Last chapter, poor Matt had just found Ben... On we go...

Chapter Three

Matt hadn't needed to call 911 if there was any indication by how quickly two policemen showed up. They were Fisk's men and they already knew Ben was dead. When they came upstairs, to save time, they'd already found the Super and brought him up to open the door so they didn't have to break it. They were completely unsurprised to find Ben's body on the floor.

Matt knew there wouldn't be anything left behind in Ben's apartment either. It had been swept clean by Fisk's people. Matt had no doubt all of Ben research was gone and all evidence of the killer was gone as well. He could still smell traces of the three person crew who'd done the work. Matt wasn't sure why they'd bothered. It wasn't like the police were going to actually look into the murder. He wasn't even sure they would have gone through the motions if he hadn't been standing there.

One of the officers took his name in a token effort to add the information to his report and then Matt was encouraged to leave. He was in their way and that, Matt supposed, was the one truthful thing they'd said.

Matt made his way downstairs and stood outside, unsure what to do next. He was so angry he could barely think. He wanted to go back upstairs and scream and punch and order the men to honor the oath they'd taken as policemen. He wanted to hunt Fisk down and kill him where he stood. The man was a murderer and Matt couldn't find any other way to stop him.

Matt pulled his phone from his pocket. "Call Foggy."

The phone rang and after a few seconds went to voicemail. Matt had no doubt Foggy had seen his name and rejected the call.

"Foggy, Ben's dead," Matt said without preamble. "I'm on my way to the office to tell Karen. You two knew him better and she'll… she'll want to talk to someone and… and you're better at that than I am, so… if you could… She'll need you… when you get this."

Matt ended the call, gritting his teeth. He hated this widening gulf between them, especially now, when they needed to stick together. Foggy had been his one constant in all these years and Matt felt adrift without him to anchor him to the rest of humanity.

Matt sighed and squared his shoulders. Karen. He needed to get to the office and tell her before she got the news some other way.

The office door was locked again when he got there. "Karen?" He knocked tentatively, half-hoping she was no longer there, or that she wouldn't hear him, or… something. He knew she was inside though. He could hear her heartbeat, smell her. She was pacing back and forth in front of her desk.

Karen jerked the door open, eager for news, but one look at him was enough. Karen backed away from the door until she bumped into her desk. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, the scent of tears suddenly heavy in the air.

"I'm sorry," Matt said quietly. "Someone got to him last night." Karen let out a quiet sob. "The… the police are there. I gu… I guess they will handle telling his family."

Karen made a groaning noise, a sound so filled with pain and loss and frustration that Matt had no notion of how to comfort her. He set his cane in the corner as he usually did and stepped toward her, still hesitating.

"I did this," she whispered under her breath. "I pushed him. I-"

Whatever else she was going to say was lost in another sob. Karen was still half-sitting on the edge of her desk. He moved closer and put his arms around her. She buried her face against his chest and wept. Matt didn't allow himself any such luxury. He remained calm, stoic in the face of her misery. This was his fault for not stopping Fisk already. He had no right to grieve.

"It's not your fault," he said quietly, over and over. "We'll find who did this. This isn't over."

They remained that way for long minutes until finally Karen began to calm. She pulled away, embarrassed at her breakdown and began wiping her face with her sleeves. He knew she was looking at him, unsure how to act. The lines blurring between boss and employee, co-conspirators, friends… It was all a bit messy and awkward. Normally, Matt relied on Foggy to help smooth these things over.

"Does Foggy know?" she asked, her thoughts probably following along the same lines.

"I had to leave a message," he answered.

"Maybe," she looked down, "maybe I should call." Matt could hear what she wasn't saying. It hurt to say out loud that Foggy would take her call, but not Matt's.

"Ok," was all he managed to get out.

Karen walked behind her desk, still brushing tears aside as she picked up her phone, but she needn't have bothered. They hadn't relocked the door and it burst open as Karen was dialing. It was a testament to how far Matt had crawled inside his own head that he hadn't heard Foggy coming down the hall. Matt chastised himself furiously for being so off his game. Ben was dead and it was his fault. That was no excuse for getting distracted. That was how more people got hurt.

Foggy stopped in the middle of the room. He was red-faced and out of breath. "What happened?" he demanded, his head swiveling back and forth between Karen and Matt.

"Last night," Karen began, a fresh set of tears appearing, "Ben was going to post his story online. He was supposed to let me know when it was posted, but he never did."

"He was going to post it online?" Foggy asked in confusion.

"He was fired yesterday," Matt explained.

"But-"

"It doesn't matter," Karen said, wiping at her runny nose. "They couldn't let the story get out. Firing him wasn't enough. They had to kill him to keep him from doing anything else. Nothing we do matters."

"Don't say that," Matt said quietly. "We're not done yet."

"Aren't we?" Karen shot back angrily. "Ben's dead, Matt, and we… I… did that. I tricked him into going to that nursing home… He didn't want to…"

Once again, she dissolved into tears and unlike Matt, Foggy didn't hesitate. He rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her. He hugged her close and rubbed her back to comfort her.

"What happened?" he asked again, more quietly this time, his eyes on Matt.

"I found him in his apartment this morning."

"You found him?"

He was clearly asking if Matt had found him or if his alter ego had.

"Karen was worried. She asked me to check his apartment," he replied evenly. "I called the police. He'd been…," he hesitated to say it, "he was strangled."

Foggy closed his eyes at the information and held tighter to Karen.

"I'm sorry," Matt said. "If I'd known…"

"You what?" Foggy spat angrily.

"If I'd known… I didn't know what he was going to do. I cou… I could have watched…" Matt felt perilously close to a repeat of the night before. He couldn't afford another breakdown. Stick was wrong about a lot of things, but not everything. Ben was dead and Matt couldn't let his emotions overwhelm him, not now.

"I think you've done enough," Foggy said through clenched teeth. The venom in his voice hurt as much as anything else. Matt knew he was angry and the shock of Ben's death would have only magnified his feelings.

"I should go." Matt turned his head away from them, as if that would help. He could still "see" them thanks to his senses. He never had the luxury of turning away from an unwanted sight. His senses still recreated the entire room in the aggregate, all plain as day for him to see, including Foggy's disdain and Karen's broken heart.

"What?" Karen turned in Foggy's arms. "Matt, wait."

Matt couldn't bear it any longer. He hurried toward his cane in the corner and opened the door. "Let me know… once you hear about the funeral arrangements," he said, and rushed out the door. He made no pretense of using his cane. He had to be fast. Karen was walking to the door to try to stop him and he had to leave. Instead of going downstairs as she would expect, he went up, up to the roof. From there, he could go almost anywhere in the city.

Tonight… tonight, he had an appointment with Francine Thomas of Silver & Brent. She was going to talk, whether she knew it or not.

More soon…