‘I – I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said defiantly. ‘As if I should want to peep at you.
Would you mind fading away? There isn’t much air in this hole, and I don’t see why I should have to share it with you.’
He studied her, then his eyes shifted to the telephone on her dressing-table and back to her.
‘Watch your step, Toots,’ he said evenly. ‘I shan’t tel you again.’
He gave her another hard, menacing stare that made her feel weak at the knees and went out, closing the door behind him. He walked thoughtfully along the passage to Rico’s office and went in.
Rico glanced up from his desk.
‘Come in,’ he said, pushing back his chair. ‘Lock the door. I’ve got news for you.’
Baird turned the key in the lock, crossed over to the desk and sat down.
‘Don’t yel at the top of your voice,’ he said softly. ‘Someone may be listening in.’
Rico looked startled.
‘What do you mean? Who’s listening in?’
‘Forget it,’ Baird said impatiently. ‘Just keep your voice down. What’s the news?’
His expression puzzled, Rico shrugged his shoulders.
‘You don’t have to worry about this place,’ he said. ‘No one listens in here.’
‘What’s the news?’ Baird repeated.
‘I’ve seen Kile. I told him you’ve looked the ground over and you think you can pull it off. We can go ahead. He’s leaving al the arrangements to us. I’ve five grand to split between us. Pret y good, huh?’
Baird lit a cigarette and stared across the room.
‘What makes you think you rate anything?’ he asked casually. ‘Who’s doing the job – you or me?’
‘We’re both in it,’ Rico said, smiling ingratiatingly. ‘But if that’s the way you feel about it, I’m willing to take two and you three.’
‘Did you find out who the man is?’ Baird asked.
‘Sure. I’ve got al the necessary dope.’ Rico opened a drawer in his desk and took out a big envelope.
‘Don’t you keep that locked up?’ Baird asked sharply.
Rico stared at him.
‘It’s safe enough. No one ever comes into my office when I’m not here. What’s biting you?’
‘Nothing,’ Baird said, flicking ash on to the floor. ‘Who is he?’
‘Paul Hater. Here’s his picture.’ Rico tossed a police photograph across the desk. ‘He shouldn’t be difficult to spot.’
Baird looked curiously at the photograph. Rico was right. Hater would be easy to identify. He was small and thin. His dome of a forehead was accentuated by heavy eyebrows and a balding head. He had deep-set, dark, staring eyes and a livid white scar that ran from his right eye to his mouth. He reminded Baird of the fanatical prison chaplain he had met when he had visited his brother for the first and only time.
‘He looks as if he’s got a screw loose,’ Baird said, tossing the picture back to Rico. ‘He won’t be difficult to spot. When do we start?’
‘Any time we like,’ Rico said eagerly. ‘The sooner the better.’
Baird nodded.
‘And the money?’
Rico tapped the envelope.
‘Plenty more where that comes from.’
‘How do you know?’
Rico laughed.
‘What’s the matter with you? Kile’s a big shot. He’s rol ing in the stuff. He and I have worked together…’
‘How do you know he’s rol ing in it?’
‘How do I know?’ Rico stared. ‘What are you driving at?’
‘Do you imagine Kile’s the top man in this set-up?’
‘Of course he is.’
‘If you’re so sure,’ Baird said, ‘how do you know?’
Rico began to look uneasy.
‘What’s cooking?’ he asked, leaning forward to stare at Baird. ‘Sounds like you’ve found out something.’
‘I’ve found out plenty,’ Baird said. ‘The moment I set eyes on Kile I knew there was something phoney about him. I’ve been digging in his back yard, and does it stink! He owes money everywhere. He hasn’t paid for that big house on Roosevelt Boulevard. He’s hanging on by the skin of his teeth, and isn’t expected to last six months.’
Rico stiffened.
‘You sure?’
