The Purple Man
Daredevil and related characters belong to Marvel Comics.
Other Marvel Re-Imagined titles can be found here.
Rating: T (just covering my bases)
“This is what we should be doing for ourselves Matt; moving with the times and taking on these sorts of cases.”
Matt drank from his glass and felt the bitterness of the alcohol as he swallowed. It was an easy enough comment for Foggy to say. The evidence had been stacked against Melvin Potter since his arrest and their client’s case hadn’t been hard to make in court. Potter was small time, the sort of person Yellowjacket should have been concerned with. Nelson and Murdock, and especially Daredevil, could do better than small time. There were bigger fish in the pond than Potter. Neither Foggy nor Matt had spoken about it in the past week, but the sentiment was there. Daredevil had been a complete and utter mess of an idea on paper and hadn’t done so well at capturing the bad guys either. It had gotten so bad that Foggy downed four mugs of his own coffee the minute they stepped back into their flat. At least the rain had let up. The pelting sound had begun to get monotonous.
“It was only a small case, Mr Nelson,” Karen replied. She was new at these after-case drinks. She was also sitting next to Matt. Usually it was just Foggy and Matt who swung by a bar after a particularly good session to share a drink, but Karen had been sticking to them the past few days. Matt wasn’t sure if either he or Foggy would ever object. Her voice was soft and to Matt that was everything.
“Masked crime like the Potter case is on the rise,” Foggy replied. Matt could hear his friend drinking his light beer as he paused. “There aren’t many firms who specialise in those cases yet; me and Matt could do that.”
Matt chuckled. Masked crime meant two things; more money in the wallet from the cases and more screen time for Daredevil. The Owlsley debacle had been just that, but the idea seemed so right to Matt. The idea was sound that Daredevil, the masked shadow, would lash at the lawless when the law was too strung up by its yellow tape. Perhaps simply mopping up police work in court was what didn’t appeal to him. Maybe it was the feeling he was a broom that made him feel as bitter as his alcohol.
Someone walked up to their table and sat down beside Foggy. Whoever it was smelled of cigarettes, which Matt seemed to recognise from somewhere. They’d been waiting to ask questions on the Potter case, that was it.
“Mr Murdock and Mr Nelson, it’s good to see you outside the courtroom for once,” said whoever it was. Their voice was quiet, only a bit louder than a mumble and yet far clearer. It was the sort of voice that captured attention. “I’m Ben Urich, I’m with the Daily Bugle. Just wanted a bit of company for something, that’s all.”
“What are you doing, Mr Urich?” Matt asked, leaning across the table in the direction of Urich’s voice. He could imagine Karen’s curiosity shown across her face and Foggy looking on nervously.
“It’s simple really,” Urich said, breathing in slowly. Matt could imagine the man fidgeting with his fingers or looking around the bar awkwardly. “I’d just appreciate the company when I interview some East European spy they have locked up in the city.”
Matt could hear Foggy standing up, laughing half-heartedly and excusing himself as he left the table. At his side Matt could feel as Karen also stood up. The smell of perfume left with her. He could hear Foggy rummaging through his wallet for some spare change and leaving it on the table; there must have been a couple of goodbye waves as the pair walked off for the next bus. So then, that only left Matt with Urich the reporter and his little trip to the imprisoned foreign bloke. Shrugging, Matt stood up as well.
“Well Urich, where are we headed?”
To Be Continued.