** Chapter 1 **

As Matt Murdock stepped into the dank interview room, the aroma of mildew and sweat assaulted his nose as his "radar sense" made out the form of the young woman sitting at the table. The shape of her obviously Chinese features was something of a shock, given her very Irish name, but with the ease of long habit, he kept his surprise from showing in his expression.

"Ms. Clancy?" he asked, deliberately focusing on a point several inches above her head.

"Might you be my lawyer, sir?" she replied.

At least the voice matched the name, Matt thought. "Yes. My name is Matt Murdock. Your friend, Richard Grayson, indicated you were in need of a lawyer and thought I might be suitable. Is that acceptable to you?"

She nodded, but as usual, he had to pretend not to notice the action. He waited another few seconds.

"Ms. Clancy?"

"Oh! Oh, yes, Mr. Murdock! I'm sorry! Yes, that's acceptable to me," she stammered slightly in obvious embarrassment.

He sat down at the table across from her and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "All right. Now, I asked the arresting officer for the basics of the case when I got here, but why don't you tell me about your relationship with Munroe and what happened the last time you saw him."

"I first met David when I came to New York on spring break. He took me out to dinner, and we seemed to hit it off immediately."

Clancy continued her story. After she returned to Gotham City, Munroe made several trips to visit her, and eventually they began alternating between the two cities. Because of her heavy course load and his erratic schedule as a cop, they had not been able to see each other as much as they wanted, but Clancy hoped that once school was out, she could see more of him.

When her last final was over, she drove straight to New York and met David at his apartment -- he had arranged to be off work for the next two days. They made love most of the afternoon but finally left the apartment around five o'clock for an early supper. They had just sat down at one of their favorite restaurants when a blond-haired woman in her early thirties came up to David and began screaming at him.

"It took me a few minutes to figure out what she was saying, but then I realized she was claiming to be David's wife. She said she'd finally figured out why he was claiming to work so much overtime. Then she slapped him and stormed back out of the restaurant. David tried to convince me that she was some crazy woman, but I didn't believe him anymore. 'Twas the coffee pot, y'see."

"The coffee pot?" asked Matt, slightly confused.

"Well, that and some other things that had begun to bother me a bit. David always dressed well, but he never had very many clothes in his apartment. He was never home when I called, and he never really liked for me to call him at work. The coffee pot was the clincher. David was a coffee addict -- I never knew him to go for very long without a cup. But when I made coffee for him earlier that afternoon, the coffee pot and the coffee container were dusty. That made no sense."

"Unless he wasn't really living in that apartment."

"Right."

"So then what happened?"

"I'm afraid David and I had a bit of an argument of our own. Then I left him in the restaurant, walked back to my car, and drove back to Gotham."

"What time did you get back?"

"It was around eight o'clock, I guess, but I was too keyed up to stay in my apartment, so I went to the park for a walk. I finally got back around eleven o'clock or so. And before you ask, I'll tell you what I told the police -- as far as I know, there's no one that can verify any of that," she finished dejectedly.

"No one?"

"Nope. My apartment isn't fancy enough for those time-stamped security systems, and for once, none of my tenants needed anything from me until the next day. By that time of night, the park is pretty deserted, or if not, I doubt we could find anyone who could credibly say he saw me. Believe me, I've had a lot of time to try to think of someone."

"Okay. From what I've been told, the police can place you in Munroe's apartment, they have witnesses to your argument, they claim to have a witness that says you were seen leaving a bar with Munroe later that evening, and you can't establish that you were in Gotham City at the time of the murder. That's the bad news. On the other hand, they have no physical evidence that could place you in the apartment at the time of the murder and they have no murder weapon." He gave her another reassuring smile. "I'm not going to promise you it will be easy, Ms. Clancy, but I do have confidence that we can win."

He heard her breath catch slightly as she sighed. "Thank you, Mr. Murdock. I'll try to hold on to that."

He pulled out one of his cards and gave it to her. "I need to go now, but if you have any questions, or you need anything, please call me. If I'm not available, ask for Franklin Nelson -- he's my law partner. All right?"

"All right."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Mr. Murdock? Richard Grayson is here to see you," his secretary announced through the tinny speakers of the intercom.

"Show him in, please, Janice." Matt looked up, startled, as he detected two people in addition to Janice coming through the door. The young man was obviously Grayson; although Matt had subconsciously assumed he would be taller. The beautiful woman accompanying him was a surprise as well, as she rolled into his office in a wheelchair.

Once Janice left, Grayson walked over and held out his hand. "Mr. Murdock, I'm Dick Grayson, and this is my friend, Barbara Gordon."

Startled once again by the gesture, but appreciating Grayson's discretion in waiting until they were alone, Matt shook hands with them both. The two men sat down, and Barbara rolled next to Grayson.

"This may sound a little strange, but I want to compliment you on your building, Mr. Murdock," she said, in a pleasant soprano voice. "I sometimes have trouble getting around in office buildings, but not today."

Matt smiled. "One of my former secretaries was in a wheelchair, and she taught me a lot about what worked best. When we designed this building, I knew she would've had my head if we hadn't done it right." He leaned back in his chair. "So, what can I do for you, Mr. Grayson?"

"Please, call me Dick. We just came from visiting Clancy, and she said you had taken her case," Grayson replied. His voice was a pleasant baritone, and although he had something of an upper crust New York accent, there was an underlying layer of something more exotic. Interesting. "I wanted to offer whatever help I could -- and volunteer Babs for any help she could give." He turned toward his companion with a grin. "She's a research librarian and has been known to give the Gotham City PD a hand from time to time. I managed to persuade her to come help me."

"You mean you pouted at me and begged and bribed me to come help you," she smiled.

"It persuaded you, didn't it?"

She aimed a lazy swat at Grayson, who captured her hand and kissed it with easy familiarity. He continued, "Honestly, we just want to help. I'll admit, even though I expected it, I was still somewhat surprised you weren't able to arrange bail. How strong a case do you think the DA has?"

"The bail decision came down to Bridget's being from Gotham City and a judge's being up for re-election. Even though I offered to surrender her passport, the prosecution convinced the judge she was a flight risk. All of the evidence against Ms. Clancy is circumstantial -- they have no murder weapon, and nothing that can really tie her to the victim at the time of the murder. What they do have are witnesses to the argument between her and the victim, physical evidence that she was at his apartment, and a witness that places her in New York with the victim about an hour before he was murdered. There's also apparently a security tape that implicates Bridget as well. Bridget says she was in Gotham City by that time, but she has no way to verify that."

"Do you believe her?" asked Barbara.

"Yes, I do." Matt sighed. "Unfortunately, the witness that contradicts her story is normally a very reliable man -- I know him. I'm sure there's some reason he's mistaken, but I'm not sure how to prove it."

Dick nodded. "All right. I'm assuming that even though this case is almost identical to the other two cops who were killed, the DA is not going to bring those cases up?"

"Right. There's absolutely no evidence linking her to the other two murders, and they don't want to complicate their case. I've thought about raising the issue myself, but I don't think it helps our side."

"Then it seems to me that the best way to get Clancy off is to find the woman who actually killed these men," stated Dick.

"It certainly would make my job easier," Matt agreed.

"I asked Babs to do a preliminary search to see what these three men had in common." Dick gestured for Barbara to proceed.

She grimaced. "Unfortunately, the only thing I've found so far was that they were New York City police officers killed after picking up a woman for some casual sex. Two were beat cops; one was a detective. None of the three ever served in the same precinct; they didn't even go to the academy together. I haven't found any cases that they worked on together, nor did they pick up the murderer in the same bar."

Matt said, "Maybe there isn't any common factor; maybe she only wants to kill cops at random."

"But how did she know they were cops?" replied Dick. "If they had all been beat cops, I might buy that, because of the uniform, but why the detective? How did she know he was police?" He sighed. "I think before we settle on random choice, we, or rather Babs, should do a thorough background check on these guys. I want to know when they were born, where they were born, where they grew up, anything you can find out on them."

Barbara frowned in concentration. "I can get that information, but it may take a little while."

"Can you do it from the apartment, or do you need to go back home?" Dick asked.

"The apartment should be fine -- Bruce has a nice T1 line I can use to link to my servers. I should be done by the time you're supposed to take me out to dinner." She smiled at him.

"Yes, I'm taking you to dinner and a show," Dick said, in pretend resignation. "That was the deal, and I'm sticking to it." He turned back to Matt and said more seriously, "Would you mind introducing me to your friend who's the witness?"

"Why?" Matt asked, suspicious. Grayson certainly seemed easier to work with than Batman/Bruce had been, but maybe the friendliness was as much of a front as Wayne's ditziness.

"Well, I'd like to find out if he actually heard the woman he identified as Clancy say anything."

Matt, remembering his surprise at the contrast between Bridget's features and her distinctive accent, grinned. "Good point. Do you want to go now?"

"If you have time. Babs, why don't you take your Hummer back to the apartment, and I'll take a cab with Mr. Murdock?"

Barbara agreed, and the three left the office and went down to the parking garage. Matt smiled in some amusement as Dick and Barbara exchanged a rather passionate goodbye kiss before she left. Dick saw the smile and started to sputter a bit before he returned a bright grin of his own.

"Yep, I'm a very lucky man," he smirked.

~~~~~~~~~~

The cab ride to McMurphy's, the bar where Jerry worked, was quiet. Matt did not want to risk having the cab driver overhear anything, and apparently, neither did Dick. It was early enough in the day that the bar was fairly deserted, but Matt could not detect any sign that Jerry was there.

"Hey, Mr. Murdock!" exclaimed the bartender on duty. "Haven't seen you in a while! How're ya doin'?"

"Hello, Skip," replied Matt. "I'm just fine, thanks. Is Jerry here?"

Skip grinned. "Naw, he went to go see his daughter."

"She finally had the baby?"

"Yep! A bouncing baby boy! She even named him after Jerry. From the way Jer sounded when I talked to him, he's not gonna stop smilin' until sometime next century."

"Do you know when he's going to be back?" Dick asked.

"Well, knowin' Jerry and knowin' his daughter, I'd say she'll send him home in a couple of days, so I figure he'll be back on Wednesday." Skip became somewhat more serious. "You want me to give him a message?"

Matt noticed Dick shaking his head and agreed with him. This question needed to be asked in person. "Just congratulate him for me. I'll check back with him later in the week."

Matt and Dick left the bar. Dick then stood with his hands in his pockets.

"Great. Just great," he said.

"Look, we already know Bridget wasn't there," Matt said, trying to cheer him. "Two days isn't going to affect the investigation much one way or the other. Maybe Barbara will have something by the time you get back."

"Yeah, and then I can go out and party while one of my friends sits in jail. Woo, what fun!" Dick muttered. He looked at Matt. "Yes, I know there's nothing more I can do right now. Yes, I know I promised Babs. I'll probably even enjoy it. But it still doesn't seem right."

"Tonight, I'm planning to do some questioning of a more ... direct nature on a different case. Would you care to come along?"

Dick gave him a grim little smile that suddenly reminded Matt of Batman. "Sometimes 'direct' is the only way to go."

"I find it somewhat ... therapeutic, myself."

Dick's smile gradually became more natural. "Therapeutic, huh? I know what you mean. Nothing quite like a 'hands on' approach to the legal system." He hailed a cab. "Thanks for the invitation. I might just take you up on it."

"Don't you want to know where I'll be?" Matt asked as Dick started to get into the cab.

"I'll find you. I learned from the best."

** End Part 1 **