The pier did not turn red until the very end, where it began to slope down 
steeply toward the river. It had been coated with some kind of grippy stuff so 
his feet wouldn't fly out from under him. He turned around and looked back up 
at the domed court building, searching for a window where he might make out the 
face of Judge Fang or one of his gofers. The family of Chinese was following 
him down the pier, carrying their long bundle, which was draped with garlands 
of flowers and, as Bud now realized, was probably the corpse of a family 
member. He had heard about these piers; they were called funeral piers.