Chapter 12 – Breach of Contract

Matt

"Vanessa," Matt replied.

"Mandy, Jay, Nick," Vanessa said, addressing the other three people in the room, "meet Matthew Murdock."

"But, but, um, he said his name was 'Mike'," Nick spluttered.

"Jesus, Nick," Mandy snapped, "try to keep up. What part of 'undercover' don't you understand?"

"Oh."

"Have a seat," Vanessa said, gesturing toward the couch. Matt sat at one end, with Mandy and Jay next to him. Vanessa and Nick took their seats in the armchairs across from them. The three operatives were all armed.

"What game are you playing, Matthew?" Vanessa demanded, her voice hard.

"No game."

"But you tipped off the NYPD, didn't you?"

No point in denying it. "I did."

"That sounds like a breach of our contract."

"Not at all," Matt told her, "you were never in jeopardy."

"You couldn't know that," Vanessa protested.

"You weren't there. You're too smart for that."

"So why call the police?"

"If I hadn't, and your people had showed up at the pier, it would have been a bloodbath."

"And you think a bunch of trigger-happy cops would've stopped it?"

"Brett Mahoney would have," Matt said. "And there's another thing: no matter if you or Owlsley won, all that heroin would've been on the streets. I couldn't let that happen."

"Self-righteous prick," Vanessa muttered.

"Why, thank you," Matt said smugly.

"Do you have any idea how much money you cost me? How much I could've made off that heroin?"

"I have a pretty good idea."

"That money was going to free Wilson, with enough left over to bankroll a legitimate business for us."

Matt scoffed. "Wilson Fisk, going legitimate? He's no more capable of going legitimate than I am of flying a plane."

"It will happen eventually. It may take longer, because of you, but it will happen. You'll see."

Matt shook his head. "I doubt it."

"Still," she mused, as if thinking out loud, "today is a good day. You got rid of one problem for me. Wilson will be pleased. He'll be even more pleased when he learns you're out of the way, along with your friends." She spat out the last word, as if it was distasteful to her. She turned and started to walk toward the door, then did a half turn and said, over her shoulder. "Do it."

There was the sound of metal sliding on metal as two rounds were racked into two chambers. Then a third. Nick, probably.

"You might want to hear what I have to say, before your associates do something . . . irrevocable," Matt suggested.

"I seriously doubt anything you have to say could be of interest to me," she said scornfully.

"You're going to hear it, one way or the other. You can learn about it now, or you can learn about it later. The hard way."

Matt could sense Vanessa's uncertainty as she turned back toward him. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't have them kill you, right now," she said.

"I don't have one reason. I have six," Matt told her.

"Six?"

"There are four people who have copies of a dossier I put together, with everything I have on you and your organization. You can't stop them, or manipulate them, or buy them. If I don't show up at the law office of Nelson & Murdock, alive and well, by six o'clock today, that dossier goes to the NYPD and the Bulletin."

"And the other two reasons?"

"The two copies of the dossier that will be mailed to the NYPD and the Bulletin at 6:01 p.m. if I don't show up. I don't think even you can intercept the U.S. Mail."

"You're bluffing."

Matt shrugged. "So call it."

"Maybe I will." She paused for a moment, before something else apparently occurred to her. "What's to stop me from 'persuading' you to contact your friends and call them off?"

"I suppose you could do that," Matt replied thoughtfully. "But Foggy and Karen weren't born yesterday, you know. I doubt they'd fall for it." The three of them had also come up with code words for him to use if he was forced to make such a call. But if he was sufficiently convincing, Vanessa would never know about that precaution.

"Perhaps not, but I can take them all out, once you're out of the way."

"You could, maybe, but those two copies will still be in the mail," Matt pointed out. "Besides, you'll never get to all four of them in time. Two of them aren't in the city. One isn't even in the country. I'd prefer that you not kill any of them, of course, but all I need is one. And if you kill any of them, or go after Foggy or Karen, the others will release the dossier."

"Four people, you say? Let me think." Vanessa fell silent for several minutes. Finally, she said, "Three are your comrades-in-arms, so to speak: Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, and Danny Rand. But who is the fourth?" Another pause. Then: "Of course. Frank Castle. He was your client, wasn't he?"

When Matt didn't answer, she said, "You might as well tell me, you know. Jay here is quite skilled at . . . extracting information."

Matt considered this. She was right: he would talk, eventually. And if he held out until after six o'clock, he was dead anyway. Vanessa would have no reason to keep him alive. "They're the four," he said.

"You're probably right. I won't be able to stop them, not in time to do me any good. So I'm supposed to just let you walk out of here?"

"Exactly. Then we go back to the status quo, more or less. I won't go after you, as I agreed. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna stand by and let your people tear Hell's Kitchen apart. I won't let that happen."

Matt thought for a moment, then something else occurred to him. "You claim you're planning to go legit, right?" Vanessa nodded. "So do it. Prove me wrong. You don't need the drug money. That's just an excuse."

"It would've helped," she murmured.

He ignored her. "And there's one other stipulation. In consideration of the work I've done for you for the past two months, Foggy Nelson and Karen Page are off limits, permanently."

"Why should Wilson and I agree to all that?"

"For one thing, I've still got the dossier. And if your people harm even a single hair on Karen Page's head, well, I don't like your chances when Frank Castle finds out about it. Your choice."

A minute turned into five while Vanessa considered her options. Finally, she said, "I agree. Now get out before I change my mind."

Matt went.

Karen

"Foggy! Stop pacing!" Karen ordered. "You're gonna wear a hole in the carpet."

"Who cares?" Foggy muttered. "It's a piece of crap, anyway." Then he resumed his pacing. "Where is he? He should be here by now."

"It's only 5:30," Karen said soothingly.

"But Brett said he got bailed out hours ago," Foggy protested.

"His plan will work. You said so yourself, after we talked to him yesterday. He'll be here."

Foggy stopped pacing and fell into the chair behind his desk, then covered his face with his hands. "I can't take any more of this."

Karen rubbed the back of his neck. "I know."

Foggy raised his head. "Are the envelopes ready to go? You know, in case . . . ." His voice trailed off.

"All ready," Karen assured him. "Jessica's associate Malcolm is standing by with them at the post office, waiting for our call. But we're not gonna need them."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Foggy looked at his watch. "C'mon, c'mon," he muttered.

A few more minutes passed, then Foggy sprang out of his chair. "Was that the front door?"

He darted out from behind his desk and into the reception area. Karen followed him. The office door opened. Matt walked in with a big grin on his face. Foggy ran to him and wrapped him in a hug. Then he wrinkled his nose and stepped back. "Eww."

"I spent the night in jail, remember?"

"Oh. Right. Remind me never to do that. And what's with the hair?"

"You mean you don't like it?"

"Honestly? I hate it," Foggy admitted. "But at least it's low maintenance. And it'll grow back."

"You got that right," Matt laughed. Then he seemed to notice Karen for the first time."Hey, Karen."

"Hey, yourself," she replied. "It's good to have you back."

"Just don't hug me," he warned.

"Not gonna happen," she assured him, smiling.

"What took you so long, buddy?" Foggy asked. "Brett said you got out hours ago."

"Uh, just, uh, wrapping things up with Vanessa," Matt said. He had that shifty look he always got when he wasn't telling them something, but Karen decided not to press him about it now. He looked tired. She'd get it out of him later. Instead, she commented, "Bummer that Owlsley got away."

"Yeah. Mahoney thinks he was on a flight to the Caymans last night. But he's out of Hell's Kitchen, and his organization is toast. So there's that."

Foggy flopped down on the reception room couch. "Nice suit, by the way."

"You think?" Matt ran a hand down one of the lapels. "Melvin made it."

"Melvin Potter?"

"Yeah, it's lined with his armor, like the suits he made for Fisk."

"Cool."

An anxious look crossed Matt's face. "I should go, get cleaned up," he said. He turned around and took a couple of steps toward the door.

"But you just got here," Foggy protested.

"It's OK," Karen said. "You look tired, Matt. You're right, you should go." Then she spoke to Foggy. "Besides, we have to call everyone, let them know Matt's safe," Karen reminded him.

"Oh. Right," Foggy said, pulling out his phone. "I'll call Luke, Jessica, and Malcolm, you call Frank and Danny."

"You got it," Karen said as Matt walked out of the office. He stopped in the doorway and turned to face his friends.

"Thanks, guys. See you tomorrow."

Matt

Matt stepped into his apartment, He didn't want to admit it, but Karen was right. He was tired. A night in jail wasn't exactly restful, especially when you were locked up with people you'd been double-crossing for months, and you could be exposed at any moment. He took a deep breath. Bad idea. He could still smell the stink of the jail on himself, overlaid with stress sweat from his confrontation with Vanessa. He stripped off his clothes and took a long shower, as hot as he could stand it. Afterward, as he was toweling off, most of the stink was gone, but he could still detect a hint of it. He shrugged. He had a bigger problem to deal with. When he and Foggy were talking about his suit and Melvin Potter, he remembered, to his horror, that his Daredevil gear was still in Mike Murphy's apartment. Sooner or later, Vanessa's people would clear out the place. He couldn't allow them to find his stuff. He had to get to it before they did.

A little after midnight, Matt left his apartment and headed uptown, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and a hoodie. He left his dark glasses and cane behind, hoping he could pass for a gym rat going home from a late-night workout. When he reached the block where Mike's apartment building was located, he took to the roofs. Once on the roof of Mike's building, he picked the lock on the stairwell door, and he was in. The eighth floor was quiet and empty. Apparently Mandy, Jay, and Nick had returned to their own homes.

Matt slipped out of the stairwell and opened the door of 8B. The cops had returned his keys when he got out of jail, and Vanessa had neglected to take them from him. Once inside, he scanned the place. It hadn't been cleared out yet. He went into the bedroom and opened the closet. His duffel was still there. He checked its contents: all there. He picked up the duffel and started to leave. Then he stopped and went back to the closet. The two other suits made by Melvin were still there. He swept them off their hangers and shoved them into the duffel, along with as many of the silk shirts as would fit. He smiled to himself as he left the apartment. He would never admit it, but Foggy wasn't the only one who'd always wanted a good suit.

The next afternoon, Foggy and Karen were in the conference room when Matt returned from meeting a new client. The news of Owlsley's downfall was playing on Karen's laptop. Before going to join them, Matt dropped his briefcase and cane on his desk and took off his jacket, then took a bottle of Scotch out of his desk drawer. On the way to the conference room, he picked up three glasses in the break room.

As Foggy poured their drinks, he said, "I went to see Brett this afternoon and gave him the flash drives with everything you have on Owlsley."

"Good," Matt said.

"He said to thank you, but he's still looking forward to the day when he can arrest your ass – for real, next time."

"I'm sure he is," Matt said dryly.

"He also said Jimmy Callahan flipped on Owlsley."

"No way," Matt said. "He told me Owlsley saved his life. He'd never turn on him."

"I don't know about that, but he did. Brett said he went ballistic when he learned that Owlsley had bailed on him. He was ready to unload on Owlsley without even getting a deal, but his lawyer stopped him."

Matt shook his head. "Won't do much good, if they can't get to Owlsley."

"They will," Foggy said. "Guys like him, they think they're so smart, but they always make a mistake. Eventually."

Matt kept his doubts to himself and simply said, "I hope you're right." He picked up his glass and swirled the liquid around in it before drinking.

When he set his glass down, Karen asked, "So – how'd it go, with Vanessa?"

"OK," Matt replied. "We, uh, confirmed that my deal with Fisk still stands." Foggy had been right about Vanessa's intentions, but there was no way in hell he was going to tell them what happened in Mike's apartment yesterday afternoon. Foggy and Karen wouldn't be happy if they learned he was keeping things from them, but that was something they didn't need to know.

"Do you trust her?" Foggy asked.

"For now, I do," Matt said. "She knows it's in her best interests to honor the deal. And she claims she's going legit."

"But that could change," Karen pointed out.

Matt nodded. "It could. It probably will, knowing Fisk. And if it does, we will deal with it – together."

They fell silent for a few minutes, drinking Scotch and listening to the news reports on Karen's laptop. Then Foggy gestured toward the screen. "You did this, buddy, you should be proud."

"It wasn't me, it was 'Mike Murphy,' with your help," Matt said with a smile.

"To 'Mike Murphy'," Karen said, lifting her glass.

Foggy and Matt echoed her. "To 'Mike Murphy'."

They clicked their glasses and drank.