Step one was clear, find out who Kara Danvers was. Girls like her went missing all the time in National City, so much so that calling her disappearance news would be generous. Only a dramatic reappearance or solved case would make the front pages, though usually an arbitrary column deep into the papers was dedicated to whichever poor sap had vanished into the city's gaping maw of corruption. The woe of friends and family providing mild intrigue for its citizens before moving on to something more interesting like sports or fashion. Even if it took a deep dive, National City's public library was always a good place to start. This of course meant a commute to the heart of town, the glitz and glamour that all the songs were about shining out for the world to see. For those at the top, it was the pinnacle of American living. People all over dreamed of hitting that sweet spot, chasing a destiny the city was unlikely to gift them. Those of us who lived here long enough to survive the illusion no longer looked at the bright lights, we simply see darker shadows.
Ignoring the bright signs and smiling grifters offering the world was easy. The traffic and shouted promises fell away to a dull drone in the busy city. Servers on their way to start work and the moneyed having finished it littered the sidewalks as the inevitable shift from day to night was getting into full swing. The cloudless sky smiled on everyone, a smile that was knowing for some and wicked for others. I had things to do, so I side-stepped between these lines in the same way I shimmied through the crowds. The library was on the far side of it all. The edge of middle, the knowledge that lurked behind the shining lights.
The main city was a blur of noise as I sauntered up the stone steps of the library's entrance. The door was heavy, swinging itself shut after I made my way through. I exchanged a brief nod with the man behind the desk. The late shift and I had an understanding, a little knowledge of the city went a long way to ensuring privacy. You ask the staff here where I was or where I've been, you'd get ten different stories from six different people.
I was familiar with the archives, a dark room of shelves, paper and boredom. Several stations were spread out, magnifying lenses and lamps lit up each one. I picked out my favourite spot, good view of the entrance and close to the shelves with my back to the wall. For now, the place was my own. Any smell of smoke from previous inhabitants had faded leaving a strangely clean air to the place. The inevitable rustling and lack of grace followed as I picked out all the newspapers I could get from the last two months beside my station. There were a lot of blanks to fill, educated guesswork was all I had to go with. Recent job probably meant recent disappearance. Starting with today's paper and working backwards was the order of the night. Sifting through everything for what you needed to learn or spotting some obscure details in an old article was a part of the job no-one cared to ask about. The grind didn't match the false personality of the city, that one easy step away from the big time. Spotting patterns and coming out on top took work. This was a side of me I couldn't let people see. Knowledge was power, making it look effortless was all part of that game. Sore eyes and tested patience was to be expected, it was the taste of cold metal with no burn from my empty hipflask that made the task difficult. The piles of read newspapers I had were neatly stacked on one side, ever growing onward as natural light faded to brightening lamps.
I saw the name Kara Danvers crop up a few times amongst the vast stacks. The name itself was strangely uninteresting on the surface. No articles of disappearances or anything out of the ordinary sprung out. What was interesting was the context of this name. It only ever appeared in the Daily Planet. Articles weren't about her, they were written by her. A small variation in topics, but of the dozens that had appeared over the past few months the main trend were puff-pieces about the one and only Lena Luthor. Most pieces about that particular woman were speculative nonsense about her private life. This town loved to talk and Lena Luthor's exploits were always quite the hot topic. Some man or scandal she was involved with plastered near the front pages that always petered out to baseless claims with no evidence. As long as it got attention the press would keep on churning it out. Danvers' articles differed from this, more akin to the day in life or personal anecdotes from the woman herself. The lack of accusation or controversy saw Danvers' articles relegated further back with less column space to play with. Her name also stopped appearing from papers three weeks ago and onward. For now, it was neither here nor there. A more direct involvement with a Luthor and a disappeared reporter who potentially knew how to play to her strengths. To those that paid attention, people who got overly interested in the dealings of Lex Luthor had a habit of disappearing without a word. Danvers' apparent fascination with his sister was unlikely to be a coincidence. It was enough to work with for now and if this was a dead end, I would no doubt be back at this very spot to swim through more paper. I wiped as much of the ink smudges on my fingers off as I could and looked at the clock ticking away at the end of the room. It had hit a time on the threshold of late and early. Packing away all the newspapers always felt longer than going through them all. After the age of re-shelving I bid goodnight to the staff and went out to the biting air of the still bustling city. The day's work was done, for now it was matter of supplies and maybe getting a couple hours of sleep before the morning truly came around.
A lifeless journey back to my shady corner of the city was at least warmed with fresh cigarettes and the satisfying sloshing of a newly filled flask. The doors to my office were suspiciously co-operative this time around. A brief once over of the office saw that nothing was out of place or moved. I went through my side door and washed away the remaining ink. The water I splashed over my tired face was as much refreshment as I could be bothered with. I crashed into my unmade bed, thinking briefly on the new information I had to play with before sleep found me.
I woke up with a start, sunlight was peaking through the broken blinds and birds ignorant of my harsh headache loudly chirped at each other. I checked the time, four hours sleep was practically a record. No doubt my guy within the Daily Planet was already up and ready to tackle the day. It would be right to give him some time to settle before I inflicted myself onto his office, or at least that was what I told myself. I stared at myself in the wash basin's mirror, I was surprisingly put together all things considered. A fresh set of clothes and I looked practically respectable. It was another cheap suit day, everyone in the National City news business liked to have a shady friend. For Jimmy Olsen, I needed to play that shady part to the fullest. A relationship where he was happy to hear what information I had to part with, but never happy to actually see me. Turning up to his office unannounced would put him in the mood to get rid of me, which meant getting what I would need to hear out of him faster. It was always fun pressing that guy's buttons.
It was an easy enough trip, the morning was when this town came the closest to relenting. The peace was short-lived when I invited myself into the Daily Planet's office. Even from the inoffensive lobby I could hear typewriters hammering away. I was greeted by cream-coloured walls and an unimpressed secretary giving me the once over. No glasses on this one. The other one at the desk seemed to pay me little mind.
"Can I help you, sir?" she said, the potted plants at either side of her desk were real, her smile wasn't.
"I've got an appointment with Jimmy Olsen," I said, leaning on the desk to peak at whatever she was doing to pass the time. It was mostly paperwork, phone numbers and scheduling. I did spot a book tucked away out of sight, if I didn't have better things to be doing I'd have liked to have found out what it was. I paid attention to her again, she was flitting between pages, inevitably looking for an appointment that didn't exist.
"I've got nothing in the books," she said.
"Then let's call this appointment off the books," I said. She remained unimpressed.
"I'm sorry sir, you'll have to make another appointment or try another time," she said.
"Just get a message to Jimmy that Monarch wants to see him. If he says he ain't interested, I'll get out of your hair, as lovely as it is," I said. I backed off the desk and slumped my shoulders, body language was important. Too domineering and she would tell me to leave. She tapped at the desk and weighed up her options with an impressive lack of subtlety. Most people in her position would feign politeness, my cheap suit and mannerisms invited rudeness. It played well with Daily Planet types, acting smug was as easy as breathing to them. After this deliberation of hers she grabbed a pen and squiggled down a note. She handed it off to her counterpart who promptly disappeared behind the glass door into the main building. I took a seat, my new friend keeping her suspicious eyes on me. I shifted and played with my pockets to keep her on edge, it would probably the only real excitement she got all day. Before long the man himself emerged in the lobby. Jimmy Olsen was tall, dark and handsome. Did well for himself getting into a such high position at an established paper. A little broad and the bowtie was a bit much, but he was as well liked as other journalist.
"We'll talk outside," he said. He was stern and strode past me. I shrugged at the irritated secretary.
"I'll remember to book an appointment next time," I said.
"See that you do, sir," she said, clearly robbed of the satisfaction of getting to kick me out. I went back outside. I looked to my left and right, the sidewalks were getting busier. There was no sign of Jimmy. He must have dipped into the alley straight away. I rolled my eyes, always one for dramatics. Being the shady friend apparently meant talking in shady places. I took my time strolling round to it, enjoying the air and whistling to myself as I turned the corner. I was greeted with dumpsters and an emergency exit, this alley was trying too hard to be stereotypical. Jimmy's arm were folded and his foot was tapping a groove into the ground. I took out a packet from my pocket and lit up a cigarette
"Well?" He said. I offered the pack his way when I approached.
"Want one?" I said.
"You know you can't just turn up here like this," he said.
"That's a no then?" I said. He hesitated, then grabbed one. He used his own match to light it and took a long drag.
"You know you can't just turn up like that," he said.
"Worried the desk staff will think less of you?" I said.
"I have enough problems being who I am in my line of work, don't make yourself another one of them," he said. I shrugged.
"You know, that's actually a fair point," I said.
"Getting me worried in advance for what you're about to say? That means what you're about to say is going to be a big problem," he said. He was going through his cigarette fast, already tapping away some ash.
"I've become predictable. How very careless of me," I said. I leaned against the wall
"Make your point Monarch, is this a story or do you want something from me?" he said.
"Both. The name Kara Danvers mean anything to you?" I said. His eyes flitted away ever so briefly, enough to give my answer.
"And what if it did?" He said. I fished the photo out of my pocket, his expression dropped even more upon seeing it. Guilt was easy to spot in the soft-hearted.
"I just find it interesting that one of your boss's own people has vanished, yet your paper has nothing to say about it. I'm sure rival print would have quite the time looking into this strange oversight," I said. Jimmy folded his arms, he was always thought himself above the games.
"Say what you want to say, Monarch," he said.
"My theory is a certain powerful man is using his influence to keep this Danvers disappearance quiet. Of course, a good man like yourself would like to see a nice girl like her reappear unharmed I imagine," I said.
"If you're asking these questions then you're not going to stop looking for her…" he checked behind him and looked past me, as if checking for someone who may have strolled into the alley on a whim. He switched to a hushed tone "All I know for sure was that she mentioned looking deeper into LexCorp. I warned her off it, but she's a stubborn one. Surprise, surprise she stops turning up at work. Whenever I ask about her, tells me she's off on assignment in Metropolis and then gives me no more detail," he said. I stroked my chin, it at least confirmed my working theory. It gave me little else to go on.
"If you were in a position to look for her, where would you start?" I said. He thought for a moment.
"Those articles of hers were from face to face interviews with Lena Luthor, if anyone knows what's going on it's her," he said.
"Oh, great. I'll just call her up for a chat and I'm sure she'll tell me everything," I said.
"She's going to be at an exclusive ball hosted at the Hilton tomorrow night. I can't wrangle you in with the Daily Planet, too many of the wrong eyes on us. That's the best I can give you, I don't know any more on this that can help. I'm sorry," he said.
"I think that should be enough. Thanks, Jimmy," I said.
"Call ahead next time," he said. He flicked away his cigarette butt and stomped out of the alley. I watched him leave in his huff. Must have been frustrating seeing Danvers disappear and not being able to do anything about it. I at least had solid intel now and knew I was on the right path. Now it was simply a task of arranging a meeting with the National City's top socialite and treading on the toes of Lex-Corp, the richest corporation in the country. $500 dollars suddenly felt very stingy. This should have been a dead end and a perfectly good excuse to bail. Unfortunately, I had an avenue to make this work. I didn't like it, but a trip to The Legion was the next order of business.