Smith had been wearing that same damned gray vested suit.

He wore a black vested suit, white shirt, gray tie printed with tiny black dots.

He was wearing a dark blue vested suit.

Another vested suit, this one lead-heavy loden green, bunched up around the shoulders.

Shapiro looked more at ease: he had his vested suit and his briefcase.

The men are in vested suits.

Like the man who stood before him now in his pinstriped, vested dark suit, an alligator briefcase at his side.

He wore vested suits with small bowties and, occasionally, in his lapel, a fake flower made of feathers.

He always looked the same: the Harvard Law School graduate in the vested three-button dark suit.

He wore the dirty remnants of what had been an expensive gray vested suit; there were spatters of blood on his shirt.