When Lois finished asking Karen all the questions to which she needed answers, she pulled out the two syringes she’d purchased on the street and injected each of the women in the hip with a five milligram dose of Scopolamine mixed with a fifteen-cubic-centimeter one-percent saline solution. Despite her threat to Karen, both doses were as safe a knockout drug as she could get from the street vendor she’d met the previous night, and as long as neither woman had a pre-existing heart problem, they’d be fine the next day.
She hoped so, anyway. She’d used all the Rohypnol she could get on Robertson.
If she hadn’t insisted that they lie down first, they would have fallen over. The surgical anesthesia drug hit both of them like a runaway truck and they were unconscious in seconds. And according to the pusher from whom she’d bought the doses, their short-term memories would be suppressed. Whatever they remembered, it would be fragmentary and unclear, assuming they remembered anything for the previous few hours.
She still felt dirty from the grin on the dealer’s face when he’d sold her the date-rape drug. He hadn’t said anything to her, he’d just laughed cruelly. But it had to be done if the Boss was going to face justice sometime before Lois closed her eyes for the last time.
Lois tucked a couch pillow under each woman’s head and made sure they were breathing easily. Then she removed the stockings from around their necks and wrists and straightened their hair. She folded their clothing neatly and stacked it on top of the desk. She amused herself by imagining how the women would try to figure out what had happened to them.
Her pistol slid easily into her purse, along with the micro-recorder she’d used to tape Karen’s answers to her questions. She was glad not to have fired her weapon this time, but only because it would have made her escape more difficult. And she didn’t want anyone interfering with her when she mailed this tape to the DA.
Or, on second thought, maybe there was another way to get this information to them. She’d have to think about it later.
She unlocked the office door and slipped through, then closed it firmly. Brett was still in his office making calls, so she tapped on his door and waited for him to tell her to come in.
“Dr. Leibowitz wants you to knock on her door twenty minutes before the next patient comes. Karen may be in there with her, so you’ll need to answer the phones, too.”
Brett frowned. “Where will you be?”
“I have some errands to run, so I’m going for an early lunch. I should be back before the next couple arrives.”
She could tell that Brett didn’t like it, but he nodded sharply. “Fine. Leave the door open so I can see anyone who wanders in.”
“No problem. See you later.”
She waltzed out as if she owned the place. She wished she could see Brett’s face when he discovered those two half-naked women out cold on the floor in the doctor’s office.
The elevator was empty when the doors opened for her on the sixth floor. She pulled off the wig in the elevator and stuffed it in her oversized purse. The third-floor ladies’ room gave her a place to straighten her hair, lose the wig in the trash can, and turn her jacket inside out to show the tan pattern instead of the solid black. The green contacts also ended up in the trash, and her black plastic glasses went in her pocket and were replaced with thin wire-frames. No one would associate the short-haired brunette who walked out the front door of the building with the long-haired redhead who’d come in to work that morning.
It was time to digest the new information she’d gotten. Karen had been most informative once she’d begun talking.
Lois now had detailed information on Jenna’s criminal hierarchy, from the seven people who reported directly to her and many of the people who reported to those seven. Below that, Karen didn’t know the details, but she knew about the general activities they’d engaged in. Lois wasn’t surprised to learn that collecting from the house of prostitution she’d used as camouflage when casing Big Mike was the responsibility of one of Jenna’s subordinates.
The only hiccup had been when Lois had asked about the next level up. Karen had sworn on her mother’s grave that a tall, white-haired, goateed Englishman – whose name she claimed not to know – was the person Jenna Leibowitz reported to. Karen had admitted to seeing him several times and had spoken with him twice. He’d always been charming, if a bit low-key, and unfailingly polite.
He’d also exuded an aura of menace so palpable that Karen hadn’t wanted to talk any more. Lois had had to place her pistol against the doctor’s head and cock the hammer to get her speaking again. Leibowitz had tried to scream through her gag, presumably for Karen to shut up, but Karen had believed Lois’ bluff and spoken about Nigel by name, then poured out all she knew of his activities.
Lois climbed on a city bus and rode it downtown, then switched to another which took her closer to her hideout apartment. The wire frames disappeared into her purse on the second bus, and she turned her jacket inside-out one more time just before her stop. The effect made Lois look like yet another person to the casual observer. She felt invisible, and safe, again.
Except there was a young cop in front of her apartment building as she rounded the corner two blocks from her refuge. Without breaking stride, she kept walking past him without turning her head, then turned into the alley where the building’s fire escape terminated. If she couldn’t get in the back way, she could climb the ladder.
But a quick glance over her shoulder told her that not only was the cop not following her, he hadn’t seemed to even notice her. And, as she’d hoped, the emergency exit of the building was still unlocked from the outside, something that would have aroused the ire of any safety inspector should one ever visit this dump.
The stairs weren’t too hard on her legs, even if she hadn’t been to the gym for almost two weeks. And her stomach felt better today. Maybe she would have a good day today and not ralph up the contents of her belly.
She snickered to herself as she thought of Ralph and vomiting at the same time. It was an apt juxtaposition. The guy was just irritating, even when he was actually working.
Then her smile turned upside down as she thought of Cat and their verbal battles, of Jimmy and his enthusiasm and untapped talent, of Perry and his Elvis stories, of Eduardo and his proud tales of his children and what they had already accomplished in life –
And of Clark.
Her eyes threatened to overflow and her vision blurred and she almost tripped on the wrinkled carpet leading to her room.
Blast it! She’d let him sneak up on her again!
She missed all of the others at the Planet, but she missed Clark most of all. She wished that she’d taken him seriously all the times he’d tried to warn her about Lex Luthor. She wished she hadn’t seriously considered accepting the man’s proposal, a proposal Clark had all but begged her to decline.
And she wished she’d told him that she returned his love that day in the park.
She dropped her purse and the foot of the bed and turned to lock the door behind her. Her lip trembled and she stumbled to the bed to fall face-down on the comforter.
Of all the people she regretted pushing away from her, it was Clark who was her number one regret. He’d never revealed any of the secrets he’d learned about her, he’d always come through for her, he’d always been there to lift her up when she was down, and no matter how hard she tried, she hadn’t been able to run him off. For most of a year, she’d tried to shove him away from her, but like a puppy he kept coming back for more.
No, not a puppy. He was smart, handsome, and had an inner strength that would have given anyone Lois knew a strong test. He was also faithful to a fault, and even though he had no compunction about correcting her grammar or spelling or actions, he always did so with the goal of helping her be a better reporter, a better writer, a better person.
He had to be in love with her to put up with such lousy treatment from her.
She curled up in a ball and prayed silently as her tears dampened the covers. She prayed that she’d wrap this up soon enough to tell Clark how she really felt about him. She prayed that her cancer would let her enjoy a few weeks, or even just a few days, of his company. She prayed that he’d understand that she loved him no matter how short her time was.
Then her hands began trembling.
She tried to stop them but couldn’t. She felt as if she were coming down with a serious case of chills, but she didn’t have a fever. Maybe – maybe her tremors were another symptom of the cancer manifesting itself.
Her legs began shaking and her chest spasmed. Her breath came in short, sharp gulps snatched from between her chattering teeth. Her head jerked up and down against the pillow and a scream began making its way up from her abdomen.
Lois managed to shove her face against the pillow just before the wails began – even here, a screaming woman would bring attention she didn’t want. Her tears soaked the pillow and mixed with her drool. Her fingers clawed at the sheets and tore through the cheap weave in at least two places.
It was either the cancer or the emotional reaction of missing Clark so much. It had to be. She couldn’t be reacting to what she’d done – and threatened to do – to Jenna and Karen. It had been wrong, she knew, but there was no way to get the information she needed quickly enough. The end justified the means – at least it did in this case.
Her wild lunges and shakes finally subsided into deep, heart-rending sobs. She missed Clark. She missed Perry and Jimmy and even Cat. She missed her own apartment and her Jeep. Most of all, she missed doing her job, talking around and through obstinate police officers, getting information no one else could get, seeing her name above the fold on the front page, because it meant that a bad person wouldn’t hurt anyone any more.
She cared about the awards, the recognition of her peers, the knowledge that she was near the top of her profession, but most of all she wanted the bad guys to pay for what they did. She slept well knowing that one or more evildoers were put away where they couldn’t hurt anyone.
She wiped her eyes and nose on the edge of the grimy sheet and told herself that she’d find the Boss and prove his or her identity. And she’d sleep well for eternity knowing that she’d brought the Boss to justice.
Exhausted sleep overtook her before she could move from that spot.
*****
Lex pressed the intercom button. “Jennifer, please locate Nigel and ask him to come to my office immediately.”
“Yes, sir,” the woman responded.
Lex leaned back in his chair. He didn’t know whether he hoped Nigel already knew all about the scene in Jenna’s office or that he would be shocked by the news. Lex was certainly shocked, and not a little concerned. Jenna knew enough about Lex’ business – his real business – to put him in prison for the next few decades of his life, assuming he could avoid the death penalty.
A knock on the door signaled a visitor. It had to be Nigel, or his secretary would be in for a very uncomfortable lesson. “Come in, Nigel.”
The tall Englishman stepped in and closed the door, then moved further into the room. “You summoned me, sir?” he asked.
“Yes, Nigel, I did.” Lex picked up a cigar – this one a domestic brand – and puffed it until it was lit to his satisfaction. He glanced at Nigel, who hadn’t moved from that spot. “Have you heard the latest about the assault on one of our subordinates?”
The man frowned slightly. “Unless you refer to Mr. Robertson’s ordeal, and I doubt that you do, no, I have not heard, sir.”
Lex nodded. “Funny you should mention Mr. Robertson. I just took a call from him.” He stopped and took in a long puff from the cigar, then let it out in a smooth stream. “It seems that he went to his supervisor’s office to – how did he put it – oh, yes, to ‘plead his case with her.’ An appropriate turn of phrase for an attorney, don’t you think? Unfortunately, his supervisor was, er, unable to converse with him.”
Nigel started. “She’s dead?”
“No, not dead, but she was drugged and unconscious. Mr. Robertson took charge of the situation by telling the young man in the adjoining office – a civilian employee of Dr. Leibowitz – that the young man needed to go to Mr. Robertson’s car and retrieve an emergency medical kit while Mr. Robertson revived the two women in the doctor’s office.”
“I’m sorry, sir, two women?”
“Two, Nigel. Dr. Leibowitz and her associate Karen Carter. Both women were in a shameful state of undress, and Robertson apparently did a good job of covering them and hiding their clothing – which was neatly folded and stacked on the doctor’s desk – before the young man returned. Then somehow he convinced the young man that the women had been felled by some virulent pathogen and needed to be quarantined. Next – and this is the part I appreciated the most – Robertson convinced the young man that he had not been exposed to the pathogen but he, Robertson, had been, and that the young man needed to lock himself in his office to prevent such exposure while Robertson contacted the authorities and secured the room. Robertson then contacted an associate of his, who assisted him in transporting the two women to a safer location.”
Nigel nodded, then blinked. “Uh, sir, if you don’t mind a question or two?”
Lex waved the cigar expansively. “Go ahead.”
“How did you come to be in possession of this information?”
“Ah! A very good question. Jenna has my private number here. Instead of merely memorizing it, as instructed, she entered it into her personal cell phone under the initials ‘L L’ with no accompanying description. Robertson found the phone, took it with him, and called the number when it became obvious that the good doctor would survive her ordeal. I nearly hung up when I heard his voice, until he told me that Jenna and Karen were safe with him and recovering under a physician’s care. Unfortunately, their memories are somewhat clouded, so we do not know the extent of the damage as yet.”
“I see, sir. Then I must ask – who has perpetrated this deed?”
“Robertson reported that Jenna had taken on a new staff intern several days ago, a young red-headed woman named Zoe Cunningham, possessing excellent organizational skills and a three-fifty-seven magnum revolver. Jenna was quite clear in relating that detail to Robertson, one of the few details of which she was certain. Does that sound like anyone we know?”
Nigel took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Regrettably, sir, this sounds like the work of one Lois Lane, renegade investigative reporter for the Daily Planet.”
Lex straightened in his chair. “I agree. Robertson was unable to obtain any concrete information about what the young woman – almost surely Lois – had acquired from Jenna and Karen, but there was a brief mention of a microcassette recorder and the district attorney’s office. I suggest that we attempt to intercept that tape, if possible, and destroy it. If we can, there will be no record of what actually happened in that office, as both Dr. Leibowitz and Ms. Carter were removed from the building before anyone saw them.”
Nigel nodded. “He did well, sir. I assume the young man in the outer office has been eliminated?”
Lex shook his head. “No. Robertson felt that because he had neither seen nor heard anything incriminating, it was safe to have another associate take him home. The associate then injected a sedative into the young man’s arm after telling him that he should receive a preemptive inoculation against the virulent pathogen which felled the unfortunate doctor and her office manager. I expect that by now the young man is fast asleep and will remain so until late tomorrow.” Lex stood. “If it’s any consolation to you, I believe that you have trained Mr. Robertson well.”
“Thank you, sir, but I must decline all credit for his—”
“Of course you must!” Lex slammed both fists on the desktop. “It was your incompetence in failing to locate Lois that has allowed this situation to develop as it has! You cannot be held responsible for its beginning but I do hold you responsible for its continuation!” He stomped around the desk and glared up at his subordinate. “I want you to stop that tape from reaching the authorities, Nigel. And then I want you to find Lois Lane and bring her to me alive and unharmed! And this time I will accept no excuses, no prevarications, no explanations! I want results!”
Nigel didn’t shift position, but his face tightened and his words were even more clipped than usual. “Yes, sir. Unless you have additional instructions for me – “
“GO!” roared Lex.
He went.
*****
Nigel was furious.
No. His black rage went beyond furious, beyond livid, beyond inflamed, beyond anything he could name. He hated Lois Lane with a volcanic passion. He didn’t just want her dead, he wanted her disemboweled with a dull box cutter and eviscerated with a red-hot butter knife. He wanted her drawn and quartered by four teams of Galapagos tortoises and her body salted and drawn into jerky. He wanted to drill holes into her skull and force in boiling salt water to flush out her brain matter. He wanted her to die in screaming agony, terrorized beyond coherent speech, drowning in her own blood.
And he wanted to do it all himself.
It didn’t matter what Lex Luthor had told him. It didn’t matter what his instructions were. It didn’t matter what Lex Luthor wanted. Nigel St. John was going to kill Lois Lane.
And if he couldn’t do it with a box cutter or butter knife or tortoises, he’d settle for dropping her off a tall building or crushing her skull with a concrete block.
First, though, he had to stop that tape from being delivered.
*****
Maura Ingles put the phone down and wept silently. She knew that her life was over no matter how this turned out. The Englishman had never asked her to steal anything or destroy anything before, only copy papers for him or delay certain office deliveries a day or two. And he’d always paid her both well and on time.
Now, though, she was being asked – no, she’d been ordered – to intercept a particular envelope containing a specific tape and give it to the Englishman. He couldn’t tell her what size or color the envelope was, how big the tape was, who it was addressed to if not just to the District Attorney of Metropolis, or what the return address was, assuming one would be on the envelope. But she had to find it anyway or suffer the consequences.
Maura didn’t want to know what the consequences might be.
If she found the tape and gave it to the Englishman, he’d hold it over her head for the rest of her life. She was neither a law enforcement official nor an attorney, but the eight years she’d spent in the bowels of the District Attorney’s office had been good ones. She’d prided herself on helping the city keep a handle on the criminal element, and her contributions in keeping the lines of communication among the various attorneys and clerks in the department had been substantial and material, at least in her own mind. She rationalized her extracurricular activities by telling herself that no criminal had ever escaped justice because she’d shared information on any ongoing prosecution.
But the money wasn’t enough this time. Surrendering that tape would interfere with a criminal investigation and prevent someone from paying for a criminal act. Maura knew that without knowing what was on the tape. She wouldn’t have been given such an urgent and dangerous mission if that weren’t so. And she wouldn’t have been promised triple her normal payment if it had been her usual copy-the-brief or mislay-the-affidavit job.
There was really no question about what Maura would do. She’d get the tape and deal with the other stuff later.
Assuming, of course, that she lived long enough to deal with the other stuff.
*****
Lois sighed as she put the tape into the manila envelope, along with a piece of cardboard on either side of the tape to stiffen it, sealed the envelope, and wrote the DA’s address on the front. She frowned in thought for a moment, then wrote “Photo – Do Not Bend” below the address. As an added bonus, she put Lola Dane on the return address field and added the Daily Planet’s street address along with it. It might keep the envelope closed long enough for the tape to find the right person.
She sighed. If the DA got this tape and acted on it, both Jenna and Nigel would be trapped in the investigation. If it fell into the wrong hands, though, someone was likely to die at the hands of the criminals she was pursuing. Upon reflection, Lois decided it would be fitting if there were one or two bad guys who went into eternity with her. It wouldn’t be as good as bringing down the entire organization, but it would be better than nothing.
Of course, the original tape was already on the way to Perry’s home with the same return address. Her old boss would know what to do with it.
