Page 41 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

Oliver had been about to drink some of the martini. He paused and lowered the glass.

“Oliver,” he said.

Irene glanced at him, bewildered. “What?”

“My name is Oliver,” he said.

“Oh, right.” Irene flushed and turned back to Luther. “About my questions, Mr. Pell.”

Luther smiled. Oliver swallowed a groan. The smile was just as much an illusion as the Lady Vanishes in the Mirror act that had been a signature of the Amazing Oliver Ward Show.

“I understand that you want to know if I can vouch for Tremayne’s alibi,” Luther said. “He’s letting it be known that he was here in my club at the time Miss Maitland died.”

“That’s right.” Irene set her pink lady on a table, opened her large handbag, and removed a notebook and pencil. “The police have establishedthat Gloria Maitland died sometime between eleven forty-five and about twelve fifteen, which is when I found the body.”

Luther eyed the notebook. “You do realize that by answering your questions, I’m doing a favor for Ward.”

Irene hesitated, wary now. “A favor?”

Luther’s smile got a little brighter. “He’ll owe me one in return.”

Irene looked at Oliver. “Is there a problem?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Oliver said. “Stop teasing the lady, Pell. Answer her questions so that we can finish our drinks and have dinner.”

“Very well.” Luther turned back to Irene. “But I want to make it clear that anything I say is off the record.”

Irene’s mouth tightened. “If you insist.”

“I’m afraid I must. I’m a businessman, Miss Glasson. I can’t afford to make any more enemies. I’ve got enough as it is. If my name shows up in your paper in a story that hurts my club, I’ll make sure thatWhispersgoes out of business before the ink is dry.”

Irene gave him an icy smile. “I understand, Mr. Pell. I’ll add your name to the list of people who have threatened to destroyWhispers.”

Luther’s black brows rose. “Is it a long list?”

“And getting longer by the minute. Which tells me that I’m on the right track.”

“No, Miss Glasson. It tells you that you are putting your hand into a bag that may be filled with rattlesnakes.”

“Don’t waste your time trying to scare her,” Oliver said. “It won’t work. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Luther exhaled slowly. “I see. Well, in that case, I’ll tell you what I can, Miss Glasson, but I don’t think it will do you much good. According to my security staff, Tremayne arrived around ten last night. He had evidently spent the earlier part of the evening at the Carousel.”

“What’s that?” Irene asked.

“It’s a former speakeasy just outside of town. The owner runs an illegal casino disguised as a private club. In addition to liquor andgambling, the management also provides other forms of entertainment aimed at the gentlemen’s market.”

“Prostitutes?”

“As I was saying, my boys tell me Tremayne was at the Carousel before he showed up here.”

“All right.” Irene made a few quick notes. “Please go on.”

“Tremayne had obviously been drinking when he arrived. My bartenders tell me he drank steadily throughout the evening, danced with every attractive woman in the room, and seemed to enjoy the entertainment.”

Irene looked up quickly. “Are you saying that he was in sight of one of your people at all times?”

“Not exactly.”