STEEL THY HEART: CHAPTER FOUR
Later, in the Watchtower, J'onn and the Flash listened as the Man of Steel relayed his report on the museum robbery. He pulled his hand from his cape's pocket, saying, "I need to have this sample analyzed."
The Flash peered over at the slide and frowned. "I don't see anything," he said, taking it.
"There's something on there. It just isn't visible to the naked eye," Superman told him.
"Did you smell anything? If so, what did it smell like?" the Martian Manhunter asked.
"Nothing I've encountered, but I did detect a trace of something that smelled like Professor Hamilton's laboratory on the case," the caped superhero told the Martian.
"So we're dealing with a chemical that came from Star Labs?" the Flash stated the obvious.
"Possibly. That could explain the fact that nothing was disturbed. This certainly resembles something someone using a chemical substance could do," the green superhero said to the Flash and Superman.
"Yeah," the Flash replied. "Since Bats isn't here, I'll get on it. I'll let you both know if I find anything." The red clad superhero sped into the lab.
"In the meantime, I'll find out where Catwoman's staying while she's at the police station," the Man of Steel told his fellow alien. "Maybe I can pick up a clue."
The green skinned Martian picked up a stray thought from Kal-El. So, J'onn thought, he is intrigued by her. I hope this does not develop into a situation. Before the Manhunter could talk to him, Superman teleported back to Metropolis.
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In her temporary cell at the police station, the woman smiled as she lay upon her cot. So far, things were proceeding exactly the way she wanted them to go. She knew that she would be set free when the evidence was studied, and then she would be at liberty to continue until she reached her overall goal. The woman sat up as she spied a brown jacket out of the corner of her eye. She gazed at a shy, slightly slumping man with horn rimmed glasses sitting on a straight nose. His dark hair gleamed in the harsh lights of the holding area, and his blue eyes were assertive and alert despite his outward projection of meekness. Behind him, a guard escorted the man toward the cell.
"Ten minutes, no more," the guard said, turning his back on the pair.
When the guard was completely gone, the other man turned to face the woman. "Miss Kyle?" he asked. "I'm Clark Kent from the Daily Planet." Clark whipped out a pad, saying, "I would like to ask a few questions about the robbery."
The woman's brows shot up, but she otherwise said nothing. Clark tried again. "I want to hear your side of the story. Why did you steal a gem worth only $50,000 on the open market?" he asked, his pad open.
The woman shrugged, saying, "I needed the money for my cats."
It was the reporter's turn to raise a brow. "This may be a stupid idea, but you could have just gone to the grocery store and gotten cat food on sale for that," Clark replied dryly.
"Are you making fun of me, Mr. Kent?" the woman asked. Clark shook his head. He suddenly saw the color of the woman's eyes: emerald green, just like the almost stolen jewel. He had to know what secrets resided in those eyes.
"Look, I can probably make this worth your while," he said conspiratorially. "If you tell your story to me, I'll see what I can do."
"I don't think so," the woman told the journalist. "I want a lawyer first."
"I could help you find one," Clark volunteered, "but you must give me some information to go on." He poised his pen above the paper, ready to write anything she deigned to tell him.
"Sorry," she said, "but I would rather find my own lawyer and talk with him. Until I do, I will give absolutely no statements to the press." Clark's shoulders slumped even more than usual. He took his card out of his coat pocket and handed it to her.
"Well, after you speak to your lawyer, why don't you give me a call?" he said softly. "I might still be able to help you somehow."
The woman took the card, turning away from the reporter. Clark smiled as he left the holding area, marveling at the latest technology the League was privy to. If she even so much as let out a peep, the sophisticated microchip embedded in the business card would transmit everything she said, giving him some clues. He went to his desk at the Planet and, activating the receiver embedded in his computer, settled in front of his terminal to wait.
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When the guard brought the burglar to the pay phone to make her one phone call, the woman quickly punched in the numbers she had been waiting to call.
"Hello?" a voice said on the other end of the line. It was a male, harsh sounding voice, with a Russian or Albanian accent.
"The trap has been sprung," the woman said into the phone. "Now, you must act."
"Of course," the man said. "I will make sure that there are enough clues in the apartment to complete the next stage. When you get out, you will go back there."
"To the Cheshire Gates Apartments again?" the woman asked. "Whatever for?"
"It is your home until we complete our plans," the man said. "Just remember to stick to the scenario we set."
"Oh, don't worry," the woman promised. "I will stick to the plan. Once our goal is complete, we shall celebrate."
"There will be ample time for congratulations so long as you don't screw this up," the Albainian man replied.
The woman rolled her eyes, saying, "I don't make mistakes! That is why I am handling this one!"
"Of course," the man said, projecting false confidence. "I will see you when I am able. Good bye."
The phone call was terminated. After the last click of the line, the Big Blue Boy Scout smiled at all he heard and headed for the Cheshire Gates Apartment complex.