Earth-717: Daredevil Vol 1
Chapter 10: Paging Karen
"Maybe she's getting us donuts. I could sure use a donut right now."
"I don't think she's getting us donuts, Foggy."
Foggy huffed and threw up his hands.
"I'm trying to be an optimist, Matt! But, as always, you gotta go and bring me back down! I thought Catholics were supposed to be all about hope. What hope is there without donuts?"
Matt sighed as he and Foggy waited just outside of Jacob's holding cell in the courthouse. Foggy checked his watch again, even though he had checked it less than a minute ago.
"She say anything to you last night?" asked Foggy. "About going out, or I dunno, getting lost?"
"Foggy, I was here with you when we last saw her," answered Matt, even though he knew he was lying. "I haven't spoken to her since. I don't know where she would be."
"Maybe she didn't like being an unpaid intern."
"She's not an unpaid intern."
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
Foggy scratched the side of his head.
"Eh. Maybe she'll catch up. She knows she was supposed to be here. Probably not worth getting worried too much about it. She might just be hungover or something. Come on, we gotta talk to Jacob."
Matt nodded and followed Foggy into the room. Jacob was sitting at the table, waiting for them. Both attorneys sat across from their client, and they placed their files on the table.
"Where's Karen?" asked Jacob.
"She should be joining us shortly," said Matt. "We want to go over some things with you before we proceed with the next stage of the trial."
"Yeah, sure. Whatever you need."
Foggy pushed a handful of photographs in front of Jacob, who started looking them over.
"These are some of the evidence photographs from the apartments of both victims," said Foggy. "We want you to look them over for any points of comparison. Maybe point out anything we might have missed. Try to think of any information, anything at all that we can use that might help with our case strategy."
Jacob blinked and narrowed his eyes as he looked at one of the photographs.
"Hang on . . . ."
"Is there something you see?" asked Matt.
Jacob grabbed a photograph of Jennifer's bedroom with both hands.
"This isn't right."
Foggy glanced at Matt for a moment before looking forward again.
"What's not right?"
"This is Jennifer's room," said Jacob, shaking his head. "But something's wrong. Someone else must have been there."
Matt put his hands together.
"How do you know that?"
Jacob put the photograph back on the table and turned it around, pointing it at Foggy. He then placed one of his index fingers down just above the bed.
"Her bed is perfectly made."
Foggy pursed his lips.
"I don't see how . . . ."
"Guys, I dated Jennifer for almost a whole year. I knew her better than most. And one thing about Jenny? Girl never made her bed. Ever. Not even once."
Matt tilted his head slightly to the side as he considered Jacob's words.
"Someone else was in her apartment that night," said Matt. "You're saying that whoever did this, whoever killed her . . . . made her bed?"
Jacob shrugged.
"Can't say for sure, but I know she sure as hell didn't do it. Unless . . . ."
"Unless what?" asked Foggy.
Jacob looked down and started shuffling through the pictures again. He then found one of Stacy's bedroom, which also had a perfectly made bed.
"Stacy's bed . . . ."
"Is there some connection?" asked Matt.
"The night she died, Jenny mentioned at the party that she had ordered a new mattress. It's uh, from a store called Mack's Mattresses, and it's just next door to the place I work at. She said her mattress came in earlier that day. I don't remember all the details, but I thought I heard Stacy asking about it, cause she was looking for a new mattress too."
"Wait a minute," said Foggy, his eyes lighting up. "I remember something about that."
Foggy started rifling through another one of the case files. He pulled out an evidence report and quickly looked it over.
"Here. Records for a mattress purchase were found in Stacy Krisman's apartment. Looks like . . . . yeah, it was delivered the same day she died."
Foggy blinked as he placed the files on the desk.
"Holy crap," he said. "Both victims, on the day they died, received mattresses from the same place? What kind of coincidence is that?"
"Maybe it sounds crazy," said Jacob. "But I think there's gotta be some connection."
Matt sighed.
"Maybe, but it doesn't prove any . . . ."
Matt was interrupted by the sound of his cellphone vibrating in his pocket. He grumbled under his breath as he grabbed the phone.
"Might be Karen," he said.
Matt stood up and placed the phone next to his ear.
"Matt Murdock."
"Mister Murdock."
Matt had to stop himself from gasping when he recognized the voice of the figure. He would never forget the deep and modulated tone of the man who nearly killed him. He slowly turned back towards Foggy, who raised an eyebrow at him.
"Gimme a moment," said Matt.
Matt then left the room and walked around a corner before he resumed the conversation.
"Who is this?" asked Matt, knowing that he could not let the figure know that he actually recognized his voice.
"Oh, I think you know, especially given the fact that you're serving as a defense attorney on the Jacob Griffin case. How is that proceeding, anyhow?"
"You. You're the killer."
"I thought a lawyer would know to only make accusations when he is certain he can prove them in court."
"How did you get this number? What do you want?"
The figure chuckled. Matt shivered in response.
"I got this number off of a business card. I found it in Karen Page's purse."
Matt's heart nearly stopped.
"Surprised, are you?" asked the figure. "Weren't you wondering why she didn't show up for work this morning?"
"You're lying."
"Am I?"
A second later, he could hear Karen panting in the background.
"Talk."
"Matt?! Matt, oh God, please, try to . . . .!"
"Karen?! Karen!"
"That's more than enough, I think," said the figure, with Karen's voice suddenly going silent. "Now that we all know the stakes . . . ."
"You listen to me, you son of a bitch," said Matt, as he started to pace back and forth. "If I find you, I swear to God, I will . . . ."
"What will you do? You're no hero. You're just a lawyer from Hell's Kitchen who probably won't even win his first case. Completely unremarkable. No, I'm calling you, Mister Murdock, because I suspect that you could get in touch with someone far more remarkable than yourself."
Matt scoffed.
"And who would that be?"
"Daredevil."
Matt cleared his throat.
"Daredevil? W-Why, why would I know Daredevil?"
"Last night, Karen Page was saved by Daredevil. I watched the entire incident, the same way I've watched him before. The way he moved and fought was different. He was more savage, more passionate. Clearly, he cares about Miss Page in some way. She denies it, of course, but I think he knows her personally, which means that there's a chance that you know him as well."
Matt tugged his collar.
"If I'm mistaken, I'll find him via some other means. But if you want there to be any chance of Miss Page getting out of this alive, you'll send Daredevil to meet me."
"And where are you?"
"Do you think I'm stupid? If I give you my location, you'll simply send the police. No. Tell Daredevil to go to the same place where we fought. The place where I bested him. There, he'll find instructions on where to find me. I suspect that his pride will ensure that he will attempt to take me down himself. And remember, Mister Murdock . . . . so long as you do as I say, and you do it fast, then you don't have to be afraid for Karen Page."
"You're gonna regret this."
"I don't think so. After all, we all do things for the women we care about, right?"
Matt sneered.
"Goodbye, Mister Murdock."
The line went dead. Matt fumed as he lowered the phone. He then shouted in anger before punching the wall with his free hand. As he ran his fingers through his hair, he heard the sound of another familiar voice behind him.
"Matt?"
Matt turned around. Dakota was walking towards him.
"Whoa, Matt, what's going on?"
"Dakota."
"Bad news?"
Matt shook his head.
"This really isn't the time."
"Look, whatever it is, I'll try my best to help you. Just talk to me."
"I can't . . . ."
"Can't what?"
Foggy stepped out into the hallway.
"What's this all about?" asked Foggy. "I heard you yelling."
"Guys, listen," said Matt. "I don't have time to explain everything. I don't even understand or even believe it all myself yet. But I have to go. Now."
"Go?" asked Foggy. "Where?"
"It's important, Foggy."
"More important than the trial? Matt, we have to be in court in a couple hours!"
"Just tell us what's going on," said Dakota.
"Foggy, you know I wouldn't do this if it wasn't important. I know I need to be here, but I also need to be somewhere else. You might have to take on today by yourself. I know you can do it. You're a great lawyer. I can't explain this all right now, but I promise, I will. You're just gonna have to trust me."
"Matt, you know I trust you, but . . . . what's going on?"
"Matt," said Dakota, clearly agitated at being ignored. "If you're in trouble, just tell me. I'm a cop. I'm trained to deal with this stuff. I can help you with whatever this is."
"I'm so sorry," said Matt. "But you can't. I have to go."
Matt then started running down the hallway, heading for the front entrance. Dakota looked at him in shock.
"Matt?! MATT!"
"Didn't even take his cane," said Foggy.
After a couple seconds, Dakota started running after Matt. Bursting through the front doors of the court house, she saw that Matt had already bounded down the stairs and started running across the busy street.
"MATT!"
Matt continued to ignore her as he made it to the other side of the street, barely avoiding being run over by a taxi. The driver angrily sounded his horn. Dakota headed for the street, but stopped when she saw Matt run into an alley. Shaking her head in disbelief, she then started to go over several things in her mind.
His incredible hearing. The wound on his chest. His reflexes. His ability to seemingly navigate an environment without any aid. And now, rushing off without being willing to tell even his closest friends where he was going.
Furrowing her brow, Dakota then ran towards her squad car.