‘What’s the matter with you?’ he demanded in a loud, bul ying voice. ‘Been drinking?’
Baird groped down by his side. His fingers closed around the butt of the Colt. He leaned against the car door, peering up at the cop’s red, angry face.
The cop flashed a fight on Baird. He caught his breath sharply.
‘Jeepers! What the hel ’s the matter with you? You ill?’
‘Yeah,’ Baird gasped. ‘But I’l be al right. Just leave me alone, wil you? I’m going to see a friend of mine. She’l take care of me.’
‘You ain’t fit to drive,’ the cop said. ‘What’s happened to you to get into this state?’
‘Infected arm,’ Baird told him. ‘I’l be okay if you’l leave me alone.’
‘You’re not going to drive another yard. Move over. I’m going to take you to hospital,’ the cop said, and pulled open the car door.
Baird, who was leaning against the door, nearly fell into the road, but the cop caught hold of him and lifted him upright. Baird pushed the Colt into the cop’s stomach and pul ed the trigger twice.
The roar of the gun hit Baird like a physical blow. He had to grab hold of the door to save himself from falling out of the car.