“He had a radio show.” It was an explanation. She continued, “Hulk sued. He won. The judgment bankrupted Gawker. They’re gone now.

“Follow along. Follow the money. Hulk’s net worth, before he sued, was $8 million. Yet he spent $10 million on legal fees. It turned out that the bills were being paid by Peter Thiel. He’s PayPal and an early Facebook investor. He’s worth $2.3 billion. Gawker had outed him. He went looking for revenge by lawsuit. He found Hulk Hogan and used him to destroy Gawker.

“A mere multimillionaire can’t afford our legal system. Only a billionaire can, and they can use it for their pet peeves. Most of the big money is in the hands of men. We both know it. It’s indisputable. ‘Equal Justice Under the Law,’ is cut into a piece of marble over the entrance to the Supreme Court, but it’s just graffiti. We’re in a system that’s insane. If someone could show me a safe, schoolbook, sane way to battle it, I’d take it. This is a way to redress part of the balance. To find a little bit of justice.”

I thought she was quite mad. A black widow who wasn’t a widow, corporatizing a rage whose source I didn’t know, institutionalizing murder for profit, using a hedge fund to select rich victims and to pay the killers. Perhaps I should have reviled her and marched righteously away. But not until my money had been correctly laundered, transferred to my account, and my mortgage paid off. I said, “I’ll think about it.”

From her reaction, she seemed to think I actually would.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

BLACK RAVEN

“There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,

For I did dream of money-bags to-night.”

SHYLOCK, THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

THE ONLY REALLY GOOD ADVICE I ever got from a politician—that I ever heard from a politician—was from Maurice Hinchey, our congressman from 1993 until 2013. I thought he was a good guy and I liked his politics. He told me, “Never use a chainsaw when you’re tired.”

I have an Austrian stove and two fireplaces. I need a fair amount of wood. I’d neglected that when I was sunk in inertia. Now I knew I was going to keep my home. There was a lot to be done before the snow came. It was a good day, sunny and dry. Cutting, splitting, and stacking are not things to do when the logs are wet, the ground is slippery, and the handles of your tools are slick. I used to be able to do it all day. That was a while ago. After four hours I began to see my body doing careless things so I listened to what Maurice had told me when he had that big bandage on his lower leg.