"Lane - I thought you and Kent were chasing down Superman." Taylor asked.
"I'm making some calls now Chief. Leave it with me I can get this story."
"Yeah? Kent's making calls too. Except he's ringing in with a Superman story, not sat here chasing could haves and maybes."
Lois bit her lip. "Sorry Chief. Guess running around last night took more out of me than I thought. I should maybe take a leaf out of Lombard's book and get some beauty sleep while I'm at it."
Taylor laughed. "Nah, Lane, take one look at that lug, sleeping here never made him any more beautiful – and the thought of two lookers like Lombard is more than my poor heart can take.
"But seriously Lois, give Kent a break, I'm not asking you to marry the guy and have his kids, just stick with the assignment; two heads are better than one. Cover the ground apart if you must, but make sure you're working together – get it?"
"Righto Chief, Understood."
"Good. Well here's your chance; when Kent gets back I want you two to work up a piece to lead tomorrow's paper – I'm thinking a big Superman headline – So start scribbling. I want all the strands from last night tied together - but this time lets put big blue and red in the middle of it all.
Taylor read the prose the two Reporters has submitted. "You type this Kent?"
"Yes Chief – is it Okay?"
"Kent it's great. I'm tempted to fire you and then hire you on the proof-desk; and that's a threat by the way if you don't shape up.
"The pace and style of the piece - that's clearly Lois Lane; that's the fire I wanted."
"Thanks Chief."
"Save it Lois, I'm thinking I might just get Kent to sit down and teach you to use a type writer properly."
Lois pulled a face.
Taylor pulled out at mock-up of the Star's front page.
"This is how I see it."
A banner headline ran across the top of the page under the Daily Star motif. 'Announcing the newest wonder of the world!'
Then in triple height banner headline 'Superman!"
Then yet another banner headline. 'Governor Anders confirms existence of superhuman agent of justice!'
"I just wish we had a decent picture to run with. I hate to admit it but the Picture Post is eating into our circulation with it's image led format."
"I guess if it's pictures you want then we're going to have run with a camera. Maybe we'll get lucky." Lois suggested. "Kent here apparently managed to catch a glimpse of Superman this morning. "
"Thanks but no thanks Lane. You're better with a typewriter than you are with a camera. What about you Kent?"
Lois stuck her tongue out at the back of Taylor's head.
"Can't say I've taken many pictures Mr Taylor. I could try."
"Forget it for now. Stick with learning this reporting gag; I want to see Lane's fire in your belly and on the page.
"I'll guess I'll have look into finding someone to run with you. Should be some fella in Metropolis that can take a picture and wants the work. Until then we'll just go with what we have."
"Is that it Chief, are we done?" Lois asked.
Taylor blew a smoke ring and nodded, waving them back to the News floor.
Lois kicked back in her chair. "Well Kent, that's the end of your first full day. I sure hope things stay as interesting now you're here."
She laughed.
"What's so funny." Clark asked.
"Just that you 're so well... y' know square – and yet exciting things happen around you.
"Oh I'm sorry Kent that wasn't so kind of me.
"I'm tired."
"Okay Lois – I think I understand – Why don't I just take that as a compliment - but I'm sorry too, sorry that you're tired, you see I was wondering Lois,
"Wondering if you'd come dancing with me tonight?"
"Why Clark – are you asking me out on a date?"
"Would that be so terrible?"
"Thank you, that surprised me. I really didn't think you'd be the sort just to ask a girl out."
"What do you mean?"
"I had you pegged a the 'cautious lets be friends' type
"Shoot Clark - I guess I'm not making this partnership thing very easy; but that's my point, we work together, and it wouldn't be professional of us to step out together too."
"Oh, I see, but what if I told you I had ulterior motives?"
"Clark Kent – what would your Mother say!"
Clark looked shocked. "Nooo. I mean well, you're really very attractive and I mean..."
"Stop digging Kent. Just start over."
Clark took a deep breath.
"Y'know my Superman scoop."
"Yes Kent rub the salt in why don't you."
"I didn't mean..."
Lois interrupted. "Just tell me what your thinking".
Clark adjusted his tie. "Well I spoke to that poor woman; Mrs Connors, the battered wife, she wasn't easy to talk to, but I did manage to learn something."
"And?" Lois asked.
"Well I wanted to check it this evening – that was my other motive."
"So this date you had planned out was really work?"
"Yes; errm maybe I hoped we'd have some fun too. Is that so bad?"
Lois laughed. "Wait let me grab and coffee. You want one?"
"Thanks."
"Okay. There you go Kent, shoot. What did the Connors Woman say?"
"Sadly it went along the lines that her husband wasn't a bad man, that it was her fault because she made him mad, and so on – but then she told me that Connors had a job; y' know as if it made everything all right. She was real proud of that. She told me he was working as a doorman at a joint called the Atlantis Club and since the Cops have Connors running with Matson."
"Hey Okie my boy! Good work!" Lois beamed. "Word is Matson is muscling in on that place."
"Yeah that's what the News desk said; doesn't this pretty much seal it – Matson must be using the Club as his latest front."
"So you were going to take me down to the Atlantis to see if you could pick up any leads, and thought you'd stand out less if you were on a date?"
"Lois you make it sound like I'm just trying to use you to get a story."
She smiled. "You might yet make it as Reporter Clark Kent.
"Maybe that gal was right about me having to watch the quiet ones?"
"Pardon?"
"Don't worry your head cowboy – I was thinking aloud. Look. I'll suppose I'll give you a break - for a change."
"You'll come, but I thought you were tired?"
"I was. Just keep the coffee coming Kent and we'll see what see what we can see down town in the Atlantis joint."
Clark is surprisingly light on his feet, Lois thought and this was a relief, since they were in big shoes he wore. Lois had started out imagining him to be a clumsy dancer, and while Clark was no Fred Astaire he wasn't standing on her toes. Kent also needed to get a decent dress suit for starters; at least he isn't the only guy here in a lounge suit Lois conceded.
She had dressed up, wearing a low backed red evening gown, while Kent had stuck with his uniform dark suit; then again times were tough, he might not own anything better; but Lois was just used to her date's having more style.
After the second time around the floor she decided Clark basically managed to tread the fine line between, on the one hand being both dangerous and just plain embarrassing; and on the other - being mechanical, and just when you thought he might do something extraordinary – good or bad, he seemed to pull back keeping things predictably dull.
Clark made conversation, he even made her laugh a couple of times. finally asking.
"Lois why was it you did your best to avoid me in the office this morning."
"Clark, please I've been scribbling all day, last thing I want to do is talk a sob story."
"Sob story Lois?"
"Don't make me dish it out Clark."
Across the Club in a private booth on a elevated staging area a group of thickset looking men in lounge suits sat with a better dressed man wearing a classic black tuxedo.
A bull a man leered in Lois's direction. "Nice looking dame down there. Remind you of someone Andy-boy?
His friend a lean mean looking man looked in Lois's direction.
"There in the red." The big man pointed at Lane. "That's some hot tomato - guess I'll cut in boys."
"Mr Matson, do you think that's wise, the last thing we need is a fracas on the floor, I don't want to attract any undue attention to our business agreement." Said the better dressed man.
Matson laughed. "You old hen – stop clucking Brand. You owe me big-time – that means I own this joint of yours and it means I own you too. The first thing you need to get clear is that I always do as just as I please – when I please."
Brand persisted. "But what if her companion objects?"
Matson's cronies began to laugh derisively.
"So what if chunky gets nasty, I'll push his face into those goofy specs." Matson laughed back.
"This is going to be good – go for it Butch, and ask her if she's got any sisters, will ya – for me and the fellas?."
"That's for sure Andy-boy. Watch me go."
Butch Matson tapped Clark on the shoulder.
"Hey bub, mind if I cut in?"
Clark looked a Matson. "But this isn't a robbers dance." He said.
"Listen fella I don't care what you think, I said cut and run."
"Clark – don't let him push you around. Are you going stand up for yourself?" Lois said casually watching the two men face up to each other.
Clark sensed he was missing something, was Lois playing a game, her heart had begun to beat all the quicker.
Kent was already annoyed - just when he felt Lois was warming to his gentle charm. Now he was being backed into a corner.
Clark couldn't risk scrapping with this big man, whatever Lois might think. Kent recalled his first fight; the bully Brad Riley had almost broken his hand just by hitting him, this bull of man could hurt himself badly punching Clark; and in any other circumstances that would be just fine, but here in public, with Lois watching – such a fight could easily expose his double identity.
Instead Clark said meakly. "Sir I don't think your attentions are welcome."
"You being flip bub? Be smart - shut it, n' beat it; if you know what's good for ya!"
"Sir, really the choice of who partners a lady on the dance floor should be hers; if Miss Lane wishes to dance with you then I'll gladly step aside." Clark looked a Lois as much to say – you decide.
Lois glared at him. "Why Clark, seeing that you're so happy to oblige this fella – why don't you have a nice dance with him!"
"Doll you'll dance with me – and you'll like it, don't cha y' know who I am?"
Lois stared at the big man defiantly. "Butch Matson?" She suggested slowly, glancing back at Clark as she spoke. "I'm right aren't I, you're him; the man they call Butcher Matson?"
The big man laughed. "Is that a fact?
"Yeah that's me honey." Butch looked at Clark. "See fella – that's real steel." He laughed as he pointed at Lois. "No man has called me Butcher to my face... oh in a long long time; and now this sweet gal just stares me down and calls me out.
"Got to like your fire beautiful."
"The name is Lois Lane - Matson. That's Lois Lane of the Daily Star." And without catching breath she asked. "Isn't it true you've taken a majority stake in the Atlantic Club? Just how long have you been working your operation out of this place? "
Butch stopped grinning.
"A gal reporter, well ain't ya the model modern woman." Matson looked her over, dipping his head in an exaggerated motion so that his leer couldn't be misinterpreted. "Then again I can see why the boys up at the Star let you play with their toys – you'd sure brighten up my working day."
Matson then lunged at Lois. "Come here doll I'll give you something to write home about." He snapped.
Lois twisted clear of Butch's groping reach, and smoothly landed a loud and powerful open handed punch to the side of his face, the slap sounded loud and clear even over the music. Matson's cheek glowed an angry red.
"Well done Lois." Clark whispered under his breath, then he acted out his role. "Lois for God's sake don't provoke him!" He appeared to stumble clumsily between the gangster and Lane.
Matson growled a curse, and glared at Lane. He tried to push his way past Kent, Clark awkwardly stepped back but kept his footing, Matson angrily threw a punch at Clark as he tried to get at Lois. Kent rolled with the blow, he couldn't let Butch realise just how tough he was, falling wildly Clark actually controlled his descent so that he smacked his head against a nearby table; breaking it. Drinks went flying, a seated couple were forced to jump out of the way. They immediately began complaining angrily.
Kent now feigned injury, letting Butch believe the combination of blow, collision and fall had knocked him out cold.
Clark had ended the fight before it could really begin. At the same time his calculated play act had created enough commotion to bring the dance floor to a halt and drawn the attention of the room to Matson.
Brand clearly felt he had to intervene. "Is everything all right Mr Matson?"
Butch sneered. "Yeah I'm fine."
"I'll just throw these troublemakers out." Brand suggested, indicating to his staff to attend to the chaos, and placate his angry customers.
Clark got to his feet with the help of one the Atlantic's waitresses.
Butch was rubbing his fist. "You've a hard skull fella."
Andy-boy sauntered up. "Need any help here Mr Brand."
"I'm Okay." Clark stammered. "Thanks Miss, I think I can walk."
Lois grabbed him. Jamming her shoulder under his arm. "Come on Kent, let's beat it, before you cause more damage to more of the furniture."
Marston watched the girl reporter leave. He was fuming. " No dame says no to Butch.
"Especially one with an agenda
"Andy-boy I don't want to read about tonight – or anything about our operation in the Star; need to send a message to those print boys; follow her and that chump of boyfriend – if they take one of my cabs, well make sure they end up at the shop.
"If they don't take one of ours, y' know what to do - make sure they end up at the shop any way."
Lois and Clark found themselves escorted outside by the Atlantic's doormen, where Clark quickly straightened up, Lois gladly released him.
"Fresh air helps." He volunteered.
"Great work in there Cowboy." Lane said sarcastically.
Clark felt she was being unfair. "I can't believe you Lois – you deliberately provoked that thug, knowing exactly who he was."
"And I can't believe you! Clark men like Matson don't respect you unless you show some backbone; a real Reporter would have played his game, won him over, got him talking; but you were just spineless – you took a golden opportunity and wasted it – then managed to make a lousy situation worse."
"I was trying to avoid a fight..."
"Oh shut up. Y' know what my sob is story Kent? I'm a just a woman so I get stuck baby sitting you. Which is bad enough, but what's worse it that you're not only green Kent - you're yellow.
"And Kent I can't abide cowards." Lane informed him coldly as she opened the door of a waiting cab.
"Lois!" Clark pleaded to no avail.
Behind him Andy-boy strode out into the street, he gestured to the taxi driver. A subtle tip of his hat, was met with a nod of the head from the cab. Then the hoodlum then made a quick but clear hand single, one hand striking the other; the edge of Andy-boy's right hand chopping down on the palm of his left.
The Cabbie nodded. Matson's organisation was far reaching, and when he took over a joint he took control of everything; his suppliers provided the liquor, cigarettes, and staff; and you needed a ride – you rode in one his cars. The driver made an OK sign, before turning to his fare. "Where to Lady."
Lois looked his way, ignoring Clark, she gave her address, and the taxi pulled away leaving him on alone the side walk.
Clark had many amazing abilities, but he didn't possess eyes in the back of his head. He didn't see Andy-boy's hand signal, he didn't read anything sinister into the cab driver's gestures.
After watching Lois leave he dug his hands into his pockets, and reflected on his night.
It was not a complete disaster he decided; they had at least confirmed Matson was definitely entrenched here at the Atlantic, and while Lois unfortunately thought less of Clark Kent, that only meant she was less likely than ever to suspect that he was Superman.
His enhanced vision pierced brick and cement, his super hearing focused on the Butcher Maston's conversation with his cronies.
"That skirt has attitude, God I need a drink."
The hoodlum cursed, drank and recounted a lewd story.
Clark's loitering outside the Atlantic drew attention.
"Hey buddy, if you're taking a cab, take a cab, if not hit the street, you're making the place look untidy." Andy-boy suggested with malice.
Kent adjusted his fedora, and walked away.
He continued to listen.
Butch's lieutenant spoke to the Atlantic's doormen. "You and you - go and work that one over; bring him around the back."
Clark ambled along, hunched up he acted the part of a disgruntled guy whose just argued with his girl, it wasn't a big stretch for him. He listened to the footfalls behind him.
Putting a comfortable distance between the Atlantic's bright and well lit frontage the thugs waited until Kent slipped into the night's shadows.
Grabbing him from behind a rough hand clasped around his mouth while a second man jabbed him low in the stomach. Clark allowed his belly soften and absorb the punch, and the first man to drag into the even darker side alley.
"Work him over, and then we'll get him around the back to the club." The first man instructed.
Clark moved, ducking down, the man's hold was instantly broken, Kent by grabbing his mid rift tossed his assailant over his head at the second man; their heads connected, skull on skull knocking both unconscious.
The next second saw Clark Kent replaced by the red and blue figure of Superman.
The Man of Tomorrow leapt skyward, landing on roof of the Atlantic's roof.
Again he looked deep into the bowels of the Club; quickly he determined the gangsters were making their way outside.
"I sent a couple of fellas after the chump because he and the Lane dame had a spat; they didn't leave together, she grabbed a ride with Mickey; I gave him the signal so she's already on her way." Andy-boy told Butch.
On cue as the hoodlums walked out onto the street an expensive town-car pulled up in front of the club. Matson's gang climbed into the big auto.
"Ok boy's let's go back to the Shop and have a conversation with Miss Lane." Butch chuckled. His driver engaged the column shift and the big Cadillac pulled away.
Superman followed.
Lois was tired. She relaxed in the back of the cab, the driver was quietly getting on with his job, and that suited her just fine. She wondered why she had imagined that there were hidden depths to Kent; had she wanted there to be? Men consistently disappointed her.
Leaning back she closed her eyes, and teetered on the brink of sleep, then an unevenness in road surface caused the cab to jolt. This disturbed her; glancing out of the car she was immediately confused.
"Hey where are you taking me, we're down town, you're going in the wrong direction."
The driver didn't reply.
"Hey!" Lois jabbed his shoulder, "answer me you jerk."
The Driver glanced back taking a hand off the wheel he showed her a revolver.
"Now Lady let's not be stupid. I don't want to get nasty with ya, but I will unless you sit quiet and enjoy the ride."
Butch's limosine cruised across Metropolis and his driver followed the road through Troy State Park.
"I should have really given that chump a real going over." Butch took a drink from Andy-boy.
"You'll soon get another opportunity, the boys from the club will bring him over."
Butch's drink spilled all over his friend, as the big car lurched. "Hey you nut! What's up with you." He shouted at the driver.
"There a fool standing in the middle of road."
Matson leaned forward and looked ahead. "What he's doing star gazing? Drive at him. Give the nut a scare."
The driver gunned the gas pedal and the big car tore forward again.
"He's not moving boss."
"Is that a red coat he's wearing?" Andy-boy asked.
"We'll hit him!" Another said.
"Watch the chrome!" Butch yelled at the last moment, concerned for his expensive auto. The driver swerves. Superman jumps clear and somersaults over the speeding automobile.
"What the hell was that?" The Driver spat.
The men in the back turned around and looked out of the small rear window.
"I'll be damned – it's the devil himself, I swear that man - he's chasing us." Andy-boy spat.
"I don't believe it." Butch stated. Hit a leaver in the custom cabin the rear window dropped behind the seat.
"Pass me a typewriter, going to write this fella a letter." Butch snarled.
Andy-boy opened a hidden storage box in the car's floor, and passed his boss a Thompson submachine gun. Matson sticks the muzzle out of the rear facing opening and begins emptying the magazine at the pursuing figure."
"Die you son of a..."
"Butch he's not stopping!"
Matson could see Superman's face in the light of the muzzle flash. He couldn't believe his eyes, as the bullets even a this close range were having zero effect.
"Step on it!" Andy-boy urged their driver.
Superman grabbed the bumper of the car, sliding behind the Cadillac for a brief second before snatching the auto's driving wheels clear of the pavement, then he began braking the speeding vehicle, his boots sliding along the road surface, bringing the sedan to an abrupt stop – while pulling the car to himself.
Superman tipped the car up further, shifting his grip he tossed the car over his head and grabbing hold of the spinning prop Superman tore the drive shaft clear. The powerless rear wheels span on steadily slowing.
Balancing the town-car and its seven occupants over his head Superman flips the vehicle over onto its side.
One hand now taking the strain his fingers sink into the body work; with the other free hand Superman tears the doors off the big sedan while shaking the auto. The gangsters fall tumbling to the ground.
Then with a nonchalant toss Superman drives the expensive limousine into the ground. Butch's chrome crumples as the engine smashes into the empty cabin.
Superman turns to face the dishevelled, badly shaken hoodlums. They begin picking themselves up from the dirt, and the Man of Steel lets them.
Butch and Andy-boy aim their Tommy guns, the other's draw iron; and a hail of bullets rain down.
Superman steps into it grasping the submachine guns barrels in either hand he yanks them away, crushing them out of shape, the guns become so much scrap. The gunmen stop firing as Superman takes Matson in his hands.
"What are you? You're not human!" Butch gasped.
The Man of Tomorrow held the big man clear of the ground by his coat replies. "You're right. I'm superhuman.
"Tell your boy's to toss their guns, they're harmless toys where I'm concerned, and if one of them let's off a shot the only person they'll hurt now is you."
"Do it fella's."
"Toss them here, to me." Superman commands.
Guns arch through the air. Superman turns, catching and crushing the remaining pistols.
"You might have me, but my people are everywhere, I'll..."
Butch's voice was drowned out by rushing wind, the ground vanishes beneath him. Superman powers upwards.
"Up up and away Butch."
Superman was angry, he knew Matson's people had Lois Lane; they were taking her to something they'd had called the shop. Driven by his righteous rage the Man of Tomorrow's incredible jump drives him and the stunned gangster higher and higher. Looking back Superman gauges that he is now around two miles high above Metropolis famous park; then as he considers the enormity of this feat he senses the force of gravity. Hanging momentarily in the void he twists and then falls, with Butch Matson face down in front of him so that the hoodlum can appreciate the view.
Together they free fall.
Superman can hear Butch's heart beating overtime as the reality of his position sinks home.
Spinning him he pulls the gangster close to his face.
"Where is Lois Lane?" Superman asks his voice booms over the rushing wind.
"The... the... the... dame.
"She special to you?"
"Everyone is special to me Matson. Colour, the creed and the name don't matter, I'm there for everyone good and I'm going after everyone bad. Tonight that's you!
"And I know you mean to harm Lane."
"Go to hell." Butch spat at Superman.
"Your choice, your destination." The Man of Tomorrow replied.
His cape expanded a huge red shield behind him. Superman's fall was suddenly arrested, but Matson continued to tumble unchecked.
Butch screamed.
Superman allowed him too. Then adopting the arrow like shape of a diver, he was like a bullet cutting through the air until he snatches the falling man back to himself.
"That's the ground coming up fast Butch, shall we see if I can let go of you again before we hit dirt?
"Or will you take me to Lane?"
Lois was in the Butcher's Shop; in other words Matson's apartment. The gangster lived perched atop of a hotel which Lois concluded had to be another part of Matson's operation. An early tall building the Stanwix Hotel had fallen into hard times during the early days of the depression. It was sandwiched between the infamous Meat Packing District of Metropolis,where legend had it Matson had begun as pimp and enforcer; and the run down Village – a haunt of musicians and artists.
The Stanwix had come back from the brink, back from the sort of place that rented rooms either permanently or by the hour, enjoying an expensive refit courtesy of a mystery investor. This was undoubtedly Maston; and judging by the expensive details of his home he was living very well off the back of his immoral earnings.
The cab driver handed her over to two more operators working in the Butcher's organisation and then they had taken her via a private elevator that served the penthouse alone to the Butchers 'Shop'. She had been directed at gun point; forced to sit and wait - assured of Butch's imminent arrival.
His thugs watched her, nonchalantly handling their heavy automatic pistols, sipping expensive single malt scotch whiskey from Matson's comprehensive personal bar.
Silently they leered at her; conversation wasn't happening, her attempts at questions were met by threats of violence.
Lois Lane knew Matson liked knives. She knew he had worked as a butchers apprentice, before serving time in the big house from theft and violence; the legends were lurid. She was scared.
The door to Matson's apartment opened, and a tall slender woman breezed in, a white fox fur coat draped over a flowing white gown, jewellery sparkled.
"Hello Boy's – where's Matson?"
It took her moment to acknowledge Lois.
"Oh who's the broad..." she walked and talked, crossing the room the expensively dressed figure circled around. "And what have you done honey, to end up in this fix?"
"Dolores De Winters?" Lois asked, recognising the actress, but seeking confirmation.
"Shut it." The enforcer to her left demanded, the gun thrust forward menacingly in Lane's direction.
"Back down Shelby." Dolores cautioned as she relaxed into an easy chair just across from Lane. The actress lit a cigarette which she imeediately offered to Lois; the Reporter hesitated then took it. Lighting a second for herself, De Winters watched Lane closely.
"I know you don't I?" She said.
Lois nodded. "I work for the Daily Star."
The Metropolis Picture Post had run pictures of De Winters attending the premiere of the Starlets latest film; Lane had covered the opening for the Star. Seeing a good angle the Post's editor had run two similarly framed shots next to each other, one of Dolores and one of Lois; drawing attention to the fact the two beauties looked very much alike, knowing the comparison would annoy the hard nosed professional Lane.
"The famous girl reporter. My erstwhile twin." Dolores drew heavily on her cigarette. "Lois Lane – isn't it? Got to say you look really tired honey, guess you're having a hard night?"
"Couple of nights; from the frying pan into the fire you could say."
"Yeah I'd say you're out of your league sister. Our absent host has connections."
"Clearly." Lane replied her looking directly at the actress.
"Have these Gorillas offered you a drink Lois?"
"Can't say they have Dolores."
"Boys, boys, how rude of you, I'm sure they'd like to put that right. You can mix a martini can't you Shelby?"
Pocketing his iron Shelby made his way to the bar. Clearly she has influence with these goons Lois thought; wondering what kind of relationship existed between the rising starlet and ruthless hood.
"Didn't know you and Matson were friends." Lois said.
Dolores laughed. "Butch doesn't really have any friends Lois."
Shelby offered two martini's.
"Thank you darling." Dolores purred, passing one to Lane. "In life I've found it's best to stay on the right side of the rich and influential; it's advice I'd recommend to you, but I think I maybe already too late."
"Thanks – I feel a whole lot better knowing I'm done for."
"Oh Lois! I didn't mean to suggest anything so dramatic. Don't worry." De Winters smiled. "I'm sure together we can convince Mr Matson that you could yet prove useful."
Lois stared defiantly at the actress.
Dolores wasn't impressed. "Cut that act out sister, you know the score, in this world a girl has to compromise to get ahead."
"I don't know that at all."
"Then that might just be the last thing you don't ever know." De Winters snapped.
"Think about that Lois Lane.
"They say it's a Man's World Lane, but I say more than that it's a world that's owned by particular men, men like Matson – and the rest of us just have to get by the best we can."
Out of a cloudless sky came the sound of thunder. The Man of Steel crashed down onto the balcony of the Stanwix Hotel's Penthouse suite.
The unexpected sound of his arrival shocked Lane's laconic guards; the noise defied rational explanation – how could anyone be outside when they were hundreds of feet above the street.
"What's going on?" De Winters demanded.
The enforcers shrugged – they stood puzzled aiming their pistols through the glazed doors into the night. Then emerging from the deep darkness outside came Superman.
Effortlessly pushing his way through, locks popped, and wood splintered, the caped man walked into the room carrying a very dishevelled Matson.
Superman smiled warmly.
Putting the gang boss down by his feet the Man of Tomorrow slid him across the polished floor. Butch looked thoroughly terrified as he skidded to a halt beside an empty easy chair.
The two hoodlums recognising their boss, overcame shock and confusion sufficiently to react in predicable fashion, and began emptying their pistols at Superman.
Not that this mattered; with pace and grace the Man of Tomorrow's fist contacted with the nearest man, his free hand whipping away the hot automatic and tossing the stunned hoodlum aside Superman shoved him across to room to join his boss.
Dolores screamed.
The second thug grasping the futility of shooting at the caped man turned his weapon at the women; aiming his gun at Lois.
"Stop – or I'll shoot the girl."
Superman stared at him coldly. In terror the hoodlum fired.
Faster than a speeding bullet Superman intercepted the slugs lethal trajectory catching the hot metal in his outstretched hand; his dash creating a unnatural wind that upset De Winters knocking her over.
Lois gasped. The caped man was everything and more than she had imagined. Superman turned and winked at her.
"Miss Lane I presume."
"Superman." She said, her voice a breathless whisper. As the Man of Steel a blue and red blur took the remaining pistol from the enforcer Dolores had called Shelby. Superman crushed the gun into so much scrap metal, before knocking Shelby down and placing him along side his friend and Matson.
"I can't believe it, you're so... fast." Lois said. "And you are bullet proof."
"No need to be afraid of me Miss Lane." Superman replied, looking over at the criminals on the parquet floor. "You guys however should stay scared and stay there."
Dolores peaked over the overturned chair.
"I'm sorry if I've upset you - Who are you Miss?" Superman asked her. She didn't answer.
"Just so you know - I'm not scared of you." Lois informed him, adding. "That woman is Dolores De Winters, the actress."
"Is she all right?" He asked. "I didn't mean to knock her over."
"Oh she'll be fine." Lois said. "She's just had a big shock seeing you I guess."
Superman walked over to the men, lifting the boss man off his feet. "Matson are you in business of kidnapping attractive women? What's your game?"
"De Winters came here of her own accord Superman..." Lois stated. Then she paused embarrassed. "Oh may I call you that – I mean call you Superman?"
"I'm reliably informed that's the name people are calling me, so sure why not?" Superman dropped Butch to the floor once more.
"That is an S isn't it? There on your chest? I was wondering what it stands for..."
"The symbol on my chest stands for hope, so yes that's who I am – Superman. You're always working Miss Lane, always the journalist?"
"Lois. Please, call me Lois."
"As you wish. Lois."
Superman scanned the room.
" I have a confession." Lois began.
"What's that Lois, I hope it's nothing criminal."
"No! Its this; you see it was me - I started it, I kind of plucked the title, the name, 'Superman' out of the air, I mean I just came up with that, well by accident."
"I'm grateful for the vote of confidence."
Superman approached the cowering actress. "Do you need a hand Miss De Winters."
She shook her head.
"Cat got you're tongue Dolores?" Lois asked.
"I can see you are both physically uninjured Lois, I hope that they have treat you well otherwise?" Superman asked.
"I'm fine thank you." Lois replied. "But what are we going to do about them?" Lois pointed at Matson and his men. "And her." Looking at De Winters.
"Good question Miss Lane."
"Matson and crew." Superman commanded. "Stand and raise your hands."
Slowly the three men got to their feet, looked at each other, and stuck their arms in the air.
"Turn around, face the door, and keep your hands up."
"Superman – what are you doing?" Lois asked.
The Man of Tomorrow smiled. "Watch the door Lois, and in three, two, one..."
Lois looked, and with a crash a familiar face burst into the room, surrounded by uniformed men.
"Steven!" she called out.
Detective McBrodie accompanied Metro-PD's finest entered their guns drawn. They were more than surprised to see Matson and his compatriots already surrendering.
"Lois are you all right?" McBrodie asked.
"Yes I am – Superman saved me!"
"Where's this Superman Lois." The Detective strode over and took hold of her hand.
Lois looked around. "He was just here. Honestly Steven, I guess as you arrived he must have left."
"Okay darling just tell me what happened."
"Well I ran into Matson at the Atlantic club, I asked him some questions, I guess he didn't like that - next thing I know one of his crew has me at gun point and then drops me here; we were all waiting for Butch to arrive. Then when he does, it's with Superman.
"God knows what Matson meant to do with me, but Superman must have got to him first."
McBrodie turned on Matson. "So Butch looks like I have you banged to rights, kidnapping is felony."
"You've got to make it stick yet copper." Butch replied shakily.
The Detective smiled, saying with relish. "Cuff them boys." Metropolis officers closed on Matson and his men, handcuffing them.
"Is that Dolores De Winters?" Steven asked pointing at the actress; she had recovered some of her poise standing beside the fallen chair.
"The same." Lois replied.
"Okay, this gets weirder and weirder. Is she a captive too?"
"More a guest. For details you better ask her."
"I think I will - down town." McBrodie gestured to his officers. "Look after the Lady, and give her nice ride to Central."
McBrodie hugged Lois. "I so pleased you aren't hurt." He said. "I was so worried when I heard Butcher Matson had you."
Lois briefly hugged him back. "But how did you know he had hold of me - that I was here?"
"Central received a tip off that Matson had kidnapped Lois Lane. That he was holding you against your will at the Stanwix."
"That would have been me Detective." The Man of Steel said; appearing suddenly once more. "I left Matson hanging from a handy telephone pole on route, while I placed the call."
"I thought you'd gone?" Lois asked, leaving McBrodie's clinch.
"Without saying goodbye?" Superman winked. "That's really not my style."
"I just took the opportunity to look around Matson's operation while Metropolis's finest looked after things – and you in particular it seems."
Lois blushed.
"Besides before I go I wanted to check this out." Superman walked over to wall mural, the raised relief panel showed Deco figures posed like Greek athletes.
The panel was hinged, and the Man of Tomorrow swung the art work aside, there was a wall safe concealed behind it.
"You don't mind if I have look in here do you Matson?"
The Gangster looked at Superman aghast, and before the still stunned felon could answer, Superman said quickly. "I didn't think so, seeing we're all so well acquainted." Extending his fingers he punched them through safe; between the door and main body of the steel box, its metal screaming in protest as he levered it asunder as Superman ripped the safe open and revealing the contents.
"Detective this should interest you." Superman suggested. "Among other items stored in here are ledgers showing the details of Matson's illegal operations.
"You should also check out a couple of room on the fourth floor of this building, some of the photographic negatives stored in this safe should explain graphically why there are concealed camera's in those rooms."
"Thank you." McBrodie stuttered. He and his men were dumbfounded by this display of unparalleled might.
"Well miss Lane now I should get going. Pleasure to meet you Detective McBrodie."
"Hey! Superman! I need a statement, you need to come down town with me and..."
"Detective we both know that isn't going to happen." Superman replied. "You have Miss Lane, you have the evidence from this hotel; you have good reason to search for more; and of course you have Matson."
"Look fella I'm grateful for what you've done, and I don't want to get into this with you but." The blond Detective directed his gun at Superman. "it's the way it has to be."
"Lois I'm sorry, but I'm going to leave it up to you to explain to your boyfriend why he's wasting his time.
"Goodbye Ladies, Officers."
"He's not my boyfriend." Lois said as Superman sped to the balcony beyond.
"I'm not?" Steve spluttered, before remembering his job. "Stop Superman or – damn you - I'll shoot!" He shouted.
Lois touched his arm. "Steve forget it. Superman is bullet proof."
"He's what?"
Superman leapt in the darkness and was gone.
"Super strong, bullet proof and unbelievably fast."