‘Who’s the guy with the crew haircut?’ he asked, as Schmidt drew himself up and saluted. ‘I haven’t seen him in here before.’
‘Name of Dal as,’ Schmidt told him. He was a giant of a man, with a red, cheerful face and enormous moustaches. ‘Had an introduction from Mr Rhineheart so I let him in.’
Rico nodded.
‘That’s okay. Thought I’d check on him. First time he’s been here, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, sir. He’s a nice guy, but I don’t reckon he’s got much money.’
‘The nice guys never have,’ Rico said, shrugging. ‘Okay, Schmidt. Let me know when Mr Kile arrives. I want to see him tonight.’
He wandered back to the bar and paused to look in. Dallas was talking to a red-head in a green evening dress: one of Rico’s hostesses: a girl named Zoe Norton. Rico nodded his approval when he saw the half bottle of champagne on the table. Zoe wouldn’t rest until she had had the other half: she was a keen saleswoman.
Adam Gillis watched Rico in the mirror. He wondered how he had bruised his face so badly. He wished he knew more about Rico: that Rico was coming up in the world was beyond doubt, but how far would he get? What were his nerves like? Had he the guts for a big job?
When Rico went away, Gillis looked at his wrist-watch and frowned. What could be keeping Eve?
She said she’d be here with Kile at ten o’clock. It was get ing on for eleven now. He wondered if he should phone her, but decided it wouldn’t be safe. Kile might answer. No point in making Kile suspicious at this stage of the game.