They carried three thick black binders.

The associates set the heavy binders on my oak table and stepped back toward the door.

Brenda opened her fountain pen cap with a sharp click.

“We pulled the commercial court records all night,” Brenda said.

“Douglas Kingsley has no remaining liquidity.”

I poured black coffee into three ceramic mugs from the carafe on my credenza.

“Show me the exact structure,” I said.

One of the junior associates stepped forward and opened the first black binder.