When Matthew Murdock ran his finger through the Defendant’s declaration, he almost dropped the paper on the floor.

It couldn’t be. There was no way in hell.

The case concerned some two-bit bank robber known as the Matador. The Gotham prosecutors had him nabbed on the criminal front but there was still the money he had stolen from the banks and laundered through various other channels. Matthew needed to keep the lights on and pay his employee her salary. Matt didn’t know why she still stayed with all the pay cuts and missing salary payments, but he did know nobody was so selfless to stay in a dump like Murdock and Associates the way Karen has for the past six months.

As Matt set the declaration down, he calmed himself. It could just be a coincidence, maybe it was just someone who shared his name. After all, with all the stunts he pulled there was no way he could’ve snug himself a licence.

Turns out, Matt’s super senses were not good enough to detect when he was lying to himself.

The door to his ‘firm’ did the familiar ding and in came the smell of cheap women and even cheaper hair conditioner. The all too familiar smell of a sleaze. He walked in with exaggerated swagger, carrying a file with freshly printed paper inside.

“Is this Murdock and Associates?” he said, asking himself more than Karen.

Matt could sense the barely concealed surprise in Karen’s body. “Yes… uh…”

“Michael, you can call me Mike,” he said. “Tell me what a pretty gal like you is doing in a dump like this.”

“I uh…”

“I see my kid brother hasn’t lost his ‘eye’ for pretty women,” Mike said. He knew Mike enough during his college years to know that his cheesy flirting would soon be followed up by a signature wink. “His taste of real estate however…” Mike put his hands on his side and let out a disapproving whistle.

“Mike,” Matthew said, trying his best to stifle his disapproving groan. “Can you please stop wasting my secretary’s time and do what you came here for?”

“That a way to treat your older brother after such a long time,” he said, spreading his arms for a hug.

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“You’re not my older brother, we’re twins,” Matthew said, ignoring his hug. “And the last thing I heard about you was that you were in prison.”

“Well, I got out,” Mike said, sitting across from him. “Did some introspection and decided to get that education Pa was always pining us to get.”

His heartbeat didn’t jump. He wasn’t telling a lie.

“So now you’re a lawyer?” Matthew asked. “And you expect me to believe that?”

“See I knew you wouldn’t believe me, so I got this.”

Mike shuffled through his file, pulling out an almost crumpled piece of paper. “Got it into braille, just for you.”

Matt ran his fingers through it. His face paled.

Mike grinned, pointing his finger at Matt. “Judging by that expression I take it you don’t believe me.”

“Who the hell did you pay…”

“I didn’t pay anyone,” Michael said. “Hit the books just like you. Didn’t go to fancy Colombia but Gotham community college can teach the law almost as well.”

“You know this is a serious offence,” Matt said. “You’d be doing years. Not months like you always do.”

There was no way his brother was a lawyer. Not without conning anybody, not without…

“I’d be scared if I didn’t write the exams,” Mike Murdock said. “Or twisted my brain at Friedman’s massive tome.”

There was not a single skip of the heartbeat, his body’s temperature didn’t rise. This was the truth. Michael Murdock was a lawyer officially recognised by the American Bar Association.

“There were some addendums in my declaration that needed tending to,” Michael said. “Thought I’d hand deliver them to my kid brother, see how he’s doing for himself.” He let out a disapproving whistle. “Not well, it seems. Where’s that fat butcher’s son you went to school with? Nelson, I think.” When Matt wasn’t forthcoming with the answers, Michael gave up and shuffled through his pockets. He handed him a card. “Here’s my details in case you need them and…”

He started to whisper. “Matt, I don’t know how your blind ass does it, but your secretary is one fine piece of ass. My secretary Carla looks and smells like a troll.”

He got up, patting Matt on the shoulder. “Better snag her up before I do.”

Michael got up to leave. He gave one last nod at Karen before whistling down the corridor.

Matt ran his fingers through the card. Of course it was in braille. Of course. Mike ran a practice close to the Gotham Court that probably looked as flamboyant as this card felt.

“Who was that…?” Karen asked, walking in. “He looked exactly like…”

“Me,” Matt said. “I know. He’s my twin brother, Michael. Took care of me when my dad died.”

“You don’t look to happy to see him,” Karen said.

“Taking care of me mostly meant working for the same assholes that took our dad away from us,” Matthew said. “He’s a petty conman, a criminal. Last I heard from him, he was in jail. Now he’s a fucking…” It took Matt tremendous strength to admit it but admit it he unfortunately did. “Lawyer.”

Karen shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s doing some good.”

“I know my brother better than you do Karen and let me tell you something,” Matt said. “Where Mike Murdock is, trouble soon follows.”

Matt ran his fingers through the declaration Mike delivered to him. “Save up for some coffee, Karen. This case is gonna be a headache and a half.”

To be continued… (not now, of course)