The Hottest Team in Town: 5/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"What was it all about, anyway?"
Clark shrugged. "Some student was upset because he's failing most of his subjects. He was claiming that the school had it in for him and wanted to talk to the media so he could present his case to the public."
"Well, he'll get his chance," Lois said, dryly. She picked up her coffee. "Better get it written up. Thanks for the coffee, by the way."
"Hey," Ralph said, nudging Clark in the ribs as he went by. "You better watch out. She's seeing Lex Luthor, now. Out of your class, Kent."
Lois rolled her eyes and Clark shook his head. "Thanks for the warning, Ralph."
**********
And now, Part 5:
Lois was still muttering dire threats against Ralph when she and Clark stepped into the elevator and Clark punched the button for the roof. Her objection to driving the subcompact still applied, and so did Clark's. At his suggestion, they took the aerial route to the Precinct to speak with Henderson.
Lois shaded her eyes against the tiny flakes that sifted down. "I hope this doesn't turn into another heavy snow," she said.
"The weather report is predicting less than a foot," Clark said. "Not too bad. Just enough for a Christmas atmosphere."
"This may be the first Christmas that I've enjoyed in a long time," Lois said. "I've dreaded Christmas for so long, it's something new to actually look forward to it."
"Why didn't you like Christmas?" Clark asked. "Your parents?"
She nodded. "For Lucy and me, it was always an ordeal to get through," she said. "Dad and Mother would start out determined to be civil to each other, but they'd always end up fighting. Then Dad would stomp out and Mother would start drinking. Lucy and I would always go up to our rooms with our gifts and pretend everything was normal. It wasn't fun."
Clark shook his head. "I can understand why you feel the way you do," he said. "But that's not the way we do it in Smallville. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."
"You said that Christmas is always the biggest party in Smallville," Lois said.
"It is. You saw the preparations when we were there, last week. Rachel's been getting ready for two weeks and there's still twelve days to go. I hope she and Roy get things straightened out by then."
"You mean that Neanderthal of a boyfriend," Lois said.
"Well, it's none of our business, and she wouldn't thank us for interfering," Clark said. "Rachel's a smart woman. She'll work it out."
"I hope so," Lois said.
"She will," Clark said. "He didn't want her to become the Sheriff, but she did, and he's been trying to talk her into quitting ever since. She's still the Sheriff. Don't underestimate her."
"I guess I shouldn't," Lois said. "He just rubbed me the wrong way, that's all."
"He has that effect on a lot of people," Clark said. "We went to school together, but he and I weren't exactly close friends."
"Jealousy?" Lois asked. "You took Rachel to the prom, didn't you?"
"Yes," Clark affirmed. "Roy flipped his truck out on River Road and Lana had a nice case of poison ivy, so Rachel and I ended up going together. He tried to pick a fight with me about it after he got out of the hospital, but we'd have looked pretty stupid trying to fight with one of his legs still in a cast. Besides, it wouldn't have been fair."
"I guess not," Lois agreed. "I suppose it wasn't easy for you while you were growing up, even in Smallville."
He laughed. "Sometimes I thought I was going crazy," he said. "All those strange things were happening to me. I remember, I accidentally saw through the wall into the girls' locker room when I first got x-ray vision, and I was so embarrassed I didn't go near Lana for three days. But Mom and Dad helped me through all the weird stuff, and after a while I began to realize that what I could do had its positive side. Then, when I was eighteen I found out I could fly. That was definitely a plus."
"Is that when you decided to travel?" she asked.
"No, first I went to Midwest U, and after I graduated I traveled the world for a couple of years. When I had my fill of that, I came home and joined the newspaper staff. Then, we lost our editor, and I kind of got pushed into the job. And ..." He grinned. "Then, Nightfall showed up, and you know what happened after that."
"We've come a long way since the night we met," Lois said.
"That's for sure," Clark said. "Three of the biggest events of my life happened in just two weeks. I met the woman that I've been waiting for, for twenty-seven years, I got my job at the Daily Planet and I went public as Superman."
"And you saved the world from Nightfall," she reminded him.
"No, you did that," he corrected her.
"*We* did it," Lois said, refusing to argue. "It was a partnership."
"That sounds fair," he agreed. "'We', then. I like that better, anyway."
"So do I." Lois reflected that the speed with which she had gone from "I" to "we" had to be some kind of world record, but then, how many women who had their ambitions focussed solely on a career met a guy like Charlie? And that didn't even count the powers and saving the world.
They were slanting downward now, to land in the alley behind the police station. Her partner gave a last quick glance around and spun back into his civilian clothing. "Okay, let's go see what Henderson wants to talk about."
The desk sergeant was apparently expecting them, for he directed them into the back after a disinterested glance at them, and Henderson's voice bade them enter almost before Lois had finished knocking. The Inspector was looking intently at something on his computer screen, and barely glanced up. "Shut the door," he said, without preliminary. "I want to show you something."
Lois obeyed. "What's so urgent?"
"Urgent isn't exactly the word," Henderson said, keeping his voice low. "Normally, I wouldn't be telling anyone this outside the Department, but you and I have a mutual interest here, and I can't do this on my own. I still thought hard before I called you, but I figured since you're already in it up to your necks, anyway, it couldn't do any harm and you might be able to find out some things I can't. Any kind of investigation I do involving that mutual interest is going to be reported to him."
"Are you saying ..."
"There's going to be an investigation from here, of course," Henderson continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "The detective in charge of it will conclude that it was probably drug-related or some other connection having nothing to do with our mutual interest. Eventually, it will go down as another unsolved murder. Unless you're willing to help me. I think it would be to our mutual advantage."
Lois and Clark looked at each other. "Go on," Lois said.
Henderson apparently took that to mean agreement. "A body washed up on the bank of the Hobs River this morning."
"What's so unusual about that?" Lois asked.
"Nothing, usually. His name was Enrique Moran. He'd been tortured to death."
"Oh?" Lois took a seat in one of the chairs facing Henderson's desk. "I take it this is leading somewhere."
Henderson nodded and waved to a folder that lay on one corner of his desk. "Take a look. It's not a pretty sight, but you may recognize him."
Lois glanced at Clark, then reached out and appropriated the folder. Clark sat down next to her, and for several minutes there was complete silence except for the rustle of them shuffling through the photographs. As Henderson had said, they weren't pretty, but there was a familiarity to the man's distorted features.
Clark spoke slowly. "I could be wrong, but I think I saw this man the night of the Christmas Charity Ball."
Lois nodded slowly. "Yes. He served dinner last night during my interview with Lex."
Henderson nodded. "He was one of the servants who worked in the penthouse at LexTower."
"Interesting coincidence," Lois said. "Still, it seems like an ordinary murder case. What has this got to do with us?"
"Let's say, I had a tip from somebody unnamed," Henderson said. "That's why I know who he is. I still haven't put it in my report. Whether I do or not depends on you. Moran stole something that he shouldn't have from the subject of our mutual interest."
"And didn't get away with it, I'd say," Lois said. "Being tortured to death is a pretty stiff penalty for theft."
"The item he took was apparently very hot stuff," Henderson said. "A personal diary. It wasn't recovered. Moran seems to have passed it to an accomplice before they caught up with him."
"This is getting interesting," Clark said. "Do they know who he passed it to?"
Henderson shook his head. "According to my caller, Moran pointed to a guy named Joey 'Fingers' McPherson as the man he gave the item to. We suspect Joey of collecting protection money for the rackets. For some reason, he's still alive, but we don't know why."
"Do you have an address for this guy?" Lois asked.
Henderson rose from his desk and casually handed her a slip of paper on his way to the door. "I don't have to tell you that we never talked about this subject."
"What did we talk about?" Clark asked.
"The lack of progress on Lois's apartment break-in."
Lois nodded. "No doubt that was just a random incident," she said, getting to her feet.
"No doubt," Henderson said. "But watch your backs." He opened the door for them. "Sorry I wasn't able to be of more help, Lois," he said, and she was aware of the blue-clad form of a police officer at the water-cooler a short distance away. "There have been a bunch of petty thefts in that area of town. If anything turns up, I'll let you know."
"Yeah, right," Lois said. "You do that."
**********
"Now that," Clark said, as they once more took to the sky, "was very interesting."
"Very," Lois said. "Henderson must not know who to trust."
"Except you," Clark said.
"So there must be a leak in the Police Department," Lois said.
"Or in the DA's office."
"Maybe both. Luthor's got somebody on his payroll."
"Probably more than one," Clark said.
"Yeah. Now, how are we going to approach this?"
"I'd say, the first thing to do is to check out this Joey McPherson," Clark said. "Moran fingered him as the recipient of the diary, but he's still alive. There has to be a reason."
"Before we do that, I need to talk to Bobby," Lois said.
"Bobby?"
"Bobby Bigmouth. My snitch. I need to call him and arrange a meeting, and introduce you to him, but before we go to meet him, I need to stop off at the deli and pick him up a meal."
Clark's eyebrows went up. "A meal? Is the guy homeless, or something?"
"No," Lois said. "You have to know Bobby. He eats enough to feed an army every day. The meal is his payment."
"Not your usual snitch," Clark observed.
"Definitely. But the guy must have microphones in every crime lord's den in the city. I wouldn't trade him for half a dozen other ordinary snitches."
"I've got to meet this guy," Clark said. "Why don't we stop and I'll pick him up a deli sandwich and salad ..."
"Don't forget dessert," Lois cautioned. "Bobby likes his desserts, the more caloric, the better."
"I figured that. I know the perfect place. You can make the call and I'll get the food."
**********
Making absolutely certain that he wasn't observed, Denny Brown slipped quietly through the broken door of the abandoned building that he and Jack had made their home for the last two weeks. Once inside, he carefully pulled the blanket that hung over the entrance into place to block out the icy wind.
It was dim inside the building. They had a kerosene lantern that Jack had acquired the second day after they'd found this place but it wasn't lit. They were running low on kerosene, Jack had explained. He didn't want to waste it when they got some light through the windows during the day.
Only Jack had pulled the ragged shades over the windows, as well. It helped keep the interior of the building marginally warmer than the outside, but Denny could barely see. Still, he knew the place pretty well. He and his brother had escaped from the last set of foster homes and had hidden in an abandoned subway tunnel for three days, then Jack had found this place. The Nightfall thing had kept the CPS people occupied for a while, and he and Jack hadn't seen any sign of them since, so they had stayed. Denny had no doubt that the authorities were still hunting for the two of them, but Jack and he were on the other side of Metropolis from his last foster home, so maybe no one would find them where they were -- especially if they were very careful not to draw attention to themselves.
But something must have happened last night. Jack had shown up some time this morning before the sun had come up and hadn't set foot out of the building since. He'd even sent Denny to get the food from the fast food place. Something was wrong. Maybe Jack had spotted someone looking for them, Denny thought, but that didn't quite make sense. Who would have spotted Jack in the middle of the night?
Well, he needed to find out what was going on. His brother tried to protect him all the time. It was kind of scary, not to have somebody to watch out for them, but the time when they had really had a mom and dad was long since gone. Denny's father had been killed in a factory fire when Denny was three. Their mother had gone through a succession of boyfriends after that, and none of them cared two cents for him or Jack. Three years ago, she and her latest boyfriend took off for Las Vegas and didn't come back. The CPS people showed up a couple of weeks later when somebody had notified them that the boys seemed to be alone. Then the System had stuck them first in an orphanage and then in separate foster homes. Neither Denny nor Jack had liked the arrangement. Denny had resigned himself to being shuffled from one place to another, but Jack had protested and fought, and earned himself the reputation of a troublemaker. He'd escaped twice, and the last time, he and Denny had managed to get away. There was no way they were going to go back, Denny thought. If the authorities had finally managed to track them to this part of town, they would have to get out of here.
"Jack?" he called, softly. "It's me."
"Did anybody see you?" Jack's voice asked.
"No. I got the food here," Denny added. "Jack, what's going on?"
"Nothin'."
Denny felt his way into the back room. Jack was huddled on the old mattress covered with ragged blankets that the two of them used for a bed, wearing the jacket he'd come home with, yesterday afternoon.
"It's not nothing!" Denny insisted. "You're afraid somebody's gonna see you! What happened last night?"
"Nothing important," Jack said. "I just have to lay low 'til I'm sure the heat's off. What did you get?"
"Hamburgers and fries," Denny said, passing over the bag containing his brother's meal. "I got milkshakes, too. Look, Jack, you gotta tell me what's going on. "It's not the CPS people, is it?"
"No. I saw something last night," Jack said. "They might have seen me, but they didn't get a good look. I just have to be sure nobody's looking for me."
"*Who* saw you?"
"Denny, trust me. It's better if you don't know about it."
Denny shook his head. "I want to know what's going on," he insisted. "I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm nearly twelve. What happened to you last night? Where did you go? And what's in that bag you stuck behind the wall?"
Jack heaved a sigh of exasperation. "That's our way out. As soon as it's safe, we're gonna buy us bus tickets out of town. I figure we'll head somewhere out west like Texas or Kansas or someplace like that. CPS will never find us there."
Denny thought about that. "Don't they have social workers there?" he asked, doubtfully.
"Sure, but they won't be looking for us," Jack said. "We just have to be sure to keep a low profile 'til I'm eighteen. Look, Den, as soon as I'm sure nobody's looking for me, we're gonna get a bus out of town. We're gonna take local buses so nobody can find a trail until we're a good ways from Metropolis. It'll be okay. You'll see."
"Well, okay," Denny said. "But what about last night?"
Jack glowered at him. "This money is protection money a guy collected from some businesses, okay? I took it from a crook and nearly got caught. They might have seen me on a videocamera, but they couldn't have got a very good picture. I had my face down. Anyway, I figure I need to stay out of sight for awhile." He shifted around. "I got something else here," he added. "I think it's a book or something. Whatever it is, it might be worth a lot to somebody. Is the flashlight still working?"
"Yeah. The batteries are still good -- some, anyway. We're gonna need some more, soon." Denny reached under the mattress and removed the flashlight.
"I want to see what's so important about this thing," Jack said. He reached under the jacket and removed a small package. Denny heard paper tear, and then Jack took the flashlight from his hand. A pale, yellowish beam of light came on.
It was a small, bound book, Denny saw, and on the cover in florid gold printing, were the letters LL.
Jack opened it, to reveal pages of neat, close-written handwriting. Denny wasn't good at reading handwriting yet but Jack was. He waited patiently, helping to shield the yellowish beam of the flashlight. Probably nobody outside would notice anything, but he didn't want to take the risk.
"It's a diary," Jack said, finally. He was frowning at the writing. "I can see why he wants it back, too."
"Why?"
"You don't want to know. Denny, you gotta promise me right now that you won't tell anybody about this. I've gotta decide what to do with it." He frowned at the handwriting again, then flipped through the pages. At the top of each page, the date was written clearly in black ink. "Huh," Jack said. "Here's yesterday's date. There's some more pages, but they're blank."
"Whose book is it?" Denny asked. "Who's LL?"
"Don't ask." Jack snapped off the flashlight. "I'm gonna hide this thing with the money." He hoisted himself to his feet and crossed to a spot where a plywood board leaned against the wall. When he removed it, it could be seen that a large hole gaped in the cracked plaster, and he shoved the little book down inside. He leaned the plywood against the wall again, and returned to the mattress.
Denny munched his hamburger without saying anything. Jack dug into the bag of fast food and removed his own hamburger. He took a long slurp on the vanilla shake that accompanied it and then bit into the burger. For several moments, neither boy spoke.
"Den," Jack said, suddenly. "I got somethin' for you."
"What?"
"This." Jack handed him a card. "The guy who gave me the jacket, yesterday, gave me this. It's a business card. He said to call him if I needed help. I didn't figure I did, but now ..." He took another drink of milkshake. "The guy's a reporter. If something happens to me, I want you to call him."
"Nothing's going to happen to you!"
"It won't if I can help it," Jack said. "But if something does, do it. Okay?"
Denny gulped, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Okay," he mumbled, sticking the card into his back pocket. "Don't let anything happen, Jack."
"I won't. I'm just being careful. Call it insurance."
**********
(tbc)
