He would go to prison, and he would go for a long time.

And Julian would be a financial consultant who had, regrettably, been misled by his wife’s reckless younger brother.

He had insulated himself with the same patient care he brought to everything.

He had made my brother the fuse and kept himself the hand that would never be anywhere near the match when it was struck.

I thought about the questions Jim had asked six months ago, the ones I’d dismissed as curiosity, and I understood now that they had been the questions of a man already in over his head, reaching for someone he trusted, not knowing that the someone he trusted was the one holding him under.

Julian had not answered Jim’s questions.