He got dumped at the end.
Trump, though, found out about Cohn’s AIDS, because people knew, and people talked, and he started pulling legal business from Cohn and transferring it to other attorneys—something he did in the USFL matter in March 1985. Cohn couldn’t believe it. After all he had done for Trump? “Donald pisses ice water,” he said, according to Barrett’s book.
“Donald found out about it and just dropped him like a hot potato,” Bell, Cohn’s secretary, told me. “It was like night and day.”
Cohn died August 2, 1986, dishonest to the end, insisting he had liver cancer. The funeral was a who’s who. Mayors and governors and senators and city commissioners. Barbara Walters. Rupert Murdoch. Estee Lauder. It ended with them singing what Cohn had said was his favorite song. “God Bless America.” Trump stood in the back. He hadn’t been asked to talk.
There are no heroes anywhere in the dramatis personae. It's shitheels all the way down.