Home: Murder By Earthlight -- 4/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"Hello, Clark," Stephanie said. She glanced around. "Where's your wife?"
"In our room," Clark said. "I'm on my way back now."
Stephanie paused as her companions dispersed in different directions for their rooms and grasped Clark's arm lightly. "Would you like to stop by for a drink?" she purred. "I'm sure Lori won't mind."
Clark gently disengaged her hand. "I'm sure she would," he said mildly.
Stephanie looked annoyed. "Being married doesn't mean you have to be a saint," she protested. "Do you know, back in Brazil, I began to think you were gay. It wasn't as if I was asking for a commitment then, any more than I am now. Or does your little wife run your life that strictly?" she added, taking his arm again and leaning forward to allow him a close look at her cleavage. "I thought you were more of a man than that."
Clark removed her hand again. "You're a very beautiful woman," he said, quietly, "but Lori and I are in a monogamous, lifetime relationship, and I'm sure she would mind what you're suggesting very much." He stepped back. "And so would I. I'm sorry, Stephanie. Good night."
**********
And now, Part 4:
Luna City operated on a 24-hour clock, and the first presentation was due to begin the next "morning" for the conventioneers at what was 11:55 Luna time. Since businesses and life in general on the Moon went on at all hours, this wasn't surprising. Before they left the room for breakfast, which for them was at 10:30, Clark called Zebadiah Kent. Zeb grinned cheerfully at the two of them from the vid screen. He was a tall, good-looking, very dark-skinned man with a set of shoulders that rivaled Clark's. He was also at least five inches taller, Lori recalled from their first meeting at the last family barbecue in July. He resembled his brother, Jonas Kent, but towered over him as well. "I thought we could take a little stroll outside, if Lori's up for it," he said, after the greetings had been exchanged.
"You bet I am," Lori said.
"Good," Zeb told her. "There are always tour groups outside but I can give you and Clark the personal guided tour to places that the regular tourists never see. There's a lot out there besides just bare Moon rock."
"So I've heard," Lori said. "I can't wait."
"Well," Zeb told them, "I'm busy with classes for today -- that's this 24-hour period, Lori, since we don't have actual days and nights on the Moon -- but how about after 1700 next 'day'? Will that do?"
Lori nodded. "That would be great!"
"Good. Come over to my apartment when the presentations are over tomorrow and we'll take it from there," Zeb told them. He glanced at his wrist. "Gotta go. I have a class in ten minutes."
Lori and Clark bade goodbye and switched off. Lori looked into the mirror to check her lipstick and glanced at her husband. "What are you going to do if Stephanie makes another pass at you?"
"I don't think she will," Clark said. "I tried to make my position clear last night."
"I hope she listened," Lori said, "because I'm not going to put up with her horning in on my territory." She glanced sideways at her husband. "And you're definitely *my* territory."
"One hundred percent," Clark assured her. "I don't need to tell you that, I hope."
"Nope," Lori said. "But Stephanie doesn't seem to take a hint very well."
"Stephanie is a woman who usually gets what she wants," Clark said. "She isn't used to being told no."
"I figured that," Lori said. The blond journalist reminded her of a classmate at NTSU who regarded a man's refusal as a challenge. She hadn't received many refusals but the particular incident that Lori recalled had led to a redoubling of her attempts to land the fish in question. She hoped that wouldn't be the case this time, since, as had been noted a number of times by those who knew her, Clark was nowhere near as ruthless as Lori could be when it came to defending her husband. If Stephanie continued to pursue Clark, things could get a bit uncomfortable -- especially for Stephanie. However, she didn't need to mention that to Clark. "If she tries again, you can tell Stephanie that I don't share," she said. "I'd almost forgotten what an uninterrupted night with you could be like." She sidled up to him and rested a hand on his posterior. "You're going to give me an encore tonight, aren't you?"
He grinned. "Count on it," he told her. "Of course, we might not get a lot of sleep."
"Sleep," Lori informed him loftily, "is overrated, believe me."
"Well, I've always thought so," he told her.
"Maybe we could get to bed a bit early tonight," she suggested.
"Sounds good to me," he said. He put an arm around her. "Now, how about we go get some breakfast?"
"Sure," she said. "I'm going to need some coffee to keep me awake during some of the presentations." She turned to pick up her shoulder bag, which contained, among other things, her recorder. "What's the story about Mr. Grey and John?" she asked suddenly. "I meant to ask you last night but events kind of distracted me."
Clark blinked at her for a moment. "Wow," he said. "I may have super speed but you can change a subject faster than I'll ever be able to."
"Yeah, well it's something I want to know about."
Clark gave her a sideways grin and bent to pick up his briefcase. "It's an interesting story. John was a new employee for the Planet when Marilyn was an engineering student at New Troy State," he began. "He was about twenty-seven, if I remember correctly. He'd been trying to get up the nerve to ask her for a date for months, when Tal was transferred to the Planet from the West Coast branch. He was a few years older than John and had an established reputation in the journalistic community but he was also known as a bit of a hot shot. He was good-looking, dashing, and definitely a romantic figure for any young woman. He made quite a play for Marilyn and it looked for a while like John might lose out. John finally came right out and told Marilyn he loved her and it turned out she'd been hoping he'd say something for a while. Tal took it pretty badly."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. He followed her around, waylaid her a number of times, tried to convince her to change her mind. She told John she thought he was stalking her but wasn't able to prove it. She finally told Tal she didn't ever want to see him again. There were several rather unpleasant incidents -- and then he started stalking John."
"You're kidding me!"
"I wish I were. It was a fairly tense situation for a while. John's always suspected that Tal was behind an attempt to mug him and beat him up one night when he came back to his apartment. John never could prove it, but that's what happened."
"So what happened to John?"
Clark raised an eyebrow at her. "John was Lois's protégé," he pointed out. "She advised him, back when he was about ten -- when he told her he planned on trying to be an investigative journalist like she'd been -- that he should learn self defense, just in case. He followed her advice. The muggers ended up with the worst of the bargain."
"I never knew that about him," Lori said.
"He doesn't advertise it," Clark said. "He has a black belt in Tai Kwon Do and another in Aikido. That's one reason why he lived to become the Planet's editor, considering that he modeled his career after Lois's. Anyway, eventually Tal gave up, left Metropolis and became a foreign correspondent -- but he's never given up his obsession with Marilyn, as I think was obvious last night."
"Yeah," Lori said. "Why was he after you at dinner, though? He didn't know about you then, did he?"
"No," Clark said. "I was retired then. I became a freelance journalist about five years later and spent most of my time outside the country. I'm supposed to be that Clark Kent's son, now -- but Tal knows that John's a friend of mine. I didn't say he's rational about it."
"I guess not," Lori said. She shrugged abruptly. "I suppose it wouldn't be us if something weird didn't happen while we're at the convention. It seems a little coincidental that this corporate theft thing at Genie happened just now and Marilyn's old boyfriend just happened to be here. It's funny, but I don't really see how it could be connected."
"Connected," Clark said, looking at her oddly. "Why do you say that?"
"Oh, I don't know. It just seems like a strange coincidence, but I don't see how it could be anything else." She made a face. "Between Stphanie Brook and Talbot Grey, I almost wish we hadn't come -- except that we're in a position to help Marilyn and John over this corporate espionage thing. I hope Marilyn isn't in any trouble over it."
"So do I," Clark said. "I guess after the presentations wrap up this afternoon Superman could fly back to Earth and talk to John. It wouldn't hurt if we heard the whole story -- or as much of it as John knows."
"How are you going to do that?" Lori asked. "Won't they check you in and out or something?"
"Sure. But I'll show up as Superman, not Clark. He doesn't have to wear a tracking badge to enter and exit. He doesn't even need breathing equipment, since it doesn't take him twenty minutes to get to Earth from here."
"I see the point," Lori said. "Okay, maybe that's what we should do, if their investigator hasn't wrapped things up by then."
"Let's hope he has," Clark said. "Ready for some breakfast?"
**********
The hotel's little café was moderately full this morning, largely with members of the journalism convention, although it contained a scattering of people that weren't wearing the journalists' convention badge. As the café's hostess escorted them to a table near the back, Lori saw Edgar Johnson sitting alone at a booth on one side of the room indulging in a hearty breakfast. Pete Swanson, seated at another booth with three other journalists, lifted a hand to them as they passed, and she saw Stephanie Brook, Mona Grant and two male members of the convention sitting at a table near the center of the room. Stephanie cast her an enigmatic glance and turned back to her companions with some remark that Lori couldn't hear. Clark glanced in her direction and his eyebrows slid up.
"What is it?" Lori asked.
"Nothing," Clark said.
A moment later, they were seated at a small table and left to consult the menu. Lori leaned close to her husband and nodded in Stephanie's direction. "Okay, talk. What was that all about?"
"Stephanie's just being nasty," Clark said. He shook his head. "She's telling them that you've got me 'whipped', I believe the term is."
"Oh really," Lori said, surprised at the sudden uncivilized urge to commit violence upon Stephanie Brook's person.
"It's all right," Clark said.
"No it isn't," Lori said.
"It doesn't matter what she says," Clark said peaceably. "The people who know us know it isn't true."
That might be, Lori conceded, but it was small comfort. The chance probably wouldn't present itself, but if it did, Lori had every intention of making Stephanie pay for her ugly gossip. She turned back to the menu, clenching her fists in her lap.
"Honey," Clark said softly, "it *doesn't* matter. People already know Stephanie. Only the ones who don't are going to believe her -- and then not for long." He patted her arm and added with apparent irrelevance, "I'm ready to order. Do you know what you want?"
"I guess," Lori said. With difficulty, she subdued the urge to cross the room and throw the contents of her water glass in Stephanie's perfectly made-up face. "I'm going to have French toast with bacon and eggs, and coffee. And a glass of milk," she added.
Stephanie's party finished and left the café a short time later, which was just as well for Lori's blood pressure. A few minutes after that, she saw Pete Swanson's party depart as well.
Clark was watching her with a slightly worried expression on his face. "Honey," he said softly, "I hate it when you're upset, especially about someone like Stephanie."
"It's all right," Lori said, reminding herself not to grit her teeth. "It just burns me up that she's trying to seduce *my* husband and she's making *me* out to be the bad guy because you turned her down."
"Well, she'd not going to seduce me," Clark said. "I'd have to be crazy to fall for her line, even if I didn't have you. Even comparing the two of you is an insult to you."
Lori smiled at him, feeling somewhat better. Stephanie could try every trick in the book but she was going to be frustrated this time, she thought. Maybe that would be revenge enough. But if Stephanie gave her an opening, she intended to teach the other journalist a lesson anyway.
They placed their breakfast orders and sat back to wait for their breakfasts. Lori saw the man that Clark had identified as Thompkins, the previous night, enter the room with a female companion and take a seat at the table where Stephanie's party had been.
Clark noticed the direction of her gaze. "Thompkins works for the Southern Examiner. I contributed a few articles to his news service a few years ago while I was a freelancer. His editor wanted to hire me on then but I wasn't interested. I was still looking for you."
"I guess you could get a job with just about any paper," Lori said.
Clark shrugged. "I don't know about that." He looked up as someone approached the table and paused beside Lori. Lori turned her head.
He was a chubby man of medium height with a pleasant, bland face and light blue eyes. He was dressed unremarkably in a dark business suit and carried a tan briefcase in one hand. Nothing about him stood out except to what she called her reporter's instinct -- he looked almost too unremarkable to be believed. He smiled at her in a friendly way and looked at Clark. "Mr. Kent, I presume?"
"That's right. This is my partner --"
"Ms. Lyons. My name is Jason Decker -- I was told to tell you that John sent me." He nodded to the empty chair to Lori's right. "May I sit down?"
"Please do." Clark met Lori's eyes across the table.
Jason Decker took the chair and set his briefcase on the floor. "John said that you located Mr. Johnson?"
"Yes. He's here at the hotel," Lori said. "Room 573." She leaned her chin on both hands and flicked a forefinger almost infinitesimally at the man sitting alone at the table against the wall. "That's him, sitting right there."
Jason Decker glanced casually around the room and leaned back in his chair. "I think I'll get a cup of coffee," he said casually. "Yes, I recognize him from his picture. Thanks for the help. I can take over from here."
Lori glanced at Clark. "Can you tell us anything about what's going on?" she asked.
He smiled slightly and glanced up at the pretty waitress who approached the table with a coffeepot. "I'll have a cup, please."
The woman nodded, brought the spout close to the oversized cup and poured coffee. Lori stared in awe at the tiny stream of coffee that emerged from the pot, floated gently toward the coffee cup, splashed vigorously as it hit the bottom and then swirled lazily around almost in slow motion. The ripples rose dangerously close to the brim in spite of the fact that she had filled the container only halfway. The waitress glanced appreciatively at Clark. "Your breakfast is coming now," she said with a smile.
True to the prediction, a young man approached a moment later, guiding a tray of food that was releasing delicious smells of eggs, bacon and maple syrup. Lori was silent as the man set their meal before him, made sure that their water glasses were filled and departed. Then she turned and looked directly at Jason Decker.
He was adding cream and sugar to his coffee with the concentrated attention of an artist, and, judging by the splash that rose from the surface when a final drop of cream fell into the cup, it was probably warranted. Lori glanced at Clark, waiting impatiently.
"Well?" she asked finally. "It might be nice to know what exactly happened."
"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to disclose that information," Decker told her, lifting the cup to his lips. He took a long swallow and lowered the cup. "The investigation is obviously still ongoing."
"We wouldn't report anything until you gave us the okay," Lori protested.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lyons. I'm not allowed to talk about it, but the company does appreciate your help."
As he spoke, Edgar Johnson rose from his chair and made his way toward the exit. Jason Decker watched him for several seconds, finished the contents of the cup in three swallows and stood up. A moment later, he had vanished out the door after his quarry.
"Well," Clark said after a moment, "I guess Plan A is still on. Maybe John can give us something more."
**********
The presentations by various speakers for the morning session were about the caliber that Lori expected. Only two were able to keep her attention without effort on her part, and by the time they broke for lunch she had reached and passed the yawning point.
"Shall we get some lunch and stretch our legs a little?" Clark asked. He looked as bored as she felt.
"Yeah," Lori said. She got to her feet with alacrity and had to grab at her husband's arm to keep her balance. "Oops."
Clark grinned. "Don't look too happy."
"Why not?" she asked, nodding at one of her colleagues who was struggling to get out of the row of chairs without bouncing into the air and smothering a cavernous yawn with his free hand. "I don't think we're the only ones who need the break."
Clark chuckled. "Let's get out of here."
The lunchroom was crowded and after a glance through the door, Clark took Lori's arm. "I know another café a couple of blocks away. Let's go."
The café was billed as an "open air" café, as odd as that might seem. They were seated at a table in an area surrounded by a low hedge from which they had a view of a grassy park where spectacular gardens bloomed with a brilliant display of flowering plants. An irregular pond, dotted with a number of domestic ducks and geese, and at least two swans, floating serenely on the surface, reflected the sunlight filtering through the polarized panels of the dome that arched above them. Lori sipped her iced tea and leaned back in her chair, taking in the view, not the least of which was the sight of Clark, relaxing in the seat across from her.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing. Just admiring the scenery. You look awfully good in that shirt," she added. The black polo shirt, open at the throat, molded itself to his muscular torso and, as usual, sent her thoughts to more earthy levels concerning her husband.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "You're thinking low thoughts," he said.
She laughed. "I thought you said you can't tell what I'm thinking," she said.
"I said I can't always tell what you're thinking," he corrected. "I can always tell when you're thinking about that particular subject."
"I guess that's only fair," she said. "I can always tell when you're thinking about it, too. Of course you think about it most of the time."
He looked wounded. "How can you say a thing like that?"
"Because it's true?"
He snorted. "You know me too well."
Their lunch arrived at this point. Lori watched as he took a bite of his sandwich. "It's too bad we can't skip the rest of the presentations this afternoon, but I suppose it wouldn't be right."
She could see his expression change. "Maybe we could get Vane to take your recorder and record it for us."
"Maybe," she said.
"If we can catch him before the afternoon session starts, we'll ask him," he said. "I can think of other things I'd rather be doing."
They had finished their food more quickly than might have been expected, paid the tab and were headed back for the Luna Hilton when Clark's head came up sharply. With a sinking sensation, Lori saw his expression change. "What is it?"
"I'm hearing a radio broadcast," he said. "There's been an accident at the solar energy collector."
"What happened?"
"One of the tour groups was at the Luna City Power Plant, out on the surface. A tourist stepped over the safety rail and walked right into the solar beam. He was burned to a crisp, almost instantly." He made a face.
A faint prickle of -- was it premonition? -- crept over Lori's scalp. "Suicide?"
"Looks that way."
"Do they know who it was?"
She watched as he cocked his head in the familiar way that told her that Superman was using his super hearing. His eyes met hers. "You won't believe this."
Lori swallowed at the sense of certainty that descended on her. "Edgar Johnson," she said.
"Yeah," Clark said.
**********
tbc
