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Part 9/11
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I look at all the papers scattered on the coffee table. Is the answer in there? Have we missed something? What is that smell?
With horror I realize that the smell is me. More specifically, my shirt smells like the West River. Okay, first things first. I'll take a shower. I can think while I shower. I am one of the world's best multi-taskers. When I want to be.
I'm rinsing the conditioner from my hair before I finally stop thinking about Clark and turn my mind back to E and Delaney. And Marco! What about the last time we saw Marco? Did he say anything significant? I close my eyes and concentrate.
Where did we see him? We were leaving the restaurant. Clark had turned his head to tease me and walked right into Marco and another customer. Clark said he was sorry. The customer looked irritated and excused himself. Marco had laughed and said… something about my being so lovely he could see why Mr. Kent was distracted. Then he asked us if we enjoyed our meal and we gave him our compliments. Marco had told us to return soon, that he'd prepare us something extra special…
And that was it. Marco didn't give us any significant looks, unless a knowing wink counts. He certainly didn't act like a man who was going home to be tortured and killed.
What about the other guy - the customer? Then again, he didn't stick around and talk to us anyway. No, it's Marco that's the key to all this. What did Marco know? What does E think we know? Could E have been stalking Marco and saw him talking to us? Did he think Marco had told us something? Or is the fact that we saw him just hours before he died coincidental?
It's been a long day and my mind is tired of going in circles. I don't think I can keep my eyes open long enough for Clark to come back. I decide to turn in. It seems like too much effort to go dig my pajamas out my gym bag. I filch Clark's blue oxford shirt from the back of the bathroom door.
I'm about to get into bed when he comes back. His eyes trace over where the hem of his shirt reveals my bare legs and he smiles.
I smile back at him, suddenly I don't feel as tired. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," he says.
"When were you, or were you ever, planning to tell me you were Superman? Did E force your hand or was that something you were going to do anyway?"
"I was already going to tell you." He sits down on the bed, patting the mattress next to him in invitation. "I only wanted to be certain that you loved me as Clark first. Although there were moments when, as Superman, I wanted to tell you just to see the expression on your face."
I sit down next to him. "I was such a jerk to you. I would have deserved it." I manage to say the words like an adult but on the inside I'm mortified.
"Water under the bridge, Lois. Okay?"
"Okay." I don't deserve him. But, starting right now, I'll make sure that he never regrets being stuck with me. And he is stuck with me. Telling me his secret was as good as a wedding vow. It binds us together forever. I can understand why he put off telling me for so long.
"Can I ask you a question before we ban all past recriminations?" he asks softly.
I don't like the sound of that but I nod anyway.
"Why did you choose me over Scardino?"
"Dan?" I ask, thrown by this question.
"Yes. Unless you know more than one Scardino."
I don't say anything right away and he says, "You don't have to answer. I just wondered…"
"There are lots of reasons, Clark. I'd been seeing Dr. Friskin, I told you that. Anyway, I was working with her, trying to sort out my feelings for what I thought were the three men in my life. You, Scardino and, as it turns out, you again."
Clark looks a little disconcerted but he smiles encouragingly.
"So I started making lists. I realized that Superman was just a fantasy. Well, you know, I told you all this after the trial. Not that I knew I was telling *you* but…"
"Moving on," Clark prompts.
"And Dan, who really was nicer than you give him credit for, Dan was… well, really it's more of what he wasn't."
"What wasn't he?"
"You," I tell him. "He wasn't you, Clark. In the final summation he didn't understand me, wasn't willing to indulge me and never left me weak in the knees. Even at the risk of your running off for no reason I could discern I still would rather hang out with you at the end of the day. I've never felt that way about anyone on a long-term basis."
"A long-term basis?" He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. "What would you define as a long-term basis?"
"In your case?" I have to swallow past the sudden lump in my throat. "The rest of my life."
Clark's eyes go soft. "It's a deal then. The rest of my life."
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I wake up with a start and stare into the gloomy early morning light, my heart beating frantically. I'm nestled against Clark. He's still asleep, if his deep and even breathing is any indication.
What was it that woke me?
I listen but there's no sound beyond Clark's slumbering respirations. Actually he has what could fondly be called a soft snore. It's no window-rattler, in fact, it's kind of cute. Not the kind of cute that's only cute because you're hopelessly in love with someone. No, it's just cute.
Is that what woke me - an unfamiliar bed and a cute little snore? I consider that for a moment and decide that wasn't it. But there's a niggle at the back of my mind - and I've learned those ought not to be ignored.
It's out there lying on the coffee table, I just know it. The clue, the key, the answer to all our questions about E. I slip from the bed and head for the couch. I shuffle through all the papers in front of me and start to make piles on the table. All the articles about Delaney go in one pile. The story about Marco's death starts another pile. I look at the story about the warehouse fire and put it in a third pile for E. The information about the Schafer Building is a fourth pile.
What's the connection? Marco and Delaney started CanDel Industries together. What kind of business was it? Did E work for them? Before we meet with Henderson we need to do some research on CanDel Industries.
I make a note on the pad: 'CanDel Industries - employees?'
What about Delaney's bomb? Did he have an assistant, someone who knew how he worked? What was his "signature" anyway?
I write down: "Ask Henderson/Skousen - Delaney's signature on bomb"
I look through the notes that Clark made on Delaney. After our second story ran, the one that named Delaney as the embezzler, he disappeared. The body wasn't found until two months later. But according to the autopsy report he'd only been dead for three days. So where was he for two months?
My eyes widen - the Schafer Building! What if Delaney was the squatter in that dirty back room? On second thought, that can't be right. If you had just made off with two million dollars, why would you stay there? Maybe Delaney didn't have the money? So who took the money? Marco? Larry from the pawn shop? Larry did leave town at that same time and hasn't been seen since.
I put that on the list: "Where's Larry? - ask Bobby"
The floor squeaks behind me. "Good morning, Clark."
"Good morning." Clark comes over and sits next to me on the couch. "Are you making any progress?"
I hand him the notepad. "These are the things we need to follow-up on today."
Clark looks at the list and nods.
"When I went in the Schafer Building without you? There was a room in the back, right by where we came in. Someone had been camping out in there. What if it was Delaney?"
"That would explain where he was for the two months he was missing." Clark sets the notepad down and picks up the autopsy report. "Unless you still think he's alive and in hiding somewhere."
I sigh, hating to admit defeat.
"You want me to tell you where you're taking me for dinner? Just so you can start saving up for it?" Clark teases.
I ignore him, carefully leveling the edges on the piles in front. "What if Larry is E?" I ask. "After all, he disappeared the same time the money did."
"Maybe," Clark says. "But what about Marco? Lou said someone else had to be helping Delaney launder the money. What if Marco was funneling the money through the restaurant?"
"But why wait all these months to kill Marco? Surely Larry knew that they were partners?" I frown, knowing my theory is full of holes.
"Maybe E assumed that Larry had the money. Maybe it took him this long to catch up to Larry and discover that he didn't have it?"
"So who does? And why would E try to kill us? It's not like we're hiding two million dollars." I shake my head. It makes no sense. I glance at my watch. "We ought to get down to the City Building and look into CanDel Industries before we meet up with Henderson."
"Lois, it's Sunday. The City Building is closed."
"We could go to the Planet."
"And what if E is watching for us?"
"He won't be watching the roof. Superman can sneak us in, can't he?"
Clark combs his hair back with his fingers and smiles. "Yeah, I guess he could."
"I knew you'd see it my way. Do you want the shower first?"
"I know a way we could conserve water." His knee bumps mine softly.
"That's what I've always liked about you, Clark. You're very concerned about the environment."
"There's this theory about the rainforest and increased male potency, would you like to hear it?"
"You can explain that to me in the shower?"
"I can do more than that."
"Nah," I stand up. "We'll never get any work done that way."
"Wanna bet?" He asks, pulling me back down for a kiss.
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Even though I already knew everything was missing from my desk, it still gives me a hollow feeling inside when I see it looking so empty. I trail my fingers over the surface as I walk past. Clark is already sitting at Sanders' desk and booting up the computer. As he waits for the machine to warm up he sits back in the chair and gives me a lopsided smile. The news room is nearly empty, only Jimmy is here with us, although he's in the conference room going through stacks of files.
"Lois, can I ask you a personal question?"
I glance over at Jimmy. "I'm not sure this is the right time."
"No," he laughs. "It's not *that* kind of question."
"What kind of question is it?"
Still smiling, he shakes his head. "Never mind."
"No, Clark, ask me. It's okay."
"Maybe later."
Now I'm feeling paranoid but he's turned back to the computer and is typing in his user name and password. I come to stand behind him and watch as he types "CanDel Industries" into the Planet's search engine. As the computer searches I pull a chair over.
"So, really, what was the question?"
"It was nothing."
"Then ask me."
"Lois, really…"
"Clark! If you don't ask then I'm left to wonder what it was. At least give me a direction to wonder in."
The computer beeps and text appears on the screen. Clark leans closer and points at the screen. "See this? CanDel owned several properties including Marco's Ristorante, the Schafer Building and the warehouse on Pier 3 that's now a crater. Why don't you get on Murphy's machine and see what you can dig up on CanDel's employees?"
Obviously he's not going to tell me what the question was. My mind goes in circles as I sit down at Murphy's desk. There aren't many personal things about me that Clark doesn't know… now.
After I've logged in I start my own search on CanDel's employees. Over 200 names are returned by the search engine. It would take weeks to interview all of them. I scroll through the list, but only Marco's name jumps out at me. Even though the listing goes back to 1989 Delaney isn't on it. I click on 'print' and stand up to go retrieve it.
"Need anything while I'm up?" I ask.
Clark shakes his head, his hands a blur on the keyboard. I glance over but Jimmy isn't looking in our direction.
"Do you do that a lot?"
"What?" he asks, his fingers still flying over the keyboard.
"Use your superpowers when we're not looking."
He stops, turning in his chair to look at me. "Wouldn't you, if you could?"
I have to smile. "Yeah, probably." I touch his shoulder as I go to walk past him and then stop. "Find anything?"
"Not really," he says. "CanDel applied for an exports license in 1992, listing 'furniture' as the goods that they'd be exporting. The license was granted but there are no shipping manifests on file that showed anything had ever been exported. In fact, it isn't clear that any furniture has ever been built by CanDel."
"Another dead end," I mutter and turn to go pick up the employees list.
Jimmy knocks on the glass as I'm picking up the printouts. I wave at him and he sticks his head out the door. "Did you get the stuff that I sent over with Perry last night?"
"Yes, thanks."
"So you called that guy back?"
"What guy?"
"There was a message for you, I wrote it on the back of the Schafer building notes. Some guy named Larry…"
"Pawn shop Larry?"
"I don't think so. He said it was about Marco Canfora's death."
"Do you still have his number?"
"No, it's on the back of the list."
I rush over to Clark. "We need to go back to the condo. Larry tried to call us yesterday. Jimmy wrote the number on the back of the stuff he sent over with Perry."
"Pawn shop Larry?"
"It must be. He said it was about Marco."
"Let's go," Clark says as he gets up.
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"Clark?" I ask as he lifts us off the top of the Planet building. "I meant to ask you this last night. What do you remember about when we last saw Marco?"
"I bumped into him when we left the restaurant…"
"Right, but did he say anything that sticks out in your mind?"
"He knew that I only ran into him because I was distracted by you."
"What else?"
"He said we should come back and he'd have something special for us."
"Right. He was going to prepare something special…"
"No, he said 'have something special' and then he winked… Do you think he was hinting he had a story for us?"
"What if E saw or overheard that conversation and thought that he was passing on information? What about the customer Marco was talking to? Did you recognize him?"
Clark shakes his head slowly. "No, I don't think so. He was out of there pretty fast." His body tilts to vertical as he brings us down in the small passageway next to the condo. I head around the corner, knowing he'll catch up with me in a moment. I stop cold - the door is half-open.
"Clark?"
He comes up behind me and touches my elbow. "What's wrong?"
"We locked the door when we left, right?"
"Right." He notices the door and lowers his glasses. "No one in there, but…"
I push the door open.
"… I don't think you want to see it."
I take in a sharp breath but I can't think of anything to say. The condo has been utterly ransacked. Winch Kennebrew is going to kill us. Every little scrap of paper we had stacked on the coffee table is gone. The cushions have been pulled off the couch and slashed open. Worst of all, the large aquarium against the wall has been smashed. Water and fish are all over the floor.
"What in the…" I finally manage to sputter. I rush into the bedroom to find our clothes strewn everywhere. The mattress has been pulled off the bed and gutted.
"I was thinking about having that mattress bronzed." Clark says forlornly.
"I guess it's a good thing we didn't take Henderson's advice and stay put this morning." I tell him as he picks up one of the pillows and tosses it back on the destroyed bed. "Why trash the condo? Do you think he was just frustrated because we weren't here?" I kneel down and stuff some of my clothes back into my gym bag.
"Or maybe this was meant as a warning. Maybe he's trying to scare us."
Something shiny catches my eye. It's the key from Bobby's envelope, the one I saved as a souvenir of Clark's confession. At least I still have that left. I sit down on the floor. If E's trying to scare me then he's doing a damn fine job of it. "How did he find us here?"
Clark shrugs. "Maybe he followed Perry?"
I look around the room, still not quite comprehending that this has really happened. Why trash this place? Why destroy everything? Why not just take our notes and be done with it? Why ruin a perfectly good mattress? Why kill the fish?
And then it clicks. That niggling feeling at the back of my mind gels into clarity and I scramble to my feet. "Clark! I know where the money is!"
