Leonard said, “You wouldn't even have to drop your practice here. The trial won't be more than three weeks. You don't seem particularly

… busy.”

“Why are you pushing so hard on this, Lenny?”

The look Leonard gave him could have been part of the landscape, it was that parched.

Seeley said, “This dream you have about the family. Let it go.”

Leonard looked at his watch. It was a relief to Seeley that his brother now wanted their meeting to be over as much as he did.

“I left the envelope in your office. A paralegal at Heilbrun, Hardy put it together. Everything you need is there-witness list, deposition summaries, Chris Palmieri's number. Ed Barnum's number is there so you can work out the details-your fee, whatever you want. My number, in case you've lost it.”

They walked to the short line of taxis on the corner where two sweeping marble slabs made up the city's Vietnam memorial.

“I didn't say I was going to take the case.”

Leonard reached over and touched the lapel of Seeley's jacket. “Do you still have some good suits you can wear to court?”

Seeley's suit was from Brooks Brothers, like all his others, and no different from what he'd worn for years. He said, “I can remember when you were happy to wear the clothes I grew out of.”

Leonard rested a hand on the open taxi door. “Another thing, Mike. When you get to San Francisco, it's Leonard. Not Len or Lenny. Leonard.”

Leonard Sr. would say the same to anyone who used the diminutive. With their father, though, it was a demand, not a request, and the sanction for disobeying was a vicious pummeling. Seeley wished his brother a safe trip home.

At the time it was built in 1896, a grand birthday cake of granite, brick, cast iron, and terra-cotta tile, the Ellicott Square Building was the largest building in the world.