Still she didn’t say anything.
‘Hater was quite a guy,’ Baird went on, half to himself. ‘You wouldn’t believe it to look at him. He hid four million bucks worth of jewellery somewhere. Think of that! Now he’s dead, and no one will ever find the stuff.’
‘You killed him,’ she said, in a cold, flat voice.
‘No. If he’s dead it’s because it was coming to him. I forgot about him, that’s al . You can’t cal that killing a man.’ He put his hand on the door knob. ‘Aren’t you going to open up?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and moved closer to him. She touched the gun. ‘Shal I take this? You won’t need it.’
His fingers tightened on the gun.
‘I might,’ he said. ‘I guess I can manage. Open the door, won’t you?’
She put a key in the lock and pushed open the door.
‘Remember the last time?’ he asked, looking into the shadowy room, lit by the moonlight coming in through the window. ‘Take it.’ He pushed the Thompson into her hands. ‘When I woke up last time you had put my rod by my side. I haven’t forgot en that. You’re the only one I’ve ever met who I can trust.’
He sank down on the bed. ‘I’ve often thought about you and what you did for me. I’ve often thought what you said about kindness isn’t something you buy from a grocery store. I guess you were right.