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Chapter Four - Lois Attends a Roast
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It was dusk when Lois arrived at Forever Loved. Parking her car in a space next to a black sports car, she rushed past the double glass doors and made a beeline for the receptionist's desk. The man looked surprised as Lois approached. He stood and said, "I must have forgotten to lock the door." He pressed a button on his phone as he continued. "Sorry lady, but we're closed."

"Oh. I see," she said as she whipped out her notebook and pen. "I was hoping I could speak to Mister Jones."

The man shook his head. "The store is closed. Mister Jones is gone for the day and I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Oh. Okay." Lois put her notebook and pen away and then checked her watch. "You're working kinda late, aren't you?"

"It happens sometimes. Mister Jones called a little before closing time at six and asked me to take care of some last minute bookkeeping issues before I went home. And home isn't getting any closer for me, lady, with you here. Now, if you will please leave."

Lois smiled and turned toward the door. Then she turned back to the man and frowned. "Look, you don't know my editor, but he's a real bear. I have to get a quote from Jones tonight. Did he say where he was when he called you at six? Maybe I can hunt him down."

"No! No, he didn't." The man said sharply as he moved from behind his desk. "I'll let him know you called on him tomorrow."

"Well, actually I can talk to you," Lois said as she glanced around the room to make sure they were alone.

"Me?"

"Yes," Lois said as she looked toward the wooden double doors. "My editor yelled me because I wrote down a quote from you the other day, but I didn't get your name."

The man frowned. "Me? You wrote down something I said?" He glanced toward the wooden double doors, then said hesitantly, "The name is Howard. Frank Howard."

Lois flashed a quick smile. "Howard? Your name rings a bell. Aren't you an officer of the Association or something? The Assistant Treasurer, perhaps?"

Howard shook his head. "You'd better go now. I'll tell Mister Jones you called."

Lois glanced at the wooden double doors and recognized the face of the person coming through them. She hurriedly moved to the exit. "You're right. I'd better be going. I'll see Mister Jones tomorrow."

Howard moved to the door and was about to open it for her when a woman yelled, "Stop her, Frank. Don't let her leave."

It was Gala Party. "She knows Jones is dead. She and Superman called the police."

Howard stepped in front of Lois and blocked the door.

"Frank switched on the intercom when you entered the room. I was in Franklin's office and heard you ask about Jones." She walked up to Lois and turned to Howard. "You idiot, why'd you say you just heard from Jones?"

Howard shrugged. "I was trying to get rid of her. I panicked. Okay? It happens." He turned back to Lois. "Looks like you're going to learn the urn making business from the inside." He grabbed Lois' left arm and grinned at Gala. "Gonna fire up the furnace!"

"Let go!" Lois yelled as she spun on the ball of her right foot and kicked Howard on the inside left knee with her left foot. As he buckled, she thrust the flattened palm of her right hand under his chin knocking him backwards into the door. Lois was about to step over him and run to her car when Gala hit her in the head with a ceramic urn. The urn shattered and so did Lois' consciousness.

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Sitting at his desk, Clark frowned as he scribbled the word "shrink" and the letter "F" on his notepad. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Shrink could mean anything. Clark brought his hands to his lips. What did it mean? Was Jones reminding himself of something?

Wait a minute. Clark leaned forward in his chair. Jones was a business man. Shrink was a business term for the loss of inventory between manufacture and sales, generally because of theft or fraud. Had Jones looked at his books and discovered he was a victim of theft? Had Blair discovered the theft first?

And who or what was "F?" Was "F" the reason for the shrink? Where's that sheet Lois had? Clark retrieved the Forever Loved information Board of Directors sheet from Lois' desk and scanned it. There weren't many names on the sheet. He stopped at the name: Robert Franklin. Of course, Clark thought, Jones must have found out that his vice-president was stealing from his company.

Clark smiled to himself, satisfied that he had the solution to the murder within his grasp. The smile faded from his face when he noticed the name of Frank Howard on the sheet as the Assistant Treasurer. He frowned in confusion. Was "F" a last name or a first name? Or was it even a person's name at all?

He glanced at his watch, then to Lois' empty desk. She should have been back by now or at least called.

Unless ... she was still with the police.

He looked up Detective Stahl's number in Lois' rolodex and called.

"Detective, Clark Kent with the Daily Planet. Is Lois Lane still there?"

"Lois Lane? We let her go more than a hour ago. And don't call me again unless you've got police business to conduct. I'm not your personal tracking service." The phone went dead with a click.

"No. No, you're not, Detective," Clark said aloud to himself as he dialed Lois' pager.

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Gala stared at the tied up Lane woman lying on the furnace conveyor belt. The woman was regaining consciousness and becoming aware of her situation. It pleased Gala to see the reporter struggling against her ropes. Those Girl Scout knot tying classes finally had been put to a good use, Gala thought.

The heat from the blast furnace was intense. Frank had cranked up the device much higher than it normally ran and Gala could see the beads of sweat starting to form on the reporter's brow as she lay about ten feet away from the open furnace door. The reporter's purse started beeping. Gala ignored it.

She looked at Frank. "I think those ropes will hold long enough." She turned to the reporter. "You know, I might have allowed you to die unconscious except you really hurt Frank back there. He wanted you to suffer for that and you know what? I agree with him. But one question before you ... depart us, Miss Lane," she smirked. "Why'd you come here if you knew Jones was dead?"

The Lane woman's eyes narrowed. "Why'd you kill him?"

"Because he figured out what was going on," Gala answered nonchalantly. "He found out that Frank was skimming money off the top of each association transaction. He called me and said he wanted to see Blair's books, to see what prices Blair had actually paid. He was on the phone with your reporter friend Kent when I came in the back door. So, I cut the phone line, shot him and then trashed the store to make it look like a robbery and left by the back door."

Gala frowned as she continued. "I wasn't sure I heard what time he told Kent to meet him so I watched the store from across the street, planning to enter the store with Kent and then we'd both find Jones and I'd make sure he'd be the one to call the police. But you showed up instead, then Superman appeared and I decided to leave before the police got there."

"That fake robbery didn't fool the police. I'm sure they're on to you by now."

"Yeah, right. I'm sure they'll bust through the door any minute now," Gala smiled, then frowned. "Now you stop playing us for fools. Why'd you come here?"

Lane cleared her throat. "Because I figured your boyfriend over there killed Blair or knew who did."

Frank bumped Gala aside to ask Lane, "What tipped you off?"

"When you called Franklin to see me at our first meeting, you mentioned that Blair had been shot. The news report said Blair was dead, but didn't say how he died. Miss Blue Eyes over there was told not to discuss the cause of death. Only the killer or someone who knew him could have known he was shot. And you knew."

Frank frowned and Gala put her arm around his waist. "Don't worry about it, dear," she said. "Late tonight, I'll call Kent, and tell him that I just remembered I heard Blair on the phone to Franklin, telling him that he knew Franklin was stealing from Jones' company and was going to report it. I'll ask him if it's important enough to tell the police. Naturally, he'll say yes. And I'll step forward because a reporter from a great metropolitan newspaper told me to and, as if by magic, the police will find Blair's books and the gun that killed Jones in Franklin's safe because ... I just put them there."

"You know you'll never get away with this, don't you?" the reporter said. "Clark Kent isn't that stupid. He'll see right through your ruse."

Frank limped over to the furnace one more time and then nodded at Gala. "Please! That's the kind of crap the hero spouts in the movies. We've already gotten away with it. Kent was so desperate for a story, he did exactly what we expected him to do when Gala pointed him to Jones. Franklin will be blamed for killing Blair and Jones so he could get control of the Association. It was quite a money maker for Jones."

Gala walked over to the sink counter against the wall, opened a first aid kit and removed a large wadding of cotton. "Naturally," she said turning back to the reporter, "with Blair and Jones gone and Franklin in jail, poor Mister Howard will have to run both companies, as best he can, all by himself. I guess he'll have to hire someone to help him. Any idea who that might be, Frank darling?"

"You did all of this for a job?" the reporter said incredulously.

Gala sneered. "No, you stupid cow. I did all of this for my husband and a million dollars."

"You two are married?"

Frank walked back to Gala and kissed her on the cheek. "Last night." He paused. "You know, we make some very fine urns here, Miss Lane. This beauty," he said pointing to the furnace. "Can turn out thirty urns an hour. We've never used it as a crematorium, but there is a first time for everything, isn't there? At the minimum, I figure you'll be burned beyond recognition, but if it's any consolidation to you, all the metal and plastic on you and in your purse will probably ruin the furnace. But I can't take any chances. I need to sure there is as little left of you as possible." He sighed. "Might have to use part of our first million to replace the furnace." He smiled as he ran his finger down the side of Lane's face, then he slapped her. "Just thought you should know how inconvenient you've been."

Gala shook her head and then stood next to Lane. "You know, as one woman to another, it would pain me if I had to hear you suffering ... so..." The reporter screamed, "Superman!" as Gala shoved the cotton wadding in the woman's mouth.

Satisfied with her handiwork, Gala put the woman's purse on the conveyor belt next to the struggling reporter. The woman's pager went off again as she turned to her husband, "Do it, Frank."

Suddenly there was a loud crash as Superman broke through the warehouse roof. He swooped down and took the reporter off the moving conveyor belt and set her down against the far wall. Then at super speed, he knocked out Frank and untied the Lane woman and using the same rope tied up Gala and Frank. Then he shut off the conveyor belt, blew out the flames in the furnace, shut the furnace off and placed Gala and Frank across the belt near the furnace door.

It was all a red and blue blur to the stunned and dazed Gala, who watched as Superman with his back to her stopped to kneel down next to the reporter.

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"Lois!" Clark whispered as he gently removed the cotton wadding from her mouth. He'd moved so fast Lois didn't have time to remove the cotton herself.

"Cla ... Superman," Lois stammered. He could see she was trying to get the residual cotton fibers out of her mouth with her fingers, grimacing as she did so. "What took you so long?"

Clark smiled. "Had to find you first. I used the sound of your pager like a tracker."

"Yeah, like you never know where I'm at. Thanks."

"Are you okay?"

Lois nodded, "My head hurts and my throat's dry, but it beats being broiled."

At super speed, Clark rushed to the sink and got Lois a cup of water. He watched her sip the water to wet her mouth, then he helped her stand. "Why don't you call Detective Stahl? He'll be very interested in these two."

She handed the cup back to him and shook her head. "Not until you tell me what you saw in Blair's store. Partners, remember?"

Clark grinned. "I never said I saw anything. You just assumed I did." He paused as Lois looked skeptical. "I didn't see anything unusual and that's the truth, but it seemed to make you happy to think I had, plus it just got you to call me partner again."

Clark didn't have to have super hearing to hear Lois' growl as she glared at him before stomping off in search of a phone.

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(Friday Afternoon)

Lois sat at her desk, occasionally glancing over at Clark's empty one. Jimmy stopped at her desk with the final evening edition of the Planet in his hand. "Wow, Lois. This was a great story you and Clark wrote."

"Thanks, Jimmy."

Jimmy looked over to Clark's desk. "Speaking of C.K., wonder where he's at? I haven't seen him all afternoon.

Lois looked up at one of the TV monitors in the newsroom showing Superman rescuing people in a flooded village in China. She stood, shrugged her shoulders. "Eh, who knows where Clark's at, Jimmy?" She grabbed her handbag and headed for the elevator. "You know him. He's probably out somewhere saving the world."

End