Spider-Man held the gemstone out, not saying a thing. Jameson was an emotional and sensitive guy, underneath all that tormenting rage. He waited for Jameson to speak, in fear he might say the wrong thing. "W-where did you get that?" "At the site of the coke dealing, by the comics. Jameson, there was evidence of a fight there. I think he's in danger." "I-I don't know anything about this!" Jameson stuttered. Spider-Man could tell he was in depressing shock. Spider-Man could tell this man who loathed him with indescribable hatred was telling him the truth.
"Do you know where he is? I need to find him Jameson?" "No, I don't know where John is, Spider-Man. I had no idea he still had that stone." Spider-Man didn't want to badger Jameson. This gemstone belonged to his son, John Jameson, who was, well, now is, the Man-Wolf. "That stone is from space, Jameson. We have no idea if its effect on your son have grown or what!" Jameson sighed. "I know that Spider-Man. He's my son, you don't think I've done research of my own?" Spider-Man felt stupid.
John Jameson was behind this whole thing. How could Spider-Man explain this to the man before him? "Look, er-J.J., I need any info you got." "I don't got no info!" "Geeze! Sorry. Excuse me for living." Spider-Man tried to get Jameson's mind off of his hairy son and onto being angry at him, and giving him any information. "Jameson, you're probably in league with him. You're so doped up right now!" Jameson was enraged. Okay, so maybe he really didn't have any info. "Okay, okay. Geeze. I'll go before you pop a fucking vein!" And, like that, Jameson had been left alone to sulk and rampage.
Spider-Man loved when Jameson was red like that, but he needed to focus. If he went to the police and told them, which he would never do but thought about, they might harm Jameson Jr. So, that meant Spider-Man was out solo again. Which is really the way he liked it. Spider-Man walked out onto the roof of the Daily Bugle, clutching the broken stone in his fist. How could he find a werewolf from space? This would take more than his average superhuman skills. This would take a lot more.
Spider-Man couldn't think of a soul that could accompany him. Well, not really accompany, just to help him so he can take all the credit, basically. But he couldn't think of anyone for that, either. So, Spider-Man sat down and thought. He thought and thought and thought. How wonderful would it be if the answer just popped up right in your face? Well, that's what Spider-Man was wishing. But, as someone told him, be careful what you wish for. And something hit him right in the face. Literally.