They were closing in on Carter Page. It was the last day of November, and the onetime adviser to Donald Trump’s campaign was dodging the tourists who clotted the sidewalks around Rockefeller Center and its famous Christmas tree. As Page wove his way through the holiday crowd, he talked about his troubles, raising his voice to be heard above a Salvation Army bell-ringer. “Anybody who knows me knows how ridiculous the whole thing is,” he lamented to me and everyone else within earshot along Fifth Avenue.