The Owl of Wall Street
Daredevil and related characters belong to Marvel Comics.
Rating: T (just covering my bases)
“I represent Dr Wu,” he said, “and we’re interested in receiving a loan to start-up research into the super-soldier serum.”
Owlsley looked at the glass in his hand, little of his bourbon remaining, and swirled its contents. His eyes were only small but to Foggy Nelson it felt as if they were large and all-encompassing eyes. He felt like a mouse squirming under the gaze of a cat, toyed with and lured in by its own tail until the jaws of the cat were all he could see. No, Owlsley wasn’t a cat. Owlsley was an owl. Foggy understood the nickname ‘Owl of Wallstreet’ much better, but he didn’t enjoy that knowing.
“Dr Wu?” Owlsley said. “Dr Wu… ah yes. I remember you now.”
The man drank the rest of his bourbon, cringing as he swallowed. His talon-like fingers gripping the glass, he pointed at Foggy. “You were with what’s-his-name, Lieber. The embezzlement case earlier this week, that was you wasn’t it?”
“Our separate client thought my firm’s legal case against you would help the negotiations,” Foggy said, fiddling with the handle of his briefcase. He really wished that he and Matt were still bowling with Karen. Everything had seemed so much simpler as he sat there with an iced bottle of sprite pressed against his forehead. It was hard to think it was three whole days ago. “A pre-familiarity thing, he figured since we’ve dealt with you before...”
Looking up, Foggy could see Owlsley nodding. He breathed out, realising just then how tense he’d actually been. He couldn’t be sure if Owlsley knew Dr Wu didn’t exist, but keeping the man in his office was the only thing he’d planned on doing. It was the only thing he needed to do.
“Nelson, a funny name isn’t it?” Owlsley said, pouring himself another glass of bourbon. “You want a glass, Mr Nelson?”
“Yes please,” Foggy replied, trying to breathe calmly. “Truth is that my mother, she was born here. Her parents came from Japan in the fifties I think. Nelson’s my father’s name.”
He took the glass when Owlsley offered it, smiling. Throwing his head back, he drank the bourbon. Foggy swallowed and placed the glass on Owlsley’s desk, clicking open his briefcase. Owlsley stroked his beard, smiling. Matt had spent some time having Karen source together the paperwork. Foggy didn’t really want to think about the guilt of lying to Karen that it was helping out a journalist friend; that wasn’t what he was good at. Looking up he noticed Owlsley beckoning for him to carry on. That was something Foggy was more than willing to do. At last to business; that was Foggy Nelson’s comfort zone.
To Be Continued.