Chapter 20: Payday

The cold-storage plant stood at the end of the east pier, with its refrigeration units long dead and frost still stuck in the corners.

Corvin had put the post in the middle of the floor.

It was a steel support column with a ring bolted at head height, and the men stood around it in a loose horseshoe.

Over twenty men filled the shadows.

Bram was on the iron balcony above the loading dock, in shadow, with his hands on the rail.

He had not moved since I came in, and he would not until I said.

"Sparrow," said Corvin, from the foot of the column. "On time."

He was in the long black coat, with the whip coiled in his left hand and an envelope of cash in his right.

"I brought the notebook," I said.

I took it out of my coat and held it up for the room to see.

"Good. Give it to me."

"After."

A few of the men shifted.

"After you've paid them," I said. "You told them they'd be paid in full tonight. I want to see it."

Corvin smiled.

"She insists on being seen," he told them. "A girl who ran from the family, coming back to pay her respects."

He opened the envelope and began to count out bills, a thin stack for each man.

Each man took his, looked at it, and tucked it into his jacket without a word.

I waited until the last one had been paid.

Then I took off my coat, laid it on a crate, and walked to the post.

I put both hands on the ring, high up.

The steel was bitterly cold.

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