Clark took off surreptitiously from the rooftop of Metropolis Police Headquarters, heading straight up like a shot. For a moment he let himself enjoy the freedom of stretching as fast and as far as he could in the night sky, after having been stuck in that tiny cell for over a week. He felt good to be out for another reason as well. Today he had been given the first good news he’d had since this whole nightmare began. This afternoon, his lawyer had informed him that he would be brought to trial in a week, and was likely to be released on not enough evidence. Henderson informed him before freeing him for his night investigation that if he could find a solid enough lead on Luthor, he may even be released sooner. Clark had also asked Henderson if he had any leads on who had stolen the Kryptonite, but Henderson just mumbled that he was working on it. Henderson was tempted to be a bit harsher with his men to get to the truth, but he first wanted to see what Superman could find on his first night out.
Clark flew around the city, noticing it was surprisingly quiet tonight. He had had to tune out the calls of the helpless while he was in prison, not able or even wanting to help, so lost in grief he had been. But being back in the skies, he couldn’t help but be aware of the noises of the city again. He scanned Suicide Slum and Hobb’s Bay, notorious areas for trouble, but saw no real sign of trouble or of Lex Luthor. He tried questioning a few petty thieves he tracked in Suicide Slum, but they didn’t seem to know about any big goings on around the city.
Feeling frustrated and desperately needing some answers, he suddenly saw the Daily Planet globe like a beacon in the distance. He felt bittersweet, looking at a place he had considered home, yet could never be home to him again without Lois. He flew over to the rooftop of the Daily Planet building, suddenly inspired by an idea. Perry usually didn’t question Superman’s presence, but Clark wondered how he’d feel about him poking around in the newsroom a bit.
It was after midnight, and Clark was surprised to see Perry, still sitting in his office. The man looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, and Clark’s heart went out to him. Perry was listening to Elvis, singing along with the saddest song of his Clark thought he had ever heard the chief play. Perry shook his head, singing with all his heart, “I’ve got the bluest kind of blues, driving me right outta my mind.” Clark landed with a purposeful whoosh through the window, so Perry would have a moment to collect himself before he had to speak to him.
As Clark had intended, Perry saw the flash of cape and turned down the radio. “Where have you been, Superman?” he asked bluntly, if not with some underlying anger. “I’ve put notices in the paper for you for a solid week! One of my top reporters is dead and the other in prison!”
Clark held up his hands to try and calm down his editor. “It’s a long story, Mr. White. But I’m here now, to help where I can,” Clark said with as much conviction as he could muster, wishing Perry didn’t look so accusingly at him.
“Well, shouldn’t you be hunting down Luthor?” Perry said with no preamble. Count on Perry to cut to the chase.
“Yes, sir,” Clark acknowledged. “But first, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if I took advantage of some of the Planet’s resources.”
Perry looked at him questioningly a moment. <<Superman needed the Daily Planet?>> “We’ll do anything we can to help, I’ll assure you of that.”
“May I have access to Lois’ files? Clark told me about a contact of hers that might know where to start looking for Luthor,” Clark asked, wondering again what he thought he was doing… this was totally Clark’s territory, not Superman’s. But he trusted Perry would understand extenuating circumstances called for extenuating actions…
“Of course, Superman,” Perry said, eying him curiously. “The newsroom’s all yours,” he said generously, gesturing to the expanse of the empty newsroom, save for a few of the custodial staff.
Clark made his way over to Lois’ desk, his heart constricting in sadness as he saw her nameplate. He picked it up, gently caressing the letters, not caring if Perry or anyone else noticed. The dreams he had been having continued to haunt him, of not saving her, of her slipping out of his grasp forever. He didn't want to think of what his future would be without her; even if he caught Luthor and was cleared of all charges, his life would forever be destroyed because the one person who mattered above else to him, was gone.
He remembered those horrible few moments before he had blacked out when she had realized he was Superman. He had seen the way she had come immediately to his defense… Had she really cared for him, *Clark*? He believed she had been starting to care… He wondered what realizing he was Superman had meant to her in those final moments. She had become determined to stop Luthor from hurting him, that was certain. And it had cost her life to try and save him.
Clark cursed himself for all the petty worries he had had about telling her he was Superman. He had wanted her to see beyond the powers, and she was just beginning to care for Clark, he thought. But they had had barely a chance for anything to happen between them. He had finally asked her on a date only just recently… and all too quickly, she was taken from him.
He sighed, trying to focus on why he was at the Planet in the first place, and remembering that he didn't have all night to worry over the past. He took a seat in Lois’ chair, feeling awkward doing so as Superman. Her Rolodex was on the corner of her desk, as it always had been, organized, but filled past capacity with odd notes on sources. Clark hoped the one source he thought might have a pulse on what Luthor was up to was in there and would be willing to talk to him.
He tried not to let himself get too sentimental, touching her things, but he couldn’t help the constriction in his throat at all the things that were so *Lois* about even her Rolodex. She put notes next to sources’ names like “trustworthy, but a flirt,” “knows dirt on the mayor and loves freebies from DP,” “talk to secretary, boss never knows the dirt,” “don’t take to lunch—chews with mouth open!” Clark couldn’t help but laugh at her little notes, even as they made him want to cry from missing her. At last he found the one he was looking for: “Bobby ‘Bigmouth’—bring him food, LOTS of food. And NEVER forget dessert!”
Clark called the number on the card.
“Bobby here,” came a mumbled reply. Clark thought he heard the smack of him chewing on something. <<The man really does eat all the time!>>
“Hi, this—this is Superman,” he said, still trying to adjust to his idea of investigating Clark-style as Superman.
“Superman? Is this some kind of joke?”
“No. It’s quite serious, actually. I’m a friend of Clark Kent’s… and of Lois Lane.”
“I was so sorry to hear about Lois… Great gal. But what do you want with me?”
“Well, I’m wondering if you’ve heard anything on Lex Luthor?”
The phone went silent a moment.
“Hello?” Clark asked.
“Aw, sorry, Supes. Had to take a drink. I only ever talked to Lois… but I know she thought a lot of you, so yeah, I might know something. Meet me at the corner of Washington and Third in a half hour. And be sure to bring me something good to eat. And with you being Superman, and all… wouldn’t mind something a little authentic… I don’t know… Italian?”
*********
After a quick hop across the pond to a great little restaurant Clark new in Tuscany, he made it to the rendezvous point with five minutes to spare.
Bobby showed up, right on time. “It’s a great honor to meet you, Superman,” said Bobby, never looking at him, but eying the bag he held instead.
“Oh, wow, real manicotti. Oh, this is heaven, Superman!” he looked deeper in the bag. “And real tiramisu! Thanks Superman!” he said, digging into the manicotti with gusto. “Oh, and real Italian bread, too! I could die a happy man, you know that?”
Clark nodded,impatient to hear any news, “So, what can you tell me?”
“Well, there’s a rumor that the Boss has made a comeback. But he’s having trouble getting any real support, because he’s broke. Intergang’s who run things now, but surely you know that?” he said, taking the bread to sop up the sauce. “This stuff is amazing!”
“Do you have any idea where he’s hiding out?” Clark asked, starting to show his impatience.
“Only that he’s underground somewhere. I don’t know what part of the city. But he had this scientist chick, what that brought him back from the dead? Gretchen Kelly. Well, I don’t know about the scientist, but I know Luthor was scaring up some strange materials that may be tied to cryo—cryogenics. Don’t know what it means, but it might be worth knowing.”
“Thanks, Bobby,” Clark said with feeling. That last bit of knowledge gave him more hope than he expected to feel ever again. “I have to go. Thanks for the information.”
“Any time, Supes. Especially if you bring me food like this! Man, this is heaven!” Bobby said, digging into the tiramisu as Clark flew off.
