There was only what he had actually done, laid out in a leather portfolio, about to be handed to a prosecutor.

And I understood, watching him grasp the doorframe, that this was the exact moment his two-year performance finally ran out of road.

For all that time he had been able to keep reality at bay with confidence and charm and the simple fact that no one was checking.

Now someone had checked, and written it all down, and was about to hand it to people whose entire job was to be unmoved by charm.

A prosecutor does not care that your firm cut your commission.