Santa Claws
'Chloe!'
'Chloe!' the insistent yet tentative voice finally penetrated Chloe's steadfast-stare-at-the-ceiling method of trying to outwit Lionel Luthor. She hurried off the bed and into her bunny slippers and to the room next door.
Lana lay on the bed, propped by many pillows. She had come home that very morning and could just about hobble on crutches. She looked guiltily at the smiling blonde who entered her room.
'I'm sorry, I really wanted to talk to you but was too lazy to get at the crutches.' the dark-haired girl said in an apologetic tone.
Chloe plonked on the comforter.'I did tell you that apologizing is not allowed by the person who has major backbone mending on her itinerary. Of course we'll talk. Hold the thought while I get some ice-cream to flavor the palaver.'
On the word Chloe left and came back with strawberry cheesecake ice cream in two bowls.
Lana looked at her and said 'I had cleaned my teeth you know. But I cannot say no to ice-cream.' Saying so she dug her spoon into the soft cream mass.
'Well,' said Chloe 'so talk.' Lana began slowly, weighing each word. 'You know, when you are drugged and then there is a phase when you don't know whether you are awake or sleeping.' She swallowed some ice-cream and looked at Chloe who was in turn looking expectantly at her and started again.
'You know when ..' and then a decisive toss of-unaffected-by-bed-head tresses.
'Chloe, I heard Lionel Luthor on his phone today.'
Chloe froze but Lana seemed not to notice
'He must have thought I was sleeping or something.'
'Wwhat did he say?' Chloe croaked.
'He seemed to be talking to someone who was blackmailing him. At least that what I thought from the side of the conversation I heard.He refused to pay up and threatened the other person.'
'What for?' asked Chloe 'did you gather that?'
'Something to do with Lex's personal papers.'
'He said nobody would believe 'it' was Lex's and then he must have been convinced by something as he agreed to a meeting. At the castle. So it must be a somebody local.'
Chloe was now totally engrossed in the tale.
'Did he give a time?'
'Yes, tomorrow at 7 in the morning. Chloe, I'm worried. Should I tell anyone else? Especially since Lex is in such a vulnerable situation. I can't believe somebody would exploit that'. The easy tears of the invalid sprang to Lana's eyes.
'The world's a funny place' said Chloe with a speculative looking her eye. She had no doubt that the day when Lionel was not threatened blackmail was probably highlighted fondly on his calendar, but she would like to observe how he reacted to the situation, so that it gave her more of an edge when things came to a confrontation of a like nature between them.
'No, you rest now, I'm sure Lionel can look after himself, and if and when unidentified bodies turn up we'll think of the next step.'
This was barely a comfort but the fact that she had transferred her burden to the intrepid shoulders of her friend sent Lana into a more agreeable sleep.
Chloe Sullivan was a regular enough visitor at the castle to know the staff from the visitors. She had been waiting for some time hidden behind some bushes on the access road to the castle, when a Honda civic drove by. She had her camera poised to note the driver's appearance and the number of his car.
Her search fro the driver of the car was very short, as it was a personal vehicle, not a hired car, as she had feared. She got the name and address of the man as one Logan Rathmore, of 13 Abbeville Mansions, Metropolis. So not a local.
Something about the name seemed familiar and she quickly downloaded the photo to her laptop and viewed it at maximum resolution and high magnification. She thought the face was familiar too. Chloe closed her computer and drove to the gas station and made a call from the pay phone.
'Hullo?'
'This is Chloe.'
'H'lo Chlo!'
'He Rey!'
'So are you coming to the city to marry me, thus making me the happiest man alive?'
'I would, but then the thought of your face if I actually accepted the offer makes me stop. I do like you y'know Rey, despite the incident with the scanner.'
'To channel the Xanman, I was trying to repress. But why call Chlo?
'Reasons. Do you know of a guy called Rathmore-Logan Rathmore?
' What do you want with the Lorat? Snivelly, ratty, works freelance, but sells a lot of stuff to the News of the 'Verse and the Inquisitor. Shady.'
'Hmm. Thought he was familiar. You keep ahead at the Planet, Rey, and I'll see you online soon, where, by the way, no mention of low rats.'
Chloe rang off and after a few discreet enquiries found that Logan had taken a room at the Smallville motel. She discounted the possibility of his keeping the papers in his room, but he probably had them on hand so that he could hand them over if Lionel met his price. She stared unseeing as the quick gray of the winter evening enveloped the town. Her hand tapped the steering wheel of her Bug, and then with decision she drove to Fordman's , and made a beeline through the holiday shoppers to Bess Fulham who managed the store for Mrs. Fordman and was the best source of 'general information and speculation' for all things Smallville. She was also Chloe's chief collaborator on the Wall of the Weird project and one of her most potent secret weapons. This Chloe attributed to the fact that Bess Fulham loved the persona of the intrepid girl reporter and lived it vicariously through her.
Bess had time for her despite the frantic deluge of shoppers, howling infants and cacophonous carols in the brightly lit store. She simply handed her till over to another employee and walked rapidly to the little office in the back on her ridiculous kitten heels. She sat behind her desk and smoothed her beautifully set hair. Her thin face was full of color, her eyes sparkled and her long, thin nose twitched, Chloe knew the signs; Bess Fulham was full of news.
'Hullo, m'dear! Did you hear about the Bolgars's chicken? It's a quadrilateral my dear. Four legs and all. I tell you it's the new feed from Mannicks. All laced with drugs and secret agendas. Our feed has none of that.'
Chloe decided to divert the flow or else she would have to spend till Christmas day in the small cubicle. 'Bess, I checked out the quadruped chicken. Turns out the Bolgar grandchildren tied extra chicken feet to the new chicks to freak gran out-kind of an early Christmas present.'
Bess looked unconvinced. 'That's what they want you to think. Don't you get taken in, m'dear.' At this juncture Chloe stuck out a magnified copy of Logan's photo. Bess examined it from all possible angles and then nodded.
'Yes, I have seen him. He was up visiting the Lynn's up on Shawn's farm. Saw Mrs. Lynn drop him off in town just yesterday. Now if you ask me, that woman has gained weight.but still popular with the men. Its all them foramens, keeps the men all gaga, despite her likeness to a Holstein.' Bess would have carried on, except Chloe told her that she was on the hunt, and that made her all efficiently informative, nominally garrulous.
Chloe drove to Shawn's farm, which was far north of the town, even further north than the castle. She knew the Lynns slightly, mostly from her friendship with Sophie, their daughter who had graduated the year before and gone up to college at MetU. Mrs. Lynn was sweet, in a generic, mom-of- friend kind of way and as far as Chloe knew, had the normal number of foramina in the normal places. Nor did she believe that she did a Desiree on the men folk of Smallville, so no intrusive pheromones either. Chloe decided to keep an open mind as she knew that Bess had to be taken with a whole mine of salt.
The roads were clear as the weather had been quite warm and she arrived at the farm in a very short time. Parts of the farm were old, but others were very new, as it had been recently rebuilt after the tornado, having sustained major damage in the storm. Now it stood bathed in the orange- yellow light that bespoke warmth, familiarity and home.
Chloe made it past the fairy light festooned garden and knocked on the door. None other than Sophie opened it.
'He! Chloe!!'
'Hi Sophie! You're home for Christmas!' Chloe had always been good at stating the obvious.
'Come in! Mom's out, but she just finished a batch of the most divine mince pies.'
'So you decided to forego the pleasures of skating at the Luthorcorp plaza in favor of the doubtful charms of Crater Lake?' Chloe beamed at the pretty, dark haired girl, who still favored thick glasses and braids, and sat down on the couch before the fire.
'Mom wanted me home, and what she wants she gets; besides I was missing the home cooked. How're you? Still torching the establishment?'
'I try; actually I wanted to ask you something work related. Do you know a Logan Rathmore?
'Hmm. Yes, actually. He came to us a couple of days ago-- the same day I came down for the holidays, he's a friend of my boyfriend's brother. He's been looking at the debris of the storm in the old barn, at least the shell of the old barn.' Sophie handed Chloe some cocoa and continued.
'I think he was interested in the aftermath of the storm. How the community is rebuilding the town, recovering from the physical and emotional devastation.'
'And he finds evidence of that in your old barn?' Nobody could do skeptical like Chloe.
'I don't really know how the creative /reporter mind works. Maybe he wants to write a story on each piece of flotsam or jetsam, I never know the difference between the two or even if I should use the words at all?' Sophie crinkled her brow.
'I know what you mean, neither can I' Chloe encouraged.
'But yeah! Coz there was like loads of stuff that got dropped on the property as the twister sort of petered out near here. I swear to you, there was like a pianoforte and a whole collection of Noddy books. And like a painting, which Mom thinks is from the castle but we don't know for sure. Mom wanted it evaluated anyway. I actually had to go to an art dealer on Crillington Street with the bloody thing wrapped in newspaper. Turns out its quite valuable, but the cost of restoration is more than we can afford at the moment. My boyfriend was quite amused. Told that story for weeks. And plus there was this entire filing cabinet, battered but unbroken. I think Logan actually managed to get it open.we had never bothered-- what with the repairs to the house and me going to college.'
'Sophie. Sophie listen! Did Logan take anything from that cabinet?'
'He may have, but he ought not to really, without asking mom. But he did leave something on the hall table, said he'd collect it later.'
Sophie pad footed over and got the manila envelope, while Chloe fidgeted in excitement.
'Its got his name on it--maybe he intended to ask Mom to take it home or maybe it's a draft of his piece with flattering references to mom.' Sophie tried to pierce the mysteries of the envelope by glaring at it through her thick glasses.
Chloe was so excited she could barely speak. It made sense that Logan would leave the incriminating evidence in a distant farmhouse. Very purloined Letter she thought to herself. 'Sophie-you must promise me this. If Logan comes calling you must tell him that somebody claiming to be a friend of his came and took this away. You gave it in good faith thinking there was nothing valuable in the envelope.'
Sophie looked at the younger girl. 'You up to your normal tricks Chloe? Ok. I don't feel too well towards that guy myself coz of the way he was making up to Mom. Slimy about describes him. And I know you are part of the 'for god and good' brigade, so yeah.'
Chloe hugged her friend before she ran out.
Lionel Luthor was extremely agitated that evening. Part of it was because he had been forced to send the entire day in Smallville while his crew was going over the helicopter as it had developed a minor problem. Also he had more or less agreed to give in to a petty blackmailer regarding some compromising papers that Lex insisted on leaving strewn about the countryside. He could of course have taken a tougher stance, but he was too busy at the moment to bother with taking the harder way out, instead he had opted for the shorter, quicker way but was still upset. He hated untidy endings.
Chloe Sullivan entered the office without ceremony; she had long given up the pretence pf politeness in the company of Lionel. She strode up to the desk and laid a sheet upon it.
Lionel looked down at the printed sheet.
Prince of Persia two, Game boy advance
Cesare Paciotti , style: Moondance, Color: jade, Size 36
Leather Jacket Gucci, colour black, style new anais, size 56
He looked up again at the blonde in front of him. 'What twaddle is this Ms. Sullivan?'
'That's a wish list Mr. Luthor. A plebian ritual observed on Christmas? This is one that I would like to give my friends but have never had the resources to comply. But I am sure you can be our secret Santa and remedy that defect.'
'The gaming stuff is for a friend who is steadfast and loyal-- qualities I am sure you would like to reward. Then a pair of beautiful shoes for a beautiful girl who may thus be inspired to walk again. And a leather jacket for another friend who had to send his last one back on the insistence of his parents. The last by the way will earn you the respect of Smallville's entire female population. You can hand the list to any of your assistants and they can come up with the entire list in two seconds.'
'You amuse me, Ms. Sullivan. Why would I do that?' Lionel said and then stiffened as Chloe drew a familiar piece of stationary out of her bag-- thick notepaper, richly cream, watermarked and crested with the Luthorcorp logo.
'Why, in exchange for another wish list that you certainly don't want to see on the front page of the Inquisitor.' She indicated the single sheet of notepaper with an inclination of her head ' very seasonal it is too.'
Lionel did not need to read the writing on the sheet; he already had the copy that Rathmore had given him. He could well remember the graphic nature of Lex's wish list, addressed to Santa, signed and dated.
'Very well, Ms. Sullivan, the community shall get back from me what it has so generously given. But remember, it's a very long tightrope that you walk, and any step may be fatal.' Lionel delivered the threat with practiced menace.
Chloe parried with wide-eyed innocence.
'Oh, but I was only protecting your interests Mr. Luthor. I thought you would be grateful. I recognized Rathmore as Metropolis's preeminent practitioner of sewer journalism in town today and correctly inferred you to be his target. The rest was footwork and some heavy-duty deduction.'
Chloe was beaming as she turned to leave the office. 'Happy Christmas, Mr. Luthor!'
As Chloe left, Lionel rang for his assistant and gave him the list and asked the goods to be delivered to the Sullivan house. He then called Belle Reve.
' Lionel Luthor.'
'Enlighten me doctor, when my son is released will he still retain-er-any attachments he may have formed in the past year, for a farm person.a minor farm person?'
'Chloe!'
'Chloe!' the insistent yet tentative voice finally penetrated Chloe's steadfast-stare-at-the-ceiling method of trying to outwit Lionel Luthor. She hurried off the bed and into her bunny slippers and to the room next door.
Lana lay on the bed, propped by many pillows. She had come home that very morning and could just about hobble on crutches. She looked guiltily at the smiling blonde who entered her room.
'I'm sorry, I really wanted to talk to you but was too lazy to get at the crutches.' the dark-haired girl said in an apologetic tone.
Chloe plonked on the comforter.'I did tell you that apologizing is not allowed by the person who has major backbone mending on her itinerary. Of course we'll talk. Hold the thought while I get some ice-cream to flavor the palaver.'
On the word Chloe left and came back with strawberry cheesecake ice cream in two bowls.
Lana looked at her and said 'I had cleaned my teeth you know. But I cannot say no to ice-cream.' Saying so she dug her spoon into the soft cream mass.
'Well,' said Chloe 'so talk.' Lana began slowly, weighing each word. 'You know, when you are drugged and then there is a phase when you don't know whether you are awake or sleeping.' She swallowed some ice-cream and looked at Chloe who was in turn looking expectantly at her and started again.
'You know when ..' and then a decisive toss of-unaffected-by-bed-head tresses.
'Chloe, I heard Lionel Luthor on his phone today.'
Chloe froze but Lana seemed not to notice
'He must have thought I was sleeping or something.'
'Wwhat did he say?' Chloe croaked.
'He seemed to be talking to someone who was blackmailing him. At least that what I thought from the side of the conversation I heard.He refused to pay up and threatened the other person.'
'What for?' asked Chloe 'did you gather that?'
'Something to do with Lex's personal papers.'
'He said nobody would believe 'it' was Lex's and then he must have been convinced by something as he agreed to a meeting. At the castle. So it must be a somebody local.'
Chloe was now totally engrossed in the tale.
'Did he give a time?'
'Yes, tomorrow at 7 in the morning. Chloe, I'm worried. Should I tell anyone else? Especially since Lex is in such a vulnerable situation. I can't believe somebody would exploit that'. The easy tears of the invalid sprang to Lana's eyes.
'The world's a funny place' said Chloe with a speculative looking her eye. She had no doubt that the day when Lionel was not threatened blackmail was probably highlighted fondly on his calendar, but she would like to observe how he reacted to the situation, so that it gave her more of an edge when things came to a confrontation of a like nature between them.
'No, you rest now, I'm sure Lionel can look after himself, and if and when unidentified bodies turn up we'll think of the next step.'
This was barely a comfort but the fact that she had transferred her burden to the intrepid shoulders of her friend sent Lana into a more agreeable sleep.
Chloe Sullivan was a regular enough visitor at the castle to know the staff from the visitors. She had been waiting for some time hidden behind some bushes on the access road to the castle, when a Honda civic drove by. She had her camera poised to note the driver's appearance and the number of his car.
Her search fro the driver of the car was very short, as it was a personal vehicle, not a hired car, as she had feared. She got the name and address of the man as one Logan Rathmore, of 13 Abbeville Mansions, Metropolis. So not a local.
Something about the name seemed familiar and she quickly downloaded the photo to her laptop and viewed it at maximum resolution and high magnification. She thought the face was familiar too. Chloe closed her computer and drove to the gas station and made a call from the pay phone.
'Hullo?'
'This is Chloe.'
'H'lo Chlo!'
'He Rey!'
'So are you coming to the city to marry me, thus making me the happiest man alive?'
'I would, but then the thought of your face if I actually accepted the offer makes me stop. I do like you y'know Rey, despite the incident with the scanner.'
'To channel the Xanman, I was trying to repress. But why call Chlo?
'Reasons. Do you know of a guy called Rathmore-Logan Rathmore?
' What do you want with the Lorat? Snivelly, ratty, works freelance, but sells a lot of stuff to the News of the 'Verse and the Inquisitor. Shady.'
'Hmm. Thought he was familiar. You keep ahead at the Planet, Rey, and I'll see you online soon, where, by the way, no mention of low rats.'
Chloe rang off and after a few discreet enquiries found that Logan had taken a room at the Smallville motel. She discounted the possibility of his keeping the papers in his room, but he probably had them on hand so that he could hand them over if Lionel met his price. She stared unseeing as the quick gray of the winter evening enveloped the town. Her hand tapped the steering wheel of her Bug, and then with decision she drove to Fordman's , and made a beeline through the holiday shoppers to Bess Fulham who managed the store for Mrs. Fordman and was the best source of 'general information and speculation' for all things Smallville. She was also Chloe's chief collaborator on the Wall of the Weird project and one of her most potent secret weapons. This Chloe attributed to the fact that Bess Fulham loved the persona of the intrepid girl reporter and lived it vicariously through her.
Bess had time for her despite the frantic deluge of shoppers, howling infants and cacophonous carols in the brightly lit store. She simply handed her till over to another employee and walked rapidly to the little office in the back on her ridiculous kitten heels. She sat behind her desk and smoothed her beautifully set hair. Her thin face was full of color, her eyes sparkled and her long, thin nose twitched, Chloe knew the signs; Bess Fulham was full of news.
'Hullo, m'dear! Did you hear about the Bolgars's chicken? It's a quadrilateral my dear. Four legs and all. I tell you it's the new feed from Mannicks. All laced with drugs and secret agendas. Our feed has none of that.'
Chloe decided to divert the flow or else she would have to spend till Christmas day in the small cubicle. 'Bess, I checked out the quadruped chicken. Turns out the Bolgar grandchildren tied extra chicken feet to the new chicks to freak gran out-kind of an early Christmas present.'
Bess looked unconvinced. 'That's what they want you to think. Don't you get taken in, m'dear.' At this juncture Chloe stuck out a magnified copy of Logan's photo. Bess examined it from all possible angles and then nodded.
'Yes, I have seen him. He was up visiting the Lynn's up on Shawn's farm. Saw Mrs. Lynn drop him off in town just yesterday. Now if you ask me, that woman has gained weight.but still popular with the men. Its all them foramens, keeps the men all gaga, despite her likeness to a Holstein.' Bess would have carried on, except Chloe told her that she was on the hunt, and that made her all efficiently informative, nominally garrulous.
Chloe drove to Shawn's farm, which was far north of the town, even further north than the castle. She knew the Lynns slightly, mostly from her friendship with Sophie, their daughter who had graduated the year before and gone up to college at MetU. Mrs. Lynn was sweet, in a generic, mom-of- friend kind of way and as far as Chloe knew, had the normal number of foramina in the normal places. Nor did she believe that she did a Desiree on the men folk of Smallville, so no intrusive pheromones either. Chloe decided to keep an open mind as she knew that Bess had to be taken with a whole mine of salt.
The roads were clear as the weather had been quite warm and she arrived at the farm in a very short time. Parts of the farm were old, but others were very new, as it had been recently rebuilt after the tornado, having sustained major damage in the storm. Now it stood bathed in the orange- yellow light that bespoke warmth, familiarity and home.
Chloe made it past the fairy light festooned garden and knocked on the door. None other than Sophie opened it.
'He! Chloe!!'
'Hi Sophie! You're home for Christmas!' Chloe had always been good at stating the obvious.
'Come in! Mom's out, but she just finished a batch of the most divine mince pies.'
'So you decided to forego the pleasures of skating at the Luthorcorp plaza in favor of the doubtful charms of Crater Lake?' Chloe beamed at the pretty, dark haired girl, who still favored thick glasses and braids, and sat down on the couch before the fire.
'Mom wanted me home, and what she wants she gets; besides I was missing the home cooked. How're you? Still torching the establishment?'
'I try; actually I wanted to ask you something work related. Do you know a Logan Rathmore?
'Hmm. Yes, actually. He came to us a couple of days ago-- the same day I came down for the holidays, he's a friend of my boyfriend's brother. He's been looking at the debris of the storm in the old barn, at least the shell of the old barn.' Sophie handed Chloe some cocoa and continued.
'I think he was interested in the aftermath of the storm. How the community is rebuilding the town, recovering from the physical and emotional devastation.'
'And he finds evidence of that in your old barn?' Nobody could do skeptical like Chloe.
'I don't really know how the creative /reporter mind works. Maybe he wants to write a story on each piece of flotsam or jetsam, I never know the difference between the two or even if I should use the words at all?' Sophie crinkled her brow.
'I know what you mean, neither can I' Chloe encouraged.
'But yeah! Coz there was like loads of stuff that got dropped on the property as the twister sort of petered out near here. I swear to you, there was like a pianoforte and a whole collection of Noddy books. And like a painting, which Mom thinks is from the castle but we don't know for sure. Mom wanted it evaluated anyway. I actually had to go to an art dealer on Crillington Street with the bloody thing wrapped in newspaper. Turns out its quite valuable, but the cost of restoration is more than we can afford at the moment. My boyfriend was quite amused. Told that story for weeks. And plus there was this entire filing cabinet, battered but unbroken. I think Logan actually managed to get it open.we had never bothered-- what with the repairs to the house and me going to college.'
'Sophie. Sophie listen! Did Logan take anything from that cabinet?'
'He may have, but he ought not to really, without asking mom. But he did leave something on the hall table, said he'd collect it later.'
Sophie pad footed over and got the manila envelope, while Chloe fidgeted in excitement.
'Its got his name on it--maybe he intended to ask Mom to take it home or maybe it's a draft of his piece with flattering references to mom.' Sophie tried to pierce the mysteries of the envelope by glaring at it through her thick glasses.
Chloe was so excited she could barely speak. It made sense that Logan would leave the incriminating evidence in a distant farmhouse. Very purloined Letter she thought to herself. 'Sophie-you must promise me this. If Logan comes calling you must tell him that somebody claiming to be a friend of his came and took this away. You gave it in good faith thinking there was nothing valuable in the envelope.'
Sophie looked at the younger girl. 'You up to your normal tricks Chloe? Ok. I don't feel too well towards that guy myself coz of the way he was making up to Mom. Slimy about describes him. And I know you are part of the 'for god and good' brigade, so yeah.'
Chloe hugged her friend before she ran out.
Lionel Luthor was extremely agitated that evening. Part of it was because he had been forced to send the entire day in Smallville while his crew was going over the helicopter as it had developed a minor problem. Also he had more or less agreed to give in to a petty blackmailer regarding some compromising papers that Lex insisted on leaving strewn about the countryside. He could of course have taken a tougher stance, but he was too busy at the moment to bother with taking the harder way out, instead he had opted for the shorter, quicker way but was still upset. He hated untidy endings.
Chloe Sullivan entered the office without ceremony; she had long given up the pretence pf politeness in the company of Lionel. She strode up to the desk and laid a sheet upon it.
Lionel looked down at the printed sheet.
Prince of Persia two, Game boy advance
Cesare Paciotti , style: Moondance, Color: jade, Size 36
Leather Jacket Gucci, colour black, style new anais, size 56
He looked up again at the blonde in front of him. 'What twaddle is this Ms. Sullivan?'
'That's a wish list Mr. Luthor. A plebian ritual observed on Christmas? This is one that I would like to give my friends but have never had the resources to comply. But I am sure you can be our secret Santa and remedy that defect.'
'The gaming stuff is for a friend who is steadfast and loyal-- qualities I am sure you would like to reward. Then a pair of beautiful shoes for a beautiful girl who may thus be inspired to walk again. And a leather jacket for another friend who had to send his last one back on the insistence of his parents. The last by the way will earn you the respect of Smallville's entire female population. You can hand the list to any of your assistants and they can come up with the entire list in two seconds.'
'You amuse me, Ms. Sullivan. Why would I do that?' Lionel said and then stiffened as Chloe drew a familiar piece of stationary out of her bag-- thick notepaper, richly cream, watermarked and crested with the Luthorcorp logo.
'Why, in exchange for another wish list that you certainly don't want to see on the front page of the Inquisitor.' She indicated the single sheet of notepaper with an inclination of her head ' very seasonal it is too.'
Lionel did not need to read the writing on the sheet; he already had the copy that Rathmore had given him. He could well remember the graphic nature of Lex's wish list, addressed to Santa, signed and dated.
'Very well, Ms. Sullivan, the community shall get back from me what it has so generously given. But remember, it's a very long tightrope that you walk, and any step may be fatal.' Lionel delivered the threat with practiced menace.
Chloe parried with wide-eyed innocence.
'Oh, but I was only protecting your interests Mr. Luthor. I thought you would be grateful. I recognized Rathmore as Metropolis's preeminent practitioner of sewer journalism in town today and correctly inferred you to be his target. The rest was footwork and some heavy-duty deduction.'
Chloe was beaming as she turned to leave the office. 'Happy Christmas, Mr. Luthor!'
As Chloe left, Lionel rang for his assistant and gave him the list and asked the goods to be delivered to the Sullivan house. He then called Belle Reve.
' Lionel Luthor.'
'Enlighten me doctor, when my son is released will he still retain-er-any attachments he may have formed in the past year, for a farm person.a minor farm person?'