Home>>read The Girl Who Knew Too Much free online

The Girl Who Knew Too Much(30)

By:Amanda Quick


But if Helen Spencer’s killer had found her, he would have no way of knowing that she never left the notebook behind. He would assume that she had done what most people did with a valuable item—stashed it in a secret hiding place.

She looked down at her hand and was shocked to see that it was trembling ever so slightly.

Calm down. Don’t panic. Think.

Mentally she cataloged the few possessions she had acquired in the months that she had been living in Los Angeles. There was very little of value—her clothes, the new radio, some inexpensive furniture, and the kitchen things.

“Was anything taken?” she asked.

“Mrs. Drysdale didn’t think so but how would she know?” Velma said. “She told me that she called the cops. An officer filled out a report but there’s not much chance that anyone will be picked up. I told Mrs. Drysdale that it was probably just a random burglary, but between you and me, I’m not so sure.”

Neither am I, Irene thought. She was suddenly very glad that she had refilled the gas tank when she arrived in Burning Cove. She wouldn’t have to waste time stopping at a filling station. She could pick up her things at the Cove Inn, throw them into the car, and leave. Time enough to decide on a destination after she got on the road.

Unaware of the turmoil she had created with her news, Velma continued speaking.

“I think we have to consider the possibility that the break-in at your apartment is connected to your Maitland story,” she said. “I had a call from Tremayne’s studio—Ernie Ogden himself.”

The name rang a faint bell but it took Irene a couple of beats to make the connection.

“Peggy mentioned him a couple of times,” she said.

“No surprise. He’s the fixer at Tremayne’s studio. Rumor has it that he and Peggy had an affair back in the day. He told me he’d heard that I’d hired her and he appreciated it. I think he was genuinely fond of her, which is probably why he cut me some slack today. Regardless, he was not happy.”

Irene gripped the telephone cord. “Did he threaten you?”

“Let’s just say he made it clear that it would be very unwise of me to print another story about Tremayne—not unless Tremayne actually gets himself arrested for murder. What I’m getting at is that it wouldn’t surprise me if Ogden paid someone to go through your apartment.”

Relief crashed through Irene. She started to breathe again.

“A private detective, maybe,” she said, seizing on the possibility. “Looking for something to use as leverage against us. Well, against me, at any rate.”

“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. That Luther 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.”