Baird shrugged.
‘That’s not my headache. If Kile can’t make him talk, maybe I’ll take charge of him.’ He stared at Rico for a long second. ‘I could make him spill it. A half a mil ion’s worth taking a little trouble for. I don’t say it’d be easy, but in the end he’d come clean.’
‘Why don’t you do it now?’ Rico asked anxiously. ‘Why hand him over to Kile at all?’
‘Suppose we did know where the stuff was hidden? What good would it do us? We couldn’t get rid of it. Talk sense. Kile’s got an in with this Rajah guy; we haven’t.’
Rico lay down in the boat. His feet were close to Hater’s head.
‘If we don’t pull this off I’m ruined,’ he said miserably. ‘I don’t know what I shall do.’
‘Aw, shut up!’ Baird snapped. ‘Go to sleep. I don’t want to listen to your belly-aching.’
Rico closed his eyes, but he knew he wasn’t going to sleep. He watched Baird through his eyelashes.
Baird stared thoughtfully at Hater while he nursed his aching wrist. His mind made plans.