t then the evidence which could further their case was sitting in the back of the vehicle and she had to get it.
******************
The sun had set by the time Newbury walked out of his front door. He jumped into his Jeep and headed past the donut shop where Anna had already consumed several cups of coffee.
She left her seat and walked out the door as soon as she saw Newbury leave his house. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she started walking in the same direction as the car was headed. She picked up her pace.
She wasn’t quite sure what she hoped to achieve, but she knew that following Newbury on foot was not a good idea, even though she could travel as fast if not faster than he could. There were no cabs around to hail, but she had an idea how to get hold of the license plate and shovel legally, and that meant that she had to know where Newbury and his vehicle ended up. If only...
What the heck! she thought. This is Metropolis and no one even notices. Searching the area, Anna found a mini-park bordered by a cluster of trees. She walked to the trees, tucked her hair into the collar of the blazer then pulled it tightly around her neck so her white blouse wouldn’t show. Then looking around making sure no one could see her, she leapt into the air.
Flying above the cloud line, she found the vehicle and followed it from above.
She just hoped that no one noticed her, or if they did, they’d think Superman was dressed in black rather than in his suit. The words of the Metropolis cabby when he had dropped her off at her hotel rang in her ears. The people of Metropolis were used to Superman in the skies so they wouldn’t think to look up. That gave her the confidence to take off in the middle of the city.
And she had to admit, as she followed Newbury along the road, she liked the freedom to just take off anywhere, using her talents more freely.
The Jeep pulled into a parking lot. Newbury left the car and went into the building. Anna scanned the area. No one was around. She landed quietly, a short distance from the vehicle. Walking cautiously among the cars, she approached the Jeep and using her laser vision, quickly zapped the back tire enough to create a pinhole. She then leaned on the tire, letting enough air out to partially deflate it. Her next step was to make the spare unusable. She located it on the hatch at the back, zapped a larger hole in it and let it deflate completely. She walked away from the car and sat, inconspicuously, on a curb in the shadows waiting for Newbury to leave.
******************
The seats in Sykes Bar and Grill were beginning to fill more quickly now, Lois observed, sitting in a booth just behind Marcy Turcovic who had consumed two martinis in the last hour. Lois had followed the woman earlier to the bar and was waiting to see who she was going to meet. She’d left a message with Clark telling him to meet her there. Now she also sat nursing a drink, keeping her wits about her, as she watched the woman nervously checking the door and glancing at her watch.
Her hunch paid off when a man she recognized as Vic Newbury sat down beside Turcovic who was angrily pointing at her watch.
"You’re late," Turcovic said. Lois had no trouble hearing her, but then Turcovic leaned toward Newbury and the two began to whisper. Even though the two were very animated, and no matter how much she strained, she couldn’t overhear their conversation which lasted fifteen minutes. Where was Clark when she needed him?
When Newbury finally got up, he looked down at Turcovic and sarcastically said, "You’re not asking a lot, are you?"
"Just do it," Turcovic said.
Lois debated whether to stay with Marcy Turcovic or follow Newbury out the door. She had given him orders to do something, so Lois decided following him was her best bet. She put money on the table and followed Newbury into the parking lot. As she unlocked her car door, watching Newbury approach a Jeep, she was startled by a voice behind her.
"Do you have a cell phone on you?" Anna McLaren asked.
"What are you doing here?" Lois asked.
"Followed Newbury. I was waiting for him to come out." Anna hopped into the passenger side of Lois’s silver Cherokee.
"Why the cell phone?"
"He’s going to have a problem soon. Thought we’d let Bill Henderson know."
"You look like the cat who swallowed the canary."
"You think?"
"Well?"
"I checked out where Newbury lives and while I was there, he arrived home. I decided to follow him. That’s how I got here. I looked over his car and he seems to have some tire problems."
Lois opened her eyes. "You know, McLaren, I might get to like you."
"What were you doing here? Not following Newbury."
"No. Turcovic."
"Interesting."
"Definitely. They had a meeting. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in a good position to hear what they said."
"Where’s Clark?"
"Clark’s working on another story." Lois turned her head to see her passenger. That McLaren was definitely a strange one. Why would she bring up Clark just when Lois mentioned that she couldn’t hear what Newbury and Turcovic were saying? Didn’t she think Lois could do the work herself? Giving her the benefit of the doubt, Lois decided she had probably meant to change the subject...or she wanted to talk about Clark. Hadn’t she gotten the hint yet?
"Slow down. He’s pulling over to the side," Anna said. "Pull over and turn off your engine."
The two women watched as Newbury got out of his car and kicked the flat tire in frustration. Lois reached for her binoculars to get a closer look at Newbury while he opened up the hatch and threw out a few bags.
"He’s looking for something," Lois said.
"Call Henderson," McLaren said.
"McLaren, you are really bad," Lois said spying the very flat spare. "How did you manage to do that."
"Trade secret. Call Henderson and tell him to drive over here. There’re some very interesting items on the side of the road." Anna pointed to the license plate sticking out of the gym bag.
***************
The next day, David Morrow accompanied Inspector Henderson on a search of the TAL offices and warehouse, where Newbury and Turcovic were employed.
"Now remember," Bill Henderson instructed "you’re here to observe. That means you, Lois. Don’t touch anything. Kent, keep an eye on her. And McLaren, you don’t have jurisdiction here. You’re a visitor. You, too, Morrow."
David noticed that Lois was about to protest, probably something in the order that it was she who had found and reported the disabled vehicle on the road to Henderson. He and his men had arrived on the scene a few minutes after Lois placed the call. Anna had explained to David that, while a couple of uniform officers were helping Newbury get towing assistance, one of Henderson’s men had spotted a New Troy license plate sitting in an open gym bag that Newbury had earlier taken out of the vehicle while looking for the jack. Henderson had casually asked Newbury if the bag belonged to him. When Newbury answered in the affirmative, Henderson went to check the license plate as well as the plate on Newbury’s jeep. As per procedure, the officer called in the loose license plate which they learned belonged to a Paul Simmons .
Interestingly, Newbury’s New Troy plate was owned by TAL Inc. Because they were trying to link Turcovic and Newbury to Jeremy Hamilton’s murder, Anna had suggested she run the two plate numbers by Canada Immigration and Customs. She had found that the plates had passed the US-Canada border on October 6. Two days later, the New Troy license plate on the red Jeep had crossed the border back into the US. It was enough information for the police to obtain a search warrant for TAL Inc’s warehouse and offices where Marcy Turcovic worked.
That was where they were standing now, Bill Henderson holding a search warrant in his hand for the office and warehouse. David knowing that reporters and out of town guests didn’t often join a police team searching the premises in a murder investigation, grinned when Henderson reminded Lois she was there to observe. He knew he would stay out of trouble, and he knew that Anna was professional enough not to contaminate evidence. The four observers followed Bill Henderson and some of his officers into the front section of the warehouse which housed several offices.
David leaned against the door jamb, leaving the search to the police. Henderson and two officers led the inspection team through the office, collecting papers and turning artifacts upside down. But in the end, all they were looking at was an expensively furnished office of a successful import/export business with little of any value for the police. David followed the officers deeper into the warehouse behind the office and once again, the police looked through boxes of expensive pottery, household furnishings, and paintings. Nothing that would explain a connection to the murder.
Lois and Clark followed the officers. Clark glanced around the room, often tipping his glasses. David thought about suggesting that Clark go to a competent optometrist to get a new pair of glasses.
Anna walked around the warehouse with her hands behind her back. She seemed to try to sweep over the room with her eyes, but, like the rest of them, didn’t find anything helpful.
Lois Lane walked over to a far corner of the warehouse toward an elegant bookcase filled with books and more decorative artifacts. She asked, "Henderson, what’s behind door number three?"
"Door number three? Where?"
"Here," Lois said, as she pulled at a hook on one side of the shelf.
To David’s surprise, he saw the book shelves begin to move and revolve around. "Wow!" he said. "A real secret compartment."
"How did you know?" Henderson asked Lois who was nodding her head at Clark.
"A hunch that paid off. My father had the same set-up in his office when he worked for Max Mencken a number of years back."
When the book shelves had finally slid open, David followed the team into a cavernous room looking like a museum with large paintings hanging on the walls and objects d’art placed on pedestals around the room. The centre of the room was filled with crates and cardboard boxes, many with the word FRAGILE written across them. David wondered if the more expensive goods, or the illegal goods, were kept here.
While Henderson and his officers began to sift through some of the artifacts, Anna put on surgical gloves and headed to a corner where David could see leather-bound books. At the same time, Clark , walking toward one of the crates in the same area, placed his hand in front of Lois, stopping her. She was about to protest this restriction of her movements, but then she seemed to see his expression and raised an eyebrow questioningly. Almost immediately her expression changed to alarm as she stared at her husband. Without leaving his side, she began looking frantically around the room.
David was entranced by their ability to communicate by touch and facial expression.
Suddenly, Clark bent over, seizing his mid-section. He grimaced in pain. Lois nodded, put her arm around her husband and helped him out of the room. The whole charade took less than thirty seconds.
David was about to follow the couple, to see if he could help, when he heard a thud. He turned toward the noise: Anna lay on the ground, a vase overturned beside her. She clutched her stomach and groaned. David rushed over to her. He laid her flat on the floor.
"She all right?" Henderson asked, leaning over David who was taking Anna’s pulse.
"Pulse is racing. She has a fever. Pain, but not localized."
"I’ll call an ambulance."
"No," Anna whispered. "No...ambulance."
"I’ll take you to emergency, to a hospital. They’ll take care of you," David said. He used his training to keep his personal anxiety out of his voice.
"No," Anna growled. "No hospital." She winced.
"Anna, don’t be stupid. You’re sick and you’ve got a fever. You’re shivering."
She grasped David’s hand, leaned closer to him and whispered, "Please, David...no hospital." She closed her eyes and took a shallow breath, once again wincing at the pain. "No hospital. Aspirin. Fluids."
"Has this happened before?"
"No. I’ll be fine. Just get me outta here. Please?" she pleaded.
***************
tbc
