Part 21
The next day was quiet. They had reported their sighting of the Sorcerer to Henderson before heading home the night before – in Lois’s mind ‘the one who got away’ had a title, something to hang a headline on. Henderson had given her a tight smile when she told him. She knew he wasn’t impressed.
Clark seemed tired and distracted, doodling on his notepad as he nibbled on a donut. Lois picked at her croissant and watched him out of the corner of her eye. Over the past few days he’d been getting more and more distant. She had not seen any evidence that he had any powers aside from strength. She figured she would recognize them – the lowering of his glasses the momentary look into the distance. Those were things she had previously dismissed as ‘Clarkisms’ until she realized the truth. He’d been using his special vision and hearing things no normal human could hear.
But something was going on with him, something that he didn’t want to talk to her about.
Jimmy and Cat were bent over their charts again. Lois noted in passing that nearly all the blanks in their charts had been filled in. Jimmy was nearly beside himself in excitement.
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” Jimmy was nearly shouting at Cat. “See here, your mother's half-sister, Elena by your grandfather's second marriage… married, for her third marriage, a man named Stanley Nugent.”
“I never liked that man,” Cat commented with a sneer.
“And Stanley was, in fact, my Great-Aunt Edna's son out of wedlock, by a man named David Wilson, Uncle Dave, who she later married, but not until after her marriage to Uncle Harvey.”
“This is a nightmare,” Cat stated.
Jimmy opened his arms wide as he reached for Cat. “Cuz…! Your place or mine?”
Lois’s observation of Cat and Jimmy was interrupted by Perry’s approach.
“Good piece,” Perry said to her. “I loved the personal angle. Too bad about the Meriwether Award, though. Maybe next year.”
“Thanks, Chief,” Lois said as Perry headed back to his office. She sighed. It didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would to lose the Meriwether. It was who she lost it to that irked her. Linda King at the Gotham Ledger.
Clark’s phone rang and he picked it up. Lois watched as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. He was growing more and more worried as he listened. Finally: “Where are you? Okay. I want you to go straight to the 12th Precinct police station and ask for Inspector Henderson. Got that? Inspector Henderson. Tell him I sent you. Don't worry about Jack. We'll find him.”
“What’s going on?” Lois demanded as Clark hung up and grabbed his coat.
“Could you go down to the 12th and stay with a kid named Denny? He's 13 or 14. I'll check in with you there,” Clark told her.
“Clark, what’s going on?”
“That was Jack’s kid brother,” Clark explained. “Some men came and grabbed Jack.”
“And what makes you think you can find him on your own?” Lois asked. The question came out sharper than she intended. Clark’s shoulders slumped.
“For just a moment I…” his voice faded.
“What, Clark?” Lois asked.
“For just a moment I had an idea on how to find Jack,” Clark said. He sounded discouraged. “But it was nonsense… Superman’s dead.”
“Let’s both head over to Henderson’s office,” Lois suggested. “Maybe he has some ideas.”
-o-o-o-
“You two have a positive gift for stirring up hornets’ nests,” Henderson groused at them. “No, better analogy. You two are walking lightning rods.”
“What did we do now?” Lois asked.
“Do you know anything about Jack?” Clark asked at the same time.
Henderson gave them both a bemused look. “The kid’s fine. Just a little shook up, that’s all,” the officer answered Clark’s question first. “After you told me the connection between the break-in at your place and the Sorcerer, we managed to convince young Mister Miner to carry a tracking device.”
“And?” Lois prompted.
“And, my people were able to follow him and his abductors and affect a rescue before things got out of hand,” Henderson explained.
“And the Sorcerer?” Clark asked.
“We’re still questioning the two that grabbed the boy,” Henderson said. “So far they don’t seem to know anything useful, but every little bit helps. We will catch him, you know.”
“Hopefully before he comes after me to find Beaufort’s ring?” Clark asked.
“Hopefully,” Henderson agreed. “Just remember to watch your backs.”
-o-o-o-
By the time Lois and Clark made it back to the newsroom, Cat and Jimmy had put away their charts and Cat was hard at work writing something. Lois had no idea what.
Jimmy sauntered over to the older woman’s desk and Lois stopped to watch and listen. “So... When's the big night?” Jimmy asked Cat.
Cat sighed and turned to face him. “I've been meaning to talk to you about that,” she said with a little pout. “I think I'm going to have to declare the bet null and void.”
Jimmy’s jaw dropped. “Null and void?”
“Jimmy, I've always thought you were kind of cute. And, if before, you'd told me that you also found me attractive, who knows what might have happened? But, now that I know we're related by blood, I can't go through with it. After all...” She patted him on the cheek like an old maiden aunt. “…we're family.”
Cat stood and strode off, leaving Jimmy staring after her. “It's not illegal!” he called.
“Poor Jimmy,” Clark said, settling in at his desk. “So close and yet so far.”
“You know she was just stringing him along, right?” Lois asked.
“The question is: when will he figure it out?” Clark responded.
Lois sighed. “I’ve never liked those games.”
“Then don’t play them.”
“Sometimes, there’s not much choice. We both know that.”
-o-o-o-
Another cold morning. Even the newsroom seemed cold and Perry’s irritable attitude wasn’t making things any better. Jimmy was in the corner listening to the new police scanner while the rest of the staff gathered around Perry and an easel someone had set up with copies of the Planet and the Star pinned up with some sales charts. The Planet’s headline read ‘Council to Debate Coliseum’. Not the most scintillating headline, Lois had to admit, but it was an important debate dealing with whether or not the city should agree to build the Metropolis Tigers a new playing venue against the threat of the Team moving to Coast City.
The Star’s headline was pure checkout stand tabloid: ‘Crooks 1, Cops 0!’ Most of what was in the article was equally overblown.
Perry gestured to the easel. “The sales department just sent this little reminder down. I'll make it easy. It says that since Preston Carpenter bought the Metropolis Star and started throwin' his money around, the Star's selling twice as many papers as the Planet, news stand and subscription. Anybody know how?”
Lois couldn’t help herself. “Bigger type, smaller words?”
Perry glared at her. “Uh-uh. Carpenter's got people out-hustlin' us on the streets, Lois. In the last month they scooped us on nearly every major news story in this city. Now what am I going to lead the next edition with that's gonna change that?”
“Secretary Wallace is in town to sign that nuclear arms treaty with Omir,” Clark said. “We're waiting to hear on a one-on-one.”
“I can see them lining up at the news stands for that,” Lois commented. She couldn’t help it. This wasn’t the first time a competitor had threatened the Planet’s standing as number one and wouldn’t be the last. Perry had to be overreacting.
“You got something better?” the editor growled at her.
“Police charity scams?” she suggested, knowing that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. But except for the Ides of Metropolis computer virus attack, there simply wasn’t much happening in the city aside from the usual fires and murders.
“At least it's local,” she defended herself.
“People, people,” Perry shouted to get everyone’s attention. “For fifty years the Daily Planet's been the top dog in this town and the Metropolis Star's been the dirty little puppy nippin' at our heels. Now I don't mean to be an alarmist, but if we don't start getting some big stories of our own, the faces around here may start changing. We need a good scandal, or a crime wave or a...”
“Hotel fire!” Jimmy yelled from his station.
“That'll do,” Perry agreed.
“Police scanner,” Jimmy explained, pointing to the device. “There's a woman trapped on a ledge of the Metropolitan and the fire department's ladders can't reach her.”
“Clark, Lois! Shake some tail!” Perry ordered.
Without another word, Lois grabbed her coat, purse and notepad. She ran to the elevator without even checking to see if Clark was following.
-o-o-o-
The Metropolitan was one of those high-rise hotels that had started out posh but was now running down at the heels for various reasons – disinterested ownership, the economy, the high cost of competent labor, whatever the blame game chose for that day.
Dark smoke poured out of the upper story windows, darkening the sky. Lois maneuvered her jeep into an alley and set out on foot the last few blocks to the scene. Clark was right beside her, but occasional glances in his direction told her he wasn’t faring very well. He was keeping up with her, but he was pale as he watched the smoke and flames.
He gasped and she followed his gaze back to the Metropolitan. Something was falling from the building. The object disappeared, hidden by equipment and fire-fighters. Lois realized with a lurch that it had probably been the woman who had been trapped on the thirtieth floor.
She heard retching and looked back to see Clark throwing up.
“Clark, maybe they had that balloon thing out for her. We don’t know she’s dead,” Lois said, guessing what was wrong. There was a chance she was right and the woman had survived. Of course Superman would have been able to save her easily, almost without thinking, assuming he was around anymore.
Another block and they were among the bystanders watching the firefighters.
Lois caught sight of an unpleasantly familiar face. The blonde woman was chatting cheerfully into a cell phone.
“What are you doing here?” Lois demanded.
Linda King smiled brightly at her. “Nice to see you, too, Lois. What's it been, six years since graduation? Unfortunately, you haven't changed a bit.”
“Look, Linda, we're not starting that again,” Lois stated. “Where’s Chief Comstock. I’d like to talk to him.”
“You just missed him,” Linda said, still smiling brightly. “He was very helpful. Even gave me a quote for my story about the woman’s death.”
“Your story…?”
“Haven't you heard? I'm working for the Metropolis Star,” Linda said without losing her smile. “And I believe you've just been scooped.”
-o-o-o-
Lois couldn’t believe how wrong her day had gone. First Perry on the warpath because the Star was nipping at their heels, then Linda King gloating over scooping her when a woman had just jumped to her death. Lois tried to focus on her notes and the other papers in front of her as she sipped her coffee in the Planet lobby coffee shop.
“So we got scooped. It happens” Clark was saying. “We just have to focus on the next story.”
“Spare me the Smallville pep talk,” Lois complained “I wasn't just scooped. A hideous part of my past has reared its ugly head.”
Clark managed a chuckle. “Never let it be said Lois Lane doesn't have a flair for exaggeration.”
Lois gave him a sharp look then relented. “I’m sorry Clark. It was just a very horrible surprise seeing her there, especially after… Are you sure you’re okay? No nausea or weakness, anything like that?”
Clark shook his head. “I’m fine. I’m not really sure what happened. It’s not like I haven’t seen people die before. I’ve covered gun battles, even an execution, but this time it was like part of me was saying I should have been able to do something to stop it. Only there was nothing I could have done. At least I didn’t throw up in front of your friend.”
“Linda King is not my friend,” Lois stated firmly. “You don't know this woman, Clark. She has no conscience. She couldn't even spell it.”
Clark smiled and intoned: “It was a dark day for the Daily Planet when Linda King rode into town.”
“Go ahead. Mock me,” Lois said. “But there are no depths to which she won't stoop for a story... or anything else for that matter.”
“Do I detect the scent of jealousy?” Clark asked.
“You detect the smell of a rat,” Lois corrected. A movement on the sidewalk caught her eye and she looked up to see Linda King breeze through the revolving doors of the lobby. “And it just scurried in,” Lois added.
Linda seemed to home in on Lois, striding across the marble floors as if she owned the building.
“Hello, Lois. I thought we could get re-acquainted,” Linda said, stopping at Lois and Clark’s table. Lois ignored her, making a show of reading her notes.
“Or not,” Linda added. She turned to Clark, who had risen from his chair, and extended her hand. Lois seethed as Linda poured on the charm.
“Well, hello. I'm Linda King,” the woman practically cooed.
“Clark Kent,” Clark introduced himself.
“You were with Lois at the hotel fire,” Linda said. “Tragic, wasn’t it?”
Clark nodded. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Linda chuckled, a deep throaty sound some would describe as sexy . “From Lois? Let me guess. No conscience. Will stoop to anything.”
“See?” Lois said, not raising her head.
“She's kidding,” Clark told Linda.
“No I'm not,” Lois corrected. She spotted Linda trying to read her notes and hurriedly shuffled them together. She stuffed them into her briefcase and walked away.
After a moment she realized Clark was still talking to Linda. She was too far away to eavesdrop and she wasn’t going to give Linda the pleasure of watching her move closer. Clark nodded and smiled at the woman and finally, Linda moved off.
As soon as the other reporter was out of sight, Lois hurried over to Clark. “All right, what'd she want? Spill it.”
Clark gave her an innocent look. “She invited me, us, to a dinner Carpenter's throwing tonight. Want to go?”
“How could you accept an invitation from her after everything I just told you?” Lois demanded.
“Lois. We might learn something.”
“I'm sure that's the only reason Clark Kent, All American Boy, is going,” Lois growled. Linda was doing it to her again.
“What time should I pick you up?” Clark asked, ignoring her tone.
“You will not be picking me up,” Lois stated firmly then quickly added: “I'll meet you there at seven.”
-o-o-o-
Lois was still fuming about Clark and Linda when she got to the Metropolis Press Club. She was a member, naturally, but she rarely went to the club unless she was trying to impress friends from out of town – and she had to admit those were few and far between – or when she was attending an award ceremony.
She looked around for Clark amidst the tuxedoed men and fashionably dressed women. A small combo was providing music and a few couples were dancing. She finally spotted Clark weaving his way through the crowd.
“Lois, you look... incredible,” Clark said.
She ignored his complement as she continued to scan the room. “Have you seen Linda?” she asked after a moment.
“No one fields a compliment quite like you,” Clark commented.
Lois continued scanning the room. “I wonder what she's going to be wearing.”
“Wild guess here, but there's more to this rivalry than just who's the better reporter. Right?”
“Don't insult me.”
“I insulted you?” Clark said, sounding surprised.
“There's no question who's the better reporter,” she explained, making it sound obvious. Just then Linda swept into the room like she owned it. She was dazzling with her blonde hair upswept, wearing a designer original gown that had to have cost more than Lois made in a month. Lois grabbed Clark’s arm and turned him away to keep him from watching Linda. “Don't look at her,” she ordered.
Too late. To Lois’s horror Linda had spotted them and was heading over to them.
“Lois, what a surprise,” Linda said with a smile. “You're Clark's date. What else do you do together?”
“I thought you two might enjoy catching up,” Clark said as if to explain.
“What happened, Linda, your date stand you up?” Lois asked.
Linda’s eyes narrowed but the smile remained on her face. “Of course not. Follow me. I'll introduce you.”
She led them through the crowd, chatting as she walked. “I love your dress, Lois. You're so lucky. I can never wear anything off the rack.”
It was all Lois could do to keep from grabbing Linda’s hair. Clark’s hand on her arm was a gentle reminder for her to stay in control. To Lois’s surprise, Linda walked up to Preston Carpenter. Lois took a moment to study the man. He was about Perry’s age, but slender and fit, wearing a crushed velvet tuxedo and carrying an ivory headed walking stick which he waved around as he spoke, almost as if he were directing an orchestra. But there was something cold and calculating in his eyes.
“Linda,” Carpenter greeted her with a broad smile. He gave her a kiss on the cheek before turning to Lois and Clark. “I am at a loss for words to describe her,” he explained.
“I can help there,” Lois muttered under her breath as she tried to put a pleasant smile on her face.
“Preston, I'd like you to meet Clark Kent, a reporter with the Daily Planet,” Linda said. “And Lois Lane. His date. Clark, Lois, Preston Carpenter.”
“Actually, Lois and I are a reporting team,” Clark said, obviously trying to save face for Lois.
Carpenter waved away Clark’s correction. “The Daily Planet was a fine paper in its day. Fine paper. But things change. That's the lesson of life now, isn't it? You either make it happen, or it happens to you.”
Lois had to work to keep the smile on her face and she was certain Clark was having the same problem. The Daily Planet was a staple in Metropolis, an institution. Lois took a breath to begin defending the paper when a gray expressionless man tapped Carpenter on the shoulder.
“The Mayor would like to have a moment with you,” the man quietly told Carpenter.
Carpenter smiled at his guests. “Please excuse me.” Then he and the man disappeared into the crowd.
Lois turned to Linda. “Well, now we know how you got your job,” Lois spat. The accusation didn’t seem to bother the other woman in the least. The band began another tune, a slow dance this time.
“You don't mind if Clark and I dance, do you?” Linda asked, giving Lois a saccharine smile as she held out her arm to Clark.
Clark gave Lois a questioning look but Lois simply shrugged, feigning indifference. She wasn’t about to let Linda King know much she didn’t want her dancing with her partner. Besides, she and Clark were simply partners, right? Just friends?
So why was she feeling so miserable at seeing Linda in Clark’s arms?
-o-o-o-
The next morning was busy and conducted without Clark. She hadn’t realized how much she’d come to rely on him over the past few months until he wasn’t there but Lois had left Carpenter’s party alone and Clark hadn’t called her to fill her in on what happened after she left. That wasn’t like Clark either.
Lois got to the newsroom early, then headed out again. She had a hunch about the Metropolitan fire. Her experience covering fires told her something was off.
It was nearly lunchtime before she got back to the Planet. Jimmy was at his desk reading the Star. Lois ignored him as she headed to her own desk and pulled out her notes. Clark’s desk was empty and she didn’t see him at the coffee machine.
“Where have you been?” Jimmy asked, breaking into her scan for Clark.
“Fire department,” Lois answered. “They think the hotel's a probable arson. I want you to get down there, get me some aftermath photos, investigators sifting through the rubble, that kind of thing.” She eyed the paper on his desk. “Why are you reading that tabloid rag?”
“C.K. got his picture on the society page,” Jimmy told her, opening the paper to the photo in question. “He's dancing with Linda King.”
Lois looked at the photo. Clark actually looked happy to have Linda in his arms. First Paul, now Clark. She felt all the energy go out of her as she fell into her chair.
“I need some good news,” she ordered.
Jimmy shrugged. “Then don't read the bulletin board.”
“Why?”
“The paper's cut out expense accounts,” he said.
“They can't do that!”
“Just did. Memo says it's cost cutting due to lower circulation,” he explained. He leaned closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. “C.K. thinks paid sick days are the next thing to go.”
Lois glanced at Clark’s empty desk again. “Where is Clark?”
Jimmy managed to look miserable, like he was being forced to betray his best friend. “I think he had a lunch date with Linda King. Sorry.”
She sighed. This day was just getting better and better. Now Clark was off with Linda and the farm boy was just naïve enough to fall for the blonde’s feminine wiles.
Lois shoved her notes back into her bag. “If anybody wants me, I'll be at the Fudge Castle. On my own money.”
The Rival was written by Tony Blake & Paul Jackson
