Earth
It was on a sunny Monday morning that a well-rested Lois exited the elevator and, with her customary energy, moved rapidly down the ramp into the newsroom. She was wearing a charcoal pinstripe pantsuit with a lavender silk blouse. The outfit’s excellent cut and tailoring announced to the world that she was ready to take on anything the week had to offer.
“Any word from Henderson?” she called out to Perry as he exited his office.
“Great shades of Elvis! Slow down, Lois! Where’s the fire?’ Perry said, with not a bit of anger. He loved how determined a certain reporter sounded tearing through the newsroom.
Over by the new coffee station that Franklin Stern had just purchased for the bullpen, Talmadge offered, “Henderson contacted me on Sunday evening. Simcoe was not at his apartment when they sent over those uniforms Friday night. Detectives Javier and Beckett, as well as that writer fella was with them.”
Lois put down her briefcase and said in disbelief, “Beckett was with them, and they failed to catch him?”
Jimmy said from the coffee station, “Wow! Kate Beckett is one of the best detectives on the force. She must be annoyed at missing a chance to bag Simcoe!”
Talmadge walked over to her desk while stirring a cup of coffee, the smell of his fresh hazelnut brew threading around her. “There is another alternative. One that none of us are going to like.”
“Simcoe is dead?” Perry said flatly.
Lois muttered softly about people grandstanding while drinking flavored coffee as she booted up her computer. The monitor sprang to life with the Daily Planet’s colorful logo appearing on the screen.
Talmadge took a long sip from his cup and said, “Yeah, something like that. Bill Church, Jr. is not as ‘understanding’ as his father. If he suspects that Simcoe was going to be a problem, he might have decided to make that ‘problem’ disappear.”
“Wait a second! Why did Henderson contact you and not me?” Lois said suddenly, more than a little peeved.
Perry, who had started walking towards Cat’s desk, turned back to them, and said, “What’s this Lois? Bill Henderson didn’t get in contact with you. What’s going on? He’s your best ally on the MetroPD.”
Talmadge leaned over Lois and said softly, “He tried to, both on Friday night and most of Saturday, but you never picked up the phone. I knew you were with your family because that’s my assignment. Care to let your, um… our boss in on the secret?”
Lois groaned. After leaving Clark’s apartment Saturday morning, she went to her parent’s home for a visit. Lucy was there as well, and when one thing led to another, she ended up spending the day with them. Being with them was a great way to put the worrisome message from New Krypton out of her mind, at least temporarily. She knew that Perry was only asking because he cared. It could not hurt to let the chief know her whereabouts.
“Perry, as you know, with Clark … away, family time is important to me, so I was with them for most of the weekend. But that still doesn’t explain why Henderson didn’t leave a voice mail on my machine! There must be some kind of boy’s club connection going on!” She grumbled.
Perry shoved his hands in his pockets and said to the hapless duo. “Listen, it doesn’t matter who Inspector Henderson didn’t call, but it matters why he did call. Find out what happened to Simcoe, otherwise the connection to Intergang is broken and your follow-up story is as dead as Elvis.”
At that moment, Lois’ phone rang shrilly on her desk. She snatched it up quickly, listened briefly and then said, “Detective Reed? Great to hear from you, especially since Bill seems to have lost my phone number.” She was silent for a moment and then breathed excitedly, “No kidding? Simcoe’s in MetroGen under police protection? Guarded condition? Can I see him? What room?” Lois pulled out a pencil and a pad of paper and wrote hastily.
Only seconds after Lois started talking to Detective Reed, Talmadge’s phone also started ringing. He took the call and with his usual quiet manner, talked to the person on the other end of the line, wrote down notes, and then hung up almost around the same time as Lois.
“Who called you? Henderson?” she asked sharply.
“No. My section chief, Harold Zhao. Apparently, Mr. Simcoe was attacked by a low-level Intergang thug on Sunday morning just as he was going to the supermarket. He was under protective custody by the Metropolis police, but the FBI has taken over that detail as of ten minutes ago. Detective Reed and Inspector Henderson are probably being informed even as we speak.”
Lois glared at Talmadge. She was about to yell at him, but thought better of it and said, “That is a little high-handed, don’t you think? If it were not for courageous Dr. Siebert, his patients and my story, the Bureau wouldn’t have a clue about Intergang. Now they are telling MPD to simply hand the case over to them?”
Talmadge shrugged and said, “In my world, that’s the way things go. Still, if we hurry, we can get a statement from Simcoe, which will dovetail neatly into the article. Despite having sustained two gunshot wounds, he’s ready to turn state’s witness for a shorter prison sentence. He’s even willing to do it without an attorney present! Considering all the help you have given; Agent Zhao has given permission for you to come along and listen in while he asks questions.”
In answer, Lois shut down the computer, stuffed her notes in the briefcase, threw on the heavy orange jacket she had just discarded, and raced up the ramp, only steps behind Talmadge.
***
MetroGen’s large, airy central lobby was a flurry of activity as the two reporters walked up to the main reception area. Several people sat on long, dark couches, thickly upholstered in
heavy-duty industrial gray fabric, as they waited for their turn to visit ailing loved ones and friends. As Lois and Talmadge approached the reception area, an orderly pushed a young Asian woman holding a tiny sleeping newborn in a wheelchair. They were followed by a small entourage of family led by a smiling young man who had to be the father. Lois watched as the group exited the lobby to the outdoors, eager to face this new chapter of their lives. Lois wondered if she and Clark would ever have such a privilege.
The reporters presented their press badges to a silver-haired volunteer who spoke in a genteel Virginia accent, “I am sorry, but a press badge does not permit access to the Intensive Care Unit right now. The police department has closed it to everyone except emergency patients.”
Before Lois could speak, a familiar voice reached her ears, “Good to see you Lois, even if it’s for work. Why do I have a feeling you have something to do with the ruckus taking place in the ICU?”
Lois turned around and saw Clark’s oldest friend from Smallville, Dr. Pete Ross standing by the desk. The powerfully built man, wearing surgical greens and a stethoscope hanging around his neck, came over, gave her a hug, and smiled down at her with warmth and affection.
“Are you just leaving a surgery or preparing for one?” she asked with a tiny smile.
“Neither. I’m getting started with my rounds. Wearing this outfit rather than a shirt and tie only makes me look more official.”
“Hopefully, those patients appreciate that they are in the care of the best Neurosurgeon in Metropolis!”
Pete was about to reply when he took note of Talmadge standing close to Lois, as if he were protecting her from some perceived threat. The doctor’s normally affable blue eyes turned suspicious, and he said to her, “Who’s your friend?”
“Uh, this is my temporary partner, Paul Talmadge.”
She introduced the two men and watched as they sized each other up like a couple of prizefighters. Pete, she knew was doing it in defense of his friend, but why in the world was Talmadge acting so protective? Surely he did not think someone from Intergang would attempt to harm her in MetroGen? Besides, at this point, they should be more concerned about Simcoe’s safety than hers.
Pete nodded slightly, comprehending a great deal with those few words. He looked at the receptionist who was respectfully watching the exchange and said, “Mrs. Harness, Miss Lane is a friend of mine, she and her associate can go upstairs. I suspect Detective Reed and Agent Zhao are expecting them.”
The older woman looked concerned, “Ah… are you certain Dr. Ross? I was given strict instructions by Dr. Yanos. The Director of Administration told me not to let anyone except the police or FBI agents into ICU.”
Pete rolled his eyes. He and Yanos had a long history together. The man was a glorified general practitioner and a general pain in the butt. Not someone he had any intention of fearing.
"Oh yeah… Dr. Yanos. I’m certain, if we don’t let them go upstairs there will be more trouble … but not from administration. Guess what? I have a patient to see up there, so I’ll accompany them to ICU.”
“Yes, doctor.” With those reassuring words, the receptionist produced special passes with a red-edged border for Lois and Talmadge. “Please wear these at all times while in the ICU. The patient’s location is written on the pass. A police officer will meet you at the elevator.”
The walk down to the bank of elevators was conducted in silence as was the ride to the twelfth floor.
When the heavy metallic doors flew open, they were stopped by a burly, uniformed police officer with a beefy red face and a no-nonsense attitude. He held up his hand and barked in a rough voice, “Only authorized personnel from the MPD and the FBI at this point. Get back downstairs!”
Talmadge growled, “My name is Paul Talmadge. We have passes, permitting us to be up here.” He didn’t want to reveal his association with the Bureau of Investigation.
Pete said, “I’m Dr. Ross. I have a patient on this floor suffering from Trigeminal neuralgia. These people were …”
The officer cut Pete off, refused to listen, and then said, “That fancy medical lingo doesn’t interest me. Repeat. Go back downstairs!
Before another word could be spoken in protest, a woman’s voice cut through the air and echoed around the corridors, which had both MPD uniforms and federal agents standing by stairways, supply closets, and elevator banks. “Let them through Kevin, if you don’t want to see your name and poor conduct mentioned in Lois Lane’s story tomorrow.” Jerking her thumb in Paul’s direction she said, “This is Agent Talmadge, who works for Agent Zhao.” Detective Reed said harshly in her Texas accent that brooked no nonsense.
The cop, his face flushed with embarrassment, wisely stepped aside, but not before he gave the trio a suspicious look.
“Detective Reed! Thanks for getting us past the over-zealous traffic cop.” Lois said as the group walked down the corridor.
“No problem, Lane, just remember this the next time it’s necessary for me to talk to you off the record,” the detective said with a smirk.
Pete tapped Lois on the shoulder and said, “This is where I leave. Time to attend to my patient; thankfully, it was a simple procedure and he’s recovering. At least the poor guy doesn’t actually have trigeminal neuralgia. I only said that to get us past the policeman.”
Detective Reed shuddered and said, “That sounds painful.”
“Yeah, it’s a severe facial pain—perhaps one of the most excruciating pains encountered in medicine. Trigeminal neuralgia is a chronic condition that causes sudden, extreme burning or jolting facial pain that lasts for up to two minutes. The intensity of the pain can be frightening and physically incapacitating. Sadly, I have gotten a few cases with this condition and the patient just wants relief.”
“That’s terrible! What is the cure?” Lois asked.
“MetroGen is among a few hospitals in New Troy to provide the level of care required for the treatment options for this debilitating condition. We are also the only hospital in the region that offers the Gamma Knife radiosurgery technology for treating this condition.”
Talmadge said sourly, “That cop by the elevator seems to have the same condition, except the pain is not in his facial nerves, but much lower!”
The group took a moment to realize that Talmadge had cracked a joke. Their laughter was heard down the hallway, and no doubt reached the pompous man’s ears.
Lois, understanding that Pete’s time was short, turned to the others and said, “Can you both wait just a minute? It’s important for me to speak with Dr. Ross.” They walked down the hallway as Reed and Talmadge watched.
As soon as they were out of earshot she said in a whisper, “I heard from Clark last night.”
Surprised, the big man looked around and said. “What? How?”
She bowed her head and bit a trembling lip, “A device… like a courier, brings holographic messages to me from his home planet.”
Pete’s eyes grew wide. But kept the volume of his voice down, “My God, that is amazing! Is he all right? When does he expect to come home?”
“If only we had some idea! He’s fighting an insane civil war, so nothing is certain. He’s so far from everyone he loves...” Abruptly, Lois’ brown eyes became awash with tears that she fiercely wiped away. “I’m sorry for keeping this from you Pete. He’s your oldest friend and you have a right to know. For a while there I was drowning in self-pity. His… ‘abduction’ has been difficult for everyone.”
Pete gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “This has been harder on you than all of us. Remember, you can always contact me… please don’t be a stranger.” He glanced down the corridor at the two people anxiously waiting for her. “Now you better get back to your partner and the detective. It looks to me like they are getting a tad impatient.”
Lois glanced back at them. “They can wait a moment longer. Perry saddled me with Talmadge because of this investigation I’m involved in. He’s also a genuine reporter from Washington, which makes his cover that much more believable.”
Pete chuckled. “Yeah, I was wondering what that tense guy was doing with you. Listen, if he gives you any trouble, page me.”
A grateful smile spread across her lips. “Yes, big brother!”
The expression on Pete’s face grew serious. “Clark is like the brother I never had. You are his fiancé, which kinda sorta makes you my sister. Make certain Agent Talmadge is aware of that fact. Better he tangle with me now, rather than with Clark later.”
The unspoken words between them were: If there is a later.
She nodded. “I will. It was great talking with you again. Time for me to get back to my interview.”
Pete shook his head, and then sighed. “What would Lois Lane be like if she was not tracking down a major story? Call me later. I want to know what Clark’s up to. Take care of yourself...sis. I’m going to talk to Mom and Dad Kent tonight. Now go on. Talmadge looks like he’s about to have a stroke; take my word for that as a doctor.”
With that he gave her arm a squeeze, turned, and walked down the hallway.
Lois rejoined the duo. Detective Reed said, “The big blonde guy looks familiar. Who is he?”
“Dr. Peter Ross, ER neurologist and Clark’s best friend. He was asking how I am doing.”
Reed’s face flushed, embarrassed and then quickly, “Oh, I remember him! He helped save Detective Carter last year. He’s a great surgeon! I thought he was one of the attending physicians in this case. I heard Joss Carter is finally going to marry her boyfriend John Reese. Sorry, didn’t mean to pry into your personal business, but we need to get this interview done before we put Simcoe under serious lockdown.”
Lois looked around at the number of uniforms and agents in the hallway and waving her arm at them. “What do you call this? Minimum security?”
“It’s the best we can do under the circumstances, Miss Lane. My team has been here since Simcoe arrived on Sunday,” a deep masculine voice said. “Everyone involved in this case, says that there would not be a case without your help. That’s the only reason, we are granting this interview with Mr. Simcoe. I am only sorry your fiancé, Mr. Kent, is not here as well.”
Talmadge turned and said, “Lois, this is my Section Chief, Agent Zhao.”
Before them stood an Asian man of medium build, his suit slightly rumpled, as if he had taken a catnap in it. His eyes were red from lack of sleep, yet he stood ramrod straight and greeted the reporters cordially. Lois took the man’s hand, shook it, and then said, “Thank you, Agent Zhao. Well, it looks like everyone’s here. Detective Reed, care to lead the way?”
“Yeah, time we got something started before Director Yanos falls down on us like a hammer for disrupting the patients and their routine.” With those words, she stalked down the corridor and turned left.
They came to a hallway that was full of uniforms and serious looking men and women wearing special listening devices that coiled from their earpiece down to their collars. Lois was impressed. No one was playing anymore with Intergang; if Simcoe would point his finger in the right direction, they had every intention of keeping him alive long enough to reach the witness stand.
Room E-287D had two armed uniforms standing on either side of the heavy wooden door. Upon seeing Agent Zhao, they opened the door, allowing the entire group to enter. A thin tan blanket and a white sheet covered the patient, while numerous tubes and sensors were either inserted or attached to his supine form. Simcoe, a tall man with dark curly hair, lay with his head, neck and shoulders, propped up on pillows, to make breathing more comfortable. A plastic IV cannula snaked from the bag of fluid near the bed into a vein in his arm, slender but strong fingers held in place by a pulse oximeter. He stared up at the ceiling as if there was something of particular interest to him as they surrounded the bed.
Lois couldn’t help but sense that despite being in this safe, albeit sterile, environment the man reminded her of a menacing cobra; poised and ready to strike.
Agent Zhao said, “Mr. Simcoe, we have visitors here to witness the interrogation, FBI Agent Paul Talmadge and Lois Lane and of the Daily Planet, who as you are aware has written extensively about this investigation.”
The voice which emerged from the body was surprisingly smooth, yet almost as ominous as a snake moving over its victim’s paralyzed body. “Very well. My loyalties have shifted considerably since my former employers decided to give my body… ah, personal… ventilation.”
Zhao’s face became impassive, “Mr. Simcoe, immunity is only being granted because of your cooperation. Otherwise, once released from the hospital’s care you would have been placed in the general population of New Troy Prison.”
A bitter snarl erupted from his throat. “And lose your star witness against Intergang? Don’t make me laugh!”
“You got immunity, Simcoe, quit stalling.’ Reed snapped as she pointed a red lacquered nail in the prisoner’s face.
With a barely imperceptible shrug of muscular shoulders as if to give up something of little consequence, Simcoe replied with a tight smile, speaking as if to soothe an angry child. “Temper, temper Detective Reed. One would think you had a personal stake in bringing down the Churches. Are you upset with them because they raised the price of those false fingernails? What’s the color’s name? Blood red?”
Rather than let Reed answer, Agent Zhao laid a calmative hand on her shoulder. The sharp woman fairly bristled at his touch but stepped back from Simcoe’s bedside to compose herself.
Simcoe again gave that irritating little smile, knowing he had gotten the better of the policewoman and relishing the tiny victory. “Very well, let me begin. RoxxTen was purchased by Mr. Church Sr. six years ago, before CostMart’s operations moved into the state of New Troy. Apparently, he is a prudent man and wanted all the chess pieces on the board before the illegal segment of his operations began.”
“For the purpose of laundering the profits from their illegal operations?” Zhao asked.
“Yes, that would be correct,” Simcoe answered blandly.
Lois chimed in, “But why all the neglected payments to health care providers? Dozens of patients were stuck with bills that ran into the thousands of dollars which RoxxTen was supposed to cover in their health insurance policies.”
Reed mumbled under her breath, “What happened? Somebody get greedy. Sounds like garbage insurance to me.”
Talmadge who had been sitting back listening said tersely, “Using a legitimate business for money laundering makes sense from the criminal’s viewpoint. Still, if there is no clear evidence that Bill Church himself set this whole operation in motion, everything – Dr. Siebert’s assault, Elden Kraft’s possible death and anything else they might have a hand in – will be for nothing. The Churches walk.”
With a quick turn of his head, the prisoner said, “Elden’s dead?”
Talmadge shook his head and said, “Possibly. We thought you might point us in his direction.”
Simcoe said with a touch of concern for Elden. “He’s the key to the entire money laundering operation. Charles Belfield assigned him the job as the chief accountant who oversaw the entire process. But all that money pouring in… it was too much to resist. He started embezzling funds using his considerable computer skills. Unfortunately, according to him, there was a slight error made while coding the program. Instead of removing small amounts of money from the accounts that Intergang was funneling in, somehow patients bills were not paid.”
Christine Reed looked up, “Charles Belfield? The CEO of RoxxTen? He said he had no knowledge of any problems within the company.”
Lois quickly dived into her briefcase and pulled out her RoxxTen story file. Upon finding the right page regarding her conversation with No-Knees Nolan, she said, “According to one of my sources, Belfield used to work for CostMart as one of Church’s executives. He must be an Intergang higher-up.”
Simcoe nodded. “Correct, Miss Lane. Kraft and I took our cues from Belfield, but Bill Church was the one pulling his strings. Still, if Kraft had been a little more diligent in his programming duties, all the payments would have been covered and Intergang’s little shell game of monies would have remained hidden. To all concerned, RoxxTen continues to be an ‘outstanding’ insurance company, caring for its clients and their providers.”
Looking up from the file notes Lois said, “Are you serious? All these patients and their families suffered because some guy had his hand in the cookie jar …and couldn’t get it out?”
Simcoe nodded his head slowly, “Essentially, yes.”
“Some glitch!” Detective Reed snorted. “But that doesn’t explain why you went after Dr. Siebert. After all, company service reps don’t go around threatening doctors. Did the twisted computer program tell you to do that?”
With a smirk he said, “Computers are not my field. Just as hair care is not yours, Detective Reed.”
Christine Reed’s face flushed and she took in a deep breath, the harsh sound bouncing around the hospital room. The detective was angry and about ready to verbally slice into the prisoner. Thankfully, Zhao spoke before she could.
“Computer program errors can be tracked down, although it seems far-fetched to me that it happened quite the way you say it did. Still, the Bureau has qualified experts who can verify that part of your story.”
Lois had her own computer expert, Eugene Ladermer. When they got back to the Daily Planet, she intended to give him a call.
“Agent Zhao, you are welcome to try,” Simcoe said, casually pulling a loose blanket thread. “But despite Elden’s mistake, he covered his tracks within the program very well.”
“Terrific. How are we supposed to believe this fairy tale? Elden is probably dead and with him any evidence of the numerous crimes Intergang has committed,” Zhao grumbled.
“Why not find him and ask? I spoke with him that night at Capparelli’s.” Simcoe said in a flat, deadly tone.
“Yeah?” Reed asked her interest piqued, “He’s alive? Do you know where he’s hiding?”
“No.”
Rubbing her chin, Lois said thoughtfully. “Agent Talmadge and I were outside Capparelli’s on Friday night. We saw you talking to several persons of rather dubious character which automatically breaks your probation. Maybe we can ask Bill Church, Jr.? You two were pretty chummy outside the pool hall. Did Elden have a chat with him inside? Oh yeah, why did Junior take your pool stick case? What happened? Lost it in a bet?”
Simcoe, with a nasty gleam in his eyes, rebuked her by saying. “Lois Lane on a stakeout with someone other than Clark Kent? My, my, what would your dear absent fiancé think?”
Talmadge, who up to that point had been silent, in a rare show of emotion, slapped his palm on the cheap nightstand’s white Formica top, his voice raised in volume. “Stop avoiding the questions! Lois Lane and Detective Reed are professionals in their respective fields. The former and her fiancé brought down Lex Luthor, the Boss of Metropolis and the latter put away the cunning genius who created the Ides of March computer virus program that nearly crippled the country. If you keep needling them and everyone else in this room, I am sure between us and them we can find a way to put Bill Church and his son away without your testimony. Do I make my meaning clear?”
For the first time, a touch of worry shaded Simcoe’s voice, “Crystal.”
There was a brief silence in the room before Agent Zhao cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Simcoe, as Agent Talmadge said, answer the questions. No doubt, Ms. Lane, Detective Reed, and the rest of us have more important matters to attend to than dancing to your tune.”
“Yeah, now, once again. Why did you attack Dr. Siebert?” Detective Reed said.
“I… I was under orders from someone within Intergang to make an … example of Dr. Siebert. It was felt that if one prominent physician were ‘persuaded’ to rejoin RoxxTen then the others would fall in line, not wanting to suffer the same fate.”
Lois’ eyes grew wide, and she gasped out, “You weren’t going to kill him were you?”
Simcoe remained silent.
“Will you swear to that in a court of law?” Reed asked.
He glared at her and said succinctly, “I never said anything about killing the good doctor. Why would I give away my bargaining chip? Oh, Ms. Lane, regarding my cue stick? I did lose a bet. Bill Church Jr. will have it from now on.”
Detective Reed muttered a curse under her breath and said nothing. The man once again avoided a direct question and was arrogant in the extreme. But if it were up to her, once the trial was over, Simcoe could be left to rot in the bottom of some cold, dark pit.
Before another word could be spoken, Agent Zhao said, “I think it’s time we leave, Mr. Simcoe.”
Without a word of farewell or backward glance to the man laying down in the hospital bed, they departed the room and walked down the hallway to the elevator.
“That team of federal lawyers I saw earlier downstairs wants to depose him?” Detective Reed said briskly.
Agent Zhao rubbed his eyes. The man was exhausted. The past twenty-four hours had been long and wearisome. “Yes, to find out what else Simcoe knows and to preserve his testimony. Just in case Intergang gets to him before he reaches the witness stand. The intent is to allow the parties to learn all of the facts before the trial, so that no one is surprised once he is in court. Contrary to what countless movies and TV shows would have the public believe, springing a surprise witness at the eleventh hour of a trial is regarded as unfair, even if the defendants are a criminal organization. By the time a trial begins, the parties should know who all of the witnesses will be and what they'll say during testimony.”
“We can still write up the story, can’t we?” Lois asked.
“Not yet. But you have my word that the Daily Planet will get the exclusive. As Paul has mentioned to me on numerous occasions, this investigation would have stalled without your involvement, Ms. Lane,” Agent Zhao said respectfully.
Mollified, Lane bit back a retort, and instead graciously said, “Thank you for that, Agent Zhao.” Turning to the detective she said, “Christine, we’ll talk later. Tell Henderson I’ve got a bone to pick with him.” With that, Lois and Talmadge entered the elevator and shortly thereafter, departed the hospital.
In the parking lot Talmadge said, “Let’s head back to the Daily Planet with what we’ve got; so Perry won’t kill the story.”
Lois shook her head as she opened the driver's side of the Jeep. “No, Talmadge, not just yet.”
Puzzled, by this turn of events asked, “Why not?”
“Because we have to see a man about breaking into a computer.”
Her partner looked at her and gave a small groan of concern. “My assignment is to protect you, not get involved in breaking and entering!”
“Yeah well, this is not what we learned in college or at our respective newspapers. This is all part of getting the story and putting away the bad guys. Come on, it’s time we went down memory lane…”
A sharp spike of apprehension went down Talmadge’s back. He didn’t like the tone of Lois’ voice.
