“When the Amazing Oliver Ward Show was touring, we used to say that any publicity was good publicity so long as it mentioned the next appearance.”
“We’re not on the road anymore.”
Chester took off his spectacles and began to polish the lenses with a large handkerchief. “No one’s got a better eye for detail than you do. Part of what made you a good magician. What do you think happened in that spa chamber last night?”
“I took another look around this morning. It’s just barely possible that Gloria Maitland slipped on the tiles at the edge of the pool and somehow managed to hit the back of her head and tumble into the water, but I doubt that’s what happened. The angle of the blow makes it a lot more likely that she was struck from behind. Probably knocked out cold. I’d say that she fell into the water and drowned.”
“So she was murdered.”
“That’s what it looks like.”
Chester’s bushy gray brows climbed. “Any chance it was the reporter lady who did it?”
“If I were a cop, I’d consider Miss Glasson an excellent suspect. She admitted that she had a private late-night meeting with the victim. Also, she’s strong for a woman. She could have overpowered Gloria Maitland.”
“What makes you say Glasson is strong?”
“She was able to swim across the pool fully dressed. Granted, she had the sense to get rid of her shoes first; still, swimming in a pair of women’s trousers wouldn’t have been easy. Lot of heavy fabric. Then she managed to haul herself up out of the water when she reached the opposite side. There was something else, as well.”
“What?”
“She had a large handbag. Looked a bit like a small version of a doctor’s medical bag.”
“What about it? Women usually carry a handbag.”
“She hurled it across the lap pool before she went into the water.”
“Huh.” Chester reflected briefly. “You think it’s odd that she didn’t just drop the handbag when she kicked off her shoes, don’t you?”
“I think there was something very important inside that handbag.”
“Money, probably, as well as the usual fripperies women carry around.”
“Whatever it was, it was so important that she made a point of trying to save it before she went into the water.” Oliver paused, thinking. “It looked heavy.”
“The handbag?” Chester grimaced. “In my experience the average woman’s bag is as heavy as one of my tool kits. Anything else strike you?”
“Lots of things. Irene Glasson is shaping up to be a regular mystery woman. I heard her give Brandon her address in L.A. and the name of her landlady.”
“And?”
“I called the landlady this morning. Said I was a relative who was hoping to speak to my long-lost cousin. The landlady didn’t seem to know much about Irene Glasson, just that she had appeared on the doorstep a few months ago, looking to rent an apartment. She had enough money for the first month’s rent so the landlady didn’t ask a lot of questions.”
“Did you call the Whispers office?”
“Sure. Got right through to the editor, Velma Lancaster, who confirmed that Miss Glasson works for her, but that was about all she said. She sounded worried. When I told her who I was, she got even more nervous.”
“That’s no surprise. So, what it boils down to is that you really didn’t learn much about Miss Glasson.”
“Irene Glasson does not appear to have a past. All the evidence indicates that her life began four months ago when she showed up in L.A.”
“She wouldn’t be the first person to arrive in California looking for a fresh start. Take yourself, for example, and me, and most of the people who worked in the Amazing Oliver Ward Show.”
“Yeah. For example. But we all have pasts. Irene Glasson doesn’t.”
Chester’s expression tightened with concern. “You think she’s going to be trouble, don’t you?”
“She already is trouble. The question is, what do I do about her? Damned if I’ll let her destroy this hotel. Every nickel I’ve got is tied up in this place.”
“You’ve got a plan?”
“The plan is to figure out what happened to Gloria Maitland.”
Chester eyed him with a shrewd look. “What else do you have in mind?”
“I’d really like to know what Irene Glasson has inside her handbag.”
Chapter 7
“The Maitland bitch wasn’t supposed to become a problem.” Nick Tremayne tossed the copy of Whispers down on the table. “What the hell went wrong?”
“I don’t know.” Claudia Picton clutched her notebook to her bosom and tried to contain her anxiety. Her job depended on keeping the star calm. “Mr. Ogden assured me that everything was under control.”