The Girl Who Knew Too Much(68)

“Yeah,” Nick said. “I remember.”

“I’ll let myself out,” Julian said. He paused briefly. “One more thing. Absolutely no one is to know my real reason for being here. Understand?”

“What about my personal assistant?”

Julian shook his head. “No one. As far as everyone around you knows, you and I are just a couple of guys on vacation who struck up a friendship. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Julian disappeared into the shadows of the living room. Nick watched, more than a little awed. The man moved as silently as a snake.

I’m here to make your problem disappear.

A moment later the front door of the villa opened and then closed very quietly.

For the first time since the nightmare began, Nick allowed himself a measure of optimism. Maybe, just maybe, he would survive the rolling disaster that had overtaken him.

The doorbell chimed. He pulled himself out of his trance.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened. Tentative footsteps echoed on the tiles.

He stifled a sigh. “I’m out here on the patio.”

Claudia appeared in the doorway, clutching her notebook.

“Who was that man I saw leaving here?” she asked.

“Just someone I met in the bar. We’re going to play golf together tomorrow.”

“I see,” Claudia said. “I came to tell you that Mr. Ogden called again. He told me to tell you that everything is under control.”

Nick’s spirits soared. “I think Ogden might be right this time.”

“This time?”

“Go on, get out of here. I want to work on my lines for Lost Weekend.”

Claudia fled.





Chapter 36




“Interesting.” Chester adjusted his spectacles on his nose and studied one of the pages in Atherton’s notebook with acute interest. “These look like mathematical formulas, the kind used to calculate distances and angles.” He turned a few more pages. “Huh.”

“What is it?” Oliver asked.

Chester looked up. “I can’t answer all your questions yet. I need time to study these notes. It would be helpful to know what Atherton was working on at the Saltwood lab. I can make a telephone call to the company.”

“No,” Irene said, her voice sharpening. “I called the lab back at the start. That’s how I found out that Dr. Atherton was dead. The person who took the call immediately started to grill me. She tried to find out who I was and why I was calling. It was frightening. My former boss is dead because of that notebook.”

“Yet she entrusted it to your care,” Oliver said. “She didn’t tell you to destroy it.”

“No. But she made it clear that I couldn’t trust anyone—not even the FBI or the cops. She said she made the mistake of trusting the wrong man.”

Chester looked at her. “But she suggested that you might be able to use the notebook as a bargaining chip if the worst happened?”

“Yes.”

Oliver studied her. “Did Spencer spell out what the worst possibility might be?”

“I think it’s obvious,” Irene said. “She meant that if whoever is after the notebook found me, I might be able to make a deal.”

“Considering what happened to Helen Spencer, I doubt that any deal for the notebook would end well for you,” Oliver said.

Irene winced. “I came to the same conclusion. But the notebook is all I’ve got so I keep it close. Maybe the second break-in at my apartment has nothing to do with Atherton’s notes. Maybe Tremayne’s studio really did send someone to break in a second time.”

Chester and Oliver looked at her. Neither of them said a word.

She exhaled slowly. “I know. What are the odds?”

“Not good,” Oliver said. “Unless and until proven otherwise, we have to go with the theory that the second break-in was linked to Atherton’s notebook.”

Irene locked her arms around herself. “Which means that whoever is after it managed to track me all the way to California.”

Oliver’s brows rose. “It took him four months to find you. I’d say you did a damned good job of disappearing.”

“Not good enough, apparently.”

Oliver got a very intent, very thoughtful expression. “Someone lost you and the notebook for four long months. Whoever it is will be very, very relieved to know that he has finally found you. I think he will also be in a great hurry to recover the notebook before you vanish again. Or before someone else finds you.”

Alarmed, Irene stared at him. “Someone else?”

“If that notebook was worth killing for, I think it’s safe to assume that there may be others after it,” Oliver said.