Baird was right behind him: the big Colt steady in his hand.
‘Get your hands up,’ Baird said softly. ‘One false move’l be your last.’
MacAdam raised his hands.
‘What’s the trouble?’ he asked. ‘I was just going in there…’
‘Shut up!’ Baird said. ‘You don’t fool me. You’ve been tailing me since we left town.’
‘You’re crazy!’ MacAdam said. ‘Now look…’
‘Get over to my car and snap it up!’ Baird said, moving forward.
MacAdam backed towards the Packard.
Rico came hurrying out of the cafe. He stopped short when he saw MacAdam and his knees wilted.
‘Come on! Come on!’ Baird said sharply. ‘Frisk him. He’l be carrying a gun.’
Rico ran his hands over MacAdam as if he were handling a snake. He took from the shoulder holster a .38 police special.
‘Get his wal et,’ Baird went on.
Rico found the wallet, opened it and found MacAdam’s buzzer and licence.
‘A shamus,’ he said bitterly.
‘Yeah,’ Baird said. ‘Okay, brother, do what you’re told and you won’t get hurt. This is where we part company. Where’s your car?’
‘At the end of the street,’ MacAdam said.
‘Let’s take a look at it,’ Baird said. ‘Get going!’
MacAdam walked stiffly down the dark street with Baird at his heels. Rico remained with the Packard. When they reached the Lincoln Baird said, ‘Open the hood and give me the rotor arm. This is as far as you go.’
MacAdam leaned forward and reached for the hood catch.
Baird set himself. He brought the gun butt down on Mac-Adam’s skul , driving him to his knees. He hit him again, then kicked his unconscious body out of his way, lifted the hood and removed the rotor arm.
He left the hood open and MacAdam lying half under the car, and ran back to the Packard.
‘That’s fixed him,’ he said, as he slid under the driving wheel. ‘It’l take him a week to get over that smack. Get Kile?’
Rico nodded miserably. All this violence horrified him, but he was too scared of Baird to protest.
‘He said he’l be at the lodge the day after tomorrow with the dough.’
‘He’l get a slug in the gut if he tries anything funny,’ Baird said, starting the car. ‘Did you tel him to watch out for a tail?’
‘Yes. He didn’t seem to like it.’
‘He’s not supposed to,’ Baird grunted, and sent the car racing along the highway. After a while he went on, ‘This isn’t going to be a picnic. By the time we’ve got Hater we’l have earned every nickel of that half million. This may be a fast buck, but don’t kid yourself we’re not going to earn it.’
Rico, who had no idea what was ahead of him, huddled down in his seat and said nothing.
VIII
There was a drag to Dallas’s step as he walked up the rose-lined path to Purvis’s front door. Before he could ring the bell, the door jerked open and Purvis waved him in.
‘I was hoping you’d come,’ Purvis said, as he led the way into his study. ‘Did you find the girl?’
Dallas flopped down in an easy chair.
‘If you haven’t got a drink in this hole, for the love of Mike give me some coffee,’ he said. ‘I’m about dead on my feet.’
Purvis gave him a sharp look and went over to an electric percolator. He poured two cups of coffee and brought them across the room. He gave Dallas a cup, hesitated, then went to a cupboard and produced a bottle of brandy.
‘This any good to you?’ he asked, a lit le reluctantly.
‘Sure,’ Dal as said, and poured a liberal shot into his coffee. He put the bot le down by his chair, out of Purvis’s reach. He drank some coffee, sighed and poured more brandy into the cup.
‘Did you find the girl?’ Purvis repeated, as he sat down.
‘Baird and Rico kidnapped her,’ Dal as said in a flat, cold voice. ‘They took her to a warehouse out at Pinder’s End and burned her with matches. Then they shot her through the head and chucked her into the river. I got Olin on the job, and the River Police fished her out about forty minutes ago.’
Purvis breathed heavily. His thin, pale face tightened.
‘That’s bad,’ he said. ‘Sure it was Baird?’
‘Yeah. The cops couldn’t find the slug, and he hadn’t left a clue behind him, but I saw him and Rico on the spot minute or so after the shooting.’
