Dallas joined Olin.
‘What have you got?’ he asked, looking at the body on the stretcher.
‘Hater,’ Olin said. ‘Not much doubt about it. O’Brien here has seen a picture of him.’
Dallas blew out his cheeks.
‘That’s sweet, isn’t it? The only guy in the world who knows where the Chittabad collection is, and he has to croak. Think he told Baird where it was cached before he handed in his pail?’
Olin shrugged.
‘Looks like Baird’s badly hurt. Someone who’s been in that car’s got gangrene. He couldn’t have got far.’
Dallas looked thoughtfully down the street at the gaping crowd. Then he frowned, peered forward, stared, and turning, caught hold of Olin’s arm.
‘I think I can guess where Baird is,’ he said. ‘See that girl in the front row? The one with a scarf over her head.’
Olin looked in the direction.