Page 10 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

Irene drank some more of her whiskey while she recalled the scene in the spa. She nodded once.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m almost sure of it.”

“What makes youalmostsure?”

Irene eyed him warily. “Why are you pushing so hard on this particular subject?”

“Because I think that you have a specific reason to believe that the person who murdered Gloria Maitland was male.” Oliver paused for emphasis. “Perhaps because of what Maitland said to you in that phone call that made you get into a car and drive all the way to Burning Cove to meet her.”

Irene took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Good guess, Mr. Ward. Yes, I have a reason to think that Gloria Maitland might have been murdered by a man.”

“While I’m on a roll, I’m going to make another guess. You didn’t drive all the way to Burning Cove just to pick up a little Hollywood gossip from an aspiring actress. I’m sure you’ve got better sources in Los Angeles. I think you came here for a very specific reason. So I’m going to ask you again, what did Gloria Maitland tell you in that phone call that brought you to this town and my hotel?”

Irene rocked her glass back and forth a little, sending the whiskey into a slow swirl. In the past nine days she had chased too many false leads and run into too many stone walls. She had nothing left to lose.

She set the whiskey glass aside and met Oliver Ward’s unusual eyes.

“I came here to meet Gloria Maitland because she said she had something very important to tell me about Nick Tremayne.”

“The actor?”

Oliver sounded curious but not startled, Irene thought.

“Yes, Mr. Ward, the actor. I’m sure you know him. I believe that he is currently registered here as a guest. Tremayne and Maitland were involved in an affair that ended rather badly, at least from Maitland’s point of view. But I’m sure you know that. The news was in all the Hollywood papers.”

“I never give out personal information on my guests,” Oliver said.

“Yes, you keep mentioning that policy. Look, I’m not asking you to confirm or deny Tremayne’s presence in this hotel. I know he’s here because Gloria Maitland told me that much when she called my office.”

“You think that the other person in the spa tonight was Tremayne.”

It wasn’t a question.

She was on treacherous ground now. Nick Tremayne was under contract with one of the most powerful movie studios in Hollywood. His first film,Sea of Shadows, had been an unexpected hit. His latest,Fortune’s Rogue, had transformed Tremayne from rising talent to box office gold. He was suddenly worth a lot of money to his employers, which meant that they would go to great lengths to protect their investment.

She had been in Los Angeles long enough to know that the men at the top of the big studios ran Hollywood and, by extension, much of the city of Los Angeles. They routinely paid off cops, judges, and assorted politicians. Making an inexperienced reporter from a small-time gossip paper disappear would be no problem at all. She had to be very careful.

The studio execs weren’t the only ones with a vested interest in Nick Tremayne. Oliver Ward made a very good living providing at least the illusion of privacy to his Hollywood clientele. He had every reason to protect guests like Tremayne.

She had probably said far too much already, thanks to the whiskey and the state of her nerves. Time to take a step back.

She managed a steely smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Ward. I wouldn’t dream of implying that I thought Nick Tremayne was the other person in your spa tonight.”

He accepted that statement with equanimity. He had probably seen it coming, she decided.

“I understand your reluctance to confide in me,” he said. “But if you’re telling the truth about what happened this evening, then you might want to reconsider.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because if you are being honest, then I give you my word that we share the same goal.”

“Which is?”

“Finding out who killed Gloria Maitland.”

She went very still. For some inexplicable reason she was inclined to believe him. But she had learned the hard way that her intuition was not to be trusted.

“What happens if it turns out that one of your guests is the killer?” she asked. “A wealthy guest who has powerful connections? One who has every reason to expect you to keep his or her secrets?”