(The A-Train Jazz Club and Lounge, Metropolis entertainment district)
Lex parked his silver Porsche 911 in the parking lot. The A-Train Jazz Club and Lounge – its entrance flooded with inviting red neon lights – was the most exclusive club in Metropolis. The suit-and-tie dress code was always in effect. An imposing bouncer in a cream suit and red shirt blocked the doorway.
Lex was in no mood for pleasantries. His hand was still sore from his altercation with the mobster janitor; he would get an explanation from Zucco tonight.
"Do you have an invitation, sir?" the bouncer demanded.
"I'm Lex Luthor," Lex snarled. "If you ever want to work in this city again, you'll step aside. Now." The bouncer recognized his important guest and quickly opened the doors.
A quartet of jazz musicians set up the stage for tonight's show. In a darkened corner of the lounge, Tony Zucco, dressed in crisp, charcoal suit and mauve tie, spotted Lex from a distance. Two of his associates stood up from their table and moved to intercept him.
"Boys, settle down," Zucco ordered. The associates glared suspiciously at Lex, and then returned to their seats nearby.
Lex tossed the janitor's school board ID card on Zucco's table. "Who the hell is Frank Nicci? He nearly pummelled a teenage girl's face into the floor of the Smallville Ledger! I almost broke my hand on his jaw to keep that from happening!"
Zucco shrugged, as he sipped his glass of red wine. "It's all a misunderstanding. Frankie's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, do you get my drift?" He stabbed his finger emphatically on the table. "He was not acting under my orders!"
Lex took a seat at Zucco's table. "That girl he almost killed is a reporter for the school's paper. He seemed to think you'd appreciate the fact that he'd keep your involvement in the Bertinelli slayings under wraps."
"Alleged involvement," Zucco stressed. "Let's get one thing straight. You stay out of my business, and I'll keep your nose clean. I'll take care of this Frankie situation."
"How?" Lex demanded. He ordered a scotch and fiddled with his BlackBerry device.
"Hey, boss," one of Zucco's associates hollered, "Alex has one of them Blueberry palm pilot gizmos. Ain't that neat?" He was fascinated with its shiny LED screen.
"Not now, Louie," Zucco insisted. "Can't you see we're talking business here!"
The associate quickly turned away. "I'm just sayin' it's cool, Mr. Zucco."
Zucco grinned as the waitress brought his steak dinner. The meat's juices still sizzled on the plate. He carved into the steak hungrily. "Frankie can stew in jail. He might think I'm gonna spring him and post his bail, but if he hurt one of your friends he can park his sorry ass in the county jail for a few days. Will that suffice, Mr. Luthor?"
Lex seemed to be placated, but he knew there was more to Zucco's connection to the hit on the Bertinelli family. "I'm glad we're on the same page. I still have to wonder if this issue you have, with a hit you supposedly had no hand in orchestrating, is going to affect our arrangement."
Zucco slowly wiped his mouth with a napkin. He wasn't pleased with Lex's insinuations. "You just won't let it go, will you Lex? You're lucky I consider you a friend – otherwise I would consider this conversation impolite. How would you like it if I dug into your father's past with Morgan Edge? I'm sure there are a few skeletons in that pretty little castle you live in."
Lex chose not to reply and finished his drink. He didn't think that Zucco was going to elaborate about the Bertinelli slayings, and he prepared to leave.
Zucco waved at him to sit down again. "You know, I like you Lex. We have much in common, you and I."
Lex checked his watch impatiently. "I doubt that, Tony," he stated. Zucco grinned at Lex's pretence of familiarity.
"Allow me to explain," Zucco continued. "We value honour, you and I. We value what family bonds stand for, despite your claims of indifference with your father. We value loyalty, above all. And we despise traitors. Franco Bertinelli was a traitor. He paid with his life; he chose that path."
For a moment, Zucco appeared to be regretful. Franco would be Helena's father, Lex concluded. The man who tried to seize control of the Gotham mafia, with a hail of bullets.
"Franco and I," Zucco added, "grew up in East Town. We had First Communion together. We rose through the ranks together. When the Jazzman Syndicate moved into Gotham, we knew there would be blood spilled. If I had known that he would betray everything that we believed in, just so he could rub me out and take over …"
"That's the code you've chosen to live by," Lex observed. "You might die by it, too."
Zucco grabbed his arm firmly. "No, Lex, that's our code. Yours and mine!" He was determined to make his point. "We look out for our friends, and destroy our enemies. I was supposed to go to that November 1st meeting, you know. Those guys he wiped out: Little Archie, the O'Grady brothers, Nick, Rizzo, Charlie, Big Louie … we grew up in the same neighbourhood, they were my brothers-in-arms. I vowed to protect them, but I wasn't there when Franco sold out The Family. I thought it was all over for me that night." Zucco fell silent; that was all he would say about the All Saints' Day massacre.
"And that somehow justifies killing your former friend in cold blood – in front of his daughter," Lex observed. "You may not have ordered it, but you let it happen nonetheless."
"You presume too much, Lex," Zucco replied sternly. "The hit on the Bertinellis came from above. The dons in New York didn't want the Jazzman to take Gotham from them, and they went through the roof when they heard it was Franco! He spat on all that we stood for. I was instructed to stay out of it because of our past friendship. They took the initiative. There were no survivors, they told me later. I know Helena's still alive, but I bear no ill will against her. Why should I? It is over. Gotham City is mine now." He finished the last of his mashed potatoes. "Now, unless you're staying for the show …"
Lex took this cue to mean that he had outlasted his welcome. He stepped out of the club and raced away from Metropolis in his Porsche. He wasn't entirely convinced of Zucco's pleas of innocence, but there was no solid evidence of Zucco ties to the Bertinelli slayings.
Did Tony Zucco set aside his vendetta against a friend who had broken the most sacred of mafia codes: loyalty? Was he content that Helena's parents answered for their treasonous actions with their lives, or did he fear their daughter's retribution? Frankie the Janitor was prepared to kill to keep Zucco's alleged involvement a secret. Was there a plan to establish a Zucco mob beachhead in Metropolis?
As he zoomed towards Smallville, Lex realized that these questions needed answers before he could do anything about Helena Bertinelli's disruptive presence in Smallville. He had saved Chloe from one of Zucco's goons, he thought. She would jump at the chance to find out just how deep Zucco's ties go in this state … and if Helena had truly left her underworld ties behind.
(Smallville High Gymnasium)
The Smallville Crows volleyball team called for its last timeout. They had tied the Grandville Titans at two sets apiece. The Crows had about two minutes left on the clock. Miss Bertinelli, dressed in a snug mauve track suit, huddled her team together. On the sidelines, Lana snapped a few photos for the Torch sports page. Clark sat near the front benches to take game notes.
"The Crows haven't beaten the Titans in three years," Clark said to Lana. "If they manage to pull this off, they'll make history!" The crowd in the stands could sense the drama, and they hollered and cheered. Grandville's players, in their black uniforms, had school honour on the line and were determined to keep their streak against Smallville alive.
The timeout clock had expired, and the Crows returned to the court. The blonde, Number 12 – whose actual name was Mindy – served the volleyball over the net. A Titan defender dug at the ball, while one of her teammates set the ball up for a spike.
"Dee-fence!" the crowd clapped and cheered. "Dee-fence!"
Another player spiked the ball, but a Crow defender blocked it and the ball tipped onto the Titans' side of the net. A defender tried to dig at it, but she missed and the ball landed onto the court. The seconds ran out, and the buzzer rang throughout the gym. The Crows' team erupted in cheers, as they realized that they had broken the Titans' winning streak against them. The players hugged Miss Bertinelli to celebrate their victory.
Inexplicably, Mindy gave Clark a post-game hug. "We beat the Titans! Can you believe it, Clark!" she beamed. Lana sighed at Mindy's over-zealous pursuit of her friend.
"You're supposed to be objective, Clark," Lana cautioned not-too-subtly.
"She's just happy that we beat Grandville," Clark explained, but that didn't appear to convince Lana. "Anyhow, I thought Chloe wanted to be here for the victory."
Lana took a few more photos of the celebrations on-court. "She said she had some things to check on at the Torch. She's still pretty sore after what happened at the Ledger last night."
Clark watched as the victorious players hoisted Miss Bertinelli atop their shoulders. From what he had observed, the girls on the team were fiercely loyal to their new coach. He didn't get the sense that she was faking her genuine concern for her players and students. "Now, Chloe seems to agree with my dad that Miss Bertinelli is going to cause trouble in Smallville."
"It's not Miss Bertinelli's fault that some Gotham mobster attacked Chloe," Lana replied unconvincingly. "Well, what I mean is … it's not her responsibility … is it?"
"Don't tell me you think Miss Bertinelli's still in the mob?" Clark demanded. "Just look at her. She's clearly happy here. She only wants a clean slate. She wants to leave her past behind her."
"I know," Lana observed, "but someone was clearly afraid that Chloe might expose Tony Zucco's ties to the Bertinelli murders. Is it even possible that someone with a past like that can ever leave it behind?"
Clark was about to answer, when the gym doors burst open. Chloe quickly crossed the gym, and attracted the glares of the Crows volleyball team. They had heard the rumours swirling around the school about Miss Bertinelli's notorious past and believed that the Torch editor had spread those stories.
Mindy turned to Clark. "Clark, you're a friend of hers?"
"Well –" Clark began, but he seemed to be at a loss for words. "—yeah ... she's my friend."
Mindy scowled at him. "Then, you can forget about our study date. Tell your 'friend' that she should stop saying bad things about Miss Bertinelli! She's done nothing wrong!" Chloe felt a chill across the gym. The entire team glowered angrily at her as they left for the girls' locker room.
"If looks could kill," Chloe replied. She punched Clark in the shoulder. "It would have been nice if you had immediately declared: yes, Chloe is one of my closest friends. Thanks for your heartfelt reply, buddy."
"Sorry, Chloe!" Clark pleaded. "Mindy caught me off-guard. And it wasn't actually a date. She asked me for help with history, I said yes and –" He could tell that neither Chloe nor Lana bought his lame explanations.
"So I've annoyed yet another group of jocks," Chloe scoffed. "Quelle surprise. That's not why I'm here. I was watching WGBS NEWSand they reported that someone tried to shoot Frankie the Janitor at the county jail about half an hour ago!"
Clark couldn't believe it. Despite the unusual activities in Smallville, Lowell County was generally safe. Mob hits occurred in Metropolis' seedier neighbourhoods, not out here in the countryside. Now it seemed that someone wanted to silence a Zucco mobster. Either Zucco himself wanted to erase a rogue mobster who acted without his approval – or a rival wanted to send a clear message to Zucco.
"Do you think that –" Lana began, but she was afraid to complete her sentence. They were all thinking the same thing.
"No," Clark insisted. "No! She had nothing to do with it. How could she – she was here at the game!"
The gym was now empty; the crowd had moved their celebrations outside. Chloe didn't want to disappoint Clark, or further damage his faith in Miss Bertinelli, but she was no longer sure that the new history teacher was worthy of that faith. "I realize that you want to believe that she has left her past behind, but you have to look at the facts, Clark."
Clark packed away his reporter's notebook and tape recorder. "That's the problem, Chloe. There are no 'facts' here. It's all rumours and speculation! Everyone's jumping to conclusions about Miss Bertinelli's past and why she's here. Lana … you agree with me, right?"
Lana hesitated. "I don't think Miss Bertinelli's directly involved. But that janitor did say that Zucco didn't want his name connected to the Bertinelli murders. Someone wants the janitor to keep his mouth shut."
"Clark … hello!" Chloe exclaimed. "Bruised arm here! Zucco beat the murder rap and would probably like to keep the Bertinelli murders buried in Gotham's past. Only a rival of the Zucco mob would benefit from exposing its lurid details. Whether that rival is one of Morgan Edge's cronies, the Jazzman Syndicate or some vindictive branch of La Cosa Nostra is anybody's guess. You have to admit that Helena Bertinelli's recent arrival – around the time Tony Zucco decided to mimic 'The Donald' with that project in Metropolis – is more than coincidental."
"Well, you can believe all the rumours going around town," Clark declared emphatically, "but it's not right that Miss Bertinelli has to share her life story. She left Gotham City to avoid all this! Considering what she's gone through, she deserves some privacy." He left the gym to write his story for the Torch.
"Clark Kent: stubborn to the end," Chloe grumbled. She might have agreed with Clark's theory that Miss Bertinelli had severed her mob ties and moved to Kansas to start anew. But the image of Frankie's brass knuckles still haunted her. If Lex hadn't heard her screams, who knows what might have happened?
"He just wants what's best for Miss Bertinelli," Lana suggested. She was no longer as confident that her history teacher had truly left the mob behind.
"Maybe," Chloe answered, "but I suspect that the closer Tony Zucco and Miss Bertinelli get to crossing paths, the greater the odds we're all going to regret that they ever set foot in Kansas."