“Great, so you can be my co-counsel.” Wiping his mouth, he turns to Lawrence. “If you decide to hire me. I don’t mean to presume.” He stands up. “Sorry, I have to run.”

DeFiore’s reticence throws me. I imagined him having an assassin’s temperament, the kind of guy who’d rip into Diana Holly like an animal.

“You’re hired.” Lawrence also stands up. “We’ll see you at the courthouse in the morning. Should we bring anything? Do anything? Say anything?”

“Say nothing to no one.” On this point, DeFiore is unequivocal. “No one. If you feel compelled to speak up, to clear Billy’s good name, to call for justice—do not. The only time you should talk is with an attorney present. Me or one of my team.” He glances at us. “Got it?”

Nodding, we each shake his hand.

“And Mrs. Quinn?” DeFiore asks.

“No problem,” Lawrence assures him. “I’ll talk to Eleanor tonight.”

We watch DeFiore lumber out. “All due respect, Lar,” I say. “Don’t be so quick to speak for your wife.”

9

THE WORLD OF THE WEALTHY IS SMALL AND CLANNISH. THE Forresters, my biological family, were old-money bankers. CW’s father attended Groton, as had his father, and his father, all the way back to 1884. They donated generously to the school, endowing millions of dollars in scholarships for disadvantaged youths. One such recipient was Lawrence Quinn.

When they met, Lawrence was thirteen, and CW was forty-two. Back then, hazing was rampant at Groton, and Second Formers (eighth graders) were the targets. Lawrence was subjected to ice-cold showers, petty theft, and humiliating pranks that could turn violent. Luckily, the Forresters’ scholarship program included a mentoring component, and CW spent two Fridays a month teaching Lawrence essential life lessons, like how to beat back a bully or tie a perfect Windsor knot. In turn, Lawrence helped CW, a twice-divorced Wall Street wizard, relive his youth. Ultimately, the program worked as intended: Lawrence had a father figure to admire, and CW had an impressionable young man to mold in his own image.

Lawrence and CW’s ad hoc but sincere fraternal connection inspired everything that came next. When Lawrence was in his last year at Columbia, CW introduced him to Eleanor Stockton, who was a senior at Wellesley with his niece, my first cousin Clarey. Sparks ignited, and by graduation, Lawrence had asked Eleanor to marry him with a ring financed by CW. After their wedding, the couple moved into the Stocktons’ historic Valmont home (Eleanor’s parents had retired to Palm Beach), and a few years later, CW married Rachel Richardson and moved into his family home two floors below. Initially, Eleanor and Rachel kept their distance, but soon their lives were enmeshed. Eleanor introduced Rachel to the charity circuit. Rachel helped Eleanor find a speech pathologist. My nanny and the boys’ nanny were second cousins.