Chapter Sixteen
>>>Tuesday, 9:54 AM
The brooding and silent Indian opened a large oaken door for Lois, then stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. She edged in, wondering if there were any more traps inside, whether of her own making or not. The door snicked shut behind her and she spun around.
Asabi was no longer there. But another door on the far wall opened to admit Lex Luthor, dressed in an elegant light gray business suit and wearing a sincere smile.
“Welcome, Miss Lane. Would you care for a beverage or a snack?”
“Thank you, Mr. Luthor, I’m fine. I’d like to get started on the interview, if that’s all right with you.”
He moved towards a small circular table, away from the huge desk. “By all means, let us begin. But surely you remember my asking you to call me Lex?”
She smiled as he held her chair. “I do. But I didn’t want to presume on such a new relationship.” She settled into her chair as he took a seat across from her. “After all, this is a professional meeting.”
“Of course it is. But I would still appreciate it if you would address me by my first name.”
She considered it for a moment, then decided it was a good idea. “Okay by me, but only if you call me Lois.”
The wattage on his smile doubled. “Of course. And thank you.”
She pulled two sharpened pencils, a notepad, and her micro-cassette recorder out of her purse. “Would it be all right if I taped our interview? I’d hate to misquote you.”
Luthor laughed lightly. “Please do record our session. That way you can play back my erroneous statements for me.”
Lois smiled back and began recording. “Lois Lane interview with Lex Luthor, Tuesday morning – oh, what’s the date?”
Lex pointed at a panel on the wall facing his desk which showed the current date and the time in six of the world’s most financially important time zones. Lois repeated the date into her recorder and nodded her thanks.
“This interview between Lois Lane and Lex Luthor is being recorded with the full knowledge and consent of the person being interviewed, Lex Luthor. Do you agree?”
“I agree wholeheartedly.”
“Mr. Luthor – excuse me, Lex – I’d like to start with some personal information, if you don’t mind.” He nodded easily. “Your military service record shows that you were first a non-commissioned officer and then an officer in the US Army Special Forces from 1972 through 1977, but doesn’t show any detailed information. Can you fill in some of the gaps for me?”
Luthor looked surprised. “Well, I’d love to, but I really hate to brag.”
“I’m sure my readers would love to know more about you.”
“Yes, but if I told you certain things, I’d be violating national security restrictions. Like many soldiers of the past three decades, there are some things I was involved in that I can’t talk about.”
“I don’t want you to tell me anything you shouldn’t, of course, but aren’t there some things about that time which you can tell me?”
He pursed his lips in thought. “I assume you know that I was stationed in Da Nang and Saigon for part of that time?”
“Yes. You were involved in some of the last military operations in Vietnam. Last official ones, at any rate.”
“Are you suggesting that I was involved in any unofficial operations in that theater?”
She smiled. “There are gaps in the public record, rumors of some very interesting missions, and some of the people I’ve talked to get these knowing smiles when I ask them about them. I was hoping you could fill in some of the gaps.”
“I’m sorry, Lois, but I really did sign a non-disclosure form when I left the army. I’d have to submit your list of questions on that subject to the Department of Defense before answering.”
“I understand. Is there anything about that time period that you can talk to me about?”
He tapped his chin with his finger. “Hmm. I can tell you how I met Asabi.”
“Please do.”
“Close to the end of my term of service, I was attached to a diplomatic team working to resolve a border dispute between Pakistan and India, something which is still not exactly a rare occurrence, and I was attracted by a fight in an alley not far from the embassy complex. I was off duty and doing some sightseeing, and I’ve never liked seeing three beat up one, so I took part in the fight and chased off the three attackers.
“Asabi was badly injured, so I took him to the closest medical facility, which happened to be located in the American embassy. After he’d recovered a bit, he told me he’d been marked for death by a gang of smugglers who called themselves the Tuggees. Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”
Lois frowned. “Weren’t they a cult of assassins in India several hundred years ago? They worshipped – oh, I can’t remember, some violent Hindu deity.”
“That is the official history. The historical evidence is a bit slim to support the existence of the cult, although there are some communities in India who embrace the history fully, even to the point of reverence for the British general who eliminated the nineteenth-century Tuggees as an organization. This particular modern gang, however, was quite violent in its own right, and Asabi had testified against the Tuggees in a conspiracy trial the previous month. This was the fourth attempt on his life.”
She raised her eyebrows. “The fourth attempt within a month?”
“Yes. He’d fought off the other three attempts, but that last time the numbers were simply too many, even for one with his skills.”
“I assume you mean his fighting skills?”
“Yes. Asabi is not only a skilled practitioner of unarmed Indian combat disciplines, he’s also a high-ranking black belt in the Chinese martial art of Wing Chun, he is considered a near-master of the Philippine art of escrima, and he’s quite well-versed in the Malaysian martial art of Silat. Since arriving here in the States, he’s participated in several full-contact tournaments, all of which he has won handily. He’s even taught me a number of things, and my military combat instructors were quite efficient in hand-to-hand combat training.”
Lois nodded. “I’m impressed. No wonder he was able to intimidate me in the elevator.”
Luthor started. “I’m sorry, he did what?”
“Oops.” Lois waved her hands. “Please, forget what I said. I made an offhand comment about him knowing where the bodies were buried, and I guess he took it literally. I never intended to insult him. Or you.”
The billionaire appeared distressed. “Please accept my apology for his reaction, Lois. He is fiercely loyal to me. I will speak to him and explain that you meant no harm or insult to me.”
“Oh, I’d rather just forget about it, if it’s all the same to you. Or, better yet, please convey my apologies to him.” She grimaced. “I’m not sure he’d listen to me right now.”
“Very well. I will do so at the first opportunity. Shall I continue the story?”
“Please, yes.”
He sat back. “Since Asabi was – and still is – of the opinion that I saved his life that day, he offered to serve as my assistant and personal retainer. He has fulfilled that role ever since. He has saved my own life on at least two occasions, but he refuses to acknowledge that any debt he might have owed towards me has been more than amply repaid.”
“I see. That’s a good story. And it sounds as if the two of you have built a good friendship.”
Lex waved his hand dismissively. “I trust Asabi with my life, but I must confess that at first I had an ulterior motive in accepting his offer. His assistance made my job much easier.”
Lois picked up on his last sentence. “What, may I ask, was your job, exactly?”
He smiled slightly. “At the time, I was responsible for providing on-site security for any and all public appearances by the ambassador or any of his staff. Asabi was an invaluable help, both with information and his physical presence.”
“I’m glad. Why did you leave the military?”
“Ah. That was one of the occasions where Asabi repaid me. A pair of assassins ambushed the car which was supposed to contain the ambassador’s secretary, but which was in truth an armed decoy. I was in one of the cars following, and when we returned fire, one of the terrorists shot me.” Lex indicated his left lower leg. “I was hit just below the knee, and I fell away from cover into the line of fire. Asabi pulled me away from danger and returned fire with my weapon until the others of my detachment were able to contain the situation. Unfortunately, my injury disqualified me for either active or reserve duty. I was honorably discharged with a citation, two medals, a generous cash disbursement, and a disabled veteran’s stipend, which I have never needed.”
“Impressive. Is that when you began working with the unions at Hobb’s Bay?”
He smiled a little wider. “You know, no other reporter has ever asked me that question. That’s a very astute query.”
“Thank you. Was that when you began working with the longshoreman’s unions?”
He chuckled. “You are also not easily distracted. Yes, that was the beginning of my business career. With Asabi at my side, I fought to become president of the union, and I tried to stamp out the graft and bribery inherent in the organization.” He grimaced and lightly touched a small round scar above and behind his left eye. “As you can see, my efforts did not meet with unqualified success.”
She looked closer. “Looks like a knife wound. Or maybe a broken bottle?”
He nodded. “The bottle broke against my skull. That was the second time Asabi saved me.” He stretched as if shaking off a disturbing memory. “The money I earned during my time in the unions, however, went into real estate hedge funds, most of which paid off quite handsomely and quite rapidly. I also invested in a couple of start-up tech firms. Perhaps you’ve heard of Peach computers and Microdyne software?”
Her eyebrows rose again. “Of course I have. The Planet uses Microdyne software on our Peach network computers. You own pieces of those companies?”
“No longer. I managed to sneak in on both initial public offerings, stayed through three stock splits with Peach and four with Microdyne, then quietly cashed in my holdings and started LexCorp Industries.” He crossed his hands over his stomach and said, “I’m now the fourth wealthiest man in the world, or the third, depending on who’s doing the counting.”
“I see.” Against her nature, she was impressed. “Let’s get some more background information. You were president of the longshoremen’s union from – let’s see, from 1981 until 1984, correct?”
He sighed. “I was defeated for re-election in January of 1984, yes. Fortunately, my financial situation allowed me to move into a management position with my own firm.”
“You spent some long hours at the office at first, didn’t you?”
“I still do. A multi-national corporation such as this one cannot run itself.”
“Don’t you have some good people working with you?”
“Some of the best, of course, but my time is still not my own. In some ways, I prefer it this way, but I believe I may have missed out on some fairly important personal things in my life due to my demanding work schedule.”
Lois tore her eyes away from his warm gaze and glanced at her paper notes again. “Let me see. You mentioned that you have never needed your veteran’s benefits. Does the government still send them to you?”
“Yes. I’ve asked several times if they would discontinue them, but apparently it would be easier for me to die than for the government bureaucracy to change its ways.”
They shared a light chortle. “Then where does it go, Lex?”
“Well, it really isn’t that much, but I have found a suitable place to put it.”
“Where’s that?”
He gazed at her as if considering whether or not to answer, then made the decision. “I will tell you. The Twenty-Third Armored Division Veterans’ Museum and Veterans’ Society needed some renovations to its buildings and asked me for assistance, which I provided. To support them in their ongoing efforts, I simply deposit an amount equal to my monthly benefit check in their account with instructions to do with it whatever the board believes is best.”
She frowned in thought. “Don’t they run a shelter for battered women and children on the edge of Suicide Slum?”
“They do, and I believe the bulk of the money goes there. It is, after all, a most worthy cause.”
“I agree.”
She mentally chided herself to remain objective. It didn’t matter how good he looked – or sounded – it mattered who and what he really was. Lex Luthor might appear to be a hard-nosed businessman with a heart of gold, but her job was to see whatever was hiding behind the facade. And she believed she was getting the real story on the reclusive billionaire. He might be too good to be true, but even if he fell short of her ideal, he was still better than most men she’d known.
And that thought reminded her of her partner. She paused for a moment and thought about Clark and his interview. She hoped he was getting results as good as she was getting.
*****
Rebecca motioned for Clark to walk beside her along the corridor. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to see?”
“Not really. I just need enough information for a sidebar.”
“A what?”
He grinned. She thought for a moment how nice a grin it really was. “Sorry,” he answered. “A sidebar accompanies another article and gives a different perspective on the subject, or focuses on a different angle of the story. For example, I wrote a sidebar on motorcycle accessories for a biker magazine a couple of years ago. They printed it beside a review of several new touring bikes.”
She nodded. “Okay, I understand now. Lois is doing the piece on Mr. Luthor himself and you’re adding information about the companies in general.”
“That’s pretty much it.”
She put her finger to her chin. “Hmm. Why don’t we start with an overview of the LexCorp corporate structure? I think you’ll find it interesting.”
“I’m sure I will.”
She turned a corner and led him to a mural covering one wall of the corridor. “On the far left is a diagram of all the companies under the LexCorp umbrella. There’s LexData, LexLabs, L&L Construction, Luthor News Network, Luthor Technologies, Big L Entertainment, LuthorCorp Properties – “
“Wow. I didn’t know Lex Luthor owned all those companies.”
“He doesn’t actually own all of them by himself, but he’s either the majority stockholder and on the board of directors or chairman of the board with every one of those companies. For example, the new Jackie Michaelson tour starting in Miami in February is being underwritten by Big L Entertainment. Your paper printed the story over the weekend.” She moved two steps to her right. “And the new space station construction sub-projects are being overseen by both Luthor Technologies and L&L Construction.”
Clark nodded. “I see. That’s very interesting.”
He turned to her and smiled widely, but she still picked up on the note of suspicion in his voice and wondered what he might be suspicious about. When she didn’t continue, he said, “This is really good stuff. What else can you tell me?”
She smiled softly. “Just about anything you want to know, Mr. Kent.”
“I thought I was Clark to my friends.”
She nodded once, still smiling. “You are, Clark, you are.”
“Good.” He gestured to the mural again. “Is there anything you know about Lex Luthor that’s not on this chart?”
She leaned back and lifted one eyebrow. “He’s got great taste in clothing and music, and he’s one of the main sponsors of the Metropolis Symphony. He also supports the Metro Ballet Ensemble, but he doesn’t attend their performances very often. He’s more of a blues piano and easy-listening music kind of man.”
“Blues piano? How do you know that?”
She took his elbow and tugged him slowly along the hallway with her. “Last fall, about two o’clock on a Friday afternoon, he sent out a memo that the office would close at three-thirty that day and the entire building staff, along with their families, was invited to a party. He’d rented the Metro Sports Palace for the day and called in several catering companies to feed us. There were three live bands there that night who took turns playing. One was a kind of country-bluegrass group, one was a classic rock group, and one was a four-piece jazz-blues combo. Mr. Luthor sat in on two of the blues tunes with the third group and played piano.”
“Oh? He threw this huge party just to show off his piano skills?”
Rebecca’s laugh pealed through the hall. “No, no! He didn’t want to play, but his friend Mr. Asabi convinced him to give it a shot.”
“I see. How good is he?”
“Not bad, actually. But when he finished the second tune, somebody in the audience yelled out for him not to quit his day job.”
“Interesting. How did he react?”
She smiled up at him. “He laughed as hard as anyone else and came down from the bandstand to shake the guy’s hand and congratulate him for being honest.”
“And, what happened to the guy?”
“Nothing. He got a promotion about three weeks later.”
Clark nodded. “And where is he now?”
Rebecca pulled him to a stop. “You sound like you’d expect Mr. Luthor to take some kind of revenge on him.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, most of the rich people I know of don’t like being teased or made fun of in public.”
“Mr. Luthor’s not like that.” Her smile dimmed. “Nothing bad happened to the guy, Clark. Honest. He’s still working in his new position and doing very well, thank you.”
He lifted his hands. “Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your boss. I’m just doing my job here.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “All right. I’ll try not to get upset with you.” She tugged him down the hallway again. “As long as you behave yourself, that is.”
“I’ll try. Really, I will.”
Her gamin grin returned. “Good. And I’ll try not to be so sensitive about your questions.”
But the question in the back of her mind kept tapping on her forebrain. Exactly what was Clark suspicious of? And was her employer really involved in something bad, or even criminal?
It couldn’t be.
Could it?
>>>10:51 AM
Lois changed the tape in the recorder and restarted it. “That’s quite a lot of material already, Lex. If Perry wants me to, I could probably build a second article out of what you’ve already given me.”
He smiled. “Good. I’m always ready for positive press coverage. I’ve experienced more than enough of the other kind.”
She smiled back but tried to stiffen her voice. “I don’t do puff pieces for anyone and I don’t do hatchet jobs on anyone. I write the truth as I see it.”
“I know you do, Lois. That’s one of the reasons I agreed to this interview.”
She nodded, pleased by the compliment. “Now that we’ve pretty much covered the business side of your life, I’d like to ask you some personal questions.”
“As long as you allow me the right to decline to answer them, I don’t mind.”
She grinned. “Can’t torture the answers out of you.” Then she leaned forward and grinned wider. “Although, if I don’t like the answers I get – “
His expression went flat and he spoke in an exaggerated monotone. “Oh. Please. Stop. You’re frightening me. Eek. And ‘eek’ once again.”
Lois laughed. “Sorry. Journalism 101, interview guideline number two, don’t scare the interview subject.”
“What’s guideline number one?”
“Go to the bathroom before the interview starts.”
Lex broke into a deep chortle. Lois flipped a page on her pad and said, “I’d like to start the embarrassing personal questions now.”
He lifted one eyebrow in mock sternness. “Oh, yes, please do.”
“Thank you. I noticed in your bio that you’re divorced. Can you tell me how close you and your ex-wife are?”
He shifted on his chair and Lois thought he was going to refuse to answer, but he surprised her. “Our relationship is cordial but distant.”
“Ah. How distant?”
“She lives in and maintains her psychologist’s practice in upstate New Troy and rarely comes to Metropolis, while I rarely travel upstate. Our cordiality is better maintained under such distances.”
“Do you see her often?”
“We are obligated to attend the opening of the Metropolis Ballet each autumn, and one performance of the Metro Opera each spring. Other than that, we both prefer to see each other as little as possible.”
Lois nodded. “I understand. I get along better with my parents now that we’re not living in the same zip code.”
He smiled softly. “Yet another point of contact between us.”
“Yes, it is.” He has a very nice smile, she thought, one she could get used to seeing.
Lois shook herself and glanced at her pad for the next question, which had fled from her mind, crowded out by the sight of the handsome and charming man across the small table from her. “Um, you’ve been linked with a number of eligible women over the past few years. Are any of them closer to you than all the others?”
He waved his hand airily. “No, no, there is no special woman in my life right now.”
Lois tried to suppress the shiver of glee she felt as he said that.
She waited to see if he’d add anything, which he did. “However,” he continued, “I have recently made the acquaintance of one woman who might fulfill such a role. Assuming, of course, she might wish to do so.”
Be professional, she screamed at herself. Ignore the flirting!
Shut up, her self muttered back.
She leaned back. “Perhaps we can delve into that subject in more detail over lunch.”
Lex smiled and looked at his watch. “It’s almost eleven now. Would you like to freshen up before lunch, or do you prefer to continue our interview?”
‘Our interview,’ she thought. She wondered just who was interviewing whom.
This was her interview, she decided. “No, let’s continue. You have extensive holdings near Suicide Slum, don’t you?”
His eyes flickered in surprise. “Well. You’ve managed to surprise me yet again, Lois. Not many people know about those particular properties.”
She flipped over several pages in her notes. “You own them through, hmm, let’s see, Vulcan Development?”
He nodded slowly. “That’s correct.”
“Can you tell me what you plan to do with those properties?”
He appeared to have recovered his equilibrium. “Refurbish, renovate, or replace the buildings over a period of time, and raise the standard of living for those who occupy homes or businesses in that part of the city.”
“I see. What steps have you taken so far?”
“I’ve acquired title to most of the properties I wanted, entered into negotiations for the rest, and I’ve laid out plans for the area, plans which I really can’t divulge as yet.”
“Oh. Have you set a date for announcing those plans?”
“My associates and I are looking at mid-spring or early summer of next year. There’s still a great deal of work to do.”
“Will you keep me informed on that project? It sounds like it might be something you could use some media help on.”
Lex frowned in thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “We have an excellent ad agency lined up to begin our publicity campaign, but we could also use a reputable hard news organization on our side.”
Lois lifted her hand. “I can’t promise anything right now, of course, and anything we print on the subject would have to go through Perry White, but if this whole thing is good for the city, I think the Daily Planet would support it.”
He smiled. “That sounds like a fair deal to me. When the time comes, I’d like to meet with Mr. White and discuss what we might be able to do for one another.”
She pointed her pencil at him. “I have to warn you that Perry is an old-fashioned newshound. He won’t do any quid pro quo deals unless everything’s completely on the level. The only thing he prints on the news pages is real news.” She lowered her pencil and locked eyes with him. “And I feel exactly the same way about it.”
He returned her probing gaze without flinching. “Good. My experience with the trade unions notwithstanding, I prefer to deal with honest people myself. I find that it’s too much work to remember what lies I have to buttress with whom.”
Lies? Lois thought. This is crying for a follow-up question. She smiled back and said disarmingly, “I gather that you’ve learned this lesson through personal experience.”
His smile froze and one eyebrow ticked up. “Yes, actually. My ex-wife was – and for all I know may still be – a very convincing liar. She deceived me for quite some months about – well, some things I still prefer to keep private.”
Lois’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m sorry she hurt you.”
His face relaxed and he leaned forward. “I imagine that you’ve also deduced that she’s part of the reason there are no women in my life currently enjoying any kind of permanence in status.”
She nodded while noting the formal structure in his response, thinking that Dr. Friskin might say that such formality was a way of distancing one’s self from the hurt. “It’s a natural reaction. But you do understand that there are honest and trustworthy women around, even in Metropolis, right?”
“Of course. I employ a number of them, and you are personally acquainted with one in particular.”
Lois frowned. “I am?”
“Yes. Rebecca Connors, LexCorp’s main receptionist.”
She laughed. “Oh, yes, of course! I think of her as a friend and not as a LexCorp employee. She’s a very nice girl.”
Lois watched Lex’s face as he responded to her last comment. “Yes, she is. She’s destined for bigger and better things than our main reception desk, though.”
Lex thought Rebecca was on her way up? Which way up was she taking? And was it possible that she was the one Lex was really talking about earlier?
Lois tried to keep her tone light. “Oh? What things are those?”
“Her studies, of course, and her future career as a marine biologist. She’s doing quite well, and since I don’t own any businesses or scientific laboratories doing oceanographic or ocean life research, I fear she’ll leave us before much longer. And she has been a most valuable asset to the company since she began with us.”
Lois tried to keep her sense of relief at his impersonal description of Rebecca from showing. Then she mentally berated herself for being relieved. Dummy! she told herself. Remember what I told you! Don’t get involved with the interview subject. Stay objective!
Shut up, her self retorted again.
She tried to regain the upper hand once again. “You promised me some inside information about Mr. Miller’s biography today. Is that information still to come?”
“Of course,” he responded warmly. “Glenn Junior is one of my best friends, and Glenn Senior has been almost like another father to me. I will tell you what you may print, and then – if you are properly impressed – I will tell you some stories that may not be included in the upcoming publication.”
Try not to be too impressed, she admonished herself.
Will you please shut up! she responded mentally.
“That sounds like it would be an interesting lunch topic. Could I go back to a more commercial subject for now?”
“Certainly. What would you like to know?”
“Your announcement last Friday evening about the assistance you were offering to the space station project has sent some pretty big ripples through the financial markets. Do you think that you might have destabilized the Dow Jones average?”
“In very short term, perhaps, but the market is bigger than anything Lex Luthor can throw at it. I know that there have been some rumblings about me from some of my competitors, but on the whole I believe in what we’re doing with and for the space program. EPRAD certainly seems to be grateful for our assistance.”
Very nice, she thought. He didn’t take personal credit for the good things, and he managed to be almost disparaging of himself in comparison to the financial world altogether. Yet he had to know what impact his actions would have on the markets.
As she opened her mouth to ask another question, the door through which Lois had entered opened and Nigel St. John walked in. He made momentary eye contact with Lois and nodded microscopically, then turned to Lex and said, “Pardon me, sir, but Asabi wishes to know whether your luncheon will be delayed. Something to do with the roast duck remaining moist, I believe.”
Lex smiled at him. “Thank you, Nigel. Lois, are you ready for lunch?”
“As long as I get that wash-up break you promised me, sure.”
“Excellent.” He turned back to the tall Englishman. “Please tell Asabi that we’ll join him in the dining area within ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nigel turned and glided out of the room. Lex stood and offered his hand to Lois, who turned off the recorder and stood with him. “My private dining balcony is through the far door at the end of the hallway. The entrance to the ladies’ facility is on the left wall, perhaps ten of your delicate paces along.”
“Thank you, Lex.” She preceded him into the hall and took ten delicate steps to the door of the ladies’ room, clearly marked with a framed photograph of an anorexic perfume model Lois thought she recognized. It struck her as sardonically funny. She glanced across the hall and saw the men’s room door wearing a cover shot of a Gentleman’s Quarterly model with smoky bedroom eyes.
She wondered if Lex ever laughed at himself when he entered that room. Or if he ever thought about laughing. Or whether or not he considered the photo entirely appropriate for a facility which had only one main user.
She also wondered how many other lunch companions – or dinner companions, for that matter – had taken those same ‘ten delicate paces’ down that same hallway to that same door against which she was now leaning, and how that piece of information might impact her future, either for the short term or the long term.
After a moment’s contemplation, she decided she wouldn’t worry about it for now.
Maybe she’d worry about it later. But not now.
