‘This is Baird,’ Rico said, corning forward. His smile was ingratiating, and he gave Kile a little bow.
‘I told him you wanted to see him, and that you might have something you could put in his way.’
Kile nodded curtly to Baird, who continued to stare with cold, unfriendly eyes. He wasn’t impressed with Kile. A rich, well-fed sonofabitch, he decided, soft at the core and jumpy. Not anyone you’d want to trust further than you could throw him.
‘Sit down,’ Kile said, waving to two armchairs. He was aware that he hadn’t made an impression, and that irritated him. ‘Whiskies, Philip,’ he said to the Filipino boy, ‘and then get out.’
The boy put a tray containing whisky, charge water and ice on the table.
‘I’ll mix them,’ Rico said. ‘Baird?’
Baird shook his head. He dug out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, fished one out, stuck it on his lower lip and sat down in an armchair. He glanced across at Eve, who was still looking out of the window, her back turned to him. He allowed his eyes to run over her figure, paused for a moment or so on her neatly turned ankles, and then struck a match with his thumb nail and lit the cigarette.
As soon as the Filipino boy had left the room, Kile said, ‘Miss Gil is is interested in this proposition I want to talk to you about.’ He hadn’t missed the searching look Baird had given Eve. ‘Eve, won’t you come over here and join us?’
She turned and looked at Baird. What she saw in the brooding eyes chilled her. She left the window seat and came over to stand near Kile.
Rico bowed elaborately.