‘Get the Thompson and the Winchester,’ he said. ‘Better bring the suitcase, too.’
Rico floundered up to his knees in the water as he got the guns and case. He climbed up the bank and joined Baird. They lay down in the darkness.
‘The chances are they’ll miss the boat in the darkness,’ Baird said, ‘but if they don’t we’ve got to nail them somehow. They’ll probably have a radio on board…’ He broke off as a light appeared on the river.
A white motor launch came around the river bend with a big searchlight mounted on the bridge. They could make out three figures on the bridge and two others kneeling in the prow with a machine-gun between them. The light was sweeping both banks, and Baird could see at once that the police couldn’t fail to spot the boat.
‘Split up!’ he said urgently. ‘Quick! You go to the left. Use your gun if they start shooting.’
Bending double he ran from where their boat was moored and took shelter behind a tree.
Rico was too scared to move. He flattened down in the long grass and lay still. His hands covered his head.
The beam of the searchlight crept along the bank, reached the boat and then passed on. For a moment Baird thought they had missed the boat, but as he began to relax he heard someone shout, from the bridge and the searchlight swung around and focused on the boat. There was a clanging of a bell and the motor launch went about in a tight circle.
Baird didn’t wait for the police to take action. He opened up with the Thompson. He saw splinters fly from the deck, shifted his aim a little higher. The two men at the machine-gun were blasted off the deck into the river.
Answering fire came from the bridge. Baird again shifted his aim, but the three men had ducked down below the armour of the bridge, and the launch went on at full speed down stream.