The alley behind the Gallus Frame ran down the block to Galena, and across Galena you could see the back of the Carrigan Rooms, with its fire escape and the big painted sign. Parked at the mouth of that alley was a coal truck, an old red Ford with wooden stake sides and SWEENEY FUEL — COAL — BUTTE 2-3471 painted on the door in letters even more faded than Carrigan's. A heavy man in a plaid mackinaw and a cap with the earflaps down was standing beside it, and in front of him, small and gray, with the scarf under her chin, was Johanna Treloar.
Lauren stood with the garbage bag in her hand. It was too far to hear. She watched Johanna take something out of the cardigan pocket and hold it out, and she watched the man in the mackinaw look at it, and shake his head, and say something, and Johanna say something back, and take something else out of her pocket, and hold that out too. The man took it and counted it, licking his thumb, a thin fold of bills, and put it in the front of his mackinaw and climbed up into the cab, and Johanna stood alone in the alley in her cardigan with her bare hands at her sides.
Then she put her gloves back on, and turned, and walked away down Galena toward Montana Street, and was gone around the corner.
Lauren threw the bag in the dumpster. She went back inside, and washed her hands at the sink in the kitchen, longer than she needed to.
"What," said Stevo.
"Nothing," Lauren said. "Do you know a Sweeney? Coal man?"
"Corky Sweeney," Stevo said. "Sure. His dad had the coal yard down on the Flat, by the tracks. Corky still runs a truck, does the old buildings uptown that never converted. There's still a few. Why?"
"I just saw him take money off her. Johanna. In the alley."
Stevo stopped scraping the grill. He turned around and looked at her, with the spatula in his hand.
"How much money?"