[Interrogation Room, One Police Plaza]
"I hope you have a verrry good reason for interrupting Mr. Luthor's presentation to Museum of Modern Art," Lex' attorney huffed.
"Depending on what these detectives have, Mr. Goldstein," ADA Southerlyn replied, "we can close this investigation and send Mr. Luthor on his way ... or subpoena him as a material witness."
"Your alibi just went up in smoke, Lex," Briscoe growled, "we have videotape of you entering Versailles Condos between 6:30 and 7 that night. What happened - the slide presentation was too dull for you. What was it? Ms. Saunders was about to report some discrepancies in the Luthor books?"
Lex whispered something in his attorney's ear. "My client was nervous that he might be personally implicated because of his presence in the building."
"So why were you there, Lex?" Green demanded.
Mr. Goldstein hesitated, but Lex answered. "I received a text message from Ms. Saunders around 6:20. She uncovered something about Luthor Corp.'s overseas transactions that seemed ... suspicious. An alarming volume of chemicals shipped from our warehouses on the Greek coast to Albania. I told her that, since the creation of LexCorp, I no longer hold the degree of influence I once had in my father's company. I suggested that I could help her come forward with the allegations. She nixed the idea. Then I left. I was there barely 15 minutes."
"And you saw nothing out of the ordinary? No one loitering in the lobby or the elevator bay?" Green asked.
"No. I didn't," Lex drank from his glass of water. "I realize now that I should have come forward. I'm sure you can appreciate how this would play in the press if I was somehow linked to Ms. Saunders death. Obviously, someone didn't want her to reveal what she discovered."
"Obviously," Briscoe sneered.
"Well, if that's all, detectives, counsellor," Goldstein began, "Mr. Luthor will be catching his jet to Metropolis tonight."
"You ain't goin' anywhere, Lex," Briscoe insisted, "you fibbed about your alibi. That sort of thing doesn't play well to homicide detectives."
"What are you saying?" Lex wondered.
"It means, Mr. Luthor," Southerlyn began, "that I'll have the necessary documents to your lawyer first thing tomorrow. You were in the building the night of the murder. You saw the victim within the timeframe she was murdered. At the very least, you're a material witness."
Briscoe stared at Lex. "You shoulda come clean the first time!" The detectives and Serena closed the door behind them. For the moment, Lex had time to weigh the severity of his situation.
Lex glared at his attorney. "I told you I should have been completely honest!"
"Their evidence is circumstantial," Goldstein stressed, "there's no murder weapon ... and nothing to link you to Chelsea's death."
"Perception, Mr. Goldstein, is far more persuasive that reality," Lex noted. "O.J. Simpson was exonerated. Does that automatically make him innocent? If the public believes I'm guilty, nothing we say in court will matter."
[The Talon, Smallville, 10:40 p.m.]
"It's late, Fin," Munch complained, "we won't be able to talk to Sheriff Miller until the morning."
"That's why I wanna get a jump start now," Tutuola replied, "so we know what to look for when we stop by the Luthor estate."
Chloe and Pete were debating layout designs for the upcoming issue of the Torch when Munch and Tutuola approached the counter.
"I'm sorry, but we're actually closing now," Lana stated.
Tutuola flashed his badge. "Detective Fin Tutuola. This is my partner Detective John Munch. NYPD. We just ..."
"NYPD?" Chloe inquired. "Unless you're executing some sort of cross-state warrant, you're, like, waaay out of your jurisdiction!"
Munch sighed. "And who might you be, miss?"
Chloe cleared her throat. "Chloe Sullivan, editor of the Smallville Torch."
"Is that the town paper?" Tutuola asked.
Chloe hesitated. "Well, yes and no. It's the voice of Smallville High. Unlike the Ledger, we're NOT beholden to the local power structure. I think you should talk to Sheriff Miller first."
"We are. First thing in the morning," Munch shot back, "and as for jurisdiction, we've got clearance from the Kansas Attorney-General. All good reporters, Miss, check their facts ... before jumping to conclusions."
"Alright, Munch settle down," Tutuola diffused the situation, "we're not here to step on any toes. We were just hoping to find out a little more about Lex Luthor."
"I knew it! I knew it!" Pete blurted, "You're gonna bust Lex, aren't you? Takin' him downtown. What are you booking him for? Grand larceny? Assault?"
Tutuola laughed. "Easy there, bro. We're not bustin' anybody's chops." He leaned towards Lana. "We've heard this is the place to go for the real deal on Smallville."
"We just want to know if Lex Luthor might have said or done that seemed ... well, unusual."
"This week?" Chloe thought aloud. "He's been in New York all week. Tying loose ends..."
"What sort of 'loose ends'?" Munch inquired.
"He's still nominally a director of Luthor Corp.," Chloe continued, "at least until he gets his own company LexCorp. off the ground."
"Oh yes, the classic tale of the son eventually betraying the father," Munch interrupted, "Right now, he just owns a fertilizer plant. He must realize that he's facing an uphill battle. Lionel Luthor holds assets worth billions of dollars."
"Lex just wants to make his own way in the world - without his father's influence," Lana replied.
"Maybe," Pete added, "but I suspect he's just biding his time. To make his move against his dad."
Tutuola looked puzzled. If Lex is planning a corporate coup, he thought, why would he try to protect his father from information that would surely clear a path for LexCorp. "So are you guys friends of Lex?" he asked.
"Well, we know 'of' him," Chloe replied, "We're not close confidants if that's what you're getting at."
"You guys want dirt on Lex," Pete smirked, "we know all about Luthor Corp.'s funny business in these parts."
"I'll keep that in mind," Munch noted. "So if you're not his buddies here ... who is?"
Pete hesitated. "I guess Clark Kent would be his best friend here. Although with a friend like Lex ..."
"... who needs enemies, right." Munch continued. "Thank you for your time, guys." He snatched a copy of the Torch from the counter. "I'll take this for my bedtime reading, Ms. Sullivan." Munch left the Talon, as Pete badgered him about life as a Big Apple cop.
Chloe glared at Det. Munch, then shook her head. "Where does that guy get off - that sorta heavy-handed Elliot Ness bravado just won't wash in this town."
"That's just it," Tutuola remarked, "he 'gets off' on antagonism. Don't mind John. That's just his style. But he, like me, is here to do a job. We're staying at the Red Roof Inn near the interstate. This is our number. We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."
When he left, Chloe glanced at Lana. "It sounds like Lex is in over his head this time."
"The Chelsea Saunders murder," Lana nodded, "That can't be."
Outside the Talon, Pete shook Munch's hand. "That's the direct number to the Torch. Lemme know if you need any help."
"Thanks, Pete," Munch replied, "Although your editor friend doesn't take too kindly to big-city lawmen like myself."
Tutuola chuckled. "She says you're like Elliot Ness. An ego-driven, no- nonsense badass."
"Hey, Ness got the job done," Munch replied, "He nailed Capone on tax evasion of all things! If you ask me, Luthor Corp. is an Enron waiting to happen."
"Why don't we ask Lionel Luthor tomorrow and see what shakes loose," Tutuola advised as he started the car ignition.
[Crime Scene Unit, One Police Plaza, 11 p.m.]
Southerlyn examined the glass again. "Are you sure?"
The analyst nodded. "It matched the sample you obtained from Kansas. Your boss McCoy must have traded some favours in to swing that deal! See? The DNA from the glass is identical to the blood sample from Metropolis."
"We have as close as we're going to get to a smoking gun," Southerlyn pulled out her cellphone. "Jack, it's Serena. The glass and the blood sample match."
"Without a doubt?" McCoy demanded.
"The CSU confirmed it just now," she replied.
McCoy turned to Branch. "Arthur, the evidence is there. All the evidence points to Lex as the murderer. With the FedEx files, he had motive to conceal it. To protect his corporate inheritance. As a senior executive at Luthor Corp., he had access to the condo. He had the opportunity."
Branch pinched his forehead. "Everything ... except the murder weapon. It's not a sure thing."
"I'm not giving him a free ride," McCoy declared, "It's going to be Murder One."
Branch paused, then sighed. McCoy prodded. "Arthur?"
"Pick him up," Branch relented. "I want this done by the book."
McCoy picked up the phone. "Van Buren. The DNA is a match. Have your people move. Now."
[Lespinasse Restaurant, St. Regis Hotel, Manhattan 11: 40 p.m.]
Briscoe and Green observed Lex, enjoying his main course. With a stunning female companion.
"Man, wasn't she on the cover of Elle last month?" Green grumbled.
"I bet he's hoping to hit it out of the park with her tonight," Briscoe scoffed. "Let's move."
"Detectives, if you have any further questions, " Lex growled, "I suggest you ask my attorney. Your D.A. is forwarding the paperwork tomorrow."
"Look, we're just here to tell you you've just climbed several rungs of the corporate ladder," Briscoe replied, "You're no longer a material witness ... you're a suspect! Come on, on your feet. You're under arrest for the murder of Chelsea --." He grabbed Lex's shoulder.
Frustrated at the public embarrassment, Lex shoved aside Briscoe's arm. "Don't even think of manhandling me, you son-of-a-bitch! I'm not just some punk you can push around."
Green immediately grappled with Lex. "You've just assaulted a police officer, Mr. Luthor." He shoved Lex onto the table. "You're under arrest for the murder of Chelsea Saunders. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney ..."
Lex smirked. "I can hire a legion of lawyers. I know my Miranda rights. I'm innocent. Innocent!"
"Sure, sure," Briscoe sneered as he cuffed Lex, "and we all know that a Luthor's word is his bond. Guess what, Lex, we've got more questions for you!"
The maitre d' gasped as the detectives hauled away Lex Luthor into the Manhattan night.
Lex's date sat still. Frozen with shock.
"I hope you have a verrry good reason for interrupting Mr. Luthor's presentation to Museum of Modern Art," Lex' attorney huffed.
"Depending on what these detectives have, Mr. Goldstein," ADA Southerlyn replied, "we can close this investigation and send Mr. Luthor on his way ... or subpoena him as a material witness."
"Your alibi just went up in smoke, Lex," Briscoe growled, "we have videotape of you entering Versailles Condos between 6:30 and 7 that night. What happened - the slide presentation was too dull for you. What was it? Ms. Saunders was about to report some discrepancies in the Luthor books?"
Lex whispered something in his attorney's ear. "My client was nervous that he might be personally implicated because of his presence in the building."
"So why were you there, Lex?" Green demanded.
Mr. Goldstein hesitated, but Lex answered. "I received a text message from Ms. Saunders around 6:20. She uncovered something about Luthor Corp.'s overseas transactions that seemed ... suspicious. An alarming volume of chemicals shipped from our warehouses on the Greek coast to Albania. I told her that, since the creation of LexCorp, I no longer hold the degree of influence I once had in my father's company. I suggested that I could help her come forward with the allegations. She nixed the idea. Then I left. I was there barely 15 minutes."
"And you saw nothing out of the ordinary? No one loitering in the lobby or the elevator bay?" Green asked.
"No. I didn't," Lex drank from his glass of water. "I realize now that I should have come forward. I'm sure you can appreciate how this would play in the press if I was somehow linked to Ms. Saunders death. Obviously, someone didn't want her to reveal what she discovered."
"Obviously," Briscoe sneered.
"Well, if that's all, detectives, counsellor," Goldstein began, "Mr. Luthor will be catching his jet to Metropolis tonight."
"You ain't goin' anywhere, Lex," Briscoe insisted, "you fibbed about your alibi. That sort of thing doesn't play well to homicide detectives."
"What are you saying?" Lex wondered.
"It means, Mr. Luthor," Southerlyn began, "that I'll have the necessary documents to your lawyer first thing tomorrow. You were in the building the night of the murder. You saw the victim within the timeframe she was murdered. At the very least, you're a material witness."
Briscoe stared at Lex. "You shoulda come clean the first time!" The detectives and Serena closed the door behind them. For the moment, Lex had time to weigh the severity of his situation.
Lex glared at his attorney. "I told you I should have been completely honest!"
"Their evidence is circumstantial," Goldstein stressed, "there's no murder weapon ... and nothing to link you to Chelsea's death."
"Perception, Mr. Goldstein, is far more persuasive that reality," Lex noted. "O.J. Simpson was exonerated. Does that automatically make him innocent? If the public believes I'm guilty, nothing we say in court will matter."
[The Talon, Smallville, 10:40 p.m.]
"It's late, Fin," Munch complained, "we won't be able to talk to Sheriff Miller until the morning."
"That's why I wanna get a jump start now," Tutuola replied, "so we know what to look for when we stop by the Luthor estate."
Chloe and Pete were debating layout designs for the upcoming issue of the Torch when Munch and Tutuola approached the counter.
"I'm sorry, but we're actually closing now," Lana stated.
Tutuola flashed his badge. "Detective Fin Tutuola. This is my partner Detective John Munch. NYPD. We just ..."
"NYPD?" Chloe inquired. "Unless you're executing some sort of cross-state warrant, you're, like, waaay out of your jurisdiction!"
Munch sighed. "And who might you be, miss?"
Chloe cleared her throat. "Chloe Sullivan, editor of the Smallville Torch."
"Is that the town paper?" Tutuola asked.
Chloe hesitated. "Well, yes and no. It's the voice of Smallville High. Unlike the Ledger, we're NOT beholden to the local power structure. I think you should talk to Sheriff Miller first."
"We are. First thing in the morning," Munch shot back, "and as for jurisdiction, we've got clearance from the Kansas Attorney-General. All good reporters, Miss, check their facts ... before jumping to conclusions."
"Alright, Munch settle down," Tutuola diffused the situation, "we're not here to step on any toes. We were just hoping to find out a little more about Lex Luthor."
"I knew it! I knew it!" Pete blurted, "You're gonna bust Lex, aren't you? Takin' him downtown. What are you booking him for? Grand larceny? Assault?"
Tutuola laughed. "Easy there, bro. We're not bustin' anybody's chops." He leaned towards Lana. "We've heard this is the place to go for the real deal on Smallville."
"We just want to know if Lex Luthor might have said or done that seemed ... well, unusual."
"This week?" Chloe thought aloud. "He's been in New York all week. Tying loose ends..."
"What sort of 'loose ends'?" Munch inquired.
"He's still nominally a director of Luthor Corp.," Chloe continued, "at least until he gets his own company LexCorp. off the ground."
"Oh yes, the classic tale of the son eventually betraying the father," Munch interrupted, "Right now, he just owns a fertilizer plant. He must realize that he's facing an uphill battle. Lionel Luthor holds assets worth billions of dollars."
"Lex just wants to make his own way in the world - without his father's influence," Lana replied.
"Maybe," Pete added, "but I suspect he's just biding his time. To make his move against his dad."
Tutuola looked puzzled. If Lex is planning a corporate coup, he thought, why would he try to protect his father from information that would surely clear a path for LexCorp. "So are you guys friends of Lex?" he asked.
"Well, we know 'of' him," Chloe replied, "We're not close confidants if that's what you're getting at."
"You guys want dirt on Lex," Pete smirked, "we know all about Luthor Corp.'s funny business in these parts."
"I'll keep that in mind," Munch noted. "So if you're not his buddies here ... who is?"
Pete hesitated. "I guess Clark Kent would be his best friend here. Although with a friend like Lex ..."
"... who needs enemies, right." Munch continued. "Thank you for your time, guys." He snatched a copy of the Torch from the counter. "I'll take this for my bedtime reading, Ms. Sullivan." Munch left the Talon, as Pete badgered him about life as a Big Apple cop.
Chloe glared at Det. Munch, then shook her head. "Where does that guy get off - that sorta heavy-handed Elliot Ness bravado just won't wash in this town."
"That's just it," Tutuola remarked, "he 'gets off' on antagonism. Don't mind John. That's just his style. But he, like me, is here to do a job. We're staying at the Red Roof Inn near the interstate. This is our number. We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."
When he left, Chloe glanced at Lana. "It sounds like Lex is in over his head this time."
"The Chelsea Saunders murder," Lana nodded, "That can't be."
Outside the Talon, Pete shook Munch's hand. "That's the direct number to the Torch. Lemme know if you need any help."
"Thanks, Pete," Munch replied, "Although your editor friend doesn't take too kindly to big-city lawmen like myself."
Tutuola chuckled. "She says you're like Elliot Ness. An ego-driven, no- nonsense badass."
"Hey, Ness got the job done," Munch replied, "He nailed Capone on tax evasion of all things! If you ask me, Luthor Corp. is an Enron waiting to happen."
"Why don't we ask Lionel Luthor tomorrow and see what shakes loose," Tutuola advised as he started the car ignition.
[Crime Scene Unit, One Police Plaza, 11 p.m.]
Southerlyn examined the glass again. "Are you sure?"
The analyst nodded. "It matched the sample you obtained from Kansas. Your boss McCoy must have traded some favours in to swing that deal! See? The DNA from the glass is identical to the blood sample from Metropolis."
"We have as close as we're going to get to a smoking gun," Southerlyn pulled out her cellphone. "Jack, it's Serena. The glass and the blood sample match."
"Without a doubt?" McCoy demanded.
"The CSU confirmed it just now," she replied.
McCoy turned to Branch. "Arthur, the evidence is there. All the evidence points to Lex as the murderer. With the FedEx files, he had motive to conceal it. To protect his corporate inheritance. As a senior executive at Luthor Corp., he had access to the condo. He had the opportunity."
Branch pinched his forehead. "Everything ... except the murder weapon. It's not a sure thing."
"I'm not giving him a free ride," McCoy declared, "It's going to be Murder One."
Branch paused, then sighed. McCoy prodded. "Arthur?"
"Pick him up," Branch relented. "I want this done by the book."
McCoy picked up the phone. "Van Buren. The DNA is a match. Have your people move. Now."
[Lespinasse Restaurant, St. Regis Hotel, Manhattan 11: 40 p.m.]
Briscoe and Green observed Lex, enjoying his main course. With a stunning female companion.
"Man, wasn't she on the cover of Elle last month?" Green grumbled.
"I bet he's hoping to hit it out of the park with her tonight," Briscoe scoffed. "Let's move."
"Detectives, if you have any further questions, " Lex growled, "I suggest you ask my attorney. Your D.A. is forwarding the paperwork tomorrow."
"Look, we're just here to tell you you've just climbed several rungs of the corporate ladder," Briscoe replied, "You're no longer a material witness ... you're a suspect! Come on, on your feet. You're under arrest for the murder of Chelsea --." He grabbed Lex's shoulder.
Frustrated at the public embarrassment, Lex shoved aside Briscoe's arm. "Don't even think of manhandling me, you son-of-a-bitch! I'm not just some punk you can push around."
Green immediately grappled with Lex. "You've just assaulted a police officer, Mr. Luthor." He shoved Lex onto the table. "You're under arrest for the murder of Chelsea Saunders. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney ..."
Lex smirked. "I can hire a legion of lawyers. I know my Miranda rights. I'm innocent. Innocent!"
"Sure, sure," Briscoe sneered as he cuffed Lex, "and we all know that a Luthor's word is his bond. Guess what, Lex, we've got more questions for you!"
The maitre d' gasped as the detectives hauled away Lex Luthor into the Manhattan night.
Lex's date sat still. Frozen with shock.