A Death In The Family

by Phaze

A death has occurred in Smallville, but as Clark soon discovers, not all is, as it seems when you are dealing with the Luthors. *COMPLETED*

16. Chapter Sixteen

A Death in the Family:

Chapter 16

   The light in the small business office came on with a slight humming sound as Chloe Sullivan flicked the switch on the wall next to the entrance door.  It took a few small flashes before they seemed to reach their full wattage, but the overhead florescent light lit the room perfectly.

   As she entered, Chloe noticed how unimportant the windowless office seemed.  It was about ten feet by ten feet and only housed a few old chairs, a steel desk several years out of style, and two large file cabinets, each a different color and neither matching the desk.  She walked carefully to approach the work area which was stacked high with old files and paperwork that appeared to have been here for a great deal of time.  Morgan Edge may have been the owner of his comedy club aptly named 'The Edge,' but he was not much for extravagance or organizing his work.  A fact that Chloe thought could perhaps work in her favor.  If he had been careless enough to leave his papers sitting around so easily, then perhaps the clues she looked for would also be among the piles.  Her only prayer was to be able to know the clues when she saw them, and to have enough time to find them.

   Chloe worked her slender form around the desk and sat in the large chair reserved for the club's owner.  She began to rummage through the stacks of paperwork that sat before her.  She moved one pile to find a small picture frame.

   The picture was of a slightly younger Morgan Edge, a handsome woman, and an infant child in her arms.  They were all smiling and seemed genuinely happy when the portrait was taken.  Chloe mused over the picture a moment as she noticed the hand that Morgan had on the girl's shoulder held a wedding band on the appropriate finger.  It struck her as odd remembering back to the table when he reached for Lana's hand with his left.  There was no ring to be seen, or even any indication that one had been removed recently. 

   Chloe shrugged her shoulders.  'A lot of people get divorced these days,' she thought to herself.  Morgan Edge would only be one of the millions.  She returned the frame to its resting-place and returned her attention to the papers before her.

   The time had passed so quickly and Chloe was so engrossed by her work, that she did not heard the doorknob turn as it was slowly opened.  Looking down at the desk with great interest, she did not see as another person slip quietly into the room closing the door again.  The room's new occupant even had enough time to take a few steps in her direction before the movements was caught by the corner of Chloe's eye.

   "What?" she lifted her head with a startle?

   Salina Kyle stood a few feet away with a questioning look in her eyes.  "Who are you?"

   Chloe tried to look at ease, but fumbled with the files in her hands.  "Oh, hi, Salina," she stuttered out.  "We may not have been properly introduced out there, but my name is Chloe."

   "Okay," Salina slinked over to the desk.  "Now do you want to tell me why you are snooping through Mr. Edge's stuff?"

   Chloe placed the file down and gave her a large smile.  "I'm not snooping," she patted the papers.  "My friends seem to have left me for the moment, so I sorta found my way back here and then saw how cluttered this desk was, so I decided I would try and organize things to keep myself busy while I waited for them to come back."

   Salina cocked an eyebrow and looked her over suspiciously.

   "I swear I wasn't spying," Chloe added.  She then took a deep breath and decided to try and redirect the conversation.  "So, have you seen which way your boss disappeared to?"

   Salina sat on the edge of the desk and stared at her nails.  "Mr. Edge doesn't keep me informed of his coming and going," she sighed.  "He disappeared into the crowd and I thought it best to just come back here and wait until he needed me again."

   Chloe leaned back in the chair.  "What exactly do you do for Edge?"

   Salina looked back to her allowing a strand of her hair to fall across her left eye.  "I do what ever he wants me to do."

   The moment was heavy and uncomfortable, but Chloe knew she needed to keep her talking so the conversation would not turn back to her reason for being in the private office.  "Are you his mistress?" She blurted out.

   A snide smile came across Salina's thin lips.  "Are you looking for a sugar daddy of your own, honey?"

   "No," Chloe jumped slightly.  "I mean, I would never even," she stopped her words short as not to insult her the younger girl.  "Do," she attempted to sway the talk again.  "How old are you, anyway?"

   Salina stood up again and turned her back towards Chloe.  "I'm old enough to know that anything I have to do to stay with Mr. Edge is far better than anything I ever had to do to survive on the streets."

   "Are you saying that you were a hooker?" Chloe asked with a hint of disapproval.

   "Don't knock it, honey," Salina turned back to her.  "I know what men want, and getting paid is much better than loosing it for free."

   Sitting up again, Chloe placed her hands on the desk.  "Do your parent's know what you are doing?"

   Salina giggled.  "Sweetie, what I remember about my folks you can fit on the head of a pin, and the rest I would much sooner forget.  Besides, they gave up on me a long time before I gave up on them."

   "Still," Chloe added.  "You are very young to be living alone on the streets."

   Salina sat her petite form on a chair across the desk from her.  "You would be surprised at how fast the streets can age a girl.  It's sink or swim out there, and I learned to dog paddle a long time ago.  Now I have Morgan to watch over me."

   "But at what price?" Chloe let slip before she thought to stop herself.

   Leaning over the desk, Salina gave her a sly smile.  "We can't all grow up in Kansas, honey.  Some of us are born running while you country girls take your sweet time to blossom."

   "I grew up in Metropolis, Salina," Chloe told her with a firm resolve.  "I remember seeing girls like you on the corner from time to time, and I never could see how they could sell themselves so short.  Sleeping in Morgan's bed is only one small step and a wall away from standing on the corner."

   Salina shrugged her shoulders as she leaned back in her seat.  "I'd rather have a warm mattress under my back than the cold cement under my feet."

   Chloe allowed her eyes to roam the desk until she came across the picture frame again.  "What about Mrs. Edge?" She asked reaching for the picture.  "Does she know about your relationship with her husband?"

   The darker haired girl watched her with interest.  "That's a very old picture, Chloe," She told her.  "There is no Mrs. Edge, anymore."

   Twirling the picture for a moment, Chloe looked back over the short piles of papers to Salina.  "Did she leave Morgan for his wandering eye?"

   Salina sat up and reached for the picture in Chloe's hand.  "Mrs. Edge is dead, Chloe."

   Chloe sat stunned as Salina took the picture.  "This family portrait was taken only a few months before the Edge's world fell apart."

   "What happened?" Chloe asked with surprise.

   Salina stared down at the frame as she told her.  "Morgan's baby was born very sickly.  Mrs. E had been trying to have a child for years, and when it finally happened, she was thrilled.  Then, I'm told, the baby died shortly after from feeding complications.  The loss was too much and Mrs. E ended up killing herself.  Mr. E won't talk much about it, but I think she drove her car off the pier into Gotham City Harbor or something."

   "That's so sad," Chloe sighed.

   "Welcome to the real world, sweetie," Salina gave her a sly smirk.

   Chloe sat silent for a few moments not knowing what to say next.

   "So," Salina leaned in again.  "Are you ready to tell me why you are snooping?"

   "I," Chloe started, but then stopped her self before she could come up with any more lies.  "I came to Gotham City trying to solve a murder," she explained to a surprised Salina.  "So far the only leads I have lead to this club and your boss."

   Salina stood up and stared down at Chloe with a look of disbelief.  An angry look took her expression, and she placed her hands on her hip with a defiant pose.  "Now you look here, little girl," She started.  "Mr. Edge may be many things, but he ain't no murderer."

   "I didn't say he was," Chloe jumped up.  "I'm just saying that all the clues I have right now lead to this place."

   "You are crazy!" Salina screamed as the door to the hall opened.

   Morgan Edge stepped in with his two bodyguards in tow. "Now, Salina," He gave an evil grin.  "Is that any way to treat our guest?"

   Salina turned to her boss with a surprised look. "You would not believe what she is saying about you, Mr. E."

   "I know, I heard from the hall," He grinned again.  "You will have to forgive her, Salina.  Miss Sullivan is only acting as the puppet Lionel Luthor has set her up to be.  He is the one who has inadvertently sent her here."

   "But Mr. E," Salina looked puzzled.  "She's saying that you are a murderer."

   Morgan Edge walked over to the desk past Salina and stood across from Chloe with burning eyes.  "Then Miss Sullivan has done her job very well.  She came looking for the man who had Alexander Luthor murdered and she found him."

   Both Chloe and Salina's jaws dropped at the same time.  Chloe had discovered the story of the century with a confession added on for good measure, and all she could think at that very moment was that she would most likely never make it out of that room alive.

    The sound of flesh pounding on flesh was echoing through the dark night sky on the pier to the Gotham City Reservoir of drinking water supplies.  The faint thud of a bone or two being crushed under the layer of outer body fat could also be recognized, but Lana Lang, who kneeled next to the black water, could not take notice of the man who was being beaten a few feet away.  She was too busy watching the motionless water for any signs that her friend, Clark Kent, who she prayed was about to come up from the depts. The ripples had disappeared an eternity of seconds ago when he had gone under for the last time.  For some reason, the usually healthy and fit Clark, who was also a fare swimmer, could not swim to save his own life.  Perhaps the bullet that grazed the back of his neck has done more damage than she had feared.

   "Clark!" She screamed for the tenth time in as many seconds. 

   Lana dipped her arm into the water as far as she could.  Even on a warm summer night, the liquid was freezing cold and numbed her limb slightly as she frantically search for her friend.

   After a few moments, she hit what she thought were the tips of someone's fingers.  She leaned forward even further with her face only inches from the surface and felt the hand rising to meet her own.  Lana grasped onto the thick wrist with her small hand while the hidden person did the same around hers.  With all the might that she was not even aware she had, Lana pulled as hard as she could until the arm of Clark's tuxedo sleeve was fully emerged from the water.

   A split second later, his weary head bobbed to the top of the water and he fought to keep his mouth in the path of the flowing air.  His eyes were fluttering, but he was still alive.

   "Clark," Lana called to him again.  "Clark, don't go into shock.  You need to help me pull you out.  I can't do it by myself."

   Clark's weakened eyes opened slightly to look up at her lovely, fear filled face, but then closed slowly as if drifting away.

   "No, Clark," Lana cried as the weight of his body began to sink again.  "Please Clark, don't leave me."

   His body pulled her entire arm back into the water as he sank towards the bottom.  Lana fought the pain and bitter stings of the freezing water as she struggled to keep a hold on his wrist even after he had let her arm go.

   "No," Lana braced her head against the pier still holding on to her friend with dear life as the tears dripped off her face.  "Please, Clark," she spoke in a softer tone.  "Don't die on me, I need you."

   Just as the weight of the body was becoming too great and her arm felt as if it would be ripped from it's socket and that small voice of reason in her head began to speak the words, 'let go,' Lana heard the plunging sound of something else being submerged in the water only a few inches from her own hand.  Her vision was blurry and strained from holding her eyes tightly shut, but she allowed herself the moments need to open them and see what it was she had just heard.

   When her eyes opened, she saw Alfred Pennyworth laying on the same pier only inches away with both arms fully submerged in the same water.  She could then feel his hands following down her arms to reach Clark's hand.  Holding on one more second was sheer agony for her, but she knew she could not let go now.  Alfred would help her pull Clark up.

   Taking a deep breath, Lana summed up all the strength she thought she would ever have left in the world and used the small burst of energy to tug on Clark's arm one more time, raising him enough so he was in reach of Alfred's grasp.  She could feel a cheer inside her inner child as she realized that he too had a firm grip on Clark, and the two of them were pulling him up with a greatly reduced effort on her part.

   Lana stepped outside of herself as she watched Clark's handsome face climb out of the water once again.  This time the journey did not end at the surface, but Alfred was able to get himself up on his knees and pull as hard as he could ever remember having to pull such a heavy young person out of danger.

   Alfred was able to get a grip around Clark's chest and pulled the teen into his own body causing them both to fall back onto the wet dock.  When Alfred let the boy slip off of him onto his back on the splintered wood, he took notice that Lana was still firmly clasping the hand she had pulled him up with.  Only now, she cradled Clark's hand between her two.

   "Clark," she called into his closed eyes.

   "He's breathing," Alfred gasped for air.  "I will attend to your friend," he looked at Lana.  "I believe you would be best suited to aid Master Bruce."

   Lana allowed her eyes to drift from Alfred's stare to over her shoulder where she could see Bruce kneeling over Summers as if he were riding a pony and punching him mercilessly in the head and chest.  Suddenly the sounds of beating returned to her ears, and Lana's stomach began to turn.

   "Please, Miss Lana," Alfred pleaded.  "I shall make sure Master Kent's lungs are clear, but I can not attend to Master Bruce at the same time."

   A fatigued Lana nodded at Alfred and slowly made her way over to Bruce who was only a few feet from her.  She walked on her knees and made her way to his side.  She watched for a split second, and the look of anger and terror on his face were so consuming, that they made her wince for a moment.

   "Bruce," she spoke softly.  "It's over, Bruce."

   He continued to pound away as if her words were silence to him.

   "Bruce," she repeated.  This time she placed a gentle hand on his right shoulder.  "He's unconscious.  He won't be hurting anyone else tonight."

   Bruce Wayne lifted his right hand fist into the air over Summers slumped body for yet another time.  He held it in mid flight, hesitating as Lana clasped her own right hand over his with a soft caressing motion.

   His eyes stopped for a moment, and for the first time in minutes, he blinked.  The darkness of hatred and fear began to give way to the Bruce that she knew.  His teeth unclenched with a painful sounding slight snap of his jaw, and his right hand fingers began to untwine from their tightly rounded fist.

   Lana slipped her fingers under his and cupped them with her own hand.  She pulled the raging bolt of anger from mid air and gently eased it over to his chest.  Bruce moved his left hand from where it had been posed to strike next and placed over her hand that was holding his right.  She could feel the rapid beating of his heart through the fabric of the suit and shirt.  She moved her left hand from his shoulder to the opposite side of his head, and ran her tiny fingers through his sopping wet hair from the entire ordeal.  The hands on Bruce's chest were covered with the blood of the battle, but Lana did not care.  She had been able to pull him back from brink of total insanity to the world of the living.

   Bruce allowed his posture to slump as he looked down at the bloodied man beneath them.  He hung his head low against his chest.  "I couldn't save him," he murmured in a hushed tone.  "Just like I couldn't save them."

   "Oh, Bruce," Lana pulled his head to her chest.  "Clark is fine.  Alfred and I pulled him out of the water, and there was no blood so I think the bullet missed him."

   Bruce turned his face to her shoulder and began to shake as grief over took him.  His tears began to flow just as they had done on that faithful night thirteen years ago.  Lana held on tightly and allowed him to release his remorse.

   A few feet away, Clark was turned to his right side with Alfred resting Clark's back on his knees and lap.  It took a few strong belts on his back, but eventually Clark spit up a lung full of water onto the pier.  The action caused him to choke for a second and then cough taking in large gulps of air.  He began to flail his left arm and his eyes opened quickly to survey the area.  He turned his head quickly and looked up at a smiling Alfred.

   "Welcome back, young sir," Alfred commented with a grin.  "I believe you were greatly missed."

   Clark pushed himself up to a seated position.  "Lana?" he questioned.

   "She is very well and is, at the moment, assisting Master Bruce," Alfred allowed his gaze to turn to the two behind them.

   Clark looked around Alfred quickly and saw the back of Lana cradling Bruce in her arms as he still sat on the culprit.  His concern and worry were suddenly set aside as he realized that the two were having a surprisingly tender moment.

   Just as quickly as Clark had sat up, he fell back down on his elbow and the wrenching feeling he felt since the moment he went near the water returned with a great force.

   Alfred reached under his arms and pulled Clark up by his chest.  "Master Clark, are you okay?"

   Clark could feel his consciousness slipping away again.  "I need to get away from here.  I need to get out of these wet clothes and rinse off the water from the reservoir."

   "Of course," Alfred agreed lifting him to his feet as best as he could.  "I have the car waiting at the gate."

   Lana looked back and saw that Alfred was helping the staggering Clark towards the entrance.  "We can't leave right now," she called out.  "We have to call the police and have this guy arrested."

   "I'm afraid we have no time for legalities, Miss Lana," Alfred said as Clark slumped against his chest.  "I must get your young friend back to the manor and attend to his needs."

   "What about Bruce?" She asked, looking down at the man who was nearly catatonic with his emotion at that point.

   "We must get him away from here, also," Alfred warned.  "Whatever acts that the assailant had intended to perpetrate would be greatly reduced once the police saw the beating he received at the hands of Master Bruce."

   "But," Lana started.

   "Please, Miss Lana," Alfred gushed trying to hold Clark up.  "I am unable to do this on my own, and neither of these men are in any shape to stand up to questioning.  You must help me with Master Bruce."

   Lana thought to protest more, but instead looked down at Summer's bleeding body.  His pulse was strong, so he would be fine.  Once he did wake up, he would not be able to seek revenge tonight, so she decided to help her friends instead.

   "Bruce," she lifted his head to face her.  "Bruce, we need to leave now."

   Bruce shook his head slightly.  "We can't leave.  I've hurt someone," he muttered.

   "This guy will be fine," Lana assured him.  "We need to get you and Clark back to the mansion.  Clark is not feeling well."

   Slowly Bruce gave into her nudging and allowed her to help him to his feet.  As they were walking away, Bruce took a last look back over his shoulder as the battered and beaten body of his attacker.  He tried to feel remorse for what he had done, but all he felt was a swell of self-gratification.

   Once they were in the back seat of the limousine, Lana looked up at Alfred who was about to close the door.  "What about Chloe?" She asked.

   "I am afraid we have no time to search for her," he warned.  "We need to get the young masters settled in at once before any more damage or harm comes to either.  I shall retrieve Miss Chloe once that task has been accomplished."

   After the door was shut, Lana looked across to the other seat where Clark was slumped in the corner.  She held tightly to Bruce as he shook in her arms.  "It's going to be alright," she whispered in his ear.  "We're going home now."

   Across the way, Clark opened his eyes as the car jerked forward.  He saw that Lana was cradling Bruce in her arm tenderly.  He wanted to say something, anything, but instead he allowed his eyes to close tightly again, and fell asleep to his anguish.

   Pete Ross struggled, searching for the right key to open the door to Lionel Luthor's private bedroom in the personal living area he kept just off his office in the Luthor Corps building.  The light from the moon shining through the large windows of the parlor area was not helping his search.  None of the keys were labeled, and Pete knew the more time he spent in these quarters would only make his risk of getting caught higher.

   Then, with a sigh of relief, he found a key that not only fit in the slot, but with a slight twist of his wrist, the device turned in the keyhole.  Pete was almost beside himself with glee as he realized his accomplishment.  With a swift flick of his hand, he unlocked the secret door.

   He allowed himself to stand tall taking a deep breathe as he turned the knob.  Slowly, the clasp that held the room shut off to him retracted into the frame of the door, and he was able to push it forward.

   A dim light shone in the new room as he peeked his head around the divider to see what he could.  The dimmer switch was turned down very low, but Pete knew that an empty room, such as the last two had been, would not have a light on at all. 

   Pete saw that there was a hospital bed in the center of the room, and a few high priced and very technical machines stood on either side.  The bed seemed unmade and recently slept in, as the covers seemed to be tossed aside quickly.  An IV bottle hung from the head of the bed on a pole, but the tubes attached were resting on the blue regulator box on the stand.  Everything in the room gave a distinct impression that someone sick was still using it, and could very well still be here somewhere.

   Pete walked slowly around the bed inspecting everything as he went along.  He placed his hand on the mattress, and it was not warm, but was also not cool, as it should have been if it were left emptied for a long period of time.

   He spun around trying to see every inch in the dim light, but after very careful inspection, Pete found himself alone.  Who ever was here was either gone, or hiding.

   "They're out there," Clark, said leaning his ear against the closet's inner door.  "Someone is coming to give you more mind altering drugs to make you sleep, Lex."

   "Shut up," A groggy and weary Lex grunted from the floor under a few garments where he was trying to hide.  "They'll hear you."

   Clark chuckled at the sight of Lex cowering in the corner with the wooden horse Clark had made him press tightly against his chest in his wrapped arms.

   "What are you afraid of, Lex?" Clark asked.  "They've already done their worst."

   Clark squatted down to Lex's level.  "Look at you, guy," he grinned.  "The great and mighty Alexander Luthor has been reduced to a helpless infant holding his wooden toy as he cowers in the closet of his own bedroom."

   "Stop it," Lex frantically covered his ears.  "Clark would never treat me like this," he stated in a rushed voice.  "You're not Clark.  You're not even real."

   The Clark illusion smiled again and clapped his hands.  "Very good Lex, you must have been able to fight off enough of the drugs to get your deductive reasoning back."  He placed a hand on Lex's cast cover leg.  "Too bad this is the closest you will ever come to Clark ever again," he grinned.  "You belong to daddy, now."

   "No!"  Lex screamed as he used his good arm to cover his mouth.

   Pete turned swiftly.  "What was that?" He said out loud.  He had just heard a sound as if a muffled voice was calling.

   He traced the dark wall with his hand and Pete notice the wall on the opposite side of the room from where he entered had another slightly smaller door.  He smile at himself as he realized that it must have been a closet, and that was where he had heard the sound coming from only a second earlier.  Ever so slowly, he reached cautiously for the knob.

   Inside the closet, Lex could see the doorknob beginning to turn.

   The Clark illusion spun his head from his stare at the door back to Lex with one sweeping motion as he announced through his large evil grin and dark eyes.  "It's show time!"

   Lex used all his reserve energy left and lurched towards the door and grasped tightly onto the door handle.  He struggled to keep it still.

   "It won't work, Lex," Clark laughed.  "This is the only door in the whole building without a lock."

   Pete felt the door began to give way just as a jerking motion from the other side pulled it shut again.  The sudden motion startled him and he took a step back.  He eyed the door again, and the realization hit him.

   "Someone is in there," he gasped under his breath as a large toothy smile covered his face.  "I've found Lionel's secret."

   He stepped forward again and took a strong hold on the door and with a quick motion he yanked the door open finding much to his surprise that the resistance was gone.  The door swung open with a crash as it hit the wall.

   Lex coward in the corner of what was now the opened closet.  He had been able get himself up onto his shaky legs and held the wooden horse firmly in his shaking hand.

   Pete marveled at how easily he had been able to open the door.  He took a step into the dark enclosure.

   Lex raised the wooden object as the dark silhouette entered his last refuge.

   Pete turned to the darkened corner where he thought he could hear the rustling of the clothes and the distinct sounds of a heavy breath.

   Lex closed his eyes tightly as he thrashed his arm down quickly.

   Pete saw as a solid object came beating down on his head.  He shifted to the right.

   Lex felt the heavy thud against his hand as the horse made contact with another object.

   Pete felt the solid wooden device smash against the left side of his head with a loud grunt.

   Lex let out an anguished filled scream that sounded more like a grunt.

   Pete's mind went numb as the loud sounds of bells came rushing into his ear in a constant buzzer like sound.

   Lex pulled his arm back with the horse in his grasp.  Droplets of blood were dripping off of the toy.

   Pete looked into the blackness of the shadow with a shocked look on his face.  The blackness began to engulf him.

   Lex closed his eyes tightly as he waited for the worst to happen.

   Pete became one with the black as his body slumped to the floor.

   Lex heard the thud and felt as a head hit his stocking feet.  He opened his eyes again slowly, and looked down.  He gasped as he tried to recognized the face that was looking up at him but there was not enough light.

   Pete's open eyes stared up at him, but there were no motions.  Pete was lying helpless at Lex's feet.

   The illusionary Clark appeared out of nowhere again and looked down at the injured soul.  He raised his head slowly and grinned as his eyes disappeared behind the veil of darkness in the small space.  He spoke with a mocking tone.  "Oops, he go boom."

   Lex looked up at his should-be hero and then back down at his would-be hero, and allowed him self to slide down the wall behind him to the floor.  He held his hand out and released his grip, allowing the wooden horse to roll out of his hand onto the floor with a thump.  Lex pulled his arm back in close to his chest and turned his face to the wall with his nose pressed against the cool sheetrock.  Lex allowed himself to sob as the drugs took their effects again, and pulled him back into the void, which was sleep.

   Perry White felt as if he had spent a lifetime in Metropolis General's Emergency Room when he was finally released three hours after arriving.  The run-in with the large enforcer at the Daily Planet had left him with a broken left arm.  Considering the danger he knew he was in at the time, and the potential for more harm to be inflicted on him, he was thankful that he had come out relatively unhurt.

   His wife, Alice, had volunteered to come pick him up, but he had decided it was best to for her to stay home and guard the children.  There was no telling what would happen now that he knew Lionel Luthor was out to stop him from investigating the mystery of Lex's death any further.  As a reporter, he had faced threats on his life and health before, but few were ever as brazing as his new foe.  Perry wished there was more than the words from his mystery savior to prove that Lionel was the one who sent his attacker, but with out the evidence, it was his hearsay against what would surely be a firm denial from Lionel.

   Cradling his arm in its new cast, Perry made his way through the large waiting room towards the front door.  The police had already taken his statement and left him to his own care several hours ago.  Now all he could do was watch his own back and drag his tired body back to his car with a new indent on the door where his head had hit.  Perry sighed as the door hummed open to the night heat and he pulled his keys from his pocket.

   He was about to step off the curb when he heard his name being called.  The sound of his own name being called in the middle of the night so shortly after his ordeal cause him to flinch and a chill ran up his spine.

   Slowly, Perry turned to the direction of the sound.  He saw that a middle-aged woman was standing just outside the door where she had, apparently, been waiting for him.

   "Perry White?" She took a few steps closer.

   "Who wants to know?" He looked up from his pain.

   "My name is Maggie Butterfold, sir," she introduced her self with a cautious eye on the passer byes.  "I use to be Lionel Luthor's personal assistant."

   Perry looked her over.  "Use to be?" He questioned.

   "Yes," she nodded nervously.  "He fired me."

   Perry white took a deep breath that only reminded him of his cracked rib.  "Oh," he shuttered grabbing his side.  "I'm sorry Miss Butterfold, but now is a bad time for small talk."

   "I know," she cut him off with wide eyes.  "I heard on the radio that you were attacked tonight, and that is why I came looking for you.  I think my former boss may have been behind your beating."

   "You, me, and half of Metropolis think so, lady," he replied.  "But with my assailant dead and no smoking gun, all we have is conjecture right now."

   She let her head lower with her eyes to the ground.

   "I hate to be rude," he added.  "But unless you can give me some proof as to what we both know Lionel has done here tonight, then I have to get home to my wife."

   After a few short seconds of silence, Perry turned away and continued his trek to the parking lot.  "Thank you for your concern."

   Maggie raised her head and watched his back for a moment. "I," she started calling out to him.  "I can't prove that Lionel was the one who attacked you tonight, Mr. White, but I think I may have a smoking gun for you."

   Perry stopped in his tracks.  He slowly turned back to her.

   Maggie took a few steps and stood before him again.  "I may have a piece of important information," she said with a bit of uncertainty.  "I--," she stammered.  "I know where Nell Potter was the morning she was assaulted."

   Perry's eyes grew wide.

   Maggie's eyes drifted slightly down again.  "Nell was not in the parking lot, and she was not mugged."

   "And you know this because?" He encouraged her to continue.

   "Because I was with her moments before she was said to hit her head and slipped into a coma."  Maggie met his eyes.  "Nell was waiting in Lionel Luthor's office to have breakfast with him.  She had been there for several minutes when he finally joined her after coming in late."

   "Lionel was the last person to see Nell awake?" He asked.

   "I think so," Maggie nodded.  "About five minutes after he went into his office, he asked me to have the company nurse come up.  He said over the intercom that Nell had fallen and hit her head.  He also said not to call 911, but he would have someone drive here to the emergency room."

   Perry could not believe such a valuable piece of information was falling into his hands so easily, but he could not ignore the facts.  "Then what happen?"

   "Then he fired me," she said with a sigh.  "After fifteen years of service, I was let go because I left someone in his office unattended without his prior consent."

   Perry's mind began to turn in all direction as he rubbed his chin.  Then he looked at her again.  "You never saw Nell after you left her, nor did you see what actually happened?'

   "No," Maggie said with a sorry voice.

   "Then how do I know you are not just some disgruntled employee who wants to get your former boss in trouble for what he did to you?"  Perry questioned.

   "All I can give you is my word, Mr. White," she took a seriously hurt look on her face.  "But I think we both know that what I am telling you is highly plausible.  We also know that if Mr. Luthor would do this to Nell Potter, then my coming here has put me at great risk also."

   Perry White did not say a word, but just watched her body motion, which in all his years of investigative reporting was telling him that she was speaking the truth.

   "Mr. White," her eyes pleaded.  "We both know who had you attacked tonight.  Do you honestly think I would put myself in danger to tell you a lie?  Believe what you will, but you know that this is worth looking into."

   Perry allowed his stare to drift up wards to the large building behind them.  Nell Potter was up there laying in a coma that he was now learning may have been caused by Lionel Luthor.

   "There is one more point of interest, Mr. White," Maggie added.  "Nell's doctor is Phillip Burns."

   Again Perry's gaze met hers with a shocked look.  "Phillip Burns?"

   "Yes," she nodded.  "The same doctor who treated Lionel's son is now treating Nell."

   The wheels were turning behind his eyes again.

   "Don't you think that it's odd that the same man who treated Lionel's son would also be the doctor for his victim?"  Maggie asked.

   Perry held his keys up in his hand.  All his tired and bruised body wanted at that moment was to go home, have some dinner, and curl up in bed next to his wife, but the investigative reporter inside his head called out to him.  There was not only a story worth telling here, but a human life could very well be at risk.  A twinge of guilt also hit his empty stomach as he remembered talking to Nell on the phone the night before her attack.  He had never met the woman, but he used her fear for her niece whom she loved like a daughter to get her to go to Luthor's office that morning and to dig up his secrets.  The fear has always been in the back of his mind since that day, but now he knew that she must have accomplished her mission, only she never had time to escape.  Nell was in the hospital because he had sent her into the wolf's den unprepared.

   "Mr. White," Maggie questioned his silence.  "Are you alright?"

   "Yeah," he continued to spy the building.  "I think I have to do something," he said walking pass her.  "Thanks for your help."

   Maggie watched as he walked back into the sliding doors.  She wanted to tell him to be careful, but somehow she was sure that he already knew that.  With her task accomplished, she began her walk back to the parking lot.

   Her foot had barely touched the cement of the driveway off the sidewalk when a large black car pulled up only inches from her face.  She took a reactive step backwards.

   The back door of the vehicle opened and a large man in a black suit stepped out.  He left the door jarred and stood before her.  "Mrs. Butterfold," he spoke in a deep voice.

   "Yes," Maggie looked up not trying to appear afraid.

   The man reached for the door and held it open for her.  "Mr. Luthor would like to have a word with you," he then said.

   "I'm not interested," she tried to sound strong.  "I don't work for Mr. Luthor anymore, and I don't take his orders."

   The man turned his head to inspect the area for a moment, and then returned his gaze to her.  "I think it would be in your best interest if you would just get in the car."

   His words seemed punctuated by two other large men who appeared from the other side of the sedan and took on opposite sides of her.  They stood as a silent vigil as they waited for her response.

   Maggie wanted to move, to scream or just plain run, but she knew that in the end, Lionel would have his way, so she chose to slowly walk towards the car seat.  Each step became more intense and the tears began to flow with out warning.  If she had never been afraid for her life before, then this was the defining moment.  She slumped into the seat as the three men disappeared into another door.

   She sat silently next to the first man in the back of the car, and the doors had been locked when she entered.  Maggie looked over her shoulder through the tinted windows as the hospital, and perhaps her life, disappeared into the night.  She turned back and buried her face in her hands.

   The 'Edge' comedy club back in Gotham City had been closed down for the night after the mayhem from the earlier gunfire.  Most of the employees had gone home for the night, and all the lights that remained were a small bulb just off the small stage.  On the platform, a lone figure of a man sat sulking at the edge of the stage.  He had his hands wrapped neatly over his knees as he sat silently.

   The comedian who had been on the stage at the time of the riots still wore his purple suit with the blue pinstripes.  The large green bow tie had been loosen and hung around his neck as his slender form sought comfort from itself.  He allowed his eyes to drift around the room and take in all the dimly lit nuances of the place.  The young man had been a failure at most things in his life, but none of those other jobs meant anything real to him.  They were just nine to five ventures that helped to put food on the table.  They didn't mater.  All his young life though, his real dream was being a comedian.  Even after his own mother mocked and taunted him that he could never be funny, he held to his dreams.  Someday, he knew he would make it big.  Someday, he would be in front of a live audience and they would just love him.  That someday was to be tonight, and his act was destroyed.

   He had convinced himself that if he had been able to continue his performance past the first few minutes that he would have turned his life, and the act, around.  They didn't seem to like his routine, but he knew in his heart that it was because he had not been able to shake off the stage fright, but he was just coming to that part when the shot was fired.  His act and his life were cut short that night.  He still summoned up all the reserve he had left, and he had gone to Morgan Edge a few minutes earlier when he was standing in the corner surrounded by his guards.  He decided to be bold, and he asked with a determined look in his eyes to Morgan who was wiping something from his sleeve, "So, do I have a job, Mr. Edge?"

   The stare of distain and anger that he got back ripped at the young man's heart as Morgan tore into him and his pathetic act.  The tongue flogging went on for a good two minutes when Edge finally, in no unclear terms, informed him that he would not hire this waste of human flesh as a comedian if he were the last living person on Earth.  He then warned him to leave his sight at once.

   The bitter rebuttal had been traumatic on the young man as he disappeared into the shadows of the club and did not return until he was sure everyone had left.  Now, he was alone and miserable, as he had been most of his life.

   His mind was speeding through all the years of hardship and misery that he had faced, and it was then and there that he determined that he could not let Morgan's harsh words go unpunished.  He stood up slowly and looked around the room at the tables and chairs that had been upset and tossed around.  Bottles and glasses of all types and brands of booze had been thrown on just about every surface if the room in the Malay.  Edge had ordered his employees to leave at once, and leave the mess to clean in the morning.  He just wanted the building emptied so he could make his plans.  The young comedian saw this mess and carelessness as another opportunity.  One which he could use to get even with the man who had insulted him worse than anyone had done, since his own mother.  He had promised himself that one day he would get revenge on her, but first, today was Morgan Edge's turn.

   Slowly, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket and flipped the lid open.  He walked over to the closest table that had a tablecloth that was covered with alcohol but was one of the few still standing.  He flicked the old fashioned lighter with a picture of a joker card on the side, and then dropped it onto the surface, which ignited instantly.  He took a step back and admired his work that was already starting to set other portions of the room ablaze.

   "Say goodbye to your happy little haven, Mr. Edge," he grinned widely with his big lips.  "Consider this a gift from the clown prince of," he thought for a minute and finished, "crime."

   The young man could not keep himself from laughing as he turned away and walked towards the exits.  Perhaps he had embarked on a new career that night.  It didn't really matter, because as far as he was concerned, revenge was the sweetest crime of all.

   Her hands and feet were shaking, but Chloe determined that she would not let her new captor see her fear.  She sat in his office chair as Morgan Edge loomed over her from across the desk.  Her eyes danced in both fear and excitement.  She had solved the mystery that she had come here for, but the fear of not knowing if she would ever live to tell was eating away at her. 

   Even with one question answered and her fear threatening to lock her throat tight from any sounds ever being able to squeak out ever again, Chloe had an over whelming desire to know more; To know the whole truth.

   "You killed Lex Luthor?" She allowed the words to slip through her slightly quivering lips.

   Morgan lit a cigar and stood firm.  "Of course," he grinned.  "Then again you already suspected that, didn't you?  That's why Luthor sent you here?"

   Chloe's head was reeling from what she had just heard.  "Luthor?" She questioned.  "Lionel Luthor did not send us here.  If anything, he had tried to stop us at every possible turn."

   Morgan took a long drag and studied her.

   "Come on, Mr. E," Salina said nervously rubbing her arm.  She had been in this game of cat and mouse long enough to know that her own fate was as unclear as Chloe's at that moment.  Still, she pressed on.  "I mean these guys are just a group of kids.  They can't do you any harm."

   He blew a billow of smoke in Salina's face.  "I see you've taken a shine to your new friend.  You have the loyalties of a street cat, Salina.  You have no idea what it would be like dealing with Lionel Luthor if you took him on.  He is not above sending a bunch of children to do his dirty work."

   "Think what ever you want," Chloe replied finding her backbone.  "You may have some feud going on with Lionel for whatever reason you might have, but it still doesn't explain why you would kill his son."

   Morgan leaned on the desk.  "Because he killed my son, Miss Sullivan.  I have taken away from Lionel what he took away from me."

   Chloe was trying to keep up with her own thoughts.  She glanced down at the picture of Edge and his family.  "Lionel killed you infant son?"

    "Not directly, but I can assure you that my son is not the only person who has suffered at Luthor's hands," Morgan told her.

   "Okay," Chloe put her hands up to stop the talk.  "Can we try this with out talking in circles.  How did Lionel Luthor kill your son and perhaps other people in Gotham without getting his hands dirty?"

   Morgan walked over to one of his filing cabinets and pulled out a thick file.  He walked back to the desk and dropped it in front of Chloe.  He gestured for her to read it.

   Chloe slowly opened the file and began to scan the documents with Luthor Corps logos in the upper left hand corners.  "What are these?" She asked as Salina came around the desk and looked over her shoulder. 

   Salina pointed to a line at the bottom of the first page.  "It says here that these are some type of waist management receipts."

   "From Luthor Corps plant number three," Chloe read from the header.  She then began to leaf through the other pages.  After a few more, she skipped to the back of the file.  "These pages go back almost eleven years."

   "That's right," Morgan smiled.  "It took some spying and a whole lot of money, but I was able to obtain copies of Luthor records from as far back as the early nineteen nineties.  If you'll notice, all these records have the same dumping ground."

   Chloe read from the form.  "The Gotham City landfill."

   "Or as we in Gotham call Lionel's version of a landfill," he puffed on his stogy.  "The Gotham reservoir."

   Salina looked up at him.  "The reservoir is our source of drinking water."

   He nodded his head with a knowing smile.

   "Okay, wait," Chloe stopped to think.  "So Lionel was dumping stuff into a non-landfill, we still don't know what it was."

   Morgan took a deep breath and sat in the chair across from them.  "Neither did I until I got a large clue by way of a special news report over CNN last year.  Do you remember the story of a man named Earl Jenkins who took over the Smallville plant last November?"

   "Remember," Chloe sighed.  "I was a part of the story.  Earl held my entire freshman class hostage until Lex convinced him to let us go."

   "That's right," Edge smiled.  "I remember the hostage standoff.  But anyway, Mr. Jenkins was looking for a believed fictitious level three.  He said that Luthor Corps had been running special secretive tests on Smallville's very own resource that your people refer to as meteor fragments."

   "That's right," Chloe agreed with a suspicious eye.  "He said that they were using them in the fertilizer to help stimulate growth."

   Morgan nodded.  "And as in the case with all experimentation, you always have waste.  Particularly when you are trying to take something as solid as a meteor rock and make it pliable or converting it to a liquid form."

   Chloe's eyes lit up with realization.  "So Lionel was looking for a place to dump the waste, since the government has already determined the fragments to not be radioactive, they did not regulate the dumping of fragment byproducts."  Her mind began going over the scenarios.  "Even with all the strange events in Smallville, they have still not been able to link all these strange meteor freaks to the source."

   "But why dump them here?" Salina asked.  "It's not like Gotham and Smallville are anywhere near each other."

   "Gotham has been hit by severely hard economic times, Salina," Morgan told her.  "The city's board of selectmen was looking for a source of easy revenue, and Luthor provided the city with that money."

   "But a landfill is far from being a reservoir," Chloe reminded.  "Why would they dump potentially harmful waste into the drinking water supply?"

   "Because Lionel Luthor is an evil scientist at heart, my dear," Morgan replied with another puff.  "He wanted to study the long term effects on the human body, and he paid off a few less than honest men on our council to release the refuge into the drinking water supply.  Thus, he could further his studies, and no one would be the wiser."

   "Oh, my God," Chloe gasped.  "I can't believe that even Lionel would do something so evil."

   "So what did the water do to us?" Salina asked.

   "I don't have to tell you all the strange things that have been going on in the last few years around Gotham, Salina," he replied with a grimace.  "You have seen all the deformed children and those who are said to have special abilities.  They have even given them a label.  We refer to them as meta-humans.  Their genes have been altered.  Some from birth and some shortly after."

   "That does fit in with the Smallville meteor MO.," Chloe stated with a disgusted look on her face.

   "I have heard stories Miss Sullivan that would turn your stomach," he told her.  "The worst, being my own."

   "Your baby?" Chloe's eyes opened wide.

   "He did not live to see his first birthday," Morgan's face seemed to be filled with grief.  "My son was born with a birth defect that was most likely caused by contamination, but things were made worse because he could not drink milk or breast milk, so we needed to feed him formula made with city water that we had no idea was deadly for him."

   Chloe hung her head low at the thought of the dead baby.

   "The doctors had never seen anything like it before," he continued in a softer tone.  "We didn't realize it at first, but my son's body was becoming an amphibian creature.  He could no longer breath our air for long periods of time.  Our only hope was to place him in more of the deadly water which mutated him further until he could no longer breath the air or the filthy water."

   "Oh, my God," Chloe gasped. 

   "Do you know what it is like to watch your child die like that before your eyes, and not be able to help?" he spoke with a tear in his eye.  "My wife could not take it, and a few months after his death on what would have been my son's first birthday, she took her own life on his grave."

   Salina had to look away from the grief in his eyes.  He was her boss in every way, but a small part of her had come to love him, and the pain she could see was breaking her heart.

   "I did research," Morgan continued.  "I knew that what happened to my son was not right or natural, so I studied some of the other strange occurrences in Gotham, and found all types of freaks.  A boy who was born deformed like a crocodile, and another young boy whose body parts began to mimic a bird or penguin like animal.  There were hundreds of them, Miss Sullivan."

   Chloe sat silent.  She didn't know what to say.  What could she say to a man, a town, which had gone through such horrors that dwarfed Smallville's in some ways?

   "After years of research, I came across the Luthor name and Earl Jenkins's report, and I put two and two together and uncovered these files.  I knew I had to hurt Luthor like he had hurt me."

   "Lillian?" Chloe raised her head with a start.

   "No," Morgan huffed.  "She was long since dead when I learn of his misdeeds, but I can not be sure I would have gone after her too if her son's death had not done what my son's death did to my wife."

   "But," Chloe thought out loud.  "There was this whole terror cell that had a similar MO., and I thought they were the ones who might had killed Lex."

   "The terror cell was very real, but they didn't have the funding to pull off their plans until I helped them out," he grinned.  "I allowed them to do their thing while I made my own plans for Lex."

   "Oh, my God," Chloe gasped again.  "You funded a group of terrorists that were targeting your our country?"

   "I needed a smoke screen to cover my trail while I took care of the Luthor family," Morgan placed the cigar in the ashtray on his desk.  "The terrorist plot covered for me perfectly.  Even you fell for it."

   Morgan Edge stood up again.  "Of course, they were becoming a liability as well, so as the FBI began to close in on them, I had to remove them from possibly telling the police the truth about their other crimes and proving that they had nothing to do with Lex's death or linking me to their funding.  So I had to order their destruction as well.  They were all killed in their sleep.  A terrorist crime on terrorist criminals was done."

   "You are a very sick and warped man, Morgan Edge," Chloe's eyes got red with anger.  "I was actually feeling sorry for you for what Lionel did to your family, but nothing justifies what you did to Lex and all those other innocent boys who were attacked and killed by your terrorists."

   "I don't have to justify it, Miss Sullivan," he grinned.  "I only have to get away with it."

   "Boss," One of the guards whom was at the door called while looking out in the hall.  "The club is on fire."

   "What?" He bellowed as he ran for the door.  He looked out to the club's floor, which was already ablaze.  "It's that stupid joker guy.  He was upset because I told him his act stunk."

   "We need to call the fire department," the guard warned.

   Morgan looked back up the hall and then turned back to the girls.  His mind was turning, and they could tell that he was thinking something evil.  He finally spoke again.  "This is perfect," he grinned.  "I could not have planned this better myself.  I can't have these little ladies going out and telling the world what they have learned here today, and when the cause is discovered behind this blaze, I will be totally cleared."

   "Mr. E," Salina gushed.  "I thought we meant something to each other.  You can't let me die, I won't tell anyone your secrets.  I promise."

   "I would never trust a gutter rat, my dear," he smiled politely.  "You were a sweet diversion from my pain, but that too has come to an end now that I have my revenge."

   "You'll never get away with this," Chloe stood up and warned.  "They'll know something was up when they find us."

   "I can assure you that they will not suspect an innocent man, Miss Sullivan," he told them.  "I am a victim here.  So my plan to go under cover should the murder be discovered will not be needed.  You see, I will be so devastated by my loss yet again, that I will seclude myself away from the world and go into hiding for a few years and then when the time is right, I will return.  Only this time, Metropolis will be my new play ground, and it's great savior Lionel Luthor will be my doormat."

   "What about Gotham City?" She asked.  "Don't you want to save them from more contamination?"

   "Gotham City is as dead to me now as my late wife," He walked out the door picking up the file of Luthor Corps receipts.  "These will have to find their way into the hands of a certain young reporter over at the Daily Planet. In the mean time, enjoy your trip to the after life," he slowly closed the door behind himself, and they could hear him turn the key to lock it.

   "No," Salina screamed as she dived for the door.  "Morgan don't do this," she cried.  "Don't leave me here to die."

   Chloe ran to the younger girl's side and tried the locks to no avail.  She lowered herself to her knees and pulled Salina up from the floor.  "Don't do this Salina," she said softly.  "He's not worth it.  We'll find our own way out of here."

   The mascara was running down her cheeks as she looked up.  "You don't understand," Salina cried.  "I love him."

   Chloe didn't know what to say.  Now was not the time for one of her crude criticism.  She pulled Salina into her arms and allowed the young teen to cry into her shoulder.  Chloe held her tight as she looked down at the bottom of the door where the first trickle of smoke began to make its way into the room.

   Surveying the room quickly, Chloe could see that there was no escape route.  The two girls could very well die in that room tonight.  For the first time since she had met Clark, Chloe felt completely alone and helpless.  She said a silent prayer and hoped that somehow, for some reason, Clark would show up and save her like he always seemed to do before. Yet, in the pit of her stomach, a nagging feeling gave her reason to know that this time, Clark was not coming to the rescue.

TO BE CONTINUED

***NOTES***

Thank you all for your continued reading and support. I know I keep repeating myself, but I really appreciate it. 

To Ingrid Mathews:  Thanks for the kind words.  I love giving everyone in the plot something to do, so it's nice to know you are enjoying it.

To MitchPell:  Again thanks.  So I actually stumped you.  Wow I impressed myself knowing that.  As for the drugs, I am sure if you give anyone enough drugs for a long period of time, then they will have adverse effects on them.  Clark being Lex's tormenter is also another added bonus I came up with along the way, which will play into the story at a latter time, also.

To Merrie:  Thanks again and I hope I can keep your interest as this story begins to wind down.  Oh and I made a mistake on the chapter with the Clark and Alfred speech, it's actually chapter 17.  Enjoy.

To Suz:  Thanks for the interest, and you now have your answer to what is in the water.  As for Pete, he's going to take a few hard knocks before this is all over.

To Robyn:  Thanks for the agreement on Lex's death in Clark's arm.  I was very worried about it being believable so it's nice to know you thought it was.  I am delving more into Bruce and Lana's relationship in the next few chapters, so please keep reading.

To Aino:  Thanks for reviewing.  It's nice to hear when new people are enjoying.  Thank you.

Thanks to everyone for reading even if you don't review.   I hope you like this chapter as I went a little longer than I thought I would, but I thought it was about time for some answers, so please let me know what you think.

Best Wishes and God Bless

Phaze