Chapter 48 “Stanford & Young”

Clark checked if his collar was buttoned securely before he stepped out of the parking lot towards the grand entrance of the brand new building in front of him. It looked prestigious and intimidating despite the small mounds of sand the construction workers had left scattered around the ground. It was a tall, square building made of a light coloured brick. The building had many large windows, and on the roof stood big neon letters spelling ‘Stanford & Young Publications’.

The automatic doors slid open smoothly as Clark approached, allowing him to step into a very spacey and white lobby. The walls were lined with pictures of several magnified book covers, and in the far corner a group of square seats were grouped around a small table. The reception-desk was placed in the middle of the room, dominating the space. Clark stepped towards it. “Excuse me…”

A pretty blonde looked up from what looked like a fashion magazine. Her eyes travelled over his outfit and her eyebrows knit together. “Can I help you?”

“Yes.” Clark groped in his breast pocket for his press card. “My name is Clark Kent. I work for the Daily Planet.” He showed her the card, before stuffing it back. “I’d like to speak with Mr… Giles Richardson.”

“You’re a reporter?” The blonde looked at him with more interest than she did before. “Is this about that Basinger guy they found?” When Clark nodded the girl shoved her magazine to the side and leaned forward, intrigued. “Isn’t it awful the way they found him floating in the river?” She said enthusiastically.

“Actually, the found him on the riverbank, Miss…”

“Amanda.” The blonde said, shooting a smile at him.

“Miss Amanda. Did you know Mr Basinger personally?” Clark asked, knowing the answer before she gave it.

“Well, no…” She drew back a little. “But everyone knows him now, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” Clark pushed back his glasses. “I need to speak with someone who knew him well. I believe Mr Giles Richardson was his employer?”

Amanda nodded and drew back, discouraged by the lack of juicy details. “Third floor.”

“Thank you.” Clark smiled, but Amanda’s attention had already returned to her magazine.

The third floor was very different from the lobby. True, it had the same roomy white build, but whereas the lobby had been calm and quiet, this floor was bustling with activity. It reminded Clark of the Daily Planet, and he immediately felt at ease. However, Clark Kent wasn’t supposed be at ease so he hunched his shoulders and fidgeted with his glasses as he approached the first person he saw. “E-Excuse me?” He stepped towards a square-jawed man who was busy rummaging in a file. A quick scan told Clark it contained administrative information about employees. “I’m looking for Giles Richardson.”

“I’m sorry. Giles is in a meeting. That could take a while.” The man looked up briefly from his search and waited a second before adding; “Do you have an appointment?”

“Uhm, no.” Clark grimaced. “But I was hoping he would have some time anyway. I wanted to ask a few questions about Earl Basinger.”

The man suddenly looked up, surprised. “Well, you can ask me then. I’ve worked with Earl longer than Giles has.” He shut the file, ending his search, then stuck out his hand. “Martin Stevens”.

“Clark Kent.” Clark shook his hand, and pointed to the cabinet with the other. “It seemed like you were busy.”

“Nothing important.” Martin Stevens waved it away. “What did you want to know about Earl?”

“Well,” Clark pulled out his notepad. “how long did you work with him?”

“Ever since he joined the company. I arrived before he did. So that must have been … ten years ago? Maybe even longer.”

“Ten…” Clark scribbled it down on his notepad. Martin started walking, and Clark followed. “Can you tell me something about Earl? What was he like?”

“Earl…” Martin Stevens looked thoughtful. “Earl was a great man. A hard worker. Dedicated, loyal. But to people who didn’t know him well he might have looked boring…” Martin smiled weakly. “He was rather quiet.”

Clark walked with Martin to an empty office, took a seat, and wrote down the keywords as Martin spoke. “Hard worker, dedicated, loyal, quiet… How about the last few weeks before his death?”

Martin, who had been staring out of the window, looked at Clark sharply. “He acted different. Odd.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Clark closely. “How did you know that?”

Clark shrugged. “A hunch.”

“Well, you were right. I was just talking about it with the guys the other day. He was acting odd. Like he didn’t enjoy his work anymore. He was jumpy, and easily distracted. It wasn’t like him at all. And then he stopped showing up at work altogether. Nobody knew where he was until they found him at the river.” His face sobered.

Clark’s pen scribbled away on the paper as he made notes. “And you have no idea what caused this sudden change? Did you ask him about it?” he asked hopefully. But Martin shook his head.

“I don’t know. I asked, but he said Timothy was going through a rough phase. That’s his son.” Martin clarified.

“But you didn’t believe him?” Clark asked.

“No…” Martin paused, and looked at Clark seizing him up. Judging from the increase in Martin’s pulse, he was unsure how much he was going to say. Clark schooled his features into an innocent look. Apparently, Martin seemed to decide Clark was trustworthy enough, because he leaned forward and his voice dropped; making it inaudible for anyone but Clark. “I think something happened to him. Something scared him.”

Clark nodded. “And you don’t know what that is?”

“No,” Martin sat back with a sigh. “I wish I did.”

“Well… can you tell me when this strange behaviour started?” Clark looked up in interest.

“Well…” Martin opened his mouth to answer when the door opened and a red headed, balding man came in.

“Martin, I…” He paused when he spotted Clark. “Oh, sorry. I’ll wait.”

“No, no, no… Pete, wait.” Martin looked from Clark to man named Pete. “This is Clark Kent, and he’s got some questions about Earl. Do you remember when Earl started to act strange?

Pete looked out of the window, thinking. “It was before we moved here… Our previous building collapsed in last year’s earthquake.” He clarified. “But not very long before. I say… one, maybe two weeks?”

“One or two weeks before the collapse.” Clark replied. Clark looked from his notepad to the two men in front of him. They seemed cooperative enough, but they hadn’t given him anything he could work with. He decided to start looking in a different direction. “Did Earl have any… enemies? Or a conflict that you know of?”

Martin shook his head, like Clark had expected, but his pulse quickened infinitesimally. Clark frowned. So he does know something interesting.

“So… he never argued with anyone?” Clark asked. Again Martin shook no, but Pete looked less confident.

“Well...” Pete started hesitantly. Martin shot him a warning look, but Pete continued. “I know he was having arguments with Rachel—his fiancé—just before he died. I didn’t ask what it was about. By that time he was hardly talking to us anyway.”

Clark was just writing down the word ‘family issues’ when the door opened again and another man hurried in. “Pete!” The man looked stressed. “There you are. Why aren’t you in your office? Martin, where are those papers I –“ he paused when he spotted Clark. “Who’s that?”

“Giles,” Martin said calmly “this is Clark Kent. He works for the Daily Planet.” Clark got up and offered his hand, but Giles Richardson only nodded curtly.

“Clark was asking us some questions about Earl.” Pete added. “He’s writing an article about him”

“So, you reporters are investigating murder cases too nowadays?” Giles Richardson had a most unpleasant attitude, and Clark was taken aback by his open hostility. He cleared his throat.

“Well, sir, as a matter of fact my partner Lois Lane and I are cooperating with Inspector Henderson to-”

Pete’s shot a look at Martin when Lois’ name was mentioned, but Giles’ scowl only seemed to get worse. “Really?” He sneered. “Then why was I just talking to the Inspector yesterday?”

“Well, I…” Clark didn’t have an answer, and Giles—smelling an easy victory—smirked.

“You can tell Perry White,” Giles opened the office door wide. “to stay the hell out of my business. Have a good day, Mr Kent.”

Clark stared at Giles for a brief moment before he pocketed his notepad. Pete and Martin shot him apologetic looks. Hiding his indignation, Clark pretended to be quailing under Giles Richardson’s glare. He walked past the man, out of the office, feeling this visit had been a complete waste of time.