BRENNAN AND HUNTER HADN’T BEEN TO TAYLOR WOOD & West since they were kids. Neither of them remembered the offices. The receptionist led them to a conference room with dark wood paneling and a massive, polished table. Hunter reclined in one of the chairs, dressed in jeans and a black sweater. Brennan stood at the window in a gray suit. Beyond the window, Manhattan stretched away in ordered, dark buildings and chaotic lights beneath a formless sky.
Walter Roberts opened the door without knocking and strode over to Brennan. Walter was in his late sixties but looked older. The combover he attempted did little to conceal his severely receding hairline.
“Brennan!” he said warmly, shaking her hand. “It’s good to see you.”
Walter stared at Hunter for a moment before reaching out to shake hands. “And you, I haven’t seen you since you were a boy.”
Walter stepped back and stared at Hunter. “You look exactly like him.”
Hunter shrugged, uncomfortable with the comparison.
“Thank you for meeting with us,” Brennan said, as they sat around the table. “Friday evening, you must want to get home.”
“Anything for John’s kids,” Walter said. “What did I tell you, Bren? First time I ran into you in that deposition? What were you, a year out of law school?”
Brennan remembered the day, before she became a prosecutor, when she was an associate at another Wall Street firm, sitting at a long table full of lawyers, a court reporter, and some witness she didn’t recall. She was nervous that it was her dad’s old firm on the other side of the matter. After the deposition, Walter pulled her aside and told her he’d been friends with John.
“You said my dad would be proud I was following in his footsteps,” Brennan said. “That I should let you know if I needed anything.”
Walter smiled. “The offer still stands. You probably don’t need advice or help from an old man anymore, but say the word, and we can grab some drinks and figure out how you can take over the world.”
Then his smile fell away, and he said, “I heard about your mother. I know we lost touch over the years, but we knew a lot of the same people. Is she hanging in there? I heard she left her firm.”
“She’s fighting,” Brennan said.
Walter nodded sympathetically and said, “So, how can I help you two?”
“It’s not much more than I explained on the phone,” Brennan said.
“We’re just trying to find some information on our father. We didn’t ever get to know him really. With our mom sick, it just reminded us of how little we know our parents. Really, how little anyone knows their parents,I guess. So it would be good to hear about him, you know?”
Walter leaned back in his chair. “I understand. I can’t imagine how tough it was for you kids. Your dad was my closest friend here. We started together and…I think, you know, it was hard for him to fit in here. We’re obviously much better about that stuff now, everyone is, but back then, the things people would say.”
“You don’t have to explain,” Brennan said.
Hunter nodded. They’d both heard their share of racist comments.
“Your dad, he was brilliant. They really had no choice but to make him a partner. And he was a little tornado. The old guard, they didn’t want to take him seriously, but he didn’t let it get him down.”
“Did he have other friends here?” Brennan asked.
“I hate to say it, but other than me, not really. He went to office parties. But he was distant with people. He’d chat with you if you were working on a project, but he wasn’t inviting guys out for drinks after. You know the type, right?”
Hunter leaned forward. “What about the women?”
Brennan shot her brother a look, then redirected. “Sounds like he was lonely.”
Walter glanced between the siblings for a moment before answering Brennan. “I don’t remember him that way.”
“He must’ve been friends with Jessica DeSalvo, though,” Hunter said.
Walter nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Can you tell us about her?”
Walter shrugged. “Isn’t that an awkward question? I mean…”
“A little awkward,” Hunter said, “but we’re adults and you knew both of them, right? We just want to understand him better. Can you tell us what she was like?”
Walter looked down at his hands, hesitating. Brennan slowed her breathing. It felt like Hunter was rushing, and she sensed Walter raising his guard. But Brennan resolved to trust her brother—interviewing people was his job.
“I worked with her sometimes. I can’t remember if your father did, but the firm was smaller then. You sort of knew everyone. I mean, it was a different time, too. It’s embarrassing to admit, but affairs like that weren’t uncommon. I was oblivious to that stuff. Honestly, it didn’t even register to me that something might be going on between them.”
Brennan leaned forward. “What was she like?”
“Jess was a good litigator. Smart. People gravitated to her. She was very engaging in a conversation. It was tough losing her like we did. The both of them. A really sad chapter for the firm. And me, personally. I was friends with them both. I try not to think about it.”
“Do you know how she became involved with my dad?” Brennan followed up.
“No.” Walter sat back in the chair and looked between Brennan and Hunter. “She had a lot of friends here. Not to be insulting, but you know, maybe she felt bad for him.”
“Why?” Hunter asked.
“Because he was an outsider.” Walter finished his water and stood up. “I should get back to work.”
As they walked to the door, Brennan asked, “If any of the other partners who knew him are still around, we’d love to get a chance to talk to them, too.”
“Most of them have retired. I’m getting close myself, not that you can tell,” he said and laughed.
“What about Jess?” Hunter asked. “You said she had lots of friends. Any of them still around?”
Walter crossed his arms and thought for a moment. “I can’t think of anybody. It was a long time ago. I mean, it doesn’t feel like it. But then I think about how much has happened since. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.”