Silvio Manfredi was a gentile old man in his late 60s. Droopy-faced, balding, with a double chin, and silver gray hair that made him look like a relative of Phil Leotardo. It was no wonder that Ben's nickname for him was "Silvermane". However, his grandfatherly appearance was very deceiving, as it was possible for one to forget that he used to be an underboss to Don Rigoletto, who had a stronghold over organized crime in Hell's Kitchen in the decades before Wilson Fisk and the Hand came along. In spite of the violent things he'd done, he also was a valuable informant for Ben, supplying the grizzled reporter with tips that allowed him to write hard-hitting pieces about the mafia's far and wide reach within the city. Currently, he was married to a gorgeous woman 13 years his junior named Miriam, with whom he'd had two daughters, both of whom were currently attending colleges in Florida.
Of the mafiosos who were heavily active in Hell's Kitchen during the 1970s up through the 1990s, Silvio was the only one who was still breathing, alive, and free, having chosen to retire peacefully after he got out of prison in 2010. Everyone else was either missing, presumed dead, confirmed to be dead, or were locked up in prison. Karen was aware from what she and Ben had learned from Marlene Vistain at the nursing home that Fisk had been involved with Rigoletto back in the day. More importantly, when Fisk killed his father, she helped him cover it up and they convinced everyone around that he'd been killed on orders of Rigoletto. Since Rigoletto was dead as well, Matt had an inkling that Silvio, as a surviving underboss of the former Mafia don, might have information as to how Fisk built his criminal empire, how he came to know James Wesley, and how he became acquainted with the Russians and the Hand.
Matt and Karen decided that they did not want the meeting to take place at their apartment, at the Bulletin offices, or at Silvio's brownstone on the Lower East Side, figuring that Fisk might have people watching those places. Instead, they arranged over the phone to have the meeting that afternoon at a Harlem diner. Karen figured that the meeting would double as an opportunity for her and Matt to grab a late afternoon snack. Matt especially, since he was the one who'd just narrowly survived being murdered in a prison riot.
Business was slow at the A-Train Diner at 145th Street and St. Nicholas Avenue that Wednesday afternoon when Matt and Karen walked in. There were only a few other customers inside. They seated themselves at a booth with a view towards the door so they could wave their interviewee over when he showed up, and positioned such that a sniper wouldn't be able to get any of them.
Their waitress was a young Hispanic woman named Xochil, and she had dark black hair tied back in a long French braid. She also showed interest in the handsome blind man seated in her section.
"Let me know if you folks need anything," she said after introducing herself and taking their orders. Matt settled for a coffee, which Karen also went for. "I'll be back in a flash."
Her gaze lingered on Matt as she spoke, ostensibly at the bandage on his forehead. He gave her an easy, charming smile.
"Walked into a doorway," Matt said, answering her unspoken question. His tone was far more jovial than it had been since he'd first shown up in Karen's office.
Karen raised her eyebrows at him as the waitress walked away. Although Matt seemed outwardly calm and at peace, she could still hear it in his voice that he was incredibly nervous. In turn, he could tell that despite her best efforts to put on a poker face, she was very scared. It still sucked that their reunion had had to be as a result of Fisk getting out of prison. But Matt knew that as much as he hated Fisk, Karen had had it much worse than him. Fisk had tried to frame her for murder, he'd sent multiple people to attack her on three occasions, and she'd killed James Wesley. On top of all that, she'd been very close to Ben. Matt and Foggy had never been able to convince her that Ben's death was not her fault. In light of the new information Karen had revealed to him last night, Matt realized she probably saw Ben as a better father figure to her than her real dad. No wonder she had taken his death so badly. And now both of them were dealing with the fact that Fisk knew Matt was the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, or at the very least, knew that he had heightened senses. Which meant he now had leverage he could use against them to impede their investigation.
Matt didn't like that Karen was afraid, given how fearless he knew she could be at times, but part of him was glad she understood the weight of the situation. She should be afraid of what Fisk might do. He wasn't the kind of person one could just intimidate with a beating or two.
"Are you sure you're okay, Karen?" he said, concerned, as they began sipping at their coffees.
Karen took a deep breath. "Yeah," she exhaled, taking a big sip. "I guess... Matt, I'm sorry. This whole... thing with Fisk is making me jumpy. I dunno. I keep tensing up every time I hear footsteps behind me... or on the train. When we're walking outside, I have no idea who may or may not be spying on us. I..."
Matt reached across the table and squeezed her hand, reassuringly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know it's hard on you. That's why I wanted to team up with you. He's after you, and me. I wish I could tell you that there's no reason for you to start looking over your shoulder..." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Karen."
Karen took another breath. While she liked that she and Matt were working together here to bring down Fisk, she felt like there was something missing from their dynamic: she was not a very talented fighter. True, she'd learned some basic self-defense moves in the years after she left Fagan Corners, but she didn't feel like it would be enough, especially with Fisk having so many hired lackeys to do his dirty work for him. "I'd like you to teach me some of your moves," she said.
Matt raised an eyebrow and his lips curled up into a smirk. "You really want to be a martial artist, Karen?"
Somehow, Karen found that funny, and she ended up laughing. "Not exactly backflips and acrobatics. I know you've practiced that stuff for years, and probably it would take at least a year to learn half of what Stick taught you. I just…I feel like there's got to be something you can show me that might give me a better chance if Fisk decides to... send his goons after me." She shuddered, remembering the guard that tried to kill her in jail.
Matt slowly nodded his head in agreement. As much as he knew Karen loved insisting she could take care of herself, it hurt him a bit to hear her admit for once she wasn't sure whether she could handle what was to lie ahead. "Sure," he said. "When do you want to start?"
"Soon. Like, 'tomorrow' soon," she answered.
"Okay."
"Given how things are these days, having an overprotective vigilante is probably the best thing for me."
"You have two who look out for you," Matt replied, "Me and Frank Castle."
"I know that," she said, smiling faintly, "But Frank is out of town. I haven't seen him since the Roosevelt."
It was about then that the diner's front door opened and Karen saw their target, Silvio Manfredi, come in.
"Ah, he's coming," Karen said, seeing their target come through the door. She got up and waved Silvio over to the booth.
"Hey Silvio," she said.
"You mind telling me why we're doing this up here, Miss Page? You couldn't come out to the Lower East Side?" he asked.
"Sorry I had to drag you all the way uptown for this," Karen said apologetically, "But I wanted to meet on neutral territory and I thought my office would be too problematic."
"Anything for Ben Urich's young protégé," he said, a small smile forming on his wrinkled old face.
"I think she prefers not to be seen as that," Matt spoke up.
Silvio's attention turned to Matt, who remained sitting at his seat in the booth.
"We haven't actually properly met, have we?" Matt stood up and turned to face Silvio.
"Matt Murdock," Matt said. "I'm Miss Page's…boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" Silvio held his hand out to shake. Matt offered his hand just a few inches left of where he should, and Silvio quickly adjusted to meet him there. "Well, she certainly has good tastes."
"Definitely," Karen said, dreamily.
They sat down in the booth, Matt and Karen on one side, and Silvio on the opposite side.
"So…what's the big scoop?" Silvio asked.
"You used to work for Don Rigoletto, is that correct?" Karen asked.
"Yeah I did," he answered, "I was one of his most trusted advisors."
"Mm-hmm," Karen said, fidgeting with her spoon, "And what can you tell us about Wilson Fisk?"
Silvio's eyes went wide at the mention of Fisk's name. Karen thought she could see a bead of perspiration forming on his brow, and Matt heard his heartrate accelerate.
"I...I can't…"
"You don't have to say anything," Matt said. "You know something about Fisk. Your heartrate tells me that."
"W-what?"
"Does he have leverage over you?" Matt asked.
Silvio took a deep breath. "If you think you're going to somehow take down Fisk with what I know, don't." There was an air of authority to his statement. "Ben already tried."
"Please," Karen said through clenched teeth. "Silvio, you were his friend." She felt her voice break. "Ben was a good a friend to you, and to me. And right now, the man who killed him is being held in a luxury penthouse on the taxpayer's dime, being catered to by the FBI. That can't possibly sit right with you, does it?"
Silvio had nothing to say to that.
"Fisk tried to have me killed twice," she pleaded, "He threatened my friends, people that matter to me, to try to get me to back off. We want him locked up again. And I know you probably want him locked up too. But we can't do that unless you help us."
Silvio sighed. "I can't tell you."
"Why not?" Karen asked, sharply.
Silvio's mouth hardened into a grim line. "Fisk told me that if I talked to anyone in the police or the press about the shit that I know, he'd kill my wife and my kids. If you know anything about him, you know that he does not make idle threats. Ever."
"Fisk threatened to have your family killed?" Matt said. "That's nothing unusual." He remembered that that was the sort of thing that James Wesley was known for doing. Fisk would never have visited Silvio personally to threaten him. He saw a potential line of exploration here: if Fisk's threats to Silvio were made after Wesley's death, maybe he'd give them the name of whoever Fisk had promoted to replace him. "Who did he send?"
Silvio glanced at Matt and regarded him with an expression of curiosity. After a moment of silence, he replied, "He sent a guy to visit me, right after Ben died."
"So…not James Wesley?" Matt observed.
Silvio shook his head. "Wesley was dead by that point. It was this older gentleman. Dapper British man."
"What was his name?"
Silvio shook his head again. "I didn't get his name. All I know is that he looks like an aged-up version of Daniel Craig. And that he said he spoke on behalf of Fisk."
Karen made a note in her notepad. A British man is one of Fisk's associates.
"What's Fisk's connection to Rigoletto?" Matt asked. "We uncovered some information in Ben's files that suggested he was a former subordinate to him."
Silvio caught Matt's gaze and then swallowed. "Fisk and Rigoletto went way back."
"How?" Karen started transcribing what Silvio was saying.
"His father was running for the City Council in 1972," Silvio explained, "And Bill Fisk, no bank was willing to provide him a loan to cover the costs of running his campaign. He had to use other channels to find someone willing to bankroll him."
"Why?" Karen asked. She didn't know much about loans, but it couldn't have been cheap to run for City Council, especially someone from working class Hell's Kitchen. From what little she and Ben had gotten out of Marlene when they'd visited her, it seemed like Bill Fisk was probably not the kind of customer that banks liked to tend to.
"He had no real collateral," Silvio said, "And the banks were not convinced he'd ever pay them back in a timely fashion."
"So, I'm assuming he went to a loan shark," Matt said.
Silvio nodded.
"He just nodded," Karen whispered to Matt.
"Was Rigoletto this loan shark?" he asked.
"Rigoletto floated him. He agreed to support Bill's campaign, on the condition that Bill would pay back the loan through kickbacks from city officials." Silvio sighed. "Unfortunately, he lost, but with the benefit of hindsight, we should've realized that wasn't really a surprise to anyone, not me, not Rigoletto."
"How?" Karen asked, trying to make sense of what Silvio was saying.
"The guy was a sore loser," Silvio said. "He beat Marlene and little Willie when he thought they weren't respecting him. Last time Bill was ever seen alive, he was seen forcing his son to beat up this teen named Bernie Walker who was knocking down some of his signs after the election."
That didn't make sense to Matt. Rigoletto had managed to be in power for decades before his prison sentence. What possessed him to willingly support someone with that kind of character? "So why would Rigoletto float a liability like that?" Matt asked.
"Rigoletto had hoped that with Bill on the City Council, he could get someone into the D.A.'s office to suppress all investigations into La Cosa Nostra. He was that gullible. But… " he shrugged. "…Rigoletto was human, and he just underestimated how much of a problem Bill would've been."
"What happened to Bill?" Karen said. While Marlene had suggested that only she and Wilson knew the truth about what happened to Bill Fisk, Karen had an inkling to think that there probably were a few other people who knew the truth.
"He killed him," Silvio answered, "Wilson beat him to death with a hammer."
Matt straightened up. "How did you find out about that?" he asked.
Silvio bit his lip. "When Bill went missing, the general consensus was that he left town to avoid being found by our people. We did not try too hard. Nobody really missed him."
"You didn't try talking to his wife?" Matt asked.
"This was the 1970s, Mr. Murdock. The Cosa Nostra had different policies in place at the time. One rule was we never leaned on the wives and kids of those who owed us debts."
"Right," Matt said, "I think his son changed that policy."
"How did Fisk become a member of the family?" Karen asked.
Silvio twirled his finger. "In 1974, he got recruited by Julius Carbone," he answered. "He was one of Rigoletto's lieutenants at the time, before he struck out and moved up to Harlem." Karen glanced at Matt. That's another one of the names in Ben's files. "Rigoletto found out about it, and he and I took little Wilson aside and asked him about his dad."
Wilson approached him. "What did he say?"
"He eventually told us everything," he answered. "We told him that we'd forgive him, owing to the circumstances and the nature of his father's character. With one condition: he would come to work personally for Rigoletto."
Matt looked as if he'd almost been expecting that. "What exactly did Fisk do in Rigoletto's employ?"
"He started at the bottom of the ladder and worked his way up," Silvio said, "Common sense when you think about it. For a while, he was low-level muscle, collecting protection money, bribing officials. As time went by, we began trusting him with more and more duties. By the time Rigoletto, Carbone and I got put away, he had enough authority within the organization to start calling the shots."
"And I guess he took over when you and Rigoletto were put away."
"Pretty much. Rigoletto ran things from jail," Silvio said. "Fisk stayed on the outside, and he served as the unofficial street boss."
Karen was a bit wary of this. There had been virtually nothing on Fisk prior to his big press conference on the steps of City Hall. Even with his ability to make things disappear into black holes, it seemed a stretch that he could hold that much power without a paper trail.
"How was Fisk able to stay under the radar?" she asked. "Before that whole speech of his at City Hall, we had almost nothing on him. No social media, no mentions in articles or on websites, not even a fucking photograph."
"There's an awful lot you can do when you have half the city on your payroll," Silvio answered, half-heartedly. He chuckled. "You can do things like erase all evidence of your existence. Or you can bolster new relationships with the Chinese, the Japanese, and the Russians. Actually helps that he'd already recruited Wesley by the time I went away, which made things easier."
Matt turned in Karen's direction. Clearly, the Hand's alliance with Fisk had nothing to do with Rigoletto's death. After a moment's hesitation, Karen reached into her bag and grabbed a crime scene photo of Rigoletto's remains.
"Rigoletto was killed a little over three years ago," Karen said, "Not too long after he got out. There were a bunch of other mafiosos who were killed around the same time. Carbone. Signor Mazzuchelli."
Silvio's breath hitched as he observed the photo Karen presented to him. It couldn't have been easy, having to look at the dismembered remains of someone so close to you.
"Was Fisk responsible for any of these?" she asked.
Silvio returned the photo to Karen.
"He was..." He swallowed a lump of bile. "...He responsible for Rigoletto's death, that's for certain. I heard Carbone fell in front of a train...or something. No idea where Mazzuchelli went."
"What exactly could get Fisk to kill the boss who took him in?" Matt asked.
Silvio bit his tongue. "I will save you time by saying that Fisk and Rigoletto did not see eye to eye with one another and they could get a little unruly at times. You know how it is with families."
Karen and Matt stared at him.
"My understanding," Silvio said, clearing his throat, "Ahem. My understanding, from what little I saw, is that Rigoletto did not approve of the new business partners Fisk made while we were on the inside. He didn't trust the Chinese leader, uh, Madame Gao or something. Nor did he trust the Yakuza's representative, a figure named Nobu. He said they gave him the creeps and he was convinced that they were using him for malicious purposes."
They were members of the Hand. They needed him to get Midland Circle. Matt could buy that Rigoletto probably would be skeptical of Fisk's choice of new partners, even if he was unaware of their mystical nature.
Karen frowned. Fisk tended to kill loose ends. She'd seen it with Rance, with Detective Blake, the junkie he'd hired to kill Mrs. Cardenas, and he'd tried to do it with her. He wouldn't leave such a big loose end alive unless they had something he wanted. "So he killed Rigoletto, and threatened you into retiring. Why?"
"He had a bit of a soft spot for me," Silvio shrugged, "I rewarded him with zuppa inglese from this pastry place on 53rd Street on weeks where he did a lot of hard work during his teenage years. I guess he felt indebted to me for that."
It was about then that the diner's front door opened and a trio of men entered the diner. Matt stiffened up as they began walking in the direction of the booth where he, Karen and Silvio were seated. These men, their heart rates were spiking, and he could smell gun oil emanating off the skin of their leather jackets. One of them had a familiar smelling cologne on him. Matt paused as he realized that this was one of the surviving men from the Kazemi attack that he'd goaded into attacking him with a metal pipe. Karen looked up at the men. One of them was a Latino male wearing wearing a newsboy cap and a black leather jacket, whom she recognized as Dennis Munoz. The second was a white guy in his twenties with strawberry blond hair and a tan leather jacket, and a missing middle finger, whom she recognized as Casey Williamson. The third was a black male who kinda resembled Diamondback but not entirely, and whom she realized was Arthur Brown. Brown was reaching for a shoulder holster hidden in his jacket. Karen's eyes widened and she reached into her purse for her gun.
In an instant, without caring that he wasn't masked, Matt got up to his feet and greeted Brown with a sucker punch to the left side of the face. Brown staggered backwards, letting go of his gun. He took a swing at Matt, who ducked and countered with a cross to the opposite side of the face. He then fell to the floor, wheezing.
Almost immediately, Munoz and Williamson launched an attack on Matt, right there in the middle of the seating area. Both of them were larger than him, but clearly not trained in any sort of fighting beyond basic brawling. Fisk's hiring standards really have taken a plunge. As Karen and Silvio watched, she studied Matt's fighting moves. He didn't really care that there were two other patrons in the diner. He didn't care if he was unmasked; he had to try to stop the men who were trying to kill their witness. He lashed out at his attackers with a calculated precision, ensuring that each of his blows was as painful as possible. As Karen watched him heel-kick Munoz into a table, hard enough knock Munoz's hat off, part of her questioned whether it would be a good idea to let Matt teach her self-defense, something she shook away very quickly.
The fight dragged on. Matt leapt onto an unoccupied table and used it to propel himself into a flying kick that knocked out Williamson. There was a loud crack as the guy's head struck another chair.
As soon as Williamson was down, Karen saw Matt grab Munoz by the throat hard enough to lift him clean off his feet, and then slammed him into the marble floor near the front doors. He crawled on top of Munoz, pinning him in place with his right knee on his chest, and delivering him a swift sucker punch to the nose, fracturing it. Munoz tried to scream in agonizing pain, but with the wind knocked out of him, it sounded more like wheezing. He was also bleeding quite profusely from where his nose had been broken.
Satisfied that Munoz wouldn't be able to fight any more, Matt grabbed his right arm in a tight hold and twisted it as far he could go without breaking the bones. With his other hand, he grabbed Munoz by the hair, and lifted his head up.
"Who are you working for? Who sent you?!" he growled.
Munoz spit out blood. "You think I'm afraid of you, diablo?"
Karen and Silvio got up from the booth and walked across the dining room to Matt. She stood right over the neutralized Munoz's legs, and took her gun out, letting it hang by her side.
Matt slammed Munoz's head back against the ground. In the sudden quiet, Karen's breath catched in her chest at the sound and the appearance of a dark smear of blood on the tile. She nonetheless composed herself.
"Talk, asshole," Karen snarled, "Who do you work for?!"
Munoz stammered. Matt reached out with his hand and grabbed him by the throat.
"I can't…" he said, choking.
"Who is it?!" Matt's voice now had a rough, hoarse sound to it.
Munoz clawed at Matt's tight grip with his hands. Karen pulled back the hammer on her gun.
"Maa—Manning!" Munoz choked out, "Felix Manning!"
Matt seemed to suddenly snap out of whatever state he had been in, releasing Munoz abruptly and standing up. He tilted his head, and Karen knew he was listening to Munoz's heartbeat to decide if he liked his answers or not.
"Who else is…Felix working with?"
"I don't know," Munoz said, breathing heavily. Matt delivered a swift cross to the man's chin. Karen gasped as Munoz coughed up more blood.
"Try again."
"I don't know," he repeated.
Matt gripped his hair, unconvinced, and prepared to slam his head against the floor another time. Not wanting any more brain damage, Munoz hurriedly continued, "I barely know him! He's just this old English fart who hires me to do jobs for his employer."
"Who is Mr. Manning's employer?"
"He's very cryptic! All he says is that he speaks for some cat in Riker's!"
Meaning Fisk. He's being careful to insulate himself from the illegal activities of the streets. "And what has he tasked you to do?" Matt asked, not ready to let go of him. The mention of Rikers convinced him that Fisk had kept these three assassins alive for the purposes of killing Silvio.
" He—he's telling me his employer has this old Mafia G pal who knew him back in the day who knows things he wants to have buried, and we need to take him out."
Karen narrowed her eyes at the bleeding man. Matt narrowed his eyes, too, not that meant anything, owing to his blindness.
"So he paid you to do…what, shoot him in a diner in front of a bunch of witnesses?"
"Pretty much," Munoz said, "Boss says he wants it to be very public, with lots of eyes watching. Lot of noise."
"Why now?" Karen asked, getting ahead of herself. She turned to Silvio, and caught his gaze. His skin had gone a little pale, too.
Munoz shifted his gaze to Karen for a moment, then shifted back to Matt again.
Matt tightened his hold on Munoz's right arm, and he grimaced in pain.
It was Silvio's turn to speak. "I think you should answer the lady's questions."
Munoz shifted his head to Silvio. "He wants you, Signor," he ground out, "He wants dead everyone who knows about a certain incident that happened in 1972."
Karen's eyes widened. Silvio's eyes widened a bit too. They all knew what he wasn't saying: Fisk wanted Silvio dead because he was cleaning out people who could spill the beans on things he did for Rigoletto, and who also knew about how he bludgeoned his father to death with a hammer.
"Anything else?" Matt asked.
"I dunno. That's all he told me, I swear. An incident that went down in 1972, nothing else."
Karen gripped the gun in her hand harder. She could see Matt's broad shoulders rising and falling slowly, a telltale red flag that he was about to let the devil out. She'd seen it in the parking garage when he was overpowering the FBI agents who'd come to Donovan's rescue. Unfortunately, his captor was a little slow to pick up.
"We were just supposed to pop Manfredi. In and out in 30 seconds tops. Supposed to be as easy as Kazemi. Didn't know the old man had company-"
Matt delivered a jab to Munoz's chest, cracking one of his ribs. That's for Rostam Kazemi.
"Where is Felix Manning?"
"I don't know. I'm just muscle." Matt roughly twisted the man's arm even more, dislocating it. "All right-all right-all right! You want him, the vacant lot on 44th and 11th, 9:00 pm!" There was another pause as Matt determined if the man was lying. He wasn't. He found the address strange: that was the lot where Midland Circle had been located. And where Elena Cardenas's tenement building had been located prior to that. Unfortunately, he never got to ask any more questions, because he suddenly heard a telltale sound. His fingers twitched. It was the sound of an assault rifle's safety being unlocked. Oh shit. Fisk planned ahead accordingly. There's more guys outside… He remembered how things had happened at the courthouse when Reyes was killed.
"Get down!" he shouted to Karen and to the patrons, who had been watching this whole interrogation like it was surprise entertainment. Without hesitating, he let go of Munoz. No sooner had he done that than he'd thrown himself onto Karen and tackled her to the ground as the first bullets tore through the windows. They landed in a heap, and Matt clapped his hands over Karen's ears to drown out the noise. After about ten seconds listening to the sound of glass breaking and wood splintering, the gunfire subsided, just as quickly as it had started, and all that was left was a disturbing silence.
The only sound Matt could hear was the ringing vibrations in his ears from the automatic gunfire, which made him nearly miss the smell of burning rubber and sound of screeching tires as a car sped away. Fisk must have had an additional pair of gunmen on hand as backup in case the men inside the diner failed to complete their job. He and Karen both got up slowly, and Karen peeked back at the main seating area. Patrons and waiters who had taken cover when the shooting started were beginning to cautiously emerge from their hiding spots to see what was going on. Karen could hear the sound of police sirens in the distance, getting louder and louder.
As she scanned their surroundings, she noticed Matt "staring" in the general direction of what was lying a few feet away from them. There was Silvio Manfredi on the floor. His eyes were wide-open and unblinking. And there were several bloody bullet holes riddling his chest.
Damn it! There goes another potential witness who could speak out against Fisk! And he has the perfect alibi! It was a brutal, bloody sight, one that Karen would never forget, no more so than when this had happened in Reyes' office, or that time Frank shielded her as the Blacksmith's men tried to shoot at her in her apartment. Hearing the sound of groaning, she noticed that Munoz had also caught a bullet in the leg, unable to get out of the way when the shooting began.
Someone screamed, and the horror moved like a breeze through the room, even among people who had yet to see the body. Karen supposed that the scream was enough, or on some instinctive level, they picked up the iron ore scent of freshly spilled blood.
Not that Karen really cared much about that. Fisk is going to pay for what he's done. "Fuck you, Fisk..."
"He can't keep doing this!"
Matt and Karen were still standing there, on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, observing the action going on around them. The entire block and the nearby intersection had been cordoned off with crime scene tape. The streets were clogged with NYPD cruisers from the 29th Precinct, ambulances, a fire engine, and the forensics unit. Karen could see bystanders on the other side of the crime scene tape recording videos on their phones as the henchmen Matt had fought beforehand were brought out on stretchers. The Crime Scene Unit was crawling all over the diner, photographing the blood stains from where Matt had interrogated Munoz, as well as Silvio's body.
Karen felt sickened. She just wanted a break from the ever-present specter of violent deaths that seemed to follow her around. Her brother. Daniel Fisher. Elena Cardenas. Ben Urich. Samantha Reyes. Colonel Schoonover. Lewis Wilson. Brett once said to her, "Is there any shit show you're not a part of?" after Matt had rescued her and the other hostages that the Hand had used as part of their trap a year ago, and if she were being honest, he was right. She wondered if she was becoming the next Jessica Fletcher. Violent deaths always seemed to follow that old biddy around wherever she went. Karen suspected if she ever tried to go back to Fagan Corners, she'd turn the town into the next Cabot Cove.
Matt for his part was also outraged. Just when he thought Fisk couldn't sink to any new lows, like the prison riot that morning, he always found new ways to one-up Matt, and shooting up a diner in Harlem as part of a gang hit on a former associate of his fit that bill.
"It was brilliant." Matt hated to admit that. "Now we've got Silvio Manfredi dead and nobody who can actually directly testify to Fisk's background with Rigoletto. No Silvio that we can deliver to Blake Tower."
"He's cleaning house," Karen muttered. "Just like with the other Kazemi kidnappers."
Matt sighed. He tried to think of the positives. The information Silvio had given them about Rigoletto wouldn't be usable in court without Silvio alive to testify about it, but Karen would be able to use it for an article if possible. Munoz was only slightly better. He'd confirmed that he was another one of the participants in the attempted kidnapping of Rostam Kazemi. But more importantly, he had given them the name of the middleman Fisk had used to hire him: Felix Manning. That he was, as Munoz put it, an "old English fart" wasn't a very helpful description for sighted people, but it sufficed to Matt. Knowing his accent would help make it easy for Matt to single him out in a crowd. Even better, Munoz had told them where exactly they could find him. Tonight, he was going to be visiting the lot that used to be occupied by Midland Circle Financial.
As Matt and Karen stood there in silence, Matt tried to think of reasons why one of Fisk's goons was going to be going to Midland Circle. One possible theory he had was that Fisk intended to buy the property back and build something new there. Maybe some stupid rich condos that nobody could afford, like he'd originally suspected had been going on when they first took Elena's tenancy dispute. From what he had learned from Karen last night while they were going over what they knew on Fisk, that lot had sat vacant ever since the building collapsed, and had been paved over, sealing up the giant hole that the Hand had dug in the middle of the property. Given Hell's Kitchen's constant state of regentrification ever since the Incident, and what Fisk had been doing with Union Allied and other ventures, it would make sense for him to pick up his rebuilding plans for Hell's Kitchen like they'd never even been stopped.
There was another possible theory as to what Fisk's henchman would be doing there: he was setting up a meeting with another crimelord. Matt understood that the criminals of Hell's Kitchen always liked to hold their secret meetings in empty warehouses, deserted parking garages, or in vacant lots, ones where there wouldn't be many prying eyes to observe them. It would be a perfect place for him to have a meeting with the leader of another criminal organization. This theory made just as much sense: with most of Fisk's old associates dead or locked up, he was going to need new business partners. New partners. Ones he can dispose of when he no longer sees a need for them. Matt stiffened up as he remembered something Karen had said the previous morning before they went to the Presidential Hotel.
"Didn't you say yesterday morning that you were considering writing an article about Fisk's tendency to dispose of his business partners, Karen?" he asked.
Karen stared at him. She felt her heart skip a beat as she realized what he was referring to. "I was just hypothesizing, Matt," she admitted. "What are you getting at?"
"Because that guy inside, he said that Felix Manning is going to be at Midland Circle tonight," he explained, "I can think of one possible reason why he might be going there."
"Which is?" Karen said, staring at him.
"Well," Matt said, steadying himself, "Now that Fisk is out, he must be looking for new associates Since he's under house arrest and 24/7 surveillance by the FBI, he's probably relying on others to speak for him. Kinda like Wesley did. He may be insulated from the streets being cooped up in the Presidential, but these people under him, and potential business partners, they're probably not as good at covering themselves."
"What, we get another Hoffman?" Karen asked, in disbelief. "'Cause that clearly wasn't enough to hold Fisk."
Matt held up his hand. "I think if I spy on this meeting, we can find out just who Fisk is negotiating with. Once we find that out, we present them with evidence that they're getting a raw deal going into business with him."
"Turn the criminals against Fisk," Karen mused.
"Fisk already has a reputation for killing his partners, okay?" Matt said, "Look what he did with the Russians. With Nobu. When he no longer had a need for them, he arranged for them to be taken out. These other crews have got to know that if they make any deals with Fisk, sooner or later he's gonna hang them out to dry. And if they think Fisk is going to discard them, maybe self-preservation will trump greed and they'll fight to not end up like Rigoletto. Or Anatoly. Or Vladimir. Or...Silvio here."
"Start a war between Fisk and another gang?" Karen asked, skeptical. "You really want to do that?" She remembered what had happened here in Harlem just a few months ago in the Stokes-Stylers gang war. Severed heads on pikes. A stockbroker's head in a fish tank. A restaurant of innocent Jamaicans in Crown Heights gunned down for being in the wrong place at the wrong time when Mariah Dillard killed some Stylers associates. Gangbangers shooting it out on the corners. That wasn't the only recent gang war Karen was familiar with. She remembered how Frank's attacks on the Irish and the Dogs of Hell had made some gangs desperate enough that they were settling scores on the emergency room floor, one of which Foggy had had to defuse. She wasn't too fond of the idea of Matt orchestrating something that was bound to get innocents caught in the crossfire.
"I'm thinking of giving Fisk a taste of his own medicine," he said, defensively, "He tried to pin Anatoly's death on me to keep me and Vladimir distracted while he was setting the bombs. And he pitted me against Nobu in the hopes that we'd take each other out, leaving his hands clean. I think the best way to fight Fisk is to think like him."
Karen paused, dwelling on the idea. What Matt had proposed would be a long shot. But like she'd once told Ben, she liked the long shots. "I don't give a shit what happens to Fisk," she finally said, her voice hollow, "As long as he's gone." She shuddered. "I won't feel safe until then."
"You'll be safe with me, Karen," Matt said, putting his hand on her.
Their thoughts were interrupted as Karen saw a familiar Afro-American woman with black jeans, a black coat and a metallic arm. Matt cringed as he recognized her heartbeat it was Detective Misty Knight. She was the detective who had been handling the NYPD investigation into the Hand, the one who had agreed to shelter Karen, Foggy, Trish, Claire, Colleen, Malcolm in the precinct when the Hand began targeting them. Matt remembered Foggy something about Misty being injured during the incident at Midland Circle, and that was apparent as he could sense that her right arm was now entirely a prosthetic, from just above the elbow.
Karen felt a little anxious. She knew from her coverage on the Bulletin's police beat that Misty had been involved in the takedown of the Stokes-Dillard gang with assistance from Luke Cage. And she also worried she was high on Misty's enemies list. When Mariah Dillard had massacred that Jamaican restaurant in Brooklyn two months ago, Karen had gotten a tip from one of the detectives at the scene that someone had survived the shooting. Despite her efforts to keep a lid on the tip, someone had overheard her discussing the tip with Ellison and spread the word out to other people in the media, including a reporter that asked Misty about it during a press conference.
From the look Misty gave when she walked up to them, she looked like she saw a ghost at the moment she recognized Matt. "Back from the dead, Mr. Murdock?" she said. "Or should I call you Daredevil?"
Matt winced. So there was yet another person who had found out the truth about his secret identity, and an NYPD officer. At this rate, I'm soon going to have a full page of names of people who know who the man in the mask is. He decided not to mention that bit, not while they were visibly in public and within earshot of others. "Detective Knight," he answered, "Nice to meet you again. Although I wish we were meeting under more ideal circumstances."
Misty turned her attention to Karen. "I'm pretty sure that reporters are supposed to be writing the stories, not making them, Miss Page."
Karen scoffed. "Yeah well I'm Angela Lansbury, Detective, I think you would know that by now."
"Whatever," Misty replied. She turned to Matt. "And how the hell are you even alive? You were crushed under a 40 story building and yet here you are, walking around like nothing happened."
"It's a long story," Matt said, shifting on his feet. He motioned in the general direction of her right arm prosthetic. "New limb there?"
Misty glanced at her robotic right arm. "Danny and Colleen hooked me up with this."
"Seriously, it looks pretty good," Karen said. She'd seen a fair number of prosthetic limbs before, but nothing so advanced it looked like it could've been salvaged from one of Tony Stark's iron suits.
"I'm told it's like a Maserati with fingers," Misty replied, sheepishly.
Despite his best efforts to remain stoic, Matt couldn't help but laugh a little, as could Karen.
"Listen, you do understand that I have to take statements from both of you," Misty said, grabbing an audio recorder from her pocket, "You two are the last people who spoke to Mr. Manfredi there." She motioned to the body inside, which was covered up by a sheet.
"Really," Matt repeated, "Do you really want me to describe the sounds, Detective?"
"Cut the shit. There's two witnesses who said that before the shots rang, the three men who just got taken to the hospital pulled guns on Mr. Manfredi and that you subdued them, Mr. Murdock," Misty replied. "Is that correct?"
Matt grimaced. He hadn't really thought about the fact that he'd fought those thugs without any sort of mask on him, meaning that there witnesses watching him, and frankly, he didn't care at that point. Those were armed guys working for Fisk and they were actively trying to kill someone.
"Pretty much," Matt replied.
"Can I ask what Mr. Manfredi said to you? Did he say anything about potential enemies seeking to kill you?"
Karen glanced at the sheet covering Silvio's body. "Well he was a high-ranking member of the Rigoletto crime family until he retired a couple years ago."
"Rigoletto," Misty said, like that name sounded familiar. "Why do I know that name?"
"He used to be an associate of Wilson Fisk," Matt said, "Mr. Manfredi met with us because we thought he had vital information about criminal activities that Fisk is currently engaged in."
"That bald-headed asshole in the Presidential Hotel?" Misty asked, revolting. Matt wasn't surprised by her reaction. Fisk was public enemy number 1 as far as the honest cops in the NYPD were concerned.
"That one, yeah," Karen nodded.
"He told us some interesting stuff about how back when Fisk's father ran for City Council, he borrowed money from Rigoletto," Matt said, "He also said that Fisk beat his father to death with a hammer. And that Rigoletto later took him under his wing and groomed him in exchange for his father's debts being forgiven."
"Also, he claims that Fisk ordered Rigoletto to be killed as a result of a power struggle a few years ago," Karen added.
"Did he say anything that could be usable in court?" Misty asked.
Matt shook his head. "At this point, it's my word and Karen's word against that of a dead guy," he replied. "And then the three injured guys came in. They were trying to kill Silvio. I managed to subdue all three of them and I got one of them to talk."
"What's he saying?"
"Not much," Matt said, "He said he was part of the Kazemi kidnapping that happened in Hell's Kitchen on Sunday, and he gave me the name of one of Fisk's intermediaries and said he will be at Midland Circle tonight."
"Do you want my help?" Misty asked. "Bringing him in?"
Matt shook his head. He and Karen were open to teaming up with people they already knew who had played some part in their first effort to take down Fisk, but not outsiders. That's why they were okay teaming up with Foggy, with Marci, and to an extent, even Brett. And even if they could get Felix Manning into NYPD custody, he didn't exactly trust Misty Knight with handling witnesses. He'd heard thirdhand that she'd lost a would-be witness against Mariah Dillard thanks to failing to secure her phone. And Mariah had had only maybe half the influence and power that Fisk had.
Although, that didn't rule out that someone like Misty could useful in other ways. Matt knew that the best way to find out what gangs Fisk might be reaching out to, beyond the meeting Felix was having tonight, would be to use contacts in the NYPD and ask them for tips on gang activity. Brett had Hell's Kitchen covered, but Matt and Karen really needed the help of a few cops from outside the 15th Precinct, since he had a suspicion that Fisk was looking to expand his turf beyond just Hell's Kitchen.
"I dunno, Detective," Matt said, wearily.
"It doesn't hurt to have allies on the force, Murdock," Misty insisted, trying not to sound offended, "I have CI's here. I know many of the players up in Harlem."
"Good," Karen replied, bluntly, "Who runs organized crime in Harlem at present?"
"There's a lot of new blood up here," Misty replied, massaging her temple, "Things have been really shaken up ever since Mariah died, but there are a few names who've been trying to make waves. I can give you them if you'd like. Might not amount to much down in Hell's Kitchen, but you never know."
"At least find me a name," Matt answered. He felt his braille watch to check the time. It had been a long morning and afternoon and he was very eager to get home, and maybe rest for a few hours. "We should get going, Karen."
Karen sighed, a little bit more dramatically than she intended. "You know where to find us if you need any more information from us, Detective." She grabbed Matt by the elbow and began guiding him towards the police perimeter, headed for the subway station.
Just as they reached the crime scene tape, Misty called out to them, "Hey!"
They both turned around to face her.
"How long exactly have you been back from being 'dead', Murdock?" Misty asked. She sounded more curious, than anything.
"For about two days now," Matt replied, confused. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, I was just wondering if you were ever going to get in touch with Luke while you were up here." There was a slight change in Misty's breathing, which convinced Matt that something was up with the hero of Harlem.
Matt frowned. Didn't Foggy say something about Luke acquiring a nightclub? He remembered that when he'd met Foggy and Marci at Josie's last night, Foggy mentioned that Luke had gotten into some legal troubles and he'd bought a nightclub that used to belong to Mariah Dillard. Is there more to it, though?
"Why do you ask?" he asked.
"Nothing's wrong, just…" Misty sighed. "You might consider touching base with him. He might appreciate you dropping by."
"What do you mean?" Matt inquired, concerned.
"Oh I don't know," she shrugged, "I just thought you superhero types always, y'know, had each other's number."
Matt laughed. "I wouldn't really say that that's what we are. We're not exactly like those guys downtown." He paused. He wondered where she'd figured out his second identity. "How did you learn? About...him?" He made "devil horns" with his fingers.
Misty shifted her feet. "Claire told me while I was in therapy. She's...very persuasive. She's actually working at the clinic at Mount Sinai, if you need her to patch you up."
Matt chuckled. "Not today. Maybe another time."
Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the sound of his regular phone ringing.
"Foggy. Foggy. Foggy." said the female voice that comprised his ringtone.
"Sorry, I gotta take this," Matt said. What is Foggy calling about? He find something on Fisk or does he need some backup on his campaign? He sighed and answered his phone. "Hey Foggy."
"Hey buddy," Foggy said. "Are you and Karen busy right now?"
Matt bit his tongue. "Uh, no, not at all," he lied, "Did you have something for me?"
"That double date I suggested we have last night," Foggy replied, "You and Karen, me and Marci. Are you still up for it?"
"Sure," Matt said, trying to sound casual and not like someone who'd just lost another witness to Fisk's henchmen. "Anything special going on?"
"I want to celebrate my first successful day of campaigning for District Attorney, silly! You and Karen should join in!"
Matt laughed. That's the Foggy I'm used to. "Uh, yeah, we're totally available," he replied. "Where and what time?"