The estate’s counsel asked the court to narrow discovery and exclude certain banking materials.
Robert’s firm opposed some of the restrictions because the acquisition’s legitimacy now depended on understanding the seller’s history.
For the first time, the billionaire and Samuel were formally aligned on an issue without pretending their interests were identical.
I attended a hearing where lawyers debated access to records I had never seen.
The judge approved a phased review designed to limit unnecessary disclosure while preserving relevant materials.
Afterward, a man approached Naomi in the hallway and introduced himself as Daniel Pike, Edwin’s adult son.
He said he had spent years trying to reconcile his father’s public reputation with the disorder he found in the estate.
He had not worked in the consulting business and did not claim to know whether the transfer was legitimate.
He had discovered a file of correspondence his father maintained separately from ordinary company records.
Daniel offered to have his counsel review those letters for lawful disclosure.
Naomi thanked him and avoided treating his willingness as proof of wrongdoing.
I was struck by how tired he looked.
The case had made his family name a headline, but he was not responsible for every choice his father made.
He asked whether Miriam Carter had left surviving family.
I told him I was her daughter.
He looked at me with genuine surprise.
“My father mentioned her once,” he said.
“He said she was the person who kept asking the same question until everyone else had to answer it.”
I asked whether that memory came from admiration or resentment.
Daniel gave a sad smile.
“Knowing him, probably both.”
The encounter made the investigation feel less like a contest between heroes and villains.
Some people carried benefits from earlier wrongdoing without understanding their source.
Others carried shame without having participated in it.
The evidence still mattered, and no family’s discomfort could replace accountability.
But neither could suspicion alone determine guilt.
That evening I called Esther and told her about Daniel Pike’s approach.
She said she remembered Edwin arriving at meetings with his young son in tow.
The boy had colored quietly while adults argued about money.
“He shouldn’t have to inherit every argument,” she said.
I agreed, although I hoped he would help us understand what happened.
The following week his counsel provided a catalog of correspondence preserved from the estate.
One folder was marked Common Table, Final Votes.
Naomi requested production of the relevant pages.
We were closer to the center of the dispute than we had been on the morning I bought Samuel breakfast.
