Chapter Twenty-One
>>>Saturday, 11:23 PM
With her arm comfortably settled in Lex’s, Lois meandered along the brightly lit street. Without looking over her shoulder, she knew Asabi was in the car pacing them, watching over them, but keeping a discreet distance.
“Did you enjoy the concert, my dear?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I did! Glenn Junior’s band playing with the Anderson Sisters singing? Who wouldn’t enjoy that?”
“I’m glad you’re having a good time.” Lex pointed to an upscale restaurant and bar near them. “How about a nightcap?”
She grinned and clutched his arm. “Okay, but just one. It’s getting a little late.”
“Ah, but the night glows fair when my lady is near.”
She giggled. “Either I’m so tired that I’m punchy or else that was very romantic.”
He guided their steps towards the entrance. “I was actually aiming for the latter.”
“I think you hit the target.”
He laughed. She really liked his laugh. It was full, strong, confident, yet lacking any hint of swagger or arrogance. If he was really as he seemed tonight, he was a wonderful man.
The building was full but not jam-packed. The pulsing dance music inside was a jarring contrast to the swing tunes they’d heard earlier, and the volume made conversation difficult. They walked in and made their way to the crowded bar. A couple to their right noticed them and made room. “Thank you,” Lex smiled at them.
“No sweat, hombre. Hey, you was in the Miller concert, right?”
Lex smiled at the short, broad Hispanic man. He seemed familiar. “Yes, we were. We had fourth row seats, almost exactly in the center.”
“Yeah, good place. My chica and me, we was about five rows behind you. Looked like you two had one real good time. You hit the dance floor pretty good, too.”
Lex turned to Lois and smiled. “We did enjoy ourselves thoroughly, thank you. My name’s Alex, and this is Lois.”
The man took Lex’s proffered hand and shook it hard, as if trying to gauge Lex’s strength. Lex’s mouth twitched, and it appeared to Lois that he hadn’t expected the pressure and was barely able to counter it. “Bueno, hombre. My name’s Fernando and my lady here is Rosita.”
“Pleased to meet you both.”
“You two here for the food? We gonna get some dinner. You can join us! It’ll be fun!”
Lex turned to Lois. “What do you say? Shall we join our new friends for a meal?”
Lois looked at Fernando, and then at Rosita. The woman seemed slightly embarrassed and a bit uncomfortable. Lois said, “I wouldn’t want to intrude on you and Rosita. I mean, you’re obviously on a date and – “
“Yeah, but it’s okay! Ain’t it, baby?”
Before the girl could answer, Lois said, “You know, Alex, I have to visit the ladies’ room. Rosita, can you show me where it is?”
“Yes, of course. Please come with me.”
The two women slid away. Lois threw a smile over her shoulder at Lex, who mouthed, “I’ll wait here for you.”
She nodded, then turned to follow Rosita. The relief Lois felt as the door closed and cut off the throbbing rhythm was palpable, but Rosita didn’t seem to share it.
Lois didn’t head for a stall. “Rosita, is it really okay if Alex and I join you and Fernando, or would you rather be alone?” The girl didn’t answer right away. “Look, it’s okay. I understand. You two probably want to spend some time together, and we don’t want to intrude.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just – well, Fernando, he does not like gringos very much, and sometimes when he’s been drinking, he – well, he – he starts fights with them.”
Uh-oh. This was not good. “Look, Rosita, we have to get them apart. Alex is a trained martial artist.”
The girl paled. “Oh, no! I told him, I told him he will get in trouble doing this! I told him – “
Lois grabbed her hand and pulled. “Never mind that! Come on!”
*****
As the two women disappeared into the crowd, Fernando turned to Lex and asked, “What is it with women going to the bathroom together? I never ask my compadres to come and see me go to the toilet!”
Lex laughed easily. “What do you do when you’re not accompanying such a lovely lady as Rosita?”
“I own a construction company. We do lots of work on the south side of town. We just finished a big job for one of Lex Luthor’s companies.”
“Really? That must have paid you well.”
He snorted. “Yeah, it did, but it should’a paid more. Hey, you know, anybody ever tell you, man, you look like him?”
Lex frowned. “Like who?”
“Lex Luthor, man! You look a lot like him.”
Lex rolled his eyes. “If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that, I’d be as rich as he’s supposed to be. My driver’s license says my last name is Winfield. I program computers.”
“Oh, okay. You do look like him, you know.”
“So they tell me.”
Fernando’s drink rose towards his mouth. “You rip people off like he does?”
Lex’s guard went up, but he forced himself to appear relaxed. “I think it’s a bad idea to cheat anyone. That’s certainly no way to do business.”
“You talk fancy like him.” Fernando emptied his drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “You fight like him, too?”
Lex paused for a moment. “What?”
“I ask you if you fight like him.”
“I’d rather not fight anyone. I try to keep away from fights.”
“What if the fight comes to you?”
He frowned. “Why would it come to me when I’m not looking for it?”
“Maybe trouble likes your face.”
“I certainly hope not. My face has seen enough trouble for one lifetime.”
Fernando leaned closer, his alcohol-laden breath surrounding both of them. “I heard that pretty young gringas are good in bed.”
Lex shrugged. “I’ve heard stuff like that, too. Me, I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been in bed with all the pretty young gringas.”
“Yeah?” Fernando seemed surprised that his verbal jab hadn’t drawn a reaction. “You know, you just might be chicken.”
“Are you calling me a coward?”
“Coward, yellow, chicken, whatever. Are you?”
Lex lifted an eyebrow. “Cluck, cluck. I’ll lay an egg if you really want me to.”
Fernando’s brows drew down as if he were trying to maintain his anger artificially. “I think a fight would be a good thing right now.”
“A fight? With me?”
“You see anyone else around here, amigo?”
“I see a lot of people here. Why me?”
“Cause you here talkin’ to me.”
Lex looked around and smiled. “My friend, we have both just heard a wonderful concert, we’re surrounded by people having fun, and we each have a beautiful woman coming back to join us in a few moments. I don’t have any reason to fight you.”
“What if I say I don’t like you?”
Lex shrugged. “Then I will apologize and we will leave.”
“Huh. I was right, you are chicken.”
Lex sighed. “Fernando, I don’t want to fight you. I don’t want to fight anyone right now, but I really don’t want to fight you. I have no reason to fight you. I don’t dislike Hispanic men just because they’re Hispanic, and I don’t like to fight people I’ve just met. It tends to leave them with a bad impression of me.”
Fernando scowled in apparent pain as he thought about it. “You mean, you ain’t scared, you just don’t like to fight, right?”
“I have absolutely no reason to fight you. I’d rather be friends with you.”
Fernando looked at him for a long moment, then relaxed and smiled. “Yeah, hombre, I guess I don’t have no reason to fight you, neither.”
Lex suddenly placed the man. His name was Fernando Vasquez and he’d recently completed a contract to expand the parking areas for several of his business properties. They had clashed sharply over price and schedule but had never met face to face, and although Vasquez had finished the work on time and within budget, Lex’s lawyers had warned him that the man wasn’t happy with the final outcome.
He hadn’t cheated the man, Lex insisted to himself. It had simply been a very tense negotiation, and Lex Luthor was nothing if not an effective negotiator.
Lex suspected that the man’s unhappiness had little to do with any recent business dealings, with himself or with anyone else. He also suspected that if he’d confessed to being Lex Luthor, there would have been no way to avoid testing his combat skills against the very solid-looking younger man.
He put his hand on Fernando’s shoulder and said, “Why don’t we find a table and have that dinner together?”
Fernando looked sheepish. “Hey, man, you know, I was kinda buggin’ you, tryin’ to get you to fight, cause you remind me of – of somebody I don’t much like. But you’re not gonna fight, and I’m sorry ‘bout tryin’ to get you to. You’re the smart hombre tonight. Guess it was the whiskey talkin’.”
Lex nodded. “I understand. Tell me something, Fernando, would you and Rosita rather be alone?”
Fernando smiled. “Yeah. You don’t mind so much, right?”
Lex winked at him. “A quality lady needs quality attention. You don’t need us robbing you of your quality time with her, and I can tell that Rosita is surely a quality lady.”
Fernando smiled wider. “Yeah. Yeah, I gotcha. Quality time, right.” He extended his hand again. There was far less tension in his face and shoulders, and this time there was no challenge in the handclasp. “Thanks, Alex. You’re a cool dude. You take care, right?”
Just then Rosita and Lois returned from their errand. “Hey, Rosita!” Fernando turned and kissed her soundly. “I’m sorry, querida. Me and Alex, we gonna take a rain check on the dinner together. It’s just you and me now, okay?”
Rosita smiled in relief and nodded. “Sure, Nando. Lois, I will see you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
Lex and Lois watched as the couple headed towards the dining area, each with an arm around the other. Lois leaned close and asked, “What did you boys talk about while we were gone?”
“Oh, nothing, just some guy stuff. Nothing you’d be interested in.”
“Uh-huh.” She kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Let’s get that nightcap and get out of here, okay?”
As they waited for their drinks, Lex realized he might have made his best impression on Lois at that moment by not behaving as a studly stud and a manly man but by being a peacemaker instead. Even if he had won the fight with Vasquez, he probably would have lost Lois.
And that, he suddenly realized, was a trade-off he would never be willing to make. He decided he’d think about this moment for years to come. He’d etch it in his memory as one of his most favorite moments.
He’d remember it as the night he’d fallen deeply, completely, and irretrievably in love with Lois Lane.
*****
Rebecca smiled at Clark as he moved towards the door. “I’m sorry I was such a drama queen tonight, Clark. Thank you for being such a gentleman.”
He took her hand and held it gently. “You’re welcome. And thank you for such an interesting evening.”
It was an indication of her easy trust in him that she only chuckled lightly. “You’re welcome, sir. Before you go, do you have any suggestions for our next movie night?”
He frowned in exaggerated concentration. “Does that mean you’re not picking the title?”
“It means I’d like your input on it.”
“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin. “Needs to be something straightforward and non-threatening, maybe a Jerry Lewis comedy – “
“Stop it!” she laughed. “Look, you pick this one and I’ll pick the next two. What about that?”
“Sounds good to me. When should we do this again?”
She leaned closer. “What about next Friday at your place, and I’ll bring Chinese?”
He smiled easily. “All right. It’s a date, then.”
He turned to leave, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Just as long as you understand that you’re allowed to call me between now and then.”
“I understand that. Good night.”
“Wait! You have to pick a movie.”
“Right now?”
“Of course.” She assayed a tentative smile. “So I’ll know how many handkerchiefs to bring with me.”
He nodded. “How about ‘The Princess Bride’?”
She tilted her head to one side and frowned. “Really? I saw that one with a girlfriend when I was a teenager. I couldn’t get into it.”
“I thought you said your parents didn’t let you go to movies.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I see you were paying attention after all. No, I was living with the foster family by then.”
“Well, now that you’re older and wiser, you’ll understand all the subtlety and the tongue-in-cheek nuances of the film.”
Her mouth twisted in a slight grimace, then she smiled. “Okay, if you say so.”
He lifted her hands to his lips. “Good night, Rebecca.”
“Good night, Clark.”
He turned to go, but she stopped him again. “Clark?”
“Yes?”
“Did you – did you and Lana watch that movie together?”
“You mean ‘The Princess Bride’?”
“Yes. Did you?”
Uh-oh, he thought. “Yes, we did.”
“Did you both like it?”
He hesitated, then answered, “Yes. We both liked it very much.”
She nodded and smiled. “Then I want to see it with you. Good night, Clark.”
And she gently closed the apartment door, leaving him with yet another piece of the puzzle that was Rebecca Connors.
*****
Rebecca locked the door and leaned against it for a long moment. Then she pulled her journal out and began writing.
~~~~~
Oh, man, J, I think I really blew it with Clark! I totally melted down right in front of him, and then I had to tell him about Mom and Dad and my crappy childhood and all about Gary and I just hope he doesn’t disappear forever!
If he does, it’s my mom’s fault. When I was a kid, she kept telling me that I was a loser, that I was crazy, that there wasn’t a man alive who’d spend time with me if he knew what I was really like, and I almost screamed when I heard him knock on the door!
He said he’d call me back, that we’d watch a different movie next time, but I don’t know if I’ll ever hear from him again. I probably scared him off with that horrible performance!
And it’s all Mom’s fault!
Oh, well, if he can’t handle me when I’m a little over the top, he’d never be able to stand me when I’m completely nuts. It’s better for both of us that we find that out now. If he doesn’t call, I’ll know.
It’s better to know.
But he’s the first guy I’ve known since Gary who I thought I could trust. He’s also the first one since Gary who I think I’d enjoy kissing. He’s the first one I’ve met who acts like he thinks I’m a person and not a target. You know what they say about red-headed girls? A guy who was trying to date me in my freshman year at Stanford told me that we make love like rabbits, all the time, and we’re eager to come back for more. He’s the one I slapped, the one who called the campus police on me.
Clark’s not like that. He sat next to me during the whole movie and the only time he moved was to point out something interesting or essential to the plot. He never laid a hand on me, and the only time he touched me was when I grabbed his hand when they flashed that smothered guy on the screen. Even then he didn’t take advantage. When I pulled my hand loose, he let me go, not like he was yanking his hand away, but like he was letting me be in control.
I don’t remember when I’ve known a guy like that.
I think I love him.
I really hope he calls back.
I really think I’m in love with him.
I can’t write any more, J.
~~~~~
She tried not to, but she still cried herself to sleep that night.
*****
Lois smiled at Asabi as he helped her out of the car. “Thank you, Asabi.”
Asabi smiled back warmly. “It is my pleasure, Miss Lane. I hope I have the privilege of being your driver again soon.”
She glanced back at Lex as he straightened. “Oh, I think you will.”
Lex smiled at both of them. “Are you two talking about me behind my back?”
Asabi bowed slightly. “Never, my friend.” He sent an impish grin towards Lois and said, “I believe the lady is ready for you to see her to her door.”
Lex lifted his eyebrows. “You are my driver, my friend, my protector, and my personal assistant. I think that adding ‘nag’ to your list of job titles would be one more than you could handle.”
Asabi bowed again. “I submit myself to my employer’s superior wisdom and knowledge.”
Lex looked at Lois. “You see what I have to put up with on an every-day basis? The man drives me mad, mad I tell you!”
Lois laughed and took Lex’s arm. “Come on, walk me to my door. Isn’t it worth it to be away from him for a few moments?”
“Of course. Asabi, please wait here.”
He bowed yet again. “Your wish is my command, sahib.”
Lex chuckled and turned towards Lois’s building. “Now, let me see, which apartment is yours?”
“The one my key fits.”
“Oh.” He pulled open the front door of the building. “So, do we try the key in every door until we get lucky?”
She laughed. “I give up. I’ll show you where I live.”
He smiled back as he pressed the elevator button. “Too late. I picked you up at your front door, remember?”
She lifted the corsage to her face and inhaled the fragrance. “Mmm, yes, I remember.” The doors slid shut and she stood a little closer to him than necessary. “I have a feeling I’ll never forget it.”
Lex put his arm around her waist. “How quick is this elevator?”
Lois opened her mouth and the car dinged. They laughed and exited.
She fished out her key and slowly inserted it into the first lock. “Wow. I have had an extremely good time tonight, Lex.”
He glanced at his watch. “Actually, that was last night. It’s nearly quarter past one tomorrow morning.”
“Really? I hadn’t realized how late it was.”
He smiled. “That usually means that a good time was had by all.”
As the door swung open, he leaned closer to kiss her, but stopped before their lips met. Her eyes fluttered for a moment, then she closed the distance between them for a soft, lingering kiss.
Lex took a deep breath. “Is that your idea of a good-night kiss?”
Lois stopped just inside the door. Her smile faded. “Wait a minute. Lex, I’ve had a wonderful evening with a handsome and attentive man, and I look forward to more evenings like the one we just had, but I’m not ready for anything beyond that. Not yet.”
He straightened and stepped back a half-step. “I’m sorry, Lois. That’s not what I meant. My next line was supposed to be, ‘That’s my idea of a good-night kiss, too.’ I never meant to presume that you and I would – “
She stopped his lips with her fingertips. “Shh. I’m the one who’s sorry. I assumed something that wasn’t true, and I apologize for it. And yes, that’s my idea of a good-night kiss. Let me remind you of it.” She leaned close to him and repeated her actions.
When time finally resumed its normal progress, Lois touched him tenderly on the cheek and said, “At least, that’s my idea of a good-night kiss right now.”
She glided into the apartment and gently closed the door. Lex stood there staring at the door for moment, then sighed deeply and smiled widely.
He meandered back to the elevator, softly singing to himself, “This could be love, babe, this could be love, fly like an eagle, soft as a dove.”
Oh, well, he thought, the feeling’s more important than the words, anyway.
When he returned to the limo, Asabi said nothing as he opened the door and reflected on his friend’s slightly stunned smile.
>>>Sunday, 5:54 PM
Clark leaned back on his sofa, a huge glass of iced tea in his hand. He sipped it as he stared at the wall and thought about Rebecca.
She was a few months older than he was, but until the previous night he’d thought that she was less experienced in life’s pains than he was. Now he knew that she’d gone through far more emotional turmoil and strife than he had.
His biological parents had sent him to Earth from Krypton, sent him away from them, but their purpose was to save his life, not remove an irritant from their own lives. And his adoptive parents had never been anything but completely supportive and loving and had accepted all of his differences without question.
Rebecca had been rejected by the people whose love she’d craved the most. Many teens in her situation would have given up on life completely, or reacted by rejecting everyone who tried to love them, but instead Rebecca had used the pain of her rejection to drive her to success.
But what had been the cost? He already knew that her emotional state was fragile when the right buttons were pushed, but on the other hand he wasn’t much different. If she had pressed him hard enough for details about how much he missed Lana, he might have been the one to need a towel to cry into.
But where he was driven by compassion and a desire to see justice done, she was apparently driven to succeed by her memories of rejection and her resentment of that rejection. People who were driven by anger eventually ran out of it and either found another reason to continue or they broke apart emotionally, and Clark couldn’t tell where Rebecca was on that path.
So what was he supposed to do? Would it be fair to Rebecca to keep seeing her if he knew the relationship wasn’t going anywhere? Did he even know the relationship wasn’t going anywhere? Or was that even the question he needed to ask?
He pondered that last for a moment, then decided that he didn’t know what the future held for him. He didn’t know if his link with Lois meant that they would – someday in the far, far distant future – have a romantic relationship together, or if they’d simply remain close friends. And he had no real thought of a permanent relationship with Rebecca, at least not at this point.
He wasn’t sure if having any kind of romantic relationship was in his future, but he didn’t think he was cut out for the solo bachelor life. He’d had a good taste of living alone over the past half-year, and he didn’t care for it. He hated not having anyone to talk to about his work or what Superman had done that day. He hated cooking only for himself. He hated picking up the TV remote and not having anyone to turn to and ask what she wanted to see. He hated waking up in his apartment and being the only person making noise in the morning.
And he hated sleeping alone.
There was no way he’d marry any woman – or just have one move in with him – just so he’d feel less alone at night. That would have been a totally stupid move, possibly the worst one he’d ever made in his entire life, worse than when he was ten and stole those watermelons from Wayne Irig’s patch and had dropped them and fallen on the pieces when he’d thought he was about to be caught. The moisture from the melons had soaked his jeans and his shirt, and as soon as he’d come home his parents had known exactly what he’d tried to do. And they’d made him apologize to Mr. Irig and had made him pay for the melons he’d stolen or damaged, which had pretty much depleted his junk food account for the fall.
He shook his head and smiled at the memory. Then he tried to imagine how Lana would react if she could speak to him.
Nothing. He could barely envision her beside him. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, and it bothered him that at that moment he couldn’t see her face clearly in his mind.
What did that mean? Was he ready to move on? Had enough time passed? Had he grieved enough, or was that a process that would go on forever? Was there room in his heart for another woman? If so, was Rebecca the woman to fill that space? How would he know?
He shook his head again and sighed ruefully. He had all these questions and no real answers. Like his mother had told him, just being an adult doesn’t mean you automatically have the right answers to life’s little puzzles.
A sharp thwack on his front door intruded on his mental meanderings. Clark glanced up and through his front door to see Jimmy waiting for him to answer the knock. Maybe, thought Clark, we’ll have some information on Alex Winfield.
Anything would be better than what I’ve been thinking about, he mused.
He opened the door and greeted his friend. “Hey, CK! I got a bunch of stuff for you! You’re gonna like this!”
Clark took the folders Jimmy offered. “Thanks. Have you eaten? I can get a pizza here in just a few minutes.”
Jimmy grinned and gave him a two-handed point. “Thanks, man, but no thanks. Morgana’s waiting for me in my car. We’re going dancing tonight!”
The youth spun on one toe to show off his garments. “Yeah, you are spiffed up, aren’t you? Okay, Jimmy. Just be on time and alert tomorrow morning.”
“Hey, man, this is the Jimster! I’ll be there with bells on! See ya!”
Jimmy turned and bounced away. Clark smiled as he heard him singing, “Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight! Whoo! Get down tonight!”
Guard your heart, Jimmy, he thought to the young man. Guard your heart.
And get some singing lessons.
Clark shut the door and sat down with the files. He decided to check out Roger Bean first, and as he suspected it didn’t take him long. Bean had never been married, had never been arrested, had never even been in court at any time as far as Jimmy could discover, and had led an exemplary life since he’d received his doctoral degree twelve years before. He’d worked at the museum for six years, and the museum as a whole had undergone one major expansion and two smaller ones under his leadership. Except for a pattern of substantial foreign bank deposits from other foreign banks, and a flurry of phone calls from either his office or his home to a pair of now inactive numbers, there was nothing that Clark didn’t already know.
Unless they could unearth the previous owner of those phone numbers, they were at the end of the trail with Roger Bean. Clark made a note to ask Jimmy to work on that item before he closed that folder with a sigh and set it aside.
Then he picked up the other folder and hefted it expectantly as he opened it. “Let’s see who you really are, Alex Winfield.”
Age listed as thirty-seven. Six feet tall, weighing one hundred and eighty-three pounds, brown hair, no tattoos, amputations, visible scars, or other distinguishing marks. There was no driver’s license photo in the file, and Clark made another note to ask Jimmy about it in the morning.
Home address, 2294 Pecos Drive, apartment 8-B. Clark checked the city map, and sure enough, Winfield lived in a LexCorp property on the far west side of town. Phone, Internet connection, cable TV, standard utilities, all in order. He had a gym membership at a fairly pricey, very exclusive club downtown, and he appeared to use the facilities regularly. But then Clark lived in a LexCorp property, too, and aside from not having a gym membership his utilities were set up just like Winfield’s were.
Clark turned the page. Winfield had both savings and checking accounts at New Troy State Bank, along with two certificates of deposit, all of which had comfortable but not huge balances. There was no safety deposit box listed, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one, or that he didn’t have a safe in his floor with stacks of hundred-dollar bills stashed in it. The checking account showed regular direct deposits, but not from his employer. They appeared to be U.S. government pension payments. Another item for Jimmy to dig deeper on, he thought.
He had two credit cards, one with a small outstanding balance, and one which showed regular small purchases for meals or convenience store visits, but which were always paid off by the end of the month.
No car loan. No personal loans at all, in fact. That was odd, thought Clark, although much the same could be said about himself, since he didn’t ever borrow money and didn’t own a car. He wondered if Winfield had more money than he could spend, and that reminded him how surprised he’d been when Bob had told him how much Lana’s investments had grown under the artificial intelligence’s artful guidance. Clark would be set to retire at age forty, if not sooner, and would never have to work another day in his life.
He set aside his pecuniary pondering and focused on the file in his hand. Winfield wasn’t married, although a divorce wouldn’t necessarily show up on Jimmy’s first pass through the database. Yet another question for Jimmy to answer, he mused.
He was currently employed by LexData as a systems programmer, and had been on the job for nine years, almost as long as the company had been in business. There was no previous employer listed, but that wasn’t unusual for someone at his current job for that length of time. It would be another job for the Jimster.
Clark chuckled to himself as he glanced over the file, then he frowned. Nothing jumped out at him as odd, out of place, or irregular, and there was certainly nothing illegal in the file. Even if Alex Winfield wasn’t just a pseudonym for Lex Luthor, he seemed to be an intelligent, law-abiding, ordinary man. There was nothing in his profile to indicate that he was anything other than what he appeared to be.
So why was his name attached to so many Luthor deals? Why was a computer geek’s name showing up in large-scale real estate transactions and securities trades? Was he a real person or just a mask that Luthor wore when he needed anonymity?
It didn’t make sense, and the more Clark thought about it, the more he realized that he needed Lois. He needed her insane leaps of logic which so often landed squarely on the right answer. He needed her intensity, her drive, her zeal to solve the mystery in the shortest possible time.
But right now, he wasn’t sure how much he trusted Lois’s objectivity where Lex Luthor was concerned. And it bothered him more than he liked to admit.
So he decided to sum up what he knew. Maybe he could connect some of the dots that way.
First, the people in the Army who’d been selling the guns to the smugglers had been arrested and put in prison. The Army had instituted tighter controls on their armories, and it appeared that no more large weapons shipments were being diverted for nefarious purposes.
Second, the people doing the actual weapons shipping were either dead in the explosion of the freighter or arrested in the cleanup of the museum. Several people had been arrested but later released due to lack of evidence, but they’d all been hourly employees who insisted that they had no idea what they’d been working with or who they’d been working for. And the little evidence the DA had supported those stories.
Third, the money trail from the museum led to several offshore shell corporations and stopped there. The only recognizable name in the whole muddle was Alex Winfield, but he wasn’t listed as a director in all of them, just two. And the money which had come out of the corporations couldn’t be traced to Winfield’s financial records.
Fourth, the name Nigel St. John did not appear in the files which Jimmy had just given him, and he hadn’t shown up in their previous investigations. But that didn’t make sense either, given Nigel’s shady past and his former work with British Intelligence. They’d dug up very little about Nigel from official channels – or from some very unofficial channels – but two of the people Lois’s Uncle Mike had pointed them to had confirmed Mike’s initial assessment of Nigel as a very dangerous man. Still, there was nothing to tie him to the gun-running besides his reputation.
Fifth, the man who seemed to be connected to Lex Luthor at the hip – Asabi – was apparently exactly who he said he was. Everything Lois had gathered about him in her interviews or her conversations with either Asabi or Lex had been independently confirmed. If Lex Luthor was indeed a criminal mastermind, why wouldn’t his personal manservant be involved, at least on the periphery? Asabi’s apparent innocence argued against Luthor’s criminal potential, but it was far from a lead pipe cinch.
Clark blew out a long breath and sat back. There was something missing, something he couldn’t put his finger on, something Lois could surely pick out in a heartbeat.
If only he trusted her enough to talk to her about it.
As he dropped the folder onto the living room table, he admitted to himself that he needed Lois. Without her input, this investigation was just about dead in the water.
And much later, as he wavered in that mystical realm between asleep and awake, the thought crossed his mind that he needed Lois for much more than just the story.
He sailed away to the land of Nod before he could further develop that thought.
