Fisk's estranged wife Vanessa returns to the city to take over the mob and wreak vengeance on those responsible (including - we're predating Shakespeare and headin' into Greek tragedy now - her own son). Only one to escape her wrath is the guy who planned this attack, a midwestern thug named Silke. Seeking asylum with the feds, Silke gives up the one piece of info that is common but unspoken knowledge, among the Kingpin's minions: Daredevil's semi-secret identity. (At one point, speaking to reporter Ben Urich, who uncovered Daredevil's i.d. in the Miller Era, our hero asks, "You think something knows who I am?" Urich's cynical reply: "You mean someone else? Other than me? Oh - and the Kingpin? Foggy? Karen? Spider-Man? Elektra? And every girl you've ever made goo-goo eyes at. . .") This information manages to leak out to the press, and soon lawyer Matt has to cope w./ an army of tabloid reporters camped outside his brownstone - not to mention: the odd rampaging supervillain eager to get a piece of DD. (As the press witnesses this attack, one reporter asks who the baddie is. "Wait," a cameraman sez, "They always tell you their name.")

Blown secret identities plus the fear of same have long been a superhero plot standby. What makes Bendis' take so entertaining is the way we're shown how Murdock has personal, financial & professional stake in keeping his hero i.d. secret. (He faces, for instance, potential disbarment for defrauding the court.) Every major cast member in the Daredevil stock company gets to weigh in on this event, and while some of the allusions may be unclear to readers who haven't been obsessively following this book since 1964, my guess is that most readers'll be able to pick this book up and read it without wishing they'd been provided an annotated edition.

As a writer, Bendis favors long scenes of dialog - particularly sharp in the book's early scenes where Silke is shown gathering allies for his attempted coup of the New York underworld - though once the Murdock news story breaks, some of the face-to-face talks get a bit squishier. (Law partner Foggy spends a lot of time bemoaning Matt's superhero alter ego: understandable, but still pretty soggy.) Perhaps an artist less serious than Maleev could've better pulled off these moments, but all the solemn-faced characters on these black-bordered pages occasionally come across pretty soapy. Perhaps that's unavoidable when you've got a series lead who walks around w./ a cane.