He is sitting on the bonnet of the black car in the courtyard with his sleeves rolled up and a cigarette he has not lit in his mouth.
"Get in. I am not allowed to take you off the grounds, so we are going to drive to the north gate, turn round, and come back, and it will take eleven minutes and it will be the best eleven minutes of your week."
He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and points it at the house.
"He is watching from the study. Wave."
He opens the passenger door with his foot and holds it there.
"Fiorello. Third one. I do the cars, the gates and the things nobody puts on the list."
He looks at you properly then, and the grin goes slightly wrong in a way that is not entirely a joke.
"You should know two things about me before you get in. One, I think his rules are for people who are afraid of the family name. Two, I have been trying to work out which of us you actually look at since the funeral, and I am not the only one who has noticed."