Part 2: The Punisher -

“Justice,” Frank said. The word tasted like ash. “That’s what the courts are for. The ones your money buys.”

“I take forty,” Vaccaro said smoothly. “And I give you something the others can’t. Invisibility. You pay for my memory. I forget every face, every name, every shipment. That’s what you’re buying.” The Punisher - Part 2

Frank Castle sat in the back of a stolen panel van, the smell of gun oil and copper thick in the enclosed space. Before him, a corkboard was plastered with photographs, red string, and newspaper clippings. At the center was a face: Orlando “The Tailor” Vaccaro. “Justice,” Frank said