A Death in the Family, Part Two: Chapter Eight:
The Luthor Corps building was a large, glass-encased structure with tinted, slate blue windows. It towered over the city of Metropolis with seventy-eight stories of offices. Clark felt dwarfed by its enormous presence, but he was on a mission. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the lobby and saw from the plaque on the wall that Lionel Luthor's personal office was on the very top floor of the building. He pressed the button and waited for it to arrive. A large portrait on the far wall to his left got his attention. A seven foot painting of Lionel Luthor seated at his desk was very striking, but the image of a smiling Lex standing behind him with his arm casually draped over the back of the chair got Clark's attention. The Luthors, Lionel in particular, were very good at playing the family image for the public, and it was surprising to Clark how easily Lex seemed to go along with the games.
The elevator's bell woke him from his stare at the painting, and he stepped aside to let the people exit the car. After a few seconds, he entered along with a small group of other people who had been waiting with him. A sick feeling hit Clark as he listened to the sound of Lionel Luthor's voice over the elevator's loudspeaker. He was reading the latest stockholder's report. Where there should have been gentle Music being piped in, the elder Luthor had found a way to make even a simple ride from to floor into a business venture.
It took over two minutes before the car reached the top floor, and only Clark and one other person remained to get out. The doors open to a large reception area where a round desk with a lovely young woman (who Clark thought was wearing much too much makeup) sat behind it with her earpiece to the switchboard. Behind her, hanging from the finally varnished, blanked wall was the Luthor Corps logo in what Clark felt sure must have been real gold-plated letters. The large area was sparsely furnished with a few seats and end tables with the latest corporate reports placed neatly on each one. It was no surprise to Clark that these were the only reading materials. Life to Lionel Luthor had always been about Lionel Luthor and his company, and his offices were the perfect reflection of that.
Clark made his way over to the reception desk and smiled at the young lady.
"Good morning," she greeted him. "May I help you?"
"Yes, my name is Clark Kent, and I am here to see Mr. Luthor," Clark explained.
"Do you have an appointment?" She asked showing her pearly white teeth.
"No," He answered reluctantly. "But I'm sure he will want to see me."
"I'm sorry," she frowned. "But Mr. Luthor should be in meetings all morning, and we won't have an opening until very late this afternoon."
Clark leaned on the desk. "I am sure Mr. Luthor will clear a space for me when he knows why I am here."
"I'm sorry--" she started.
"Call him," Clark cut her short with burning eyes. He had not come this far to be turned around by a secretary.
She could see that he was serious and she thought to call security instead, but she could sense that he was not a danger to her, so she chose to honor his request.
"Mr. Luthor," she said into her mouthpiece after a few moments. "There is a young man by the name of Clark Kent out here to see you. He was most insistent."
She was silently looking up at Clark while she listened.
"Mr. Luthor would like to know what this is about," she inquired.
Clark thought for a moment. He only had one chance to get to Lionel with out having to force his way in, so he knew his response had to count. After a few short seconds, he said, "It's about his son, Lex."
She repeated what Clark said and waited for a response again.
After a second, she pressed a switch and pointed to the glass doors to her right. "Mr. Luthor's office is the last door on the right."
Clark made his way to the glass partition and she pressed another button, which buzzed the door allowing him to open it. With a simple hushed sound, Clark was inside the Luthor Corps inner sanctum.
Lionel Luthor was dressed in his usual attire of a black suit and tie and was speaking on the phone when Clark entered the office. He stood by the large plate glass window that encompassed the entire opposite wall from the French double doors. The motif of the room was very subdued and spacious. A large gray desk with a marvel fished top sat before the window with hardly any adorning other than the phone, a plotter and a Flat screen computer monitor. There was a very large black leather executive chair behind the desk and two smaller matching chairs before it. The walls were bare with the exception of a few diplomas and certificates of merit on the right wall, and the left wall was covered by a large metallic Luthor Corps logo like in the foyer, only these two letters were in the company colors against the stone gray back drop.
Lionel turned from the window to face Clark when he entered, but did not attempt to discontinue his phone conversation. A ploy Clark recognized as his attempt to show that he would be very much in control of this meeting, and it would proceed when he saw fit to do so.
Clark took the time to wander the office and read a few of the plaques on the wall near the separate smaller door that must have lead to another office. The walls were line with lead slats that added to the gray. He did not want to seem impatient or rushed, allowing Lionel to think that he had the upper hand.
Lionel continued to talk business and took his seat behind the desk, all the while not taking his eyes off of Clark who continued to roam the room. It had been a good fifteen minutes when Clark decided he had had enough, and decided to act on getting Luthor's full attention.
Clark made his way back to the wall with the diplomas and gently picked one off the hook that fasten it. He read the words again while it was in his hands and turned to face Lionel who was very much interested in what the younger man was doing.
He walked over to the desk and held the gray frame over his head with both hands and smiled at his host who watched attentively, but was not yet off the telephone line. Clark opened his grasp, and allowed the frame to tumble from his grip and it fell the full seven feet of height to the gray carpet beneath his feet. The matting of the floor did nothing to cushion the blow of the fall, and it shattered the frame into a thousand shard pieces.
"Jennings," Lionel spoke into the receiver. "I am afraid that another matter has just come to my attention and needs to be addressed."
Clark allowed his lips to curl into a slight smile.
Lionel hung up the phone on its base and turned his full attention towards Clark. "I assure you Mr. Kent, destruction of my property will not be met with such calm and a non-retaliation fervor ever again."
"I have no intention on having to attract your attention in this way ever again either," Clark assured him. "You are not the only person whose time is valuable."
Lionel positioned himself in his chair. "I think I can very well be certain that you are not losing thousands of dollars with each word spoken here like I myself am forced to endure by this intrusion. Now be quick and to the point Clark. Your position as my late son's playmate only allows you so many liberties with my time."
"Very well," Clark leaned on his desk giving a harsh stare. "What really happened to Lex the night of the accident after he left my house, and why are you trying to cover it up by implementing my family in some bogus claim of having supplied him with alcohol which lead to the crash?"
If Lionel was surprised by these allocations, he made no indications by showing his true reaction. He placed his hands together with each fingertip touching its mate and held them close to his lips. He allowed a small smirk to cross his face as he spoke. "My knowledge of my son's whereabouts and condition that night are far less informed than your own, Clark. All I have are the doctor's words and official police documents that states that my son was driving while under the influence of a lethal level of alcohol that evening."
Clark pushed himself away from the desk in a huff. He spoke as he crossed the room. "I find it very interesting that you would sight the police reports as your standing when we both know that the official report on the status of the vehicle was reported by your own company and not that of the publicly license police examiner."
"My people in the motor pool are very well trained and versed in proper legal proceedings," Lionel replied. "I assure you that should you bring this matter to the public attention, that all was handled in a fair and legal manner. My son's accident was handled in the same fashion as all Luthor Corp accidents. My staff is fully bonded and accredited in such legal procedures."
Clark had no doubt that if he were to look into the matter, that he would find that Luthor Corps had indeed found a legal way around the law to handle their own cases even in spite of conflicts of interest. He was not willing to give up so easily.
"Then why are you hiding the car?" Clark asked turning to face him. "No one outside of LuthorCorp employees have seen the Porsche' since that night, and you have not filed a report with Lex's insurance which would have required that their people go over the damage."
Lionel took a deep breath. It was becoming apparent that if Clark was not coming close to something, then he was surely annoying the older man. A task that he had partly hoped to do and he had hoped if he would make Lionel angry enough, then perhaps the CEO would unintentionally divulge something that Clark could use in his efforts to solving this riddle.
"I have already explained how and why the vehicle has come into my possession," Lionel started sitting forward. "The matter of the insurance is far more personal. My son was killed by his own recklessness that night, Clark, I do not need an insurance company to remind me of such just so that I may obtain financial rewards that I have no need or desire to acquire."
Lionel stood up and walked around the desk and approached Clark. "I have buried my son, Clark. I do not wish to linger in that moment or have my personal relationship with him dissected by you or anyone else."
"Lex meant a lot to me, Mr. Luthor," Clark spoke with gritted teeth as he attempted to hold his grief down. "He was taken from me that night just like he was from you. Only someone is trying to blame my family and me for his death. Someone is hiding something here, and every bone in my body is telling me that it's you who has something to hide."
Lionel stood toe to toe with the young squared jawed man. "I assure you Mr. Kent," he said with a determined tone. "If my son did meet with foul play on that night, then I would be as determined as you to find out what transpired and who was to blame."
Clark's chest was heaving up and down. "Then help me, Mr. Luthor. Help me find out what really happened that night."
Lionel stared for a moment longer and then turned away. "I have told you all I know," he said with a slightly hung head. "My son died at his own hands that night, and several bottles of the same alcoholic beverage that were in his system were found in your trash."
"There is more to this story," Clark pleaded with his big eyes. "I am sure of it. If you are not the one hiding anything, then prove it. Have Lex's body exhumed and tested. Find out for yourself what was really in his body that night, if anything."
Lionel was in a much more somber mood when he returned to his chair. "I am afraid that it would be impossible to do that at this point." He looked up at Clark who stood over his desk. "I had Lex's remains cremated over a week ago to prevent any further intrusions into his condition on the day of his death."
Clark could no longer find the energy to stand and fell back into one of the seats on his side of the desk. "Cremated? Why would you do that?"
Lionel studied Clark for a moment. "Because," he spoke softly, "you are not the only person to question the nature of my son's crash. It is enough that I have had to endure this inquiry once with the proper results, but I will not have my son's remains treated as if he were the shroud of Turin. I will not allow his body to be dissected over and over again until you or anyone else feels they are finally satisfied with the results."
"But Lex," Clark started.
"Lex," Lionel's voice boomed again, "is dead Mr. Kent. I will ask you one final time to leave this matter along and let it rest."
Clark looked down at his hands with a lost look in his eyes.
"Now," Lionel stood up. "In spite of my lost, I still have a company to run, and I need to get back to my work."
Lifting his head, Clark stared into his eyes for a moment. "Sure." He stood up and walked over to the door where he had come in. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Luthor."
Lionel made no response.
Clark turned the knob and opened the door. He was about to exit when he looked back one final time. "I know you would like for me to leave this alone," he said. "But I know that there is more to this than we are aware. So I know you can't help me any further, but I promise you, that I will get to the bottom of this, and I will find out what really happened."
Lionel was about to speak when Clark stopped him. "I owe this to Lex, Mr. Luthor," he said with a frown of grief. "Lex was not my playmate, he was my best friend." With that said, he did not wait for a response, but stepped out the door and left.
The older man stood still for a brief time in thought, and then he hastily picked up the phone again and pressed a number. He waited for a voice on the other end. "Randolph, get in here right now," Lionel huffed. "We may have a situation."
The Luthor Motor Pool's holding yard was on the Lower East Side of Metropolis. Perry White and Lana Lang were able to identify the wrecked Porsche' from outside of the chain link fence. They both knew it would be difficult to get in since the yard had a security guard posted at the main gate, which was about ten feet away from the garage building. They sat in Perry's car and formatted a plan. It would call on all of Lana's womanly wiles to lure the guard away and into the building away from the vehicles.
Perry was not surprised at how quickly the minimum waged guard was lured away by Lana who approached him and pretended to be lost. She told the guard how she was looking for the Luthor Corps offices and had mistakenly been pointed towards the motor pool instead. Among the noisy street sounds and passerby's, she told the man that she could not understand what he was telling her, and asked if there were a more quite place where they could talk and perhaps he could show her a map.
Lana made it a point to punctuate the words 'show me' by bending forward and revealing her bra strap under her loose shirt with the first two buttons unfasten. The guard was all too happy to acuminate her wishes and lead her into the garage.
At that point, Perry made his move and stepped out of the car he had parked about a block away and rushed to the gate that had been carelessly left unlocked. He searched out the car and began to look it over while taking pictures. He was unsure how long he had, so he would have to work fast and take a lot of pictures hoping to catch anything later that he might have missed then. It wasn't long before he spotted something very suspicious under the opened hood.
"Great Caesar's ghost," he murmured. He fell to the ground and pushed his way under the right tire and snapped a few pictures. He dangled a thin hose in his hand and then slid over to the other side of the vehicle. Again, he found the same tube like hose hanging freely from the body of the car with an identical piece detruding from the inner workings of each wheel. Moving to the back of the car, he found the two tires in the same condition.
It was a few minutes later when Lana couldn't hold off the guard any longer with out having to show more than she was willing to make public. When she returned to the car, with her note of directions, she was surprised to find Perry already waiting behind the steering wheel in the driver's seat.
"Did you have enough time to find anything?" she asked.
His eyes were haunted as he looked at her.
"What is it?" she asked again. "You found something, so please tell me."
Parry fiddled with the view screen of the digital camera in his hands until he found a suitable picture. He held it up to where they both could see.
"What is that?" Lana questioned with a puzzled look. "It looks like the back of a wheel."
"That's because it is," Perry explained. "That hose you see dangling is the brake line."
Lana examined the picture more closely. "Well why is it hanging? Isn't it supposed to be connected to something?"
"Yes," Perry answered with an equally haunted voice. "It should be connected to the other end of the brake line which leads to the brake peddle among other things. Each one of the brake lines to each of the wheels is like this."
"Wait," Lana hesitated. "Are you saying that all four break lines came loose? Or broke off?"
"Look at the breaking point of the lines, Lana," he pointed out. "Those lines did not come loose at an nature ending point to the hose, and they are much too clean to have been warned out or broken off by themselves."
Lana looked into his face for the first time. "Oh, my God, are you saying what I think you are saying?"
Perry took a few seconds before answering, and then with a low cautious voice, he said, "Lex Luthor's crash was no accident, Lana. Someone cut all four of his brake lines causing him to crash when he attempted to use them."
Lana's eyes opened wide as she looked at the picture again.
"It was not an accident, Lana," he repeated and then added, "Your friend Lex was murdered."
A horrible stare came over Lana's face, as she could not remove her eyes from the picture.
Clark had not wanted to get back to the Daily Planet so quickly after his meeting with Lionel Luthor, so he thought he would take a detour and walked to the cemetery where Lex was buried a few weeks earlier. Although he had been in a daze for most of the service, he knew where to find the Luthor plot sight. It was a large, block-shaped stone structure about twelve feet tall and about equally squared in each proportion. The crypt could be seen from the front gates, so Clark had no difficulty in finding it.
Approaching the grave, which was divided, into several equal cubbyholes like spaces where a coffin was slid into place, he could read Lillian Luthor's name on the section of the tomb where she was laid to rest. Then to his right, were the freshly carved letters with Alexander Luthor's name and dates. Clark had to swallow hard to keep down the lump in his throat. He ran his fingers over the letters of the name slowly. Then with a short snorting sound, he leaned forward allowing his head to rest on the cool stone.
Gathering all his courage, Clark stood up straight again and poised himself in front of the grave and began to fix his sight to look through the stone and see what was inside. He was unsure of what he was actually hoping to find when he saw it. He didn't want to see a dead friend, but if he did, it would also answer the first question and end his suspicions about the phone call. Then if he found someone else in the grave, it would just about prove that the call was real and his friend was counting on him for help. An empty grave would prove to be the equivalent of a false grave in Clark's mind, but wouldn't help to prove anything other than Lionel's decision to place the body elsewhere.
After a few seconds of concentration, Clark's deeper fear was confirmed. Lionel had not lied to him at the office. For inside the empty grave was a small pottery jar containing the ashes of whoever was buried here. The inscription on the urn read Lex's name and date just as the head stone had.
"No," Clark muttered leaning his head forward again. "Please, God, this can't be happening. There is no way of knowing if that is Lex." He pounded his fist a few times in the cold marble and even made a small indent.
It took Clark a few minutes to pull himself together and he wiped away a tear. Touching the name in the stone again, he made a vow to the man who may or may not have been inside the urn. "I don't know what is going on here, Lex, but I promise you that I will solve the mystery that everyone is trying to keep about your accident, and I promise you, buddy, if you are not dead, then nothing on Earth or in Hell will keep me from finding you."
He pulled back from the grave and looked into the sky. "So help me, dear God, I will find out what they did to Lex Luthor." Unaware of his own reaction, Clark had clenched both of his fists and held them up at his side. The young man determined at that moment that the quest for his friend would consume his life until he had accomplished his mission.
TO BE CONTINUED
***Notes***
I would like to thank everyone who has been reading my story and posting reviews. The reviews are what make this effort all worth the while, and I thank you so much. Please keep them coming.
To MitchPell: Thanks for your continuous support and reviews.
To Merrie: Thanks for your support, and I miss Lex too.
To Teri: Welcome aboard. I always love to see new readers enjoying my work. Please continue to let me know what you think. It helps what little ego I have stay above water.
To TimberLover: Please stick around, because there is allot more to come.
And in a very personal note to Holly. I want to respond to your e-mail over the weekend, and I thought it would be best to keep it in a public forum like this, so I hope you will read my story and see this note. I want to say that my heart his broken because we will not be able to write to each other over the net again, but I fully understand your mother's disapproval of writing to someone you have never met. I hope you will continue to follow her wishes and I will continue to pray for you. I hope I have been a support to you in the short time that we have known each other, as you have been a good friend to air out some of the darker places in memories with. I will continue to check out your bloggers and search for your poems here on FF.net from time to time. I will miss you, and as I said, I will be praying for you and that you may one day soon find the comfort of the Lord in your life. I guess if I could leave you one word of advice as I leave, it would be a fact that I have come to realize about life, and I saw Goldie Hawn use it in an interview a while back. That motto would be to always remember, "that this too will pass." As my years begin to add up in life, I realize that the things that might have been eating away at me in the years past mean very little to me right now. I have moved on and in most cases over come, but what ever they were, I now know that they have passed and now only hold a small place in my memories. So please don't let life get you down. Pray for truth and guidance and remember that God is always watching and you are truly never alone.
Take care of yourself kid. My best wishes and blessings from God go with you.
Phaze