After that dinner with Ruben, Lois and Caleb were able to put the secret identity issue aside, at least for the time being. Clark knew it would come back to haunt them if he didn’t deal with it, but he was confident that he’d be able to confess all soon.
He had a new job—or rather, Charlie King did—tending bar at a nightclub that was a known front for the Metros gang. He wasn’t certain whether the Metros were in league with Luthor or rivals of his. Either way, he figured that, given Luthor’s recently announced redevelopment plans, he must have several fingers in the Riverfront pie. If Clark kept his ears and eyes open he’d get to know Metropolis’s unsavory underbelly, and that had to lead to Lex Luthor sooner or later. If he got any leads on the arsonist who had been keeping Superman and the Metropolis Fire Department busy all week, so much the better. If he picked up anything newsworthy, he’d be sure to give Lois the tip. That was a lot of if’s, he realized, but he had to start somewhere.
As is turned out, Lois wouldn’t need any tips from him; she was working at the Metro Club as well. So much for not entangling her in the seedy side of Metropolis. It looked like she was perfectly capable of entangling herself without any help from Clark. Whether she was after the arsonist, the Metros, or Lex, Clark wasn’t sure. It took all his self-control not to grin at her the first time he saw her on stage in that chicken get up. As soon as she was out of her poultry costume and back to serving drinks, she let him know that she’d recognized him as well.
Clark watched Lois as she approached the bar and slapped her drink order down on top of her empty tray. “Two highballs and a Long Island iced tea,” she ordered in a conversational tone. Then she leaned forward, affording Clark and anyone else behind the bar a clear view of cleavage, and hissed, “What are you doing here?”
Unfortunately, Clark’s fellow bartender, Gus, came out from the back room just in time to hear Lois’s question. A quick sideways glance informed Clark that Gus had heard and was clearly eavesdropping on their conversation. Clark and Lois locked eyes for a brief moment. He hoped she was good at ad-libbing.
“What do you mean, ‘What am I doing here?’ I work here. Is that a crime?” Clark pretended to whisper, but kept his voice loud enough to Gus to hear.
“No, just an unlikely coincidence,” Lois shot back in the same stage whisper. “You keeping tabs on me?” Although she was clearly acting for Gus’s benefit, Clark couldn’t help but wonder whether her question was real. He tried to reassure her with his answer.
Mixing the drinks while they talked, he said, “I just got back into town and I’m short on cash. This was the first job that came along. How was I supposed to know you’d be working here too? The last time I saw you, you were dealing Black Jack in Atlantic City.”
“Really?” Her tone was skeptical. “So Vinnie didn’t send you down here to make sure his little Lola ain’t got nothing going on the side?” Nice way to slip in her cover name, Clark thought. She’s fast on her feet.
“Nothing doing, toots. Charlie King ain’t nobody’s stooge. You oughta know better than that.” He placed the tall glass next to the two shorter ones and handed her the tray. “Now get back to work, Lola. Those gents look thirsty.”
For the rest of the evening Clark looked for an opportunity to catch Lois alone, even if it was only long enough to sneak in a word about great minds thinking alike. But before he could come up with a viable excuse to leave his post at the bar, the festive atmosphere of the dinner club was shattered by the arrival of four men in fire-retardant suits. Brandishing huge flame-throwers, they announced, “Johnny, you’re a dead man!” in stereo-typical mob hit style. There was no time to change into the Suit or capture the attackers—Clark was too busy making sure everyone got out safely.
At last the flames were out, courtesy of a little super-cool breath. Clark and Lois were the only two people left in the club. Feeling the same sense of camaraderie that had warmed him during their joint investigation at the boxing gym the week before, Clark turned to Lois with a warm smile.
“I really didn’t know you’d be here,” he offered by way of preemptive apology.
“I believe you,” she reassured him, “especially now that I see why you’re tending bar in the Riverfront.” She nodded toward the unmistakable scrawl of ‘Toasters’ spelled out in scorch marks. “I know they’ve been giving you trouble all week, but I didn’t know Superman went undercover to catch the bad guys. How did you know they’d hit here tonight? And why aren’t you out catching them right now?”
With a twinge of conscience that he hoped didn’t show on his face, Clark let Lois’s assumption that he was there to catch the arsonists slide. It was partially true, after all. “I didn’t know for sure,” he admitted. “I just hoped I might pick something up if I hung around the Riverfront, and this job was open.” Belatedly, Clark scanned the street outside before turning back to Lois with a frown. “No sign of them. I should have gone after them sooner, but I was too busy making sure everyone was okay.”
“It’s all right,” Lois reassured him. “You can’t be everywhere at once.”
Clark smiled, relieved that Lois was taking him at his word. Given her reaction after the Gold Depository incident, he knew she wouldn’t appreciate it if he had been sticking his nose into her work in a fit of over protectiveness. “You sound like my mom,” he said. “She said the same thing when I first started out as Superman.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Lois took Caleb’s arm and steered them both toward the back rooms. “Nice beard, by the way.”
“You like it? It’s my rakish look.” Clark followed easily, vaguely wondering why Lois was headed for the back instead of the front door.
“And you said I wouldn’t like Charlie,” she teased, nudging his hip with hers. She stopped in the employee locker room long enough to pick up her coat. That explained why they were taking the back route.
“Oh, you won’t, believe me.” Clark took Lois’s coat and held it up while she slipped her arms in. “He’s pretty rough around the edges. Just wait till he slaps your rear when you’re walking by with a tray full of drinks.”
“He’d better not try it.” Lois headed for the back door, and Clark reached over her head to hold it open.
“Where are we going?” Clark asked as she slipped her hand around his elbow and walked briskly down the back alley.
“My place. I need a pair of blue jeans and a cup of coffee, then I’m going to tell you what I learned in Johnny Taylor’s inner sanctum today, and you’re going to tell me if you’ve heard anything interesting as well.”
“What? I don’t get to stop home to change, too?”
“Out of a tux? Why would I want you to do that? And don’t try to tell me that it chafes. You’re invulnerable.”
*****
Twenty-four hours later Lois and Caleb were huddled together in the Metro Club’s store room. Lois had just finished a smoky rendition of ‘I’ve Got a Crush on You.’ To both of their surprises, Lex Luthor had been in the audience. There was no way he could have failed to recognize Lois.
“Did you see him?” Caleb whispered as soon as the storeroom door closed behind them.
“Of course I saw him,” she shot back, all business. “He threw a rose at me.”
“Get out of here now,” Caleb urged. “Don't even stop to get your things.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. Luthor doesn’t know I’m after him. He’ll just figure I’m investigating the Metro Gang—which I am. He has no reason to hurt me and he's way too smart to let anything slip.”
Clark could see her reasoning, but that didn’t stop him from complaining, “I don't trust him. What's he doing here anyway?”
“You tell me. Didn’t you listen in while he and Toni Taylor were talking?”
Clark shook his head. “I tried, but I couldn’t hear them over the music.” His eyes landed on three neat holes in the wall of the storeroom. About the size of bullet-holes, come to think of it. Clark leaned forward and peered through one of them. Even without his super senses, he had a clear view of the room next door. It looked like a conference room. “So this is how you spied on the meetings. Nice.”
Lois grinned wickedly. “Yeah, I’d tell Johnny thank-you for the holes, but he’s taken a sudden vacation.”
“You know, I think I read something about that in this morning’s newspaper,” Caleb mused with a conspiratorial smile. Then, to Lois’s surprise, he suddenly clutched her to his chest and kissed her hard. She would have pulled back—not in protest, really, more like in shock—but he wouldn’t let her.
Before she could wonder too much about his sudden ardor, the door opened and Toni Taylor’s voice said, “Hello, Charlie.”
Lois and Caleb—or Lola and Charlie—stepped quickly apart and made a show of straightening their clothing. Toni raised a sardonic brow and said, “Gus told me you two had a history together. I don’t care what you do when you’re off the clock, but this is my place now, and I run a tighter ship than my brother did. Back to work, both of you. And don’t let me catch you fraternizing on company time again.” She crossed her arms and glared at both of them as they silently made their way back to their respective posts.
***
Later that evening, Lex Luthor called his gentleman’s gentleman into his den. “I saw Lois Lane tonight, Nigel,” he announced. “She was undercover at the Metro Club. And, unless I mistake the meaning of the glances she was throwing at the bartender during her torch song, Caleb Knight is working there as well.”
“Indeed? Ms. Wilcox reports that Mr. Knight doesn’t actually work at the Planet. He appears there only occasionally to pick up Ms. Lane for lunch or after work.”
“Be that as it may, after what I observed this evening, I can only assume that they are working together.”
“Shall I have them followed? Tap their phones? Bug their apartments?”
“No, Nigel. Nothing that could be noticed or traced. Ms. Lane’s article this morning concerned the Metro Gang, not any of my activities, so let’s not do anything that might raise suspicions. Still, the fact that both of them are frequenting the Riverfront area just as my redevelopment plans are coming to fruition does seem like a remarkable coindidence. Get me this month’s telephone records for Lois Lane’s apartment, Caleb Knight’s cell phone, and Norbert Enterprises’ house on Hyperion Avenue. I want to know who those two have been talking to.”
“Of course, sir.”
*****
The next morning, Lois stood in front of Perry’s desk, basking in his praise. ‘Superman Saves Riverside from Toaster Torching’ read one headline. ‘Toni Taylor and Metro Gang behind Toasters’ read a second.
“This is the second story in a row with special assistance from your young man,” Perry said. “You sure he doesn’t deserve part of the byline?”
Lois shrugged. “He probably does,”—this time he’d actually done about half of the writing, in addition to helping Lois spy on Toni Taylor the night before, thus saving her the trouble of spending the night in a rat-infested warehouse—“but he keeps insisting that I did most of the work. Personally, I think he’s nuts to turn it down, but I can’t seem to get through to him.”
“Well, you tell him from me that if he ever wants a steady reporting job, I’ll gladly give him an interview. I can’t make any guarantees without seeing his resume and work samples, but I’d give him a fair shot.”
“Thanks, Chief. I’ll tell him.”
“Why don’t you have him pop in here when he comes to pick you up for lunch?”
“I would, but he won’t be coming by today. He’s having lunch with his parents. He invited me to join them, but I’ve got an interview with the city health inspector at noon.”
“All right, then. I guess I’ll see him some other time.” Perry turned his attention to the next item in his in-box, and Lois knew that was her cue to get back to work.
*****
Lex looked up from his morning paper as Nigel approached. “Delightful story by Lois Lane, don’t you think? Pity about Toni. We could have done some good business together. Oh, well. There are plenty more fish in that sea. Is it safe to assume that the folder in your hand contains the phone records I requested?”
“Yes, sir. You will be pleased to know that there is no indication that either Ms. Lane or Mr. Knight has spoken to anyone with ties to LexCorp.”
“Yes, that does please me, Nigel, although it doesn’t surprise me. Anything at all out of the ordinary?”
“Perhaps,” Nigel said with a speculative air. “Ms. Lane’s calls are all what you would expect—she speaks to her sister, her mother, Mr. Knight on his cell phone, the Daily Planet office, a few local numbers belonging to probable snitches, and a variety of restaurants. Mr. Knight, however, is a different story. His cell phone seems to be used almost exclusively for conversations with Ms. Lane—whether at her home or her office. The telephone belonging to the Hyperion Avenue house has the normal variety calls to local businesses like restaurants, but also frequent calls to two unlisted numbers in the same town.”
“Nigel, I know you have a keen sense of drama, but please, don’t keep me in suspense. Where is it that Mr. Knight is calling so often?”
The corners of Nigel’s mouth turned up ever so slightly as he said, “Smallville, Kansas.”
Lex let the smile bloom slowly. “Smallville. Yes, now that you mention it, I can see the resemblance. We thought he’d left town, but it seems he doubled back on us. We are to be congratulated, Nigel. Without even trying, we’ve accomplished something that the combined intelligence networks of every gossip columnist and entertainment tabloid in the country have been unable to achieve: We’ve discovered where Clark Kent is spending his sabbatical.”
He wouldn’t reveal it to his underling, but Lex felt a strange mixture of envy and relief. His estimation of Lois Lane had certainly gone up a notch. In retrospect, he’d been rather disappointed in her lack of taste in men, blowing off Metropolis’s most eligible bachelor in order to spend her free time with an unknown nobody. That was part of the reason why Lex had never seriously pursued her romantically. The fact that she had actually gone into the arms of a worthy opponent like Kent—well, perhaps that made her a prize worth stealing, if only for the entertainment value of the contest.
“May I ask what you plan to do next?” Nigel’s voice brought him out of his reverie.
“I’ll have to give that some thought. I was willing to give Mr. Kent the benefit of the doubt when he was here openly, conducting legitimate publicity interviews. But now that he’s here in disguise and working with Lois Lane, I can only assume that he means to cause me trouble sooner or later. Of course he’ll need to be eliminated. But a man of his standing and reputation needs to be handled with finesse. I’ll let you know when I’ve come up with a suitably creative plan.”
*****
Martha laid the iced tea pitcher on the lunch table and took her seat. Clark and Jonathan were having an animated discussion about NASCAR racing, so it took both of them a couple of minutes to notice that Martha wasn’t eating. She was just staring at Clark. The moment her son turned toward her, he knew he was in trouble. He just didn’t know why.
“What?” he asked in the exact tone he’d been using unsuccessfully against that look for more than twenty years.
“When are you going to tell her?” Martha asked. There was no need to ask what she meant.
“Soon. As soon as I have what I need to bring Lex Luthor down.”
Martha merely raised one eyebrow. “Explain,” was all she said.
Clark laid his sandwich down and wiped his fingers on his napkin. This wasn’t going to be simple. It never was when Martha got an idea in her head. “If I tell Lois who I am and what I’m up to, she’ll want to be right there in the thick of it.”
“I thought that was the idea. When I was in Metropolis the two of you were talking about bringing Lex Luthor down together.”
“Yes, we were. But then Lois was a witness to a murder and I realized that it would be better if I do the messy part of the investigation on my own. I’m going to be trawling around some pretty nasty places and I don’t want her to get hurt.”
“I see. You have some serious work to do and Lois would just be in your way.”
“No! It’s not like that! Lois is the best investigative reporter in the country. If the two of us worked together, I’d be the one slowing her down, not the other way around.”
“That’s not how it’s going to look to Lois when she finds out that you decided to cut her out of her own investigation without even talking to her about it.”
Clark opened his mouth to respond…and realized that he had absolutely nothing to say. His mother was waiting for his next argument, but he was coming up empty. Perplexed, he searched for a way to explain his decision to his mother, and by extension to Lois as well. He was forced to admit defeat.
“I have to tell her the truth,” he finally conceded.
“I think so, dear,” Martha agreed mildly.
“It scares me silly.”
“I can see that.” Her tone was sympathetic, but not apologetic. “I don’t know why. You’ve shared a much bigger secret before—with Lana, then Pete. You were terrified of how they’d react, but they understood, and it only deepened those friendships. What makes you think that it would be any different with Lois?”
Clark took a bite of roast beef on rye while he thought that over. Finally, he said, “In my head, I know you’re right. I can’t see Lois rejecting me for being Clark Kent. It’s not like I’ve even been hiding anything or lying to her. But there will be adjustments. Caleb Knight isn’t famous, for one thing. Lois is an investigative reporter. She goes undercover as part of her job. How’s she going to do that when her picture is on the cover of every entertainment magazine as Clark Kent’s first steady girlfriend? She won’t be able to go anywhere without people recognizing her.”
“You do realize how crazy that sounds coming from you, don’t you? It’s not as if everyone *you* meet recognizes *your* celebrity face—either one of them.”
Clark gave a wry half-smile. “Okay, you have a point there. But that doesn’t mean Lois is going to like it.”
“She’ll learn, Clark. Just like you did.”
“I know. But that’s just one aspect of what I’m talking about. There’s so much baggage that comes with my level of fame. It seems like a lot to ask her to take all of that on.”
“If she loves you, she’s going to have to adjust to it sooner or later.”
“I guess I’ve been putting it off, hoping it would be later rather than sooner. But you’re right. I’ve run out of excuses. Lois deserves to know the whole truth.”
“So you’ll tell her sooner rather than later.” It wasn’t really a question.
“Yes, I will. But I’ll do it someplace public and fancy so she can’t yell at me too loud. Maybe Angelino’s next Saturday.”
“Don’t be silly, honey. Bring her here. Let her see the way you *really* live. Then maybe the red carpet life won’t seem so intimidating.”
“No, Martha, I think the boy has the right idea.” Both Clark and Martha turned in surprise to Jonathan. He didn’t say much, but when he did speak, it was generally a good idea to listen. “She already knows that ‘Caleb’ isn’t a playboy at heart. But ‘Caleb’ is only part of who Clark is. The high life is part of the package as well. She deserves to know *all* of what she’s signing up for. She’s been with Superman and Caleb. It couldn’t hurt to give her a taste of what Clark Kent can offer. Let him impress her. Besides, if you stay in Metropolis she’ll have an easier time if she wants to go home alone. She’ll only need a taxi, not an airplane.”
“I appreciate the advice—from both of you,” Clark said. “I’ll figure it out. Now, are you going to call me on the carpet for anything else, or can I finish my lunch now?”
“Nope. I’m done,” Martha said cheerily. “And I’m hungry.”
