PREVIOUSLY IN THE PORTRAIT:
Clark has met with Daniel Scardino, a DEA agent with whom Lois had been working on a story and with Lex Luthor. He has taken an instant dislike to both. He is concerned about a possible connection between the story Lois was pursuing and her death. Did she suspect that Luthor is Mr. Big? The portrait of Lois, a person he knows only through interviews, fascinates him. While looking into her life and death, he has fallen in love with a dead woman!
NOW:
The first thing he did when he stepped off the elevator was look for Jimmy. He found him at the coffee station, conversing with an attractive redhead.
“Hi, Jimmy. Are you available for doing some research?”
“Oh, hi, C.K. This is Angela, an intern from Metropolis U. Sorry, Angel. As you can see, I’m needed for some important work. Catch you later.” And taking Clark by the arm, he moved him back into the center of the newsroom.
“Thanks, C.K. That was perfect. Angela will really be impressed!”
“Making a move on her, were you?”
“Hey, I’m young. A guy’s gotta take advantage of every opportunity.”
“She’s very attractive.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Jimmy paused to watch Angela saunter back to the archives. Clark grinned at his obvious appreciation of Angela’s attractions.
“So, Clark, what do you need?” Break time was over.
Clark went over to his desk and pulled out copies of Lois’s files. “I need to know everything you can find out about these dead men, and also about the building where one of them was found. Lois has some questions here. See how many answers you can find.”
“You got it,” said Jimmy enthusiastically, as he headed for his computer. He stopped suddenly and returned to Clark. “This is stuff is from files that Lois left with Lucy, right? Have you looked at her laptop? She kept a lot on it that she didn’t have anyplace else.”
This was the first Clark had heard about a laptop. “I haven’t seen it. Is it here? Do you know how to get into the files?”
“She took it with her when she left Saturday morning. It should be at her apartment. To get into the files, all you need is her password. I figured that out one day when she’d pulled a Mad Dog Lane, and I was kinda mad at her. It was pretty easy, if you know Lois.”
“So what is it?”
Jimmy, leaning over, whispered, “Pulitzer,” and went on his way.
Smiling over the characteristically Loisian password, Clark thought about what Jimmy had said. Unless it was hidden somewhere, there had not been a laptop computer in Lois’s apartment. Maybe the police had it. Flipping the Rolodex, he found Henderson’s’ number and punched it into the phone. As it rang, he speculated on how he could finagle an upgrade to an instrument with auto-dial.
A few seconds later, he was speaking with Inspector Henderson. “Bill, Clark Kent. Did your forensics team take a laptop computer from Lois Lane’s apartment?”
He listened for a moment. “No? Well, apparently she had one, and it isn’t here at the Daily Planet, either.”
He paused again, then, “You bet. I’ll keep you posted.” He hung up. Where was the computer? Did it have something incriminating on it? Did the mysterious visitor who was with her when she died take it away? Always more questions; he needed answers.
Opening a desk drawer, Clark took out his interview list and reviewed it. The first two names were Perry White and Lex Luthor. The chief checked with him frequently and often gave him fresh ideas for his investigation. Luthor had revealed little, and there were many questions about him still to be answered. Clark didn’t think Tristan Ganeymede would have anything to add. He was probably half in love with Lois; at least, the portrait would indicate that. The last thing Clark wanted was to hear another guy saying how wonderful she was and how much he loved her. Bill Henderson was next, and Clark was confident that if he found out anything, he would pass it along. After talking with Lucy, he had decided that Lois’s parents would not be able to tell him anything, and he didn’t see any need to intrude on their grief. Jimmy, Cat Grant, Dan Scardino, Ralph Potter - he had talked with them all. Only Jimmy had offered anything of value, and he was still helping. That left three names unidentified: Diane Goodman, Carl Benson and Star. Clark decided to ask Jimmy about them.
He suddenly realized he was hungry. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was almost four o’clock. He should have picked up something when he was at Molinaro’s. The thought of a stale sandwich from the office vending machine didn’t appeal either. Maybe a bottle of juice would help. He got up from his desk and went to the drink machine located against a wall next to the coffee station. He picked up a bottle of orange juice, chug-a-lugged it and dropped the empty container into the recycle bin. When he returned to his desk, Jimmy was there holding a stacked printout.
“Hey, C.K. this is what I could find, right away. There’s probably more, but it’ll take some time. I figured you’d like to have something to start off with.”
“Thanks, Jimmy. You’re right. Maybe this will send me in some new directions. I’ll take it with me over to Lois’s. I’m going to see if I can find her laptop. You can call me there if you find anything that looks promising.”
“Okay. I’ll keep digging.”
As Jimmy started to leave, Clark said, “Oh, Jimmy. Can you tell me who Star, Diane Goodman and Carl Benson are?”
“Sure. Star is this far out friend of Lois’s, and I mean really far out. She’s into horoscopes and trances and stuff. Anything about the occult, she can help you with. She lives in Lois’s building. Diane is a reporter here. She and Lois got along pretty well. In fact, Diane did some legwork and found a source that helped Lois crack her last story. She’s not here now, though, ‘cause she had some vacation time coming. I think she was going to Hawaii or somewhere. Carl Benson is the travel editor. Lois used to like to talk to him about all the places around the world that she wanted to visit but didn’t have time for. I think he left on Sunday for a free Travel Editors’ tour of Ecuador. Does that help?”
“Yeah, that helps a lot. Thanks, Jimmy.”
Jimmy left, and Clark’s stomach growled. Flipping through Lois’s Rolodex, he found ‘Pizza’. There were several names, and she had rated each one. Apparently she chose her pie according to her mood. One said “A too much chocolate day. Thin crust, lots of veggies. No worries.” Another had “A to hell with it day. Great Chicago style kitchen sink. Fat city.” Then there was, “To celebrate. California designer. Artichokes, oysters, crab, shrimp olive oil and herbs. Add champagne. Expect heartburn.” Even ordering takeout was an exciting adventure with Lois Lane. Finally, he found what he was looking for. “An old friend. Pepperoni and cheese classic. Comfort food.” He dialed the number and ordered.
++++++++++
There was no laptop computer in Lois’s apartment. Clark had known it was a long shot that, maybe, the crime scene investigators had not been as thorough as they should have been and had somehow overlooked something the size of a breadbox. Fat chance. He looked in cupboards and closets, behind, under and on top of furniture. He used his X-ray vision anticipating secret compartments in the walls or under the floorboards. Nothing. So if it wasn’t here, and it wasn’t at the Daily Planet, where was it? Lois hadn’t left it with her sister. Lucy would have given it to Perry. He had to conclude that someone had taken it, and that meant it had something important on it. He had no idea where to continue the search.
He finished eating the last slice of pizza, and poured another cup of tea from the pot he had brought, along with an assortment of teas. It was impossible to work at the Apollo Hotel, and he had decided he would use Lois’s apartment as a base of operations until he got a place of his own. If he was going to spend some time here, he wasn’t going to be forced to drink orange pekoe, and tea brewed in a pot was much superior to tap water colored by a few dunks of a tea bag. After all, no one objected to his being here. <I object! Didn’t you learn anything from that dream last night? You’ve fallen in love with a dead woman, and that’s sick, sick, sick!> <Be quiet. I have work to do. I’m not thinking about her.>
He collected the trash, putting it in a plastic bag next to the door to take away with him when he left. Then he sat on the Procrustean couch to read Jimmy’s printout.
The drowned man, Clayton Kimball, had been a chemist at STAR Labs. He had worked on synthesizing hormones. STAR Labs would not disclose why he was fired. The medical examiner’s report showed the presence of water in the lungs. Cause of death: drowning. He was unmarried and had no family living in Metropolis. His medical card gave the name, Silas Trent, to be notified in case of death.
Clark wrote a note to himself on his pad: ‘Can we subpoena STAR Labs records and force them to reveal why he was fired? Consult Henderson.’
The body found in the dumpster was that of Robert Nolan. He had a father, mother, and sister, all of whom were heartbroken over his death and mystified that there were amphetamines in his body since he had been obsessed with keeping his physique honed and in shape for athletics. His nutrition habits were excellent, and he worked out daily. Big and fast, he was a running back for the Roosevelt High School Rough Riders football team; college scouts from all over the country came to watch him play every week. He had a great future, and no reason to O.D. on drugs.
He wrote on the pad again: ‘any connection with STAR Labs? Athlete - unusual behaviour- steroids?’
The remodel on the building where the body was found and, in fact, the entire Hobbs Bay reclamation project were funded by Lex Luthor through LexBank; another of his companies, Lexco, was doing the construction. At last, a connection to Luthor. It was far-fetched, but it was there. At last, a connection to Luthor. It was far-fetched, but it was there. Lois’s conundrum was beginning to resemble one of those puzzles made up of dots that formed a picture when they were connected properly. Clark needed to figure out the connection sequence. It would be a lot easier if Jimmy could come up with more dots.
It had begun to rain, a hard November downpour sounding like pellets of sleet when the wind blew drops against the windows. He laid his head against the back of the couch and looked at the painting. He hadn’t wanted to look at her. He knew he would just think about last night. His other self was right. The self he didn’t want to listen to. He was in love with a dead woman. Not only was it futile, it was sick. Working at the Daily Planet had been the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. Now he just wanted to find Lois’s killer and run as far as he could away from her memory. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at her.
++++++++++
Some time later, he roused when he heard a key in the lock, and the door open. In the dim light of the single lamp, a disembodied face, familiar and lovely, floated toward him. It was the woman of the portrait, wearing the same trench coat and slacks, stepping from the painting to join him.
“Lois?” he murmured. “I thought you were dead.”
“Do I look dead? Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”
A bright, overhead light came on.
Clark blinked. “What?”
“You heard me, buster. Don’t move. I’m calling the police.”
“Lois, it’s you! You’re not dead.”
“No, but you will be in about another minute, if you don’t explain who you are and why you’re here.” Her face was angry, as she put down the cases she was carrying, picked up and collapsed an umbrella she had set down next to the door, and brandished it as a weapon.
He wasn’t sure she was real. This could be a bizarre version of last night’s dream, Mad Dog Lane come to torment him. Oh, god, he hoped it was real. “It’s okay. My name is Clark Kent. I’m from the Daily Planet...and you’re not dead!”
“From the Daily Planet? I’ve never seen you before. And you tell me I’m not dead one more time, and you get the point of this umbrella right in the middle of your solar plexus. You just sit there and don’t move while I call 911.”
He picked up the phone and handed it to her. “You don’t need to call the police, honest. I’m here legally, and I’m not going to hurt you. I’m so glad you’re....” He almost said the fatal words again, and she pointed the umbrella tip ready to thrust. Catching himself, he continued, “...here; I’m glad you’re here. Just give me a chance, and I’ll explain everything to you. I’m working for the Planet because everyone thinks you’re dead. Why didn’t you let people know you were alive?”
“Why would I let anyone know I was alive? I didn’t know I was supposed to be dead.”
“It’s been in every newspaper and newscast for days. How could you not know?”
“I’ve been...out of touch,” she said, her eyes sliding evasively sideways.
“Where could you be that out of touch? The Gobi Desert? Mars?”
“Wait a minute. I’m the one asking the questions here. Why would my being dead prove that you’re working at the Planet? Don’t tell me they hired you to replace me?”
“Not replace you, write about you. Everyone’s been pretty shaken up by your murder.”
He expected a reaction to the word ‘murder’, but she came at him from another direction.
Glaring, she demanded, “Why should I believe anything you tell me? You talk good, but for all I know you’re some kind of gentlemen thief who uses his charm to seduce and then rob women.”
She thought he was charming! He couldn’t help himself. His face broke into a great big smile.
She was not diverted. “Do you see ‘stupid’ written on my forehead? That may be a really...terrific...smile,” She seemed to drift off for a moment, but hurriedly regained focus. “But, I’m still calling the cops.” She started to punch in 911.
“Wait! Don’t call the police; call Perry White. He’ll tell you who I am.” His deep brown eyes pleaded with her, and to her dismay, she couldn’t resist them.
“Okay, we’ll just see about that.” She coded Perry’s home number into the phone and waited, keeping a steady eye on Clark.
“I hope Perry has a strong heart,” Clark murmured.
Startled by the idea, Lois handed Clark the phone and said, “Here, maybe you should prepare him.”
When Perry answered, Clark said, “Chief, it’s Clark. Are you sitting down?”
The reply was loud and irritated. “Clark, do you know what time it is? And why in Sam Hill should I be sitting down?’
“Hold on tight, Perry. Lois is alive.”
“What?”
“She wasn’t killed after all.”
“Now, son, it’s been pretty easy to see that you’ve kind of fallen under Lois’s spell, the more you found out about her. It’s understandable, but Clark, much as I’d like to believe it isn’t so, she’s dead.”
“No, she isn’t. She’s standing right here. Why don’t you talk to her?”
He handed the phone to Lois who said, “Perry? It’s me.”
“Great shades of Elvis! Lois, honey, is that really you? You’re not dead?”
“Why does everybody keep saying that,” she muttered. “Yes, Perry, it’s really me. I’ve been...out of town and didn’t realize that everyone thought I’d been murdered. I know you have a million questions, and I’ll answer them all tomorrow. But just for now, let’s keep my resurrection between us, okay?”
“All right, darlin’, but I probably won’t sleep a wink wondering where you’ve been. Let me talk to Kent, again.”
“You do know him, then? You trust him?”
“I do, honey, and so can you.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll decide that for myself. Here he is,” and she handed the phone to Clark.
“Chief, I’ll call you at the Planet in the morning. I don’t know where Lois will stay tonight, but I agree with her. I think it’s best, for now, that everyone still thinks that she’s dead.”
“Wherever she is, you stay close and protect her, you hear.”
“Yes, sir!”
Clark’s enthusiasm for the task reassured Perry, who went on. “You know, we can’t keep this a secret for long, Clark. This is a big story.”
“We’d better find out what Lois knows before we make it public, don’t you think? There are still questions to be answered.”
“You’re right, and now you and Lois can work together to find those answers. You should make a good team.”
Clark looked at Lois who was still bristling and holding the umbrella. She was also dripping all over the carpet from having come in from the rain, and suddenly she sneezed.
“I think we’d better wait and tell her about that in the morning.”
“You’re right. She’s not used to working with a partner. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it, and you two can get on with finding out who tried to kill her.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Chief? There’s a more urgent question we need to answer first.”
“What’s that?”
“If Lois is alive, then who’s dead?”
Perry chuckled in approval. “I knew you were right for this job. You two are going to make a great team! Talk to you tomorrow, son,” and he hung up the phone.
Clark smiled at Lois. She regarded him warily. Then she sneezed again.
“Lois, you need to get out of those wet clothes.” He realized he’d forgotten to turn on the radiator.’” You’re probably freezing. Why don’t you take a hot shower and put on something dry.”
“You expect me to get into the shower with you hanging around? I’m nobody’s fool. I saw ‘Psycho’. I’ll shower after you’re gone, and the door is locked.”
“Lois, I understand you need to get to know me, but Perry vouched for me, didn’t he? Would he have done that if I were Norman Bates? Anyway, he told me to stay with you to protect you.”
“I do not need you to protect me. I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”
Clark was beginning to understood what Scardino had been talking about. “Alone in an apartment where somebody tried to kill you? If you’re nobody’s fool, then get used to the idea that you’re in danger, and Perry told me to stay with you. Look, you’re wet and cold and probably hungry. . I’m sorry. I ate all of the pizza, but while you’re showering, I’ll go get some takeout and make another pot of tea. You can lock the door when I leave and I can let myself in when I get back.”
“You have a key to my apartment?” she said, horrified.
“We didn’t think you’d mind since you were dead. Now go get in a hot shower.”
“Not until I lock the door behind you.”
First, he turned the radiator on and then he stepped into the hallway. He heard the lock snap as he moved toward the stairs. Literally walking on air, he grinned and remembered that Lois Lane likes spicy Thai food. He knew just the place.
++++++++++
