I didn't get an invite to the funeral. Which felt right. Vincent Calloway didn't send invites to people who had been useful and then weren't.
His assistant, a girl named Rebecca, called me the next morning. "Michael, I'm sorry. There was a funeral. It was on Thursday. I think five people showed up." Five people. Vincent had been worth an estimated four billion dollars at his peak. He had owned buildings on Fifth Avenue and a house in the Hamptons and a collection of modern art that would have filled the Met's entire twentieth-century...
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