If it rained, there would be no baiting that day.
One morning near the end of the season, Morse and Figliomeni left the Kalbarri Motor Hotel on the remote western coast of Australia, where they dined on steak and shellfish the night before, and drove along the squally coastline. They awoke next to the remains of a campfire or, occasionally, in a roadside motel, and in the darkness before dawn they began unloading poisoned sausage from their refrigerated truck. In the deep winter weeks of last July, Shane Morse and Kevin Figliomeni nearly always got up before the sun rose.
