I always hated being handed divorce cases when I was a young associate - they weren't solvable by logic or reason, yet that's how I prefer to deal with world. Ugh.
These people are ancient and will probably be wearing diapers in a few years, but the wife is acting as though she's already in them. For God's sake, a billion dollars, and you're still fighting?
Mr. Macklowe can divorce me for a pittance: say, a cool mil?