Waiting in an NYPD interrogation room wasn't Sarah's ideal way to spend a chunk of her night, but it could have been worse. It was bigger than whatever room McDermott and Donovan had put her in last time, at least. Attached to the table was a phone, but she hadn't touched it yet. There was also a large window that looked out into the hallway, and the blinds were open so she could see if anyone was standing outside listening.

Being handcuffed to the table was unpleasant, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

She had to wait in the room for a while before anyone came to check on her, which gave her time to think about whether it was smart to call Foggy. If Jason had set her up, then he already knew she was working against him, and it didn't matter if she called Nelson and Murdock to defend her. But if he didn't, then it got a little more complicated.

After nearly an hour, a young cop with bright red hair stuck his head into the room.

"Hey. Have you contacted your representation yet, or do you need a public defender?"

Sarah sat up straighter.

"Actually, um...is Sergeant Mahoney here tonight?"

The cop furrowed his brow. "Why?"

"If he is, I'd—I'd like to talk to him."

"Uh...well, he's not assigned to your case, but I can see if he's busy," he said slowly, as though she were trying to trick him.

"Thank you," she said.

"So, you...haven't called your lawyer yet, then?"

"No."

He gave her another odd look before leaving the room.

It was only a few minutes before the door opened again and Sergeant Mahoney stepped inside. He didn't seem as surprised by her request to see him as his colleague had been.

"You know, you're really supposed to ask for a lawyer, not for more cops," Mahoney informed her. He took a seat across the table. "You haven't made a phone call yet. Any reason why?"

Sarah chewed her lip as she debated whether to ask him for this favor.

"When you arrest someone and they call their lawyer, it...gets recorded somewhere, doesn't it? Who they called."

"The call itself doesn't get recorded, if that's what you mean. You still have attorney-client privilege," Mahoney clarified.

"No, I mean...someone who works here could look up my arrest and see what lawyers I called?"

Mahoney gave her a confused look. "Yeah. I suppose they could."

Sarah nodded.

"Um, I've heard that sometimes you pass along cases to Nelson and Murdock?" she said tentatively. "Then they just...mysteriously show up at the precinct when people need lawyers."

Brett's eyebrows went up. "And who'd you hear that from?"

Sarah gave a vague shrug.

"If I did do that on occasion—and I'm not saying I do, because no cop worth his salt would willingly cooperate with defense attorneys—why would I need to call them for someone who I'm pretty sure is already a client of theirs?" Mahoney asked.

"I'm not," Sarah said. It was obviously a lie, but she didn't really care if he believed her. All she cared about was that he would be willing to play along. "One of my neighbors is a client of theirs, and they just helped me out one time because she asked them to."

"...right," Mahoney said, his voice heavy with skepticism. "So, if you have their number, why can't you call them yourself?"

Sarah just looked at him hopefully. She didn't really have a reason she could give him, but she was hoping maybe he would help her anyway. Matt and Foggy both considered him a friend in some way, after all. And this wasn't all that different from what he normally did.

Mahoney sighed.

"Alright, tell you what. I'll call Nelson and tell him and his partner to come down here. And in exchange, I have a few things I want to talk to you about before they get here."

"Is that...I mean, can you do that?" she asked. "Talk to me without them?"

"Sure. If you temporarily waive your right to counsel. When your lawyers get here and ask to see you, you can evoke counsel again."

"You want to talk to me about what happened tonight?" she asked warily.

"Related to it, but no. Not exactly."

Sarah considered the idea. Was it worth it to make sure there was no record of her calling Nelson and Murdock? She couldn't exactly try her luck with a public defender; she'd never be able to explain her situation.

"Okay," Sarah agreed, pushing her hair behind her ear. "If you call Foggy, I'll waive my...whatever."

Mahoney glanced behind him at the large window, then pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

"Hey. I got a client for you," he said when the other end of the line picked up. "Sarah Corrigan." He listened as Foggy replied with what Sarah assumed was confusion. "Yeah, your guess is as good as mine. You want to get down here and let the front desk know you're offering to represent her?" Foggy must have agreed—thankfully—and Mahoney hung up.

So now he'd done his end of the deal, and she had to uphold hers. She had to admit she was curious; what did he want to talk to her about so badly if not what had happened to Mrs. McDermott?

Mahoney reached for the yellow legal pad that had been conveniently placed on the table, presumably on the off-chance that Sarah might be in the mood to write a full confession unprompted.

"You know, I've had a lot of thoughts in my head lately, and I've found it helps to write them down," he said. "I made a kind of chart, actually. I'll show you."

He drew a small box in the middle of the page, then six ovals branching out around it.

"Here's a few of the things I've been thinking about. The first one, obviously: Aaron McDermott and his mom," Mahoney said, writing McDermott in one of the ovals. "Donovan," he said, filling in the second oval. "Orion." The third oval. "Ronan Greenfield." The fourth. "And of course...Nelson and Murdock," he finished, scrawling N&M in the fifth oval. Both the sixth oval and the square in the middle were still blank. "Do you know what all these thoughts all have in common?"

Sarah just looked at him, a sense of dread stirring in her chest.

Unsurprisingly, he wrote her name in the middle box.

"That's a lot of different things all leading back to you."

She tried to appear unruffled as she looked down at the legal pad.

"What's in the last oval?" she asked.

Mahoney gave her a pointed look, then scrawled a single word in the circle: Daredevil.

"The vigilante," Sarah said neutrally. Internally, her heart was possibly going to beat out of her chest.

"Yeah. You know, I actually get along with him better than a lot of guys on the force, but he's handed my ass to me enough times that I'm real familiar with what his mask looks like," the sergeant told her. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, though they were alone. "Enough so that I recognized it right away when I found it outside your apartment the night you got attacked."

"I...don't know anything about that," she said.

Mahoney wasn't fazed by her denial. He rested the tip of his pen on the box surrounding her name.

"This little diagram actually gets pretty crazy if you really look at it. For instance...we found Donovan beat half to death outside your apartment..." he said, drawing another line from her name to Donovan, then over to Ronan's name. "...supposedly by your coworker Ronan Greenfield, who died from the same kind of tranquilizer that we think was used on Cheryl McDermott tonight. Donovan was McDermott's partner, and right next to him is where I found Daredevil's mask." He continued drawing lines between ovals to illustrate his point. "You and Ronan both worked at Orion, which was owned by Fisk, who's in prison thanks to Daredevil and...your lawyers. Nelson and Murdock."

Looking down at the web of lines crisscrossing the page, Sarah started to feel a little dizzy. Sergeant Mahoney had figured out pretty much all of the pieces, and while he might not know everything, he certainly seemed to understand that she was at the center of it all.

"Why are you giving me all this information?" she asked. There was a slight shake to her voice. "Shouldn't this...be on a whiteboard with red string somewhere?"

"Because things don't add up. When Ronan Greenfield died from a tranquilizer overdose, I remember thinking it sounded familiar. I remembered a teenage girl who was brought to the hospital a few months ago. Took three of those darts to the chest, and they nearly killed her. And I remembered you coming in and talking to Donovan and McDermott about it. But when I tried to look it up, it's like it never happened. No records of that girl being in the hospital, no records of you being questioned. Nothing."

Was that why he was telling her this? He couldn't get any answers from his own police department, so he was hoping she would just make it easier and implicate herself? Sarah knew very well why there were no records of her being here: because Donovan and McDermott hadn't actually been questioning her on behalf of the NYPD. They'd been questioning her so they could report back to Jason, and they'd done a good job of covering their tracks afterwards. The only lucky thing was that they apparently hadn't thought it was worth reporting to Jason who her lawyers had been.

"So...what are you trying to say, exactly? What's the point of making all these connections?" she asked.

"Good question. I guess figuring out all these connection has made me realize what I really need to take a closer look at...is you. So far all I know is that you made a good living as a pianist until last year, when you suddenly started working at Orion in a lower paying secretarial job. I know you recently signed paperwork to transfer your father into an assisted care facility that's way above your income level. And I know that despite being the most annoying lawyers in the city, Nelson and Murdock usually only take on clients who they think are innocent—or, at the very least people who are getting a harsher punishment than they deserve. It's rare for them to represent someone who's tangled up in this much organized crime. But they do have a history of trying to undermine said organized crime by digging up dirt. Previously with the help of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen."

Sarah didn't say anything. So, he thought she was working for Nelson and Murdock? Or for Daredevil? Or both?

"It's possible that you're just a girl who's consistently been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and gotten mixed up in a whole lot of death and destruction. But...if someone is paying you to help build a legal case against Orion? You all need to be very, very careful. Because that is a bad idea. You know what happened to the last person who helped those lawyers and that vigilante get information about Fisk and his dealings? His name was Ben Urich, and he ended up dead."

Sarah stared at him, completely thrown by how easily he had almost everything figured out considering he'd also only interacted with her a handful of times.

There was a knock at the door, and then a police officer poked her head in.

"Her representation's here, Sergeant," she said.

"Send them on in," Mahoney told her.

The office opened the door wider and Foggy stepped inside. The sight of him didn't give her the sense of calm that Matt's presence would have, but it was a relief to have him there all the same.

"Brett! Come on, man. Talking to my clients before I get here? You know better than this."

Mahoney sat back in his seat with his hands up. "She said it was alright."

Foggy turned his attention to her, looking exasperated but not particularly surprised. "Sarah! You know better than this."

"Sorry."

"Handcuffs? Really? What is it with you guys?"

"You know the rules, Foggy. She got charged with resisting arrest, so the handcuffs have to stay on," Mahoney said. To his credit, he at least sounded apologetic about it. "Where's your better half?"

"He has court. We're a busy firm these days. Can you give us the room for a few minutes?" Foggy asked the sergeant.

Mahoney got up from his chair. "Sure. Take your time. My guess is, they're not going to charge her until it's almost to the deadline."

"Thanks for the heads up," Foggy said.

Sarah sat up straighter as Mahoney reached for the doorknob.

"Uh, wait, Sergeant Mahoney?" Sarah said. Mahoney turned around. "Just...please don't leave that piece of paper laying around anywhere."

He gave her a long, hard look, then nodded.

"Yeah. Okay."

After Mahoney left, Foggy raised his eyebrows.

"What piece of paper?"

Sarah hesitated. She was never quite sure how much information to let Foggy in on; she wanted him to help her stay out of jail, but she didn't want to make him the keeper of a bunch of incriminating information.

"It's...nothing," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Just some ideas he had."

"...alright. Well, let's jump right into things, then," Foggy said. He flipped open a folder in front of him. "You've kind of stepped in a lot of shit, here."

"I figured."

"Don't get upset, because I really have to ask...did you have anything to do with...what happened to her?"

Sarah shook her head adamantly. He really had to ask that?"

"No. I found her like that."

"Okay. And I'm assuming the reason you were randomly in her home has something to do with your, uh...job," Foggy said.

"Jason wanted me to bribe Mrs. McDermott to stop talking to the media about her son's death," Sarah explained. "I was supposed to give her five thousand dollars today as a kind of...down payment? And then more payments would come as long as she kept quiet."

"Bribery. Okay...not the best reason to be there, but not the worst," he said, looking down at the papers in the folder. "What happened after you got there?"

"The front door was open a little. It didn't...feel right. So, I went inside, and when I went into the kitchen I saw her on the floor."

"Did you touch anything? Move anything?"

"I moved her onto her side so she wouldn't choke, and pushed aside some broken glass. And I used her house phone to call 911."

"Okay, okay," Foggy murmured, concentrating on whatever he was reading. "Uh...this resisting arrest charge. What's that about?"

Sarah winced.

"I...I didn't think he was really a cop," she admitted. "I know it sounds dumb, but he wouldn't show me his badge, and he wasn't wearing a uniform, and they showed up so much quicker than I thought they would..."

"Probably because they were watching the house. I'd bet they've had a detail on Mrs. McDermott since she went public, to make sure no one..." Foggy trailed off.

"...stabbed her in the chest with a tranquilizer dart? Well, they did a shitty job, because someone did. Just—not me," she clarified hastily.

"So, what happened when the police showed up? You tried to run?"

"No! No, I just kept asking to see his badge, and he was acting all twitchy and telling me to stop asking questions, and then he wanted to put handcuffs on me and I wouldn't let him, and..." Sarah leaned forward as something occurred to her. "I never hung up the phone."

"What?"

"I used her house phone to call an ambulance, and I never hung up, I just set it down. I don't know if the operator hung up or not, but if not then maybe my conversation with the cops might be recorded somewhere?"

"Excellent. I'll look into that," Foggy said, scribbling something on his notepad. "Now, what about—"

They were interrupted when the door to the interrogation room opened and Karen Page stepped inside.

Sarah blinked in surprise. "Oh—Karen. Hi."

"Right. I meant to mention that Karen would be joining us. She was just...'getting something from the vending machine'," he said, putting a strange emphasis on his words.

Karen caught sight of Sarah's quizzical frown.

"He means I was eavesdropping," she explained, taking a seat next to Foggy.

"Technically, the legal firm of Nelson and Murdock does not support eavesdropping on the police and would not participate in any such activities," Foggy said, wielding his pen at Sarah. He turned to Karen. "That being said, what did you find out?"

"Is she alive?" Sarah interjected. "Mrs. McDermott?"

"She's alive, but...it sounds like it's touch-and-go right now," Karen said. "They took her to Metro General to try to get her stabilized. "

Sarah closed her eyes as a faint wave of guilt swept through her.

"They think they know what kind of tranquilizer it was, which is helpful for the doctors," Karen continued. "I guess someone's been selling these darts all over Hell's Kitchen, and they're notorious for having unpredictable levels of sedative in them. Sometimes four or five will barely have an effect on a person, and sometimes just one will make someone overdose. They haven't had time to test it to be sure, but they're assuming it's the same stuff they've been running into."

"You found all that out just now? At the...vending machine?" Sarah asked.

"Karen's sleuthing skills put Nancy Drew to shame," Foggy said, giving Karen a fond look.

Sarah raised her eyebrows. Apparently whatever bump Matt's secret had created in their relationship had been smoothed out. For her part, Karen did a good job of hiding her pleased smile at Foggy's praise, instead choosing to continue her info unload.

"I also caught the name of her arresting officer. Cavanaugh," Karen said, raising her eyebrows at Foggy as though the name should be significant.

Apparently it was, as Foggy's face lit up.

"Cavanaugh? That'll be a huge help to your case."

"Why?"

"That dude's crazy. He has about two dozen complaints for excessive force, unlawful arrest, searching without a warrant, you name it. The department tries to keep him out of the public eye, generally. A real nightmare for their PR. The only reason he's still an officer is because he has family in the DA's office, but they only have so much sway. And it's great for you, because his history of poor police work will make it easier to get your charges thrown out."

"You think that'll happen? They'll get thrown out?"

"That's what we're aiming for. It'll just depend on what they actually bring against you."

"Why are the waiting to charge me?" Sarah asked.

"They're probably trying to get a search warrant for your place first," Foggy said. "It's unlikely they'd be able to, but just in case they do...you don't have anything incriminating in your apartment, right?"

Sarah bit her lip, her gaze flicking from Foggy to Karen.

"Um."

"...do you?" Foggy prompted with some chagrin.

"No. Well, sort of. I have the same kind of tranquilizer she was poisoned with on a shelf in my closet? And, um, and also a cell phone that belonged to her son, in—in the same hiding spot. And...a bunch of surveillance photos with her face circled in them. They're in my desk at home." Sarah paused, chewing her lip as her gaze flicked from Foggy to Karen and back. "Is—is that...bad? That's bad, right?"

The silence after her question was deafening.

"...what?" Foggy asked.

"But I didn't take the photos," she said. "I just...have them."

"Well, possession is nine tenths of going to jail," Foggy hissed.

"I also have, like...three more stun guns in my apartment," she added. "If that matters."

"Is this a joke? Did you have Brett call me down here as some weird prank?"

Sarah winced.

"Not a joke. I'm sorry."