hours later:: 
Lois Lane looked across the room at Clark Kent's empty chair. Perry was already asking her where Clark was. ::that Clark is never sick, and would always call.
Suddenly she felt chills all over her rug. Quickly grab a pack of cigarettes and quickly walked to the exit of the Daily.
Nor did he answer his home phone. With a loud noise she turned her car onto the busy street, her window open where the smoke from her
Lost cigarettes, was the stress of habit, she quickly lit another one. A car honked because she almost hit him.
Arriving at 344 Clinton Street, she entered the building. They were often here who knows poor man with his classic record collection
and uber neat Apartment thought they were fleeting as they stood on his doorstep. No response to calling. No one to be seen...quickly she put out one
plastic card in the door and an oversized hair pinned in the lock. The door opened to what came with it. "Clark...it's Lois...I'm coming in" 
she said naively more to herself. To her left on a table were LP's from bach beethoven and ABBA "brrr what a tasted clarky has"
She quickly goes to the bedroom,  nothing but a pair of net pajamas lies on the bed. Bathroom no Clark either. "Strange the door to balcony is open"
"No papers with his home telephone, of course, that man cleans everything up neatly" she sighs and lights a cigarette. She closes the door softly.

From across the street, Bruce watches through his electronically amplified binoculars as Lois enters and disappears into the apartment. "She should be less
smoking" he thinks fleetingly. With his cap and fake mustache on, bruce walks over to Lois's car and places a magnet on it so he can follow her.

Lois fleetingly sees the man with the mustache and cap on "what a gangster for this neat neighborhood" she thinks as she quickly drive away.