Chapter 2

"Hey, Ward!" Danny bounded into Ward Meachum's office at Rand Enterprises, ignoring Ward's assistant and her pleas for him to wait. He stopped short when Ward held up a hand, and he noticed for the first time that Ward was on the phone. "Typical," Jessica said under her breath as she and Matt followed Danny into the corner office.

Ward finished his call and came out from behind his desk. "What's up, Danny?" he asked.

"This," he said, indicating Matt, "is Matt Murdock."

"It's good to finally meet you, Matt," Ward said, shaking Matt's outstretched hand. "Danny's told me all about you."

"Shit," Danny thought, cringing at Ward's comment and hoping Matt couldn't detect his reaction. He glanced at Matt, but he was poker-faced.

"And this," he said, indicating Jessica, "is Jessica Jones, his investigator." Jessica scowled at "his investigator." She wasn't "his" – not Matt Murdock's or any other man's. Ward extended his hand. "Ms. Jones." Jessica stood with her arms folded and turned away, tapping her foot. Ward withdrew his hand, looking confused.

"Please, have a seat," Ward said, indicating a round conference table in the corner of his office.

When they were seated around the table, Danny said, "I'm gonna let Matt explain why we're here."

"First," Matt said, "I want to assure you this is not about any potential litigation." He waved a hand. "My client is not looking to sue Rand Enterprises. . ."

Ward interrupted him. "Happy to hear it. I remember the Aaron James case. I was glad we weren't on the other side of that one."

"So was I," Matt agreed dryly, then continued, "Why we're here: I hired Jessica to look into the background of the other side's expert witness in one of my cases. His name is Marshall, uh, John Marshall," he said, making up a name for the imaginary "expert witness" on the spot. He gave a silent sigh of relief that he hadn't slipped up and said "Thurgood Marshall," then went on with his cover story. "Jess discovered that he worked on a Rand research project called 'Project 46.' We're looking to find out more about the project and his work on it."

Ward rubbed his chin. "Doesn't sound familiar. Let me check." He went back to his desk and tapped on his keyboard. After scrolling through several pages on the screen, he said, "Nothing on a 'Project 46' or an employee named 'John Marshall.' Are you sure about the project's name?"

"Yes," Jessica said, pulling out the photos of documents from the lab and offering them to Ward.

He walked back to the table and took them from her. He studied them for a moment, then asked, "I don't want to know how you got these, do I?"

"Right," Jessica confirmed.

"We think the project's located in a building in Hell's Kitchen, at 43rd and 10th," Matt said. "Is that one of your properties?"

Ward went back to his desk and tapped on his keyboard again. After a moment, he said, "Yes, it's one of ours. But the building is obsolete and has only been used for storage for the past twenty years, as far as I know. There's no record of any research project at that location."

Looking troubled, Ward rejoined Matt, Jessica, and Danny at the table. "It's been more than two years since my dad died – I mean, really died – and I'm still learning about things I wish I'd never known about. This is another one, isn't it?"

"Yeah, we think it is," Matt replied.

Ward sighed heavily. "I don't need this," he said. "If there's a lab there, I'll shut it down tomorrow."

"No, not yet," Danny told him. "We don't want to tip off whoever's running it that we're onto them."

Matt turned to Ward. "Is there anyone else we can talk to, someone who might know more about this?" he asked.

Ward thought for a moment, then said, "Clifford Roche, Director of R & D. My dad hired him originally. He's a brilliant scientist, but he's also an arrogant s.o.b. You know the type, he thinks the rules don't apply to him because he's so brilliant. The employees in his division joke that he thinks the "R" in the Rand logo refers to him. But if there's a research lab in that building, he'll know about it."

Matt stood up and extended his hand. "Thanks, Ward." He shook Ward's hand and followed Jessica out of the room.

Danny stayed behind for a moment. "I meant what I said about staying out of it," he told Ward. "You need to let me handle this."

Ward nodded. "OK."

As soon as Danny left Ward's office, Matt grabbed his arm and propelled him into a nearby conference room. He spun Danny around and stood facing him. "You told him," he demanded, in his lowest and most menacing voice, "about me?"

"But, Matt, . . . I . . . look. . ." Danny spluttered.

Jessica followed them into the conference room and closed the door. "What part of 'secret identity' do you not understand?" she asked.

Danny fell into a chair. "Look, guys, I'm sorry," he said, holding out his hands. "But I thought you were dead . . . ."

"Well, I'm not," Matt snapped, "and even if I was, I'm not the only person who'd be hurt if this got out. What about Foggy? And Karen? Did you even think about them?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Jesus." He stalked to the far end of the room and stood with his back to Danny and Jessica, breathing heavily.

"You really put your foot in it this time, Ironclad," Jessica drawled.

Danny looked up at her, not even bothering to call her on the nickname. "I'm really sorry. I guess I wasn't thinking . . . ."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"But we can trust Ward, I'm sure of it."

"You better hope so," Jessica said pointedly.

It was several minutes before Matt cooled off enough to continue the conversation. Finally, he walked back to Danny and Jessica. "Ward was telling the truth when he said he didn't know about the project," he said.

Danny gave a sigh of relief. "Good. I didn't want to think Ward could be involved in something like that. But Harold had some shady shit going on, even before he got mixed up with the Hand and died for the first time – "

Jessica interrupted him. "Enough already with this weird coming back from the dead shit." Matt raised his eyebrows quizzically. "Not you, asshole." Jessica punched him lightly in the biceps. "You weren't really dead."

Danny gave Jessica an irritated look. " – and I was worried Ward could've been sucked in."

"He wasn't," Matt assured him. "Not into this, anyway."

"Good," Danny said. "I'll let you know when we can see that Roche dude."

In spite of Ward's call to set up the meeting – or maybe because of it – Clifford Roche, M.D., Ph.D., kept Danny, Matt, and Jessica waiting for fifteen minutes before they were admitted to his office the following afternoon. Even after they entered the office, Roche pointedly continued reading the document he was holding in his hand, in no hurry to acknowledge them. When he finally put the papers down and looked up, Danny introduced Matt and Jessica. Roche stared at them openly, not bothering to conceal his interest. He gestured at the visitors' chairs across the desk from him. "Have a seat, have a seat," he said distractedly.

Jessica returned Roche's gaze. He appeared to be in his sixties, tall and white-haired. Most people would describe his appearance as "distinguished" or "patrician," but she thought "rich asshole" was a better fit.

Matt started to tell the story about the "expert witness," but Roche interrupted him, waving his hand impatiently. "Yes, yes, yes," he said. "I've never had an employee named – John Marshall, was it?" Roche emphasized the name in a way that told Matt he'd seen through his cover story. Matt groaned inwardly, but there was nothing to do but keep going.

"What about the project?" he asked. "Can you tell us anything about a research project called 'Project 46'?"

"Nothing," Roche declared. "What sort of project did you say it was?"

"I didn't. But we think it was some kind of basic research, at the cellular level – genes, mutations, that sort of thing." Roche's eyes flicked up, and his head jerked, at the mention of "genes" and "mutations."

"That doesn't sound like one of our projects," Roche replied. His Boston accent grated on Matt's ears. "Our research is generally of the applied variety, things that are more immediately useful – and profitable."

Matt stood up. "Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Roche." He turned to leave.

"It's Dr. Roche. And there is one thing I can tell you about this so-called "project" you're so interested in."

"Yeah, what's that?" Jessica asked skeptically.

"Forty-six is the number of chromosomes in human cells," Roche informed them condescendingly.

Danny, Matt, and Jessica walked out without another word and headed for Danny's office.

"Lyin' piece of shit," Matt fumed as soon as Danny closed the door to his office. "Whatever's going on in that lab, he's part of it." He followed Danny and Jessica to the other side of the office, where they sat around a small work table.

"Yeah," Jessica agreed. "Ward was right – the guy's a real dick. But he's not as smart as he thinks he is. He just had to tell us what '46' means – he couldn't help himself."

"And did you see his reaction when Matt mentioned 'genes' and 'mutations'?' Danny asked. "He knew we were on to him."

Matt added, "Yeah, his heart rate and adrenaline spiked when I said that."

"That's not all," Jessica told him, "you should have seen the way he was looking at me – like I was a lab rat or something. Creeped me out."

"He must know who you are, Jess," Matt said. "He's gotta be interested in your powers and how you got them." He waved his hand. "So, yes, to him you're a lab rat, something to experiment on."

"It wasn't only Jess," Danny said. "Roche was looking at you the same way, Matt. You think he knows who you are?"

Matt rested his chin on his hands, thinking. "Probably," he replied."Maybe not about Daredevil, but I'd bet good money he knows I'm the kid from the accident. And he knows what the stuff in the barrels does – "

Danny completed his thought, " – which means he knows about your powers."

"Bingo," Matt said grimly.

"OK," Jessica said, "so we know Roche is behind the project. How do we stop him?"

Matt rubbed his forehead, thinking. "I'm not sure," he said. "We don't really have anything on him – it's not like we can tell people I know he was lying. We need to force his hand somehow."

"How?" Danny asked.

Matt shook his head. "I don't know. But we'll find a way."

Three days later, Matt was getting ready for a pretrial hearing, rehearsing his arguments in support of his client's release on his own recognizance, when Jessica called. "Check out NY1," she told him, "the story about the 'Vampire House'."

"'Vampire House'?"

"Just check it out," she insisted, and hung up.

Matt found the page on his laptop and listened to the report. "Bay Ridge resident Donald Porter, 56, was found deceased in his home yesterday afternoon, the result of an apparently self-inflicted gunshot wound. According to the Medical Examiner, he had been dead for at least a day. Police found him after an anonymous caller requested a welfare check. Porter's home was known in the neighborhood as the 'Vampire House' because of its heavy blackout curtains and the fact that Porter only ventured out of his home at night. Police sources indicated Porter may have suffered from a rare medical condition, but the Medical Examiner would not confirm this. Porter was retired from Rand Enterprises, where he worked as . . ."

Matt had heard enough. He slammed his laptop shut and walked away, breathing heavily and cursing under his breath, "Goddammit, goddammit . . . ." When he reached the kitchen, he picked up a coffee mug and hurled it against the brick wall with a howl of rage. It shattered. He continued to pace, clenching his fists and muttering curses, for several minutes. Eventually, he ended up back at his desk. He spun his chair around and sat down.

When he finally slowed his breathing and heart rate, he checked the time. "Shit," he said under his breath. He was going to be late for court if he didn't leave right now. He put on his glasses and jacket, grabbed his briefcase and folded cane, and ran down the stairs, hoping he didn't encounter any of his neighbors on his way out.

Somehow Matt made it through the hearing. As soon as it was over, he went straight to Jessica's apartment. He banged on the door, yelling, "Open up, Jones! I know you're in there!" When the door opened, he pushed it aside and barged in.

"You think you're pretty cute, don't you, Jones?" he exploded. "You couldn't just tell me?" Jessica walked back to her desk and sat behind it. Matt followed her and stood on the opposite side of the desk, facing her, his hands on his hips.

"Chill out, Murdock," she replied nonchalantly. "I wasn't in the mood to deal with your drama."

"Well, guess what, you can deal with it now." Matt leaned over the desk and pointed a finger at her. "You know it's bullshit – that was no suicide. Porter knew too much, and Roche killed him because of it."

"Based on what, counselor? I thought lawyers were supposed to deal in facts."

"You want facts?" Matt countered. "I'll give you facts." He ticked them off on his fingers. "We go to see Roche, asking about the project. A couple of days later, Porter turns up dead. You don't think that's just a little bit fishy?"

Jessica looked doubtful. "Yes, but why kill him after he's talked to us? If Roche wanted to silence him, he was too late. It doesn't add up."

"A lot of what he told us is inadmissible hearsay. With Porter dead, there's no one to testify to it. He was a loose end, Roche couldn't let him live. Plus, Roche knows the stuff Porter was working on is the same stuff that spilled on me in the accident. He has to know we know. Who do you think made the anonymous call? Without it, Porter wouldn't have been found for days, maybe even weeks. It's not a coincidence. Roche wanted him to be found. He's sending us a message, trying to draw us out."

"But they're saying it was suicide," Jessica protested, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair. "And you were with me at Porter's house, you talked to him. His life was a living hell. Maybe it finally became unbearable. I mean, we can't really know what he was going through. . . ."

"I do."

"Oh, shit," Jessica thought. She began to speak, "Matt, I – " but the look on Matt's face silenced her. There was nothing she could say.

After a moment, Matt waved his hand. "Forget it." He pulled up a chair and sat down. "I wanted to force Roche's hand, but not like this. I should have seen this coming, gotten him somewhere safe." He hung his head and ran a hand through his hair. "This is my fault."

"Enough with the Catholic guilt, Murdock," Jessica told him. "Porter would never have left his house. And he hadn't been involved with the project for five years. There was no reason to think he would be a target."

Matt shook his head. "Believe what you want," he said, "but I'm telling you he was murdered."

She shrugged. "Whatever. What do we do now?"

"If Dr. Roche wants to draw us out, we're not gonna disappoint him."

It was after midnight when Danny strode into the lobby of the Rand building, followed by Jessica and Matt. Matt's glasses and his folded cane were in the pockets of his hoodie. He didn't want anyone remembering Danny was with a blind guy.

One of the security guards looked up from the bank of monitors. He recognized Danny and waved them through. "Hey, Jake," Danny greeted him. "How's it goin'?"

"Can't complain, Mr. Rand."

They took the elevator to the 36th floor, as if they were going to Danny's office. Then they made their way along the dark corridors to the stairwell and walked the ten flights down to the 26th floor, where Danny's key card opened Roche's office. With the credentials that gave him access to all of Rand Enterprises, Danny logged on to the computer on Roche's desk and began copying files onto a flash drive. Matt used Jessica's lock picks to open one of the file cabinets, and Jessica began to search it.

Jessica was going through the third file drawer when she suddenly stopped and did a double-take. She glanced at Danny, who was looking the other way, then removed a folder and stuffed it in her bag. Matt noticed but said nothing. He went back to picking the lock on the next file cabinet, and Jessica resumed her search.

A few minutes later, Danny leaned back in Roche's chair while a large file was being copied. "Hey, Matt," he said, "where do you think Roche is going with his project?"

"I don't know for sure," Matt replied. "We know he wanted to create people with abilities, but what he was going to do with them, if he succeeded – " he shrugged, "that's anyone's guess. He would have to have a way to control them . . ."

"Control them how?" Danny asked. "Like Kilgrave?" Jessica shot him a dirty look at the mention of Kilgrave.

"Maybe," Matt said. "Or he could use threats – or money – or sex – or addictions. There are a lot of ways to manipulate people into doing what you want."

"He could have been planning to indoctrinate them, you know, brainwashing, like a cult," Jessica suggested.

"You think he could do that?" Danny asked.

"Well, Madame Gao's followers blinded themselves, so, yes, anything's possible," Matt said grimly. He bent down to pick the lock on a small file cabinet, but before he got it open, he stood up and turned his head to one side.

"What – ?" Danny began. Matt held up a hand to silence him. On the far side of the building, a man said, "No guns. Remember, he wants 'em alive. Just grab the blind guy and the girl and get out." Another voice asked, "What blind guy?" The first voice answered, "The one that ain't Danny Rand, moron." Then there were multiple footsteps, headed in the direction of Roche's office.

"Someone's coming," Matt told the others. "They're after Jess and me."

"How many?" Danny asked.

"Six."

"Shit," Jessica said under her breath.

Matt held out a hand to her. "I need your scarf."

"Give me a break," she grumbled, but handed it over. Matt tied it around his head.

Moments later, six black-clad men appeared at the office door. "Get them," one of them ordered, and they charged into the office.

Two men grabbed Matt and tried to drag him toward the door. He fought back, with a sharp elbow to the kidney of the man behind him. He twisted and chopped down on the man's wrist, forcing him to release his grip. Matt spun to his right and landed a punch on the side of the second man's head. He staggered but didn't go down. Matt went after him and got him in a chokehold. He strained to maintain the hold while the first man tried to pull him off. Finally, he felt the man in the chokehold go limp. Matt let him slide to the floor, then ducked and spun away from the man behind him. He kicked out, connecting with the man's stomach and sending hmi flying. He fell onto a chair, which overturned and splintered from the impact.

Two other men were attempting to hold Danny back as he fought to break free. He twisted and lashed out with his left foot, hitting one of them squarely in the knee. He crumpled to the floor, screaming in pain.

Across the room, Jessica was struggling with a single attacker, who had her in a bear hug. She kneed him in the groin, and he let go, howling in pain. She landed a punch that stunned him, then picked him up and threw him against the wall. The drywall shattered, and he fell to the floor, unmoving. The man who appeared to be the leader of the group grabbed Jessica from behind and began pulling her toward the door. Danny pivoted away from his remaining adversary and threw him to the floor. He ran to her, chopping down on her would-be kidnapper's arm to break his hold. Bones crunched, and he let go. Jessica made sure he stayed down.

The second man who had been holding Danny back came up from behind him. Jessica screamed, "Behind you, Danny!" Danny spun and unleashed a kick, hitting the man in the chest. A single punch from Jessica put him out of action.

Matt was still holding off the sixth man. He landed a sharp uppercut on his opponent's jaw. The man recoiled from the impact but stayed on his feet. Matt leaped and twisted in the air, his right foot striking the man's rib cage with a satisfying crack. He went down and stayed down.

"Let's get out of here," Danny said, panting. Jessica ran back to Roche's desk and grabbed her bag and the flash drive. Matt took off Jessica's scarf and handed it to her, along with her lock picks, before they followed Danny out of the office.

They took a cab to Matt's apartment. "Nice place," Danny said, standing at the end of the entry hall and looking around.

"Thanks, man." Matt went to the kitchen and pulled out his first aid kit. It only took a few minutes for them to patch themselves up. When they were done, Matt grabbed beers from the fridge for himself and Danny. Jessica helped herself to a generous portion of Matt's whiskey. They took their drinks into the living room and sat around the coffee table.

"What the hell was that?" Danny asked.

"Lab rats," replied Jessica. Danny gave her a questioning look. "Roche knows Matt and I have . . . powers. He wants to study us, maybe experiment on us."

Matt nodded. "She's right. Before they showed up, I heard one of them saying 'he' wanted Jess and me alive. It's gotta be Roche." He took a long drink of his beer.

Jessica took the flash drive out of her bag and handed it to Danny. He put it in his pocket. "I'll get this analyzed, but it may take a few days," he said. He picked up his bottle of beer and drank, then asked, "How'd those guys know we were there?"

"The security guards. Roche must've paid off some of them," Jessica told him.

"Maybe Rand needs to pay them more," Matt observed dryly.

"Now what?" Danny asked. "You want me to shut down the lab?"

"Not yet," Matt replied. "If you shut it down now, he could start up the operation again somewhere else. We don't only want to shut down the lab, we want to stop Roche. But he knows we're on to him now. If we're going to stop him, we need to know what he's up to. We need watch him and the lab." He turned toward Jessica. "Jess?"

She nodded. "You got it. I'll get Malcolm to help."

Danny finished his beer in one swallow and stood up. "You'll keep me posted?" Matt nodded and walked him to the door.

When Matt returned to the living room, Jessica was still sitting on the couch. "I haven't finished this," she said, lifting her glass. "And there's something you need to see – " Matt grinned at her. " – uh, know."

She pulled the file folder from her bag. "I found this in Roche's office. It's labeled 'Murdock'." She opened the file and began to read. She turned a few pages, then muttered under her breath, "Son of a bitch."

"What is it?" Matt asked, sitting down on the couch next to her.

"It's a Release of All Claims. Looks like it was signed by your dad. He gives up your claims against Rand, and they agree to pay him five grand and take care of your medical bills from the accident."

Matt shook his head. "Oh, Dad," he sighed.

Jessica kept reading. "There's also a memo from Roche, instructing his staff to tell your dad the release is just a formality, and he needs to sign to get your medical bills paid." She turned the page. "And there's another one, telling the lawyers to settle the case fast, before your dad hires a lawyer, they need to bury it, so no one finds out what was in the barrels."

Matt absorbed this information in silence. Finally, he said thoughtfully, "After the accident, my dad opened a credit union account for me. The first deposit was $5,000. I always wondered where that money came from."

"Now you know."

"Yeah."

Jessica finished her drink and left. After he closed the door behind her, Matt went back to the living room, turning off the lights on the way, and sat down on the couch. He remained there for hours, sitting alone in his darkened apartment in the dead of night. He finally knew what he'd set out to discover, but that knowledge brought no feeling of accomplishment. He still had work to do. He thought he'd accepted what happened to him all those years ago. But he hadn't made his peace with it – not completely. His need to know the truth about the accident proved that. Sure, he'd learned to live with his heightened senses and his blindness, but he never chose to have those 'gifts.' When he was growing up in the orphanage, the nuns told him he had to accept what had happened to him, it was God's will, God had a plan for him. Even then, he'd doubted it. The merciful and just God he wanted to believe in wouldn't do that, not to an innocent child. It was man's doing. Now he knew the man who had done it. A man who wanted to play God and didn't care how many people he damaged along the way. A man for whom the accident was no more than a minor inconvenience, an insignificant bump in the road. To Roche, nine-year-old Matt Murdock was someone to be brushed aside, bought off, disposed of, without a second thought. Now he would make Roche pay. He didn't know it back then, but the accident that took his sight and heightened his senses also gave him his mission: to deliver justice, working within the law or outside it, for those who were discarded so casually by the wealthy and powerful. God's plan or not, this was what he was called to do.

Sitting in the diner across the street from the lab building, Jessica held up her coffee cup for a refill and sighed. Surveillance was not her favorite part of the job. Almost two days had passed with no sign of Roche, and it was still "business as usual" at the lab, as far as she could tell. She drank her coffee, wishing she had brought a flask so she could add a little kick to it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large black SUV approaching. It slowed and parked in the loading zone in front of the lab building. As soon as she saw Roche get out, she was on the phone to Matt and Danny.

Matt arrived within a few minutes, still in his business suit.

"Anything?" he asked, sitting down across from her and loosening his tie.

"Not since I called," Jessica replied. "He's been inside the whole time."

Matt turned his face away from the window, not wanting Roche to spot him when he came out. The waitress brought him coffee, and he drank it while they waited.

Danny joined them ten minutes later. "What's happening?" he asked.

Jessica shook her head. "Nothing so far. Keep away from the window, so Roche won't see you," she instructed him.

Jessica's coffee cup was almost empty again when she spotted Roche coming out of the building, carrying a large briefcase. "Here he comes," she whispered to Matt and Danny. Roche strode to the SUV, threw the briefcase onto the front passenger seat and climbed into the driver's seat. He started the engine, but by that time Jessica had run across the street to the rear of the vehicle, grabbed the bumper, and lifted up the rear end. As the rear wheels spun uselessly, Danny and Matt dragged Roche out of the SUV. Before Roche could resist, Matt started punching him, landing blow after blow, until Roche's face was battered and bloody, and Matt's knuckles were raw. "Enough," Danny finally said, pulling Matt off Roche. "He's not going anywhere." Roche slid down to the pavement and slumped against the side of the SUV.

Danny reached inside the SUV and turned off the engine. Only then did Jessica release her grip on the rear bumper. Danny turned to Matt, "You better leave. You can't be here when the cops arrive. Jess and I will handle them."

"He's right," Jessica said. "Get going."

Matt could hear sirens in the distance. He nodded and took off. He climbed to the roof of a nearby building and crouched there until the police arrived and took Roche into custody. The rage that had fueled his beating of Roche slowly dissipated. But he wouldn't soon forget the day when he took down the man who had changed his life forever.

Matt, Jessica, and Danny met at Jessica's office a week later. The two men pulled up chairs and sat across the desk from her.

Jessica spoke to Danny. "You called this meeting. You want to tell us what's going on?"

"I met with DA Tower yesterday," Danny replied. Matt raised his eyebrows. "Being the majority owner of Rand Enterprises does have some perks," Danny explained.

"Go on," Jessica prompted him, brushing her hair back.

"It looks like Roche was about to make a run for it. He had an itinerary for a flight to the Caymans in the briefcase, along with a pile of Rand's money. There were also a couple of flash drives. One had the 'Project 46' data, and the other had financial records. He'd been siphoning money from legitimate Rand accounts to fund the project for years – and keeping some for himself. The DA says they have plenty of evidence to put him away."

Matt nodded. "Good."

"There's one other thing," Danny added. "Tower said the flash drive with the project data had all sorts of crazy shit on it. It's like Roche was obsessed with creating superpowered people. I hate to think what would've happened if he'd gotten his hands on you two."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Matt shook his head. "Jesus."

"So – is Matt in the clear?" Jessica asked.

"Don't worry, I kept Matt out of it," Danny replied. "And the cops think Roche's off his rocker, anyway. It's not just the stuff on the flash drive. Apparently he's been claiming that a blind lawyer with superpowers – powers that he created – beat him up before the cops arrived."

Matt smiled crookedly. "It does sound kinda crazy, doesn't it?" Then he turned serious. "What about Don Porter?" he asked.

Danny shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, but Tower says the ME has ruled his death was a suicide, and they don't have evidence it was anything else."

"Goddammit," Matt said. He slammed his hand on the desk, then stalked across the room to the window. He stood there with his back to them and his head down, swearing under his breath.

Matt was in the gallery every day during Roche's trial. Jessica joined him on the afternoon when the jury returned its verdicts finding Roche guilty on multiple counts of embezzlement and tax evasion. After court adjourned, they found a bar a few blocks from the downtown courthouse. Once the bartender had poured their drinks, Jessica turned to Matt, "Why so gloomy, counselor? Roche is going away for a long time."

Matt nodded. "I know." He swirled the Scotch in his glass, then set it down on the bar. "But he'll never really pay, not for everything he's done. Men like him never do. And to them, people like Don Porter, like me, we're just collateral damage."