A cooperating witness there.

A forensic reconstruction of a transaction he’d thought was buried under six shell companies, laid out in a form a judge could read in an afternoon.

Each piece was small, and legal, and boring, and unstoppable, and each one closed off one more of his exits, until the man who had always been able to move faster than consequences woke up one morning to find that consequences had quietly surrounded the building in the night.

That is the thing I would tell anyone who has been wronged by someone powerful and is tempted toward the satisfying, useless heat of confrontation: do not fight them where they are strong, in the arena of charm and nerve and money.