“We, the jury, find the defendant, Matthew Michael Murdock…guilty!”
A ripple of disbelief ran through the courtroom as the judge, the Kingpin, held up the neon sign that kept flashing ‘NOT GUILTY’. Matthew stood up to protest, but suddenly realized he was wearing his Daredevil outfit without the mask. The jury, who consisted of old foes like The Punisher, Death-Stalker, and Typhoid Mary, sat in the jury box with looks of smug condemnation upon their faces.
Matt felt a hand upon his shoulder.
“Well, Matt ol’ buddy, I tried,” said Foggy Nelson, a steady trickle of blood running out of the hole in his forehead. “But you know I was never as good an attorney as you are. Now, with all this gone…” and Foggy turned his head, revealing a large section of the back of his head missing, “I’m not even a quarter of the lawyer I was.”
The rapping of a gavel drew Matt’s attention away from the grim sight that was his best friend back to the bench. Judge Kingpin pointed his finger at Matt and spoke, growing larger and more menacing with each word.
“You, Matthew Murdock, I hereby do sentence to a life that makes this nightmare seem like a daydream!” Towering over Matthew, Kingpin raised his giant gavel over the blind hero. “This is my ruling. Court is ADJOURNED!!”
And with that, the giant gavel descended upon Murdock.
# # # # #
Matt sat up with a start, his body covered with a chilling layer of sweat. The satin sheets he had on his bed felt rougher than the coarsest sandpaper against his hypersensitive skin. The wind from the open bedroom window on the second floor of his brownstone home felt colder than the coldest arctic wind.
Then, with instincts honed by a lifetime of training, he remembered he had not opened the window before going to bed. He focused his senses, which were running a bit rampant due to the nightmare he had been having. He neither heard nor smelled anything or anyone out of the ordinary in his room, and his almost mystical ‘radar-sense’ did not pick up any unfamiliar shapes within its radius.
Matt relaxed a bit, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, when a soft voice said from the shadows, “You’ve never given up on me, Matthew. Don’t give up on yourself, either.”
Matthew immediately leapt out of bed, trying to pinpoint where the familiar voice had come from, to no avail. Somehow she had managed to fool his amazing senses, and if she was still there, he could not tell. He raised a hand blindly out into the dark and whispered…
“Elektra.”
# # # # #
“So give me one good reason why I should join your so-called ‘organization’, Owlsley.”
In a dilapidated warehouse on the docks of Eastern Manhattan, Leland Owlsley sat behind a desk, holding a small white mouse in his hands. On the other side of the desk, his liver spotted hands folded across his chest, was Adrian Toomes, otherwise known as the villainous Vulture.
“Quite simple, my old friend. How long have you been at this style of life? And what do you have to show for it?” Leland asked Adrian, and paused a bit before continuing on. “If you join me in my endeavor to topple and replace the Kingpin, one of two things will happen. We will fail, and it will merely be another loss in your already undistinguished life. But if we succeed, then…then everyone will have to respect the name of The Vulture. Is that not a risk worth taking?”
Toomes glowered at Owlsley for a moment as he mulled over the green-clad crime lord’s words. As much as it galled him to admit it, the aging super-villain knew The Owl was right. He was already an old man, and a good part of his twilight years had been spent in one losing venture after another. If he lost again, what would it matter?
Adrian pulled a nearby chair up to the desk and sat down on it. “So…what is your plan?” he asked through his almost omnipresent scowl.
Leland put the owl back in its cage on the end of his desk, and turned to face Adrian. “I think you’ll appreciate this. It starts with a sort of…scavenger hunt.”
The Owl outlined his plans to The Vulture, and Toomes liked very much what he heard.
# # # # #
The next morning, Matt readied himself for another day in court. He still couldn’t believe that he himself was accused of being an accessory to the murder of his friend and partner, Foggy Nelson, and conspiracy to commit murder on Wilson Fisk. It seems that about two months before Bullseye had killed Foggy*, he had pulled out a life insurance policy on himself for several million dollars. Unknown to Matt, Foggy had named his best friend as beneficiary, presumably so Matt could keep their law firm going in case anything had ever happened to him. Unknown to both Foggy and Matt, the insurance company that Foggy had used was a subsidiary of a subsidiary of a subsidiary of Wilson Fisk’s legal business empire.
(*Foggy Nelson was killed in M2K’s Daredevil #1. ~Jason)
According to the transcript’s the prosecution had provided, Wilson Fisk became aware of the policy, and due to the ‘curious nature and timing of the death of Franklin Nelson’, began an independent investigation. When it was discovered that Matthew Murdock had hired the masked assassin known as Bullseye to kill Nelson in order to obtain the sizeable insurance money, Murdock took steps to kill Fisk as well, and destroy the evidence implicating him.
The prosecution then contends that Murdock hired Bullseye again to kill Fisk, but, as Fisk testified, Bullseye wanted more money for the murder, and a struggle ensued between Murdock and Bullseye. Bullseye physically beat the blind Murdock, but before the killer could finish Murdock off, he produced a gun and shot Bullseye in the head, critically injuring him. Fisk then took that moment to “heroically” (Matt could barely keep from laughing in court when this was said) attempt to stop Murdock by knocking the gun out of his hand. Murdock fell to the ground next to the wounded Bullseye, and discovered that the costumed criminal also had a firearm, presumably to kill Fisk. Murdock picked it up and fired wildly at where Fisk was, “unfortunately” hitting the “civic minded” Wilson Fisk several times in the body before succumbing to his own wounds and lapsing into unconsciousness. *
(*All this is a skewed account of what actually happened in M2K’s Daredevil #10. ~Jason)
Matt Murdock had been defending himself throughout the trial, entering a plea of ‘not guilty’. He had used all of his savings to pay the $250,000 bail that kept him out of jail. Due to the high profile nature of the case, he had curbed his activities as the swashbuckling hero, Daredevil. He was confident he would soon win this case and resume his life (both public and secret) since most of the prosecution’s case had proven to be circumstantial and filled with speculation. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would do for his future, but one step at a time, he told himself.
Matt, properly attired in a modest brown suit, grabbed his walking stick and briefcase, and opened the front door of his brownstone. The cab that he had called about an hour prior was waiting at the curb for him. He took a deep breath and got in and the cab whizzed off toward the courthouse.
# # # # #
One month prior
Rusty had worked as a groundskeeper at this old cemetery on Long Island for longer than he cared to remember. It had originally just been a temporary job until he finished his ‘novel’. Decades later, the unfinished masterpiece lay in a moldering box in his garage, and he was still mowing the lawn and clipping the bushes amongst the dead. He tried to make the best of his job, and took pride in his hard work. The cemetery always looked presentable for visitors.
So imagine his surprise when he came across a gravesite that had appeared to be dug up. Fresh dirt and bits of broken wood were scattered about as if something had exploded out of the ground. The site had been fine just the other day when he had last been in this area. Looking at the gravestone, Rusty realized this was the same grave that the night guard had caught some vandal the other night.
Bending down and pinching some of the fresh dirt between two fingers, he grabbed his walkie-talkie with his other hand, intending to call the grounds manager back at the front gate. Before he could, however, a shadow fell across him from behind. A hand with an iron grip grabbed the back of Rusty’s head and smashed it into the gravestone, instantly knocking him unconscious. Sinewy hands then began taking the clothes off of the stunned man and putting them on his self. After leaving Rusty naked and bleeding, the shadowy man stumbled off into the distance.
# # # # #
Matt sat at the defense table, his thoughts wandering as the prosecution droned on and on with its closing arguments. The blind attorney had found it hard to concentrate, especially after last night’s dream and his mysterious visitor. Had it really been Elektra? If so, why had she picked now to fall back into his life? Of course, it was exactly during times like these that she seemed to pop up, as if to make complex situations even more difficult.
He tried getting Elektra out of his thoughts, and his mind back on what the prosecution was saying.
“…And Mister Murdock had the motivation, for if he had succeeded in his diabolical plan he would have received millions of dollars as the beneficiary of Franklin Nelson’s insurance policy. If it hadn’t been for the tenacity and keen mind of Wilson Fisk…”
Fisk. It always came back to Fisk, Matt thought as his mind turned inward again. Just about every major problem he’s had in the last several years was due to Fisk. He’d do anything to see Matt fall. He’s sat up in that witness stand and lied to everyone here about what happened that night in the warehouse. He’s sent villains after Matt, used his influence to destroy him both professionally and personally. He’s tampered with juries in trials that Matt’s…defended…
With a thought like a bolt of lightning, Matt immediately sat up and whirled toward the jury box. What if Fisk had bought this jury? Why hadn’t he thought of this earlier? An unfamiliar panic began to spread within Matt. There was too much spotlight from the media on this case for him to leap around town as Daredevil, investigating his fear. Perhaps he could get a friend to help. The Black Widow, perhaps. Natasha would help him. But…what if Fisk got to her, too. Her loyalties haven’t always been her strong suit. First her Soviet masters, then SHIELD, the Avengers, and now she was some sort of mercenary. He couldn’t be positive he could trust her. Then who…?
“Mister Murdock? Mister Murdock!”
Matt’s head snapped toward the sharp voice of the judge. “Yes, your honor?”
“I asked if you wish to make your closing arguments now,” the judge asked, annoyance in his voice at having to repeat himself.
Matt quickly gathered himself. “Uh, yes…sorry, your honor. Yes, I am ready.”
The blind attorney stood and approached the jury box, his walking cane in hand. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury…what the defense would have you believe is that I have masterminded this great and far-reaching plan to kill my best friend for financial gain…”
As Matt spoke he paused in front of each juror, focusing his amazing senses on them. Most of the heartbeats of the jury were steady. That didn’t mean much in determining what their verdict vote would be, merely that they hadn’t been bought or forced. But three of the jurors’ heartbeats became like jackhammers as Matt stopped in front of them. They were scared. Fury filled Matt Murdock.
“…And may I remind you jurors 2, 4, and 9 that taking a bribe or having your vote coerced in a court of law is a FEDERAL OFFENSE!” and he whacked his cane on the railing in front of the jury box.
“MISTER MURDOCK!” the judge yelled and banged his gavel on the table several times, each one sounding like a gunshot to Matt, who covered his ears and curled up. “Bailiff, see to Murdock!”
Matt stood back up, waiving off the bailiff. “I’m all right, your honor.”
The bailiff pointed his gavel at Matt. “I don’t believe so, Mister Murdock. That outburst was both outrageous and eligible for a contempt of court charge. If you want to make outrageous accusations, bring them to me on the side. Otherwise…”
The judge was cut off by the sound of raucous laughter emanating from Matthew. “Outrageous accusations? This whole trial is due to outrageous accusations!! You want your closing argument, fine! I lost my best friend due to Wilson Fisk! I lost the woman I loved to Fisk! And I’m going to lose my freedom because Fisk bought THEM!!” and he pointed to the jury, who were looking around at each other. “THE DEFENSE RESTS!” Matt screamed.
The judge began banging his gavel again. “MURDOCK! This court finds you in contempt of court! Bailiff, escort him to a cell until the jury is ready to render its verdict! Maybe by then you’ll have gotten over your hissy fit!”
The bailiff grabbed Matt by the elbow, and for a moment, Matt considered dislocating the man’s shoulder and fleeing, but he suddenly found his anger had drained out of him, leaving him feeling very tired. He allowed the court officer to lead him away.
# # # # #
A little while later, Matt found himself in a small cell in the courthouse’s basement. He sat on the uncomfortable bed, his head drooping. What had come over him? Suddenly, a voice came from the other side of the bars.
“Well, you’ve sure made a mess out of this one, Matt. I thought I was the screw-up on this team?”
Matt was dumbstruck. He stood up, and walked to the bars. What his senses told him was impossible, yet the scent, the heartbeat, the outline on his radar sense…it was him.
“Foggy?”
To be continued…
Next issue: Could this really be Foggy Nelson, somehow back from the dead? And will Matt really be found guilty and sent to prison? And what of the shadowy figure? Don’t we always have to wonder about the shadowy figures? Plus: The Owl makes his first move against the Kingpin of Crime. Believe you me, things are really going to start getting crazy now!
A ripple of disbelief ran through the courtroom as the judge, the Kingpin, held up the neon sign that kept flashing ‘NOT GUILTY’. Matthew stood up to protest, but suddenly realized he was wearing his Daredevil outfit without the mask. The jury, who consisted of old foes like The Punisher, Death-Stalker, and Typhoid Mary, sat in the jury box with looks of smug condemnation upon their faces.
Matt felt a hand upon his shoulder.
“Well, Matt ol’ buddy, I tried,” said Foggy Nelson, a steady trickle of blood running out of the hole in his forehead. “But you know I was never as good an attorney as you are. Now, with all this gone…” and Foggy turned his head, revealing a large section of the back of his head missing, “I’m not even a quarter of the lawyer I was.”
The rapping of a gavel drew Matt’s attention away from the grim sight that was his best friend back to the bench. Judge Kingpin pointed his finger at Matt and spoke, growing larger and more menacing with each word.
“You, Matthew Murdock, I hereby do sentence to a life that makes this nightmare seem like a daydream!” Towering over Matthew, Kingpin raised his giant gavel over the blind hero. “This is my ruling. Court is ADJOURNED!!”
And with that, the giant gavel descended upon Murdock.
# # # # #
Matt sat up with a start, his body covered with a chilling layer of sweat. The satin sheets he had on his bed felt rougher than the coarsest sandpaper against his hypersensitive skin. The wind from the open bedroom window on the second floor of his brownstone home felt colder than the coldest arctic wind.
Then, with instincts honed by a lifetime of training, he remembered he had not opened the window before going to bed. He focused his senses, which were running a bit rampant due to the nightmare he had been having. He neither heard nor smelled anything or anyone out of the ordinary in his room, and his almost mystical ‘radar-sense’ did not pick up any unfamiliar shapes within its radius.
Matt relaxed a bit, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, when a soft voice said from the shadows, “You’ve never given up on me, Matthew. Don’t give up on yourself, either.”
Matthew immediately leapt out of bed, trying to pinpoint where the familiar voice had come from, to no avail. Somehow she had managed to fool his amazing senses, and if she was still there, he could not tell. He raised a hand blindly out into the dark and whispered…
“Elektra.”
# # # # #
“So give me one good reason why I should join your so-called ‘organization’, Owlsley.”
In a dilapidated warehouse on the docks of Eastern Manhattan, Leland Owlsley sat behind a desk, holding a small white mouse in his hands. On the other side of the desk, his liver spotted hands folded across his chest, was Adrian Toomes, otherwise known as the villainous Vulture.
“Quite simple, my old friend. How long have you been at this style of life? And what do you have to show for it?” Leland asked Adrian, and paused a bit before continuing on. “If you join me in my endeavor to topple and replace the Kingpin, one of two things will happen. We will fail, and it will merely be another loss in your already undistinguished life. But if we succeed, then…then everyone will have to respect the name of The Vulture. Is that not a risk worth taking?”
Toomes glowered at Owlsley for a moment as he mulled over the green-clad crime lord’s words. As much as it galled him to admit it, the aging super-villain knew The Owl was right. He was already an old man, and a good part of his twilight years had been spent in one losing venture after another. If he lost again, what would it matter?
Adrian pulled a nearby chair up to the desk and sat down on it. “So…what is your plan?” he asked through his almost omnipresent scowl.
Leland put the owl back in its cage on the end of his desk, and turned to face Adrian. “I think you’ll appreciate this. It starts with a sort of…scavenger hunt.”
The Owl outlined his plans to The Vulture, and Toomes liked very much what he heard.
# # # # #
The next morning, Matt readied himself for another day in court. He still couldn’t believe that he himself was accused of being an accessory to the murder of his friend and partner, Foggy Nelson, and conspiracy to commit murder on Wilson Fisk. It seems that about two months before Bullseye had killed Foggy*, he had pulled out a life insurance policy on himself for several million dollars. Unknown to Matt, Foggy had named his best friend as beneficiary, presumably so Matt could keep their law firm going in case anything had ever happened to him. Unknown to both Foggy and Matt, the insurance company that Foggy had used was a subsidiary of a subsidiary of a subsidiary of Wilson Fisk’s legal business empire.
(*Foggy Nelson was killed in M2K’s Daredevil #1. ~Jason)
According to the transcript’s the prosecution had provided, Wilson Fisk became aware of the policy, and due to the ‘curious nature and timing of the death of Franklin Nelson’, began an independent investigation. When it was discovered that Matthew Murdock had hired the masked assassin known as Bullseye to kill Nelson in order to obtain the sizeable insurance money, Murdock took steps to kill Fisk as well, and destroy the evidence implicating him.
The prosecution then contends that Murdock hired Bullseye again to kill Fisk, but, as Fisk testified, Bullseye wanted more money for the murder, and a struggle ensued between Murdock and Bullseye. Bullseye physically beat the blind Murdock, but before the killer could finish Murdock off, he produced a gun and shot Bullseye in the head, critically injuring him. Fisk then took that moment to “heroically” (Matt could barely keep from laughing in court when this was said) attempt to stop Murdock by knocking the gun out of his hand. Murdock fell to the ground next to the wounded Bullseye, and discovered that the costumed criminal also had a firearm, presumably to kill Fisk. Murdock picked it up and fired wildly at where Fisk was, “unfortunately” hitting the “civic minded” Wilson Fisk several times in the body before succumbing to his own wounds and lapsing into unconsciousness. *
(*All this is a skewed account of what actually happened in M2K’s Daredevil #10. ~Jason)
Matt Murdock had been defending himself throughout the trial, entering a plea of ‘not guilty’. He had used all of his savings to pay the $250,000 bail that kept him out of jail. Due to the high profile nature of the case, he had curbed his activities as the swashbuckling hero, Daredevil. He was confident he would soon win this case and resume his life (both public and secret) since most of the prosecution’s case had proven to be circumstantial and filled with speculation. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would do for his future, but one step at a time, he told himself.
Matt, properly attired in a modest brown suit, grabbed his walking stick and briefcase, and opened the front door of his brownstone. The cab that he had called about an hour prior was waiting at the curb for him. He took a deep breath and got in and the cab whizzed off toward the courthouse.
# # # # #
One month prior
Rusty had worked as a groundskeeper at this old cemetery on Long Island for longer than he cared to remember. It had originally just been a temporary job until he finished his ‘novel’. Decades later, the unfinished masterpiece lay in a moldering box in his garage, and he was still mowing the lawn and clipping the bushes amongst the dead. He tried to make the best of his job, and took pride in his hard work. The cemetery always looked presentable for visitors.
So imagine his surprise when he came across a gravesite that had appeared to be dug up. Fresh dirt and bits of broken wood were scattered about as if something had exploded out of the ground. The site had been fine just the other day when he had last been in this area. Looking at the gravestone, Rusty realized this was the same grave that the night guard had caught some vandal the other night.
Bending down and pinching some of the fresh dirt between two fingers, he grabbed his walkie-talkie with his other hand, intending to call the grounds manager back at the front gate. Before he could, however, a shadow fell across him from behind. A hand with an iron grip grabbed the back of Rusty’s head and smashed it into the gravestone, instantly knocking him unconscious. Sinewy hands then began taking the clothes off of the stunned man and putting them on his self. After leaving Rusty naked and bleeding, the shadowy man stumbled off into the distance.
# # # # #
Matt sat at the defense table, his thoughts wandering as the prosecution droned on and on with its closing arguments. The blind attorney had found it hard to concentrate, especially after last night’s dream and his mysterious visitor. Had it really been Elektra? If so, why had she picked now to fall back into his life? Of course, it was exactly during times like these that she seemed to pop up, as if to make complex situations even more difficult.
He tried getting Elektra out of his thoughts, and his mind back on what the prosecution was saying.
“…And Mister Murdock had the motivation, for if he had succeeded in his diabolical plan he would have received millions of dollars as the beneficiary of Franklin Nelson’s insurance policy. If it hadn’t been for the tenacity and keen mind of Wilson Fisk…”
Fisk. It always came back to Fisk, Matt thought as his mind turned inward again. Just about every major problem he’s had in the last several years was due to Fisk. He’d do anything to see Matt fall. He’s sat up in that witness stand and lied to everyone here about what happened that night in the warehouse. He’s sent villains after Matt, used his influence to destroy him both professionally and personally. He’s tampered with juries in trials that Matt’s…defended…
With a thought like a bolt of lightning, Matt immediately sat up and whirled toward the jury box. What if Fisk had bought this jury? Why hadn’t he thought of this earlier? An unfamiliar panic began to spread within Matt. There was too much spotlight from the media on this case for him to leap around town as Daredevil, investigating his fear. Perhaps he could get a friend to help. The Black Widow, perhaps. Natasha would help him. But…what if Fisk got to her, too. Her loyalties haven’t always been her strong suit. First her Soviet masters, then SHIELD, the Avengers, and now she was some sort of mercenary. He couldn’t be positive he could trust her. Then who…?
“Mister Murdock? Mister Murdock!”
Matt’s head snapped toward the sharp voice of the judge. “Yes, your honor?”
“I asked if you wish to make your closing arguments now,” the judge asked, annoyance in his voice at having to repeat himself.
Matt quickly gathered himself. “Uh, yes…sorry, your honor. Yes, I am ready.”
The blind attorney stood and approached the jury box, his walking cane in hand. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury…what the defense would have you believe is that I have masterminded this great and far-reaching plan to kill my best friend for financial gain…”
As Matt spoke he paused in front of each juror, focusing his amazing senses on them. Most of the heartbeats of the jury were steady. That didn’t mean much in determining what their verdict vote would be, merely that they hadn’t been bought or forced. But three of the jurors’ heartbeats became like jackhammers as Matt stopped in front of them. They were scared. Fury filled Matt Murdock.
“…And may I remind you jurors 2, 4, and 9 that taking a bribe or having your vote coerced in a court of law is a FEDERAL OFFENSE!” and he whacked his cane on the railing in front of the jury box.
“MISTER MURDOCK!” the judge yelled and banged his gavel on the table several times, each one sounding like a gunshot to Matt, who covered his ears and curled up. “Bailiff, see to Murdock!”
Matt stood back up, waiving off the bailiff. “I’m all right, your honor.”
The bailiff pointed his gavel at Matt. “I don’t believe so, Mister Murdock. That outburst was both outrageous and eligible for a contempt of court charge. If you want to make outrageous accusations, bring them to me on the side. Otherwise…”
The judge was cut off by the sound of raucous laughter emanating from Matthew. “Outrageous accusations? This whole trial is due to outrageous accusations!! You want your closing argument, fine! I lost my best friend due to Wilson Fisk! I lost the woman I loved to Fisk! And I’m going to lose my freedom because Fisk bought THEM!!” and he pointed to the jury, who were looking around at each other. “THE DEFENSE RESTS!” Matt screamed.
The judge began banging his gavel again. “MURDOCK! This court finds you in contempt of court! Bailiff, escort him to a cell until the jury is ready to render its verdict! Maybe by then you’ll have gotten over your hissy fit!”
The bailiff grabbed Matt by the elbow, and for a moment, Matt considered dislocating the man’s shoulder and fleeing, but he suddenly found his anger had drained out of him, leaving him feeling very tired. He allowed the court officer to lead him away.
# # # # #
A little while later, Matt found himself in a small cell in the courthouse’s basement. He sat on the uncomfortable bed, his head drooping. What had come over him? Suddenly, a voice came from the other side of the bars.
“Well, you’ve sure made a mess out of this one, Matt. I thought I was the screw-up on this team?”
Matt was dumbstruck. He stood up, and walked to the bars. What his senses told him was impossible, yet the scent, the heartbeat, the outline on his radar sense…it was him.
“Foggy?”
To be continued…
Next issue: Could this really be Foggy Nelson, somehow back from the dead? And will Matt really be found guilty and sent to prison? And what of the shadowy figure? Don’t we always have to wonder about the shadowy figures? Plus: The Owl makes his first move against the Kingpin of Crime. Believe you me, things are really going to start getting crazy now!