In the end, Tom Seymour accepted his fate with dignity. It was a stunning autumn day in Sydney as the head of PricewaterhouseCoopers, flanked by his loyal lieutenants, stepped onto the company yacht at Barangaroo wharf, an industrial meat grinder strapped to the starboard side. As they motored out past Sydney Heads, a sense of calm overcame him. He knew his kids would be looked after.

Whether you join an organised crime family or a legitimate professional services partnership, you agree to do other people’s time. And what a way to go. Finally, Tom found out what accountability really means. There was honour at the end.