The Park Row police station was bustling with footsteps and animated chattering. Everybody was talking animatedly about Elliot Grote and how he murdered his brother. Many of the officers were glad, the others were lamenting the fact that they might not get their money again.

“Liam Grote was found dead in his office this morning,” Agent Mahoney said. A strait-laced, no bullshit African American officer Mahoney was one of the few people in the Park Row precinct that could be trusted. “Elliot Grote was found, suit stained with blood. The murder weapon was a knife and that knife had his fingerprints all over it.”

“So, uh… tell me what exactly are we doing here?” Foggy asked.

“Poor old Grotto said he needed a lawyer,” Mahoney said. “Said he didn’t want any public defender. Told me he heard about a couple of new lawyers starting a firm around the block. Said he wanted them.”

“And what if we say no?” Foggy said.

Mahoney shrugged. “I don’t know. Good old Turk’s been caught with some drugs again so I’m going to be dealing with him. You guys go on ahead.”

Foggy turned his head, looking at the interrogation window. His heartbeat was like a rabbit, Matt could smell the sweat dripping down his neck. “Guy looks nervous.”

Elliot Grote’s heartbeat was going off like a jackhammer. Matt could hear his teeth grinding, the anxious tapping of his fingertips against the table and his leg bouncing off his palm.

“You think we should get out of here?” Foggy said. “We don’t have to represent him, do we?”

“Let’s at least hear him out.”

“Sure, sure,” Foggy said. “But he seems like a lost cause. Fingerprints all over the murder weapon? Prosecution is going to jump all over that.”

“Something else on your mind?” Matt asked.

Foggy bit the nail in his thumb. He looked at Elliot and back at Matt. “Yeah. This guy has been a thorn in Crime Alley’s hide for years. If we represent him, hell even talk to him, our reputation is going to take a nose dive.”

“Like I said, Foggy,” Matt said. “We’re just going to hear him out.”

“Okay, okay,” Foggy said. “But if there’s anything that seems off, we’re leaving this guy and taking a theft case or something.”

Matt nodded. “Sure.”

The door to the interrogation room creaked open. Elliot’s heart was beating extra fast, there was the smell of fear and anticipation in him but also another smell. In his sweat Matt could smell the feint trace stench of a drug. A sleeping drug.

“Um… Mr. Elliot,” Foggy said, dragging his chair across the floor and also pulling the other one out for Matt. “This is my partner Matt. We’re here to hear you out.”

Foggy reached out a hand to shake and so did Matt.

“A blind guy’s representing me?” Grotto said. “A freaking cripple.”

“You’d find I’m more than capable Mr. Elliot,” Matt said. “You’d also find that you don’t have much of a choice in the matter, do you?”

“Why you little…” Grotto growled. His handcuffs rattled as he tried to throw a punch at Matt.

“Look, Mr. Elliot,” Foggy said. “We’d like to hear your side of the story. It says in your report that you claim you were drugged.”

“I swear I was,” Grotto said. “Even told the coppers but they wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t even take a urine sample. Those bastards, want me to rot, I tell you. Rot.”

“Did you do it, Mr. Grote?” Matt said. “Did you kill your brother?”

His heartbeat was fast, panicked. It would be hard to make out he was lying but…

“I swear I didn’t kill him.”

His heart didn’t skip a beat.

“Me and Liam had a lot of differences,” Grotto said. “We even fought a lot but kill him? No. He’s my baby brother for fucks sake. Sure, I’d beat some sense into him but kill him. No.”

His heart didn’t skip a beat again.

“Even if we do believe you, Mr. Grote, why us?” Foggy asked. “Aren’t your family rich enough to afford lawyers? What about a public defender?”

Grotto scoffed. “Can’t trust the lawyers my brother hired. Bunch of swindlers I tell you that. And a public defender? Half of them are under one family or another’s paycheque. No, you two, you two are the only lawyers I can trust.”

“We might not have the experience…”

“Experience, shmexperience,” Grotto said. “You guys are the only lawyers I can trust. Look I’ll pay you whatever the hell you want, just get me the hell out of here.”

Grotto’s body smelled. A smelled Matt was all too familiar with. The smell of fear and desperation.

“I’ll discuss this with my partner,” Foggy said. “We’ll get back to you.”

They left the room. Grotto started tapping his foot against the floor.

“We’re not…”

“We’re taking it.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Foggy said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Look, Foggy,” Matt said. “This guy has connections. If we can get him to talk, we have a landmine of…”

“That’s for the police to handle,” Foggy said. “Besides we just opened up and we’re the talk of the town. If words get out that we let this guy go, what do you think will happen to our reputation?”

“He’s not that…”

“Matt this guy raped a fifteen-year-old,” Foggy said. “He used to beat the shit out of random people. Even if we had the slightest iota of a chance of getting him acquitted, you really think people around here, in Crime Alley will take it lightly?”

“You just have to trust me, Foggy.”

“I trust you Matt,” Foggy said. “It’s just…”

Foggy sighed.

“I’ll handle the evidence,” Matt said. “I’ll handle him. He said he was drugged, didn’t he? We can work with that.”

“Nobody’s going to listen if we don’t have the evidence.”

“I’ll deal with that,” Matt said. “You just do the research and the briefs.”

“The trial is tomorrow,” Foggy said. “They want to get him locked up as soon as possible.”

“That’s plenty of time.”

Foggy rubbed his temple. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Matt put a reassuring hand on Fogy’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine, Foggy. Trust me.”

“You should be glad we were best friends in college,” Foggy said. “No sane lawyer would want to go anywhere near this case.”

“Well judging by what we did in college, we’re anything but.”

Foggy let out a half-hearted chuckle. “You do the honours.”

The door to the interrogation room opened. Grotto looked up to see the blind man walking in.

“Mr. Elliot Grote,” Matt said. “You have the honour of being Nelson and Murdock’s first client.”