Page 32 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

“Exactly,” Velma said. “It’s the timing of the break-in that makes me think someone from the studio is responsible. We ran the Maitland story this morning. I got a telephone call warning me off the story a couple hours later. And then, early this afternoon, someone broke into your apartment. It all adds up.”

“You’re right,” Irene said. “Probably not a coincidence.”

There was a small hesitation on the other end of the line.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem damned cheerful for someone who’s just been told that a burglar broke into her apartment,” Velma said.

“I’m looking on the bright side. The studio is clearly nervous. Here’s the good news, Boss. I just concluded a one-on-one interview with Tremayne—at his request, no less.”

“Okay, I’m impressed. I assume he went heavy on the charm.”

“So thick you could have cut it with a knife.”

“Learn anything?”

“When the charm didn’t work, he made some threats. Peggy said that was typical behavior for stars. They figure their studios will take care of them.”

“They’re right,” Velma said, her voice very dry. “If the star is important to the studio’s bottom line. Tremayne is certainly a box office draw now, but he’s no Clark Gable or Gary Cooper. Not yet, at any rate.”

“We’re onto something here. I can feel it.”

“I agree,” Velma said. “The story of a leading man who murdered a lover and the reporter who uncovered the crime could make or break my paper. But we’ve got to get some hard proof before we run any more stories that feature Tremayne’s name.”

“I’m working on it. As a matter of fact, I’ve got an interview scheduled with Luther Pell tonight.”

“Why does that name sound familiar?”

“He owns the Paradise Club here in Burning Cove.”

“Damn.ThatLuther Pell. Be careful. Pell has always managed to keep his hands clean but they say he’s got mob connections from Reno to New Jersey.”

Irene glanced at the storm-filled paintings on the wall. They looked as if they had been inspired by violence.

“Tremayne claims he was at the Paradise Club when Gloria Maitland was murdered,” she said. “I want to find out if his alibi is solid.”

“Pell agreed to talk to you about one of his customers? Got to say I’m damned surprised.”

Irene glanced at the closed door. “Oliver Ward, the owner of the Burning Cove Hotel, told me that Pell was his friend. Ward made the arrangements.”

“That’s even more interesting. How did you convince Ward to cooperate?”

“He thinks he can control the story if he gets involved.”

“He’s probably right, damn it. He’s got a few connections, too.”

“I think Ward is serious about wanting to find out what happened to Maitland. He doesn’t like the idea that someone thought he could get away with murder in the hotel. He took it as a personal affront or something.”

“Huh.” Velma cleared her throat. “Sorry to pry, but I’ve got to ask you if there’s any chance the burglar might have found something in your place that the studio can use to silence you?”

Irene tightened her grip on her handbag. “No. There wasn’t anything for the bastard to find.”

“That’s a relief. All right, stay on the story, at least for now. Let me know if you get anything solid. Until then we’ll keep our heads down. Let Ogden think that his threats are working. And Glasson?”

“Yes, Boss?”

“Be careful. Good reporters are hard to find. I don’t want to have to replace you.”

“You think I’m a good reporter, Boss?”