Castor came off the floor and began to tell the group what great feedback he had gotten from many senators as he finished. He had really, he felt—and so many senators confirmed this—done what he had to do.

“Why did he say I’m giving a scholarly view of the jurisdictional question? That’s not what I’m doing,” said a morose Schoen as he went out, indignant that his time had been cut short.

The grim team headed back to their meeting room at the Trump International.

Trump continued to call in. He got Justin Clark on the phone and told Clark to tell Castor he was no longer allowed to speak, with Clark and an incensed Castor suddenly facing off.

But the president’s aides suddenly feared that van der Veen might pack up and go back to Philadelphia with Castor, leaving them only with the hapless Schoen.

The basic politics remained: if they made the minimal effort, the Republicans would hold, and the Senate would acquit. No one could quite game out what would happen, though, if it became clear that they could not rise even to a minimally proficient effort. (Although there was, too, the thought that reasonable people might conclude that this was just more proof that you obviously couldn’t hold Trump responsible for executing on anything, much less an attack on the U.S. Capitol.)

By the next morning, Trump still wasn’t able to get off the issue of Castor’s suits. “Al Capone. He’s Al Capone. Those are Al Capone’s suits. Do something about those suits.”

In college, Miller had worked at Wm. Fox & Co., a haberdashery in Washington on G Street. Before Castor was even down for breakfast, Miller had the owner bring over everything they had in navy and gray in a size forty-eight.

“You’re making me change how I dress?” said a wounded Castor.

“This is Washington, DC,” said Miller, “you can’t wear gangster pinstripes,” and he got van der Veen, the senior partner, to write a four-thousand-dollar check to the clothing store.

They returned, glumly, to the Senate Chamber.

Wednesday and Thursday were entirely the Democrats’ days, with ever-more-vivid video of the January 6 attack, while Trump’s circle tried to figure out what they were going to do. It was now an open question about who would deliver the presentation, Trump’s basic defense, on Friday. As invulnerable as Donald Trump should have been, there was a sinking sensation that the legal team could actually find a way here to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

Trump suddenly decided he wanted Schoen to take over everything—but Schoen was now resisting, saying, in the middle of the most important trial of his life, he really didn’t know the case.

“You should let Castor do it—he has a whole firm. It’s just me and my son.”