Ask Greg. Ask Max. Ask the others too—the ones whose reputations now require so much careful upholstery and scented air.
Ask them what they were doing in 2014, before the money acquired its respectable costume, before everyone discovered morality as a late-career accessory. Ask them about the island. Ask them who was there. Ask them whom they met. Ask them what was discussed. Ask them why the memory, so vivid when useful, becomes suddenly consumptive when inconvenient.
Do not accuse. That would be vulgar.
Simply ask.
There is no instrument of torture quite so elegant as a well-placed question. It requires no shouting, no theatre, no melodrama. Merely place the inquiry before them like a silver knife beside the fish course and watch which hand trembles first.
For men of this sort are never afraid of lies. Lies can be managed, polished, improved, endowed, footnoted, and served to the public with a little parsley. What they fear is chronology. Dates are terribly ill-bred things. They refuse to flatter. They sit there, plain and stubborn, while clever men perspire around them.
So ask them about 2014.
Ask them before they began presenting themselves as guardians of virtue, stewards of progress, philosophers of the public good, or whatever other inexpensive costume ambition found hanging in the charity shop of institutional respectability.
Ask them about the visit.
Ask them who opened the door.
Ask them who was already inside.
Ask them who they recognised.
Ask them who recognised them.
Ask them what they thought they were doing there.
Then be quiet.
Silence is underrated. It gives cowards room to decorate themselves. Some will laugh too quickly. Some will become legalistic. Some will become offended, which is always the most economical substitute for innocence. Some will suddenly discover the sanctity of privacy, having spent years treating everyone else’s life as raw material for their own ascent.
And then, having asked, do not help them. Do not soften the question. Do not provide the exit. Let them build their own little ladder out of denials, evasions, qualifications, and that most exquisite modern material: reputational concern.
One should never interrupt a man while he is composing his own indictment.