‘If you’d done your job like I told you,’ Baird said furiously, ‘we could have waited. But now those guys know we’ve come this way. We’ve got to get out quick.’
‘I couldn’t help it…’ Rico said, wringing his hands.
‘Shut up!’ Baird exclaimed. ‘Get the money!’
Rico staggered over to his suitcase. As he fumbled with the locks, Noddy said sharply, ‘Hold it!
Leave it alone! I’ll take it as it is.’ He had a gun in his hand, and it pointed at Baird. ‘I’m going to have more than five grand for this job. Make a move, and I’ll give it to you in the guts!’
III
Rico remained like a statue, looking helplessly at Baird. There were seven thousand dollars in cash in the suitcase: every nickel he owned. His hand gripped the handle of the case convulsively. He had warned Baird, and now this pigeon-chested double-crosser would take the money and shoot them.
Baird stood very still, his eyes on Noddy’s gun. His face was expressionless, but the muscle below his right eye was twitching.
‘Turn around,’ Noddy said, ‘then shed your rod. Drop it on the floor. Don’t try anything funny. I’m a dead shot at this range. Go on! Turn around!’
Baird turned. Slowly his right hand went inside his coat and pulled out the Colt. Rico saw him softly thumb back the safety-catch.