Think of the Devil

Twenty-Seven

There could be no expectations for a situation like this. Still, Jane found herself in a constant state of surprise the further along they got.

It took less than ten minutes to ride from the shop to the Presidential Hotel. Protesters still gathered in front to rally against Fisk's release from prison into the luxury penthouse above them. She was grateful to see them, though she wasn't sure how thrilled they'd be to see her. The SUV drove by them all, turning around the back of the building and into a parking structure. When the car came to a stop near the entrance to the hotel, the door was opened by an awaiting man in another suit. The humid air held a familiar smell, one that was only familiar to her because of Matt's memories.

Jane slipped out, but Manning and his guard stayed behind. He tipped his head towards her with a small wave before the new suit shut the door and the SUV took off. "Miss Cayce, right this way," he greeted, tone formal, gesturing forward. She offered a nervous but polite smile.

The lobby of the hotel was lavish, high ceilings and chandeliers and muted tones all about. Noticeably, it was empty but for some staff wandering around. She tried to get a mental read of the room, but most people were too far away to get a real sense of anything substantial. The suit led her up some stairs and straight to an elevator, where yet another suit stood by. They nodded at each other before she was led into the elevator. She watched as the suit hit a button and took a position in front of the door, almost as if to block her from any kind of escape she might be planning.

The ride took a few moments, needing to rise to the top floor. Upon stepping out, she came to stand in front of a metal detector and two FBI agents. At least Fisk is still being watched, she thought. The agents started explaining the rules, clarifying confidentiality and the security measures in place, patting her down and asking about any possessions she might have. They had to confiscate her lighter and cigarettes. Once she stepped through the metal detector, the suit strode forward and opened the door.

"You can have a seat at the table," he said. "He'll be with you shortly."

Jane nodded, trying to feign a calm that had long since abandoned her. "Thank you," she mumbled. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the penthouse. The door shut almost immediately behind her.

Whatever lingering expectations she might've had were destroyed when she entered. This penthouse was certainly no prison, with expensive furniture and grand light fixtures and flashy art on the walls. Glancing around, she even spotted a staircase to what she could only assume was a lofted bedroom. Everything was immaculate, every design choice catered to someone of a certain tax bracket. She assumed the large dining table was where they were supposed to meet, and her fingers lightly traced over the notepad and pen neatly placed for her.

Taking another look around, she shook her head. The idea that Fisk had been residing in this palace instead of rotting in prison was insulting. Especially when she considered the lengths Fisk was going to discredit and hurt Matt.

Moving towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, Jane took in the view of New York. The penthouse was in such a position that you couldn't really see the people below you. The sky was getting darker as the autumn days grew shorter, as twilight began to settle in. She chewed on her cheek as she looked out, trying to calm her nerves.

What am I doing here? she wondered. What was the plan? What was she supposed to do? What did he want?

Any moment now, the most powerful criminal in the city, maybe even the country, would be in the same room as her. The idea made her already uneasy stomach churn with nausea. Fisk was Matt's worst adversary for many, many good reasons. The man was evil, his schemes and intentions truly wicked. She'd read about him in the news when he'd finally been arrested. The amount of crime he'd committed, the damage he'd done and the lives he'd ruined, it was truly astounding. While she disagreed with Matt's intentions, she understood his rage for the man that the papers called Kingpin.