A Stranger In the House of Ayer

Essex Street Associates has now spent nearly two years selling off whatever of Doorly’s assets it could, including the Gulfstream. It’s put Adam’s Boston condo on the market, too. If that sells at its asking price, the Ayers stand to make nearly $40,000 more than what they unknowingly paid for it, which isn’t a bad investment. They’ve so far recovered about $8 million, which will remain in an escrow account while the Doorly and Ayer lawyers prepare for a trial that could come in a matter of months. Meanwhile, the U.S. Attorney’s Office is reviewing the evidence and considering its options.

There was a time when Jack Doorly’s talent for reinvention might have impressed even Frederick Ayer. He’d done better than anyone could have predicted—a college dropout who’d earned the respect of an important and powerful family and the ability to provide for those around him. But then, still unsatisfied, he fashioned himself into something else altogether. And now the beneficiaries of his largesse are all gone. Sarah Hunt cut off her relationship with Doorly around the time he claimed in court papers that his checks to her were merely loans. His son, Adam, decided against moving back to Massachusetts, and Doorly’s wife, who learned of his affair through court filings, divorced him in June, on the eve of their 34th anniversary. All three are named in the Ayers’ suit. All three have maintained that they were deceived as well.

Today, Doorly’s ambition has deposited him in a cheap one-bedroom apartment in Peabody, not far from where he grew up. It’s a red brick building, indistinguishable from a dozen others in a complex that stretches along Route 128. He’s got no view to speak of. Doorly’s unit looks out on a steady current of cars—on people speeding from where they’d been toward where they want to be.