The Girl Who Knew Too Much(93)
But she looked troubled, Julian decided.
“Fuck,” Nick muttered. “If it’s another dead woman, I’ve been with you all evening, right?”
“Right,” Julian said.
It was the truth.
He kept his eye on Willie, who was doing her best to look cool and professional. He could tell she was concerned, though. She kept glancing out the window. There was nothing to be seen because the high hedges and the stucco walls that enclosed the hotel gardens blocked the view.
A few curiosity seekers wandered outside with their drinks to find out what was going on. Willie disappeared briefly, as well. When she returned, she was grim-faced.
The siren started to scream again.
Several of the people who had left a few minutes earlier returned. The rumors circulated swiftly through the crowd. Two men crowded up to the bar to order fresh drinks. Both were in their mid-thirties. One was going bald. The other wore a badly tailored jacket.
An attractive woman in a snug black dress and high heels slipped between the two men.
“What was all the excitement about?” the woman asked in a sultry voice.
The two men almost fell over themselves in an attempt to answer the question.
“Someone said the ambulance went to Oliver Ward’s villa,” Baldy announced with authority, trying to impress the woman. “Heard he fell down the stairs.”
“They found him unconscious,” Bad Jacket explained. “Lot of blood.”
Julian listened very closely.
“Ambulance attendants told someone Ward probably broke some bones, but it’s the head injury they’re worried about,” Baldy added. “They’re taking him to the hospital. They don’t know if he’ll make it.”
“Hell of a thing.” Bad Jacket shook his head. “He survives that warehouse fire only to fall down a flight of stairs.”
“Wonder what he was doing going up and down stairs with that bad leg,” Baldy mused.
Bad Jacket snickered. “Five will get you ten he went up those stairs to pay his houseguest a late-night visit. Heard she was the one who called the ambulance. Someone said she went to the hospital with him.”
“Women,” Baldy said. “They’ll get you one way or another.”
Willie dabbed at her eyes with a white towel. A moment later she said something to the other bartender, a middle-aged man, and disappeared through a side door.
Julian made his way to the bar.
“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked.
“Another Manhattan,” Julian said. “And one for my friend. I heard there’s been an accident.”
“Yeah. Just found out they took the boss to the hospital.”
“Why did the other bartender leave?”
“Willie said she was going to drive to the hospital to see for herself just how bad things are. They don’t know if he’ll make it. If he doesn’t, we’ll all be looking for new jobs.”
The bartender set two Manhattans on the bar. Julian carried them back to the booth. Nick grabbed his glass and took a long swallow.
A short time later Julian guided a very drunk Nick Tremayne to his villa. He did not bother to turn on the lights. He eased Tremayne down onto the bed.
Tremayne muttered something unintelligible.
Julian paused. “What?”
“Said when are you gonna take care of that damned reporter?”
“Soon.”
“Good.”
Julian let himself out into the night.
Chapter 52
The only light inside the darkened villa came from the moon. It was all Julian needed to find his way down the hall. He had brought along a small flashlight to use once he began a serious search. But first he wanted to get an overview of the place.
He had come in through the patio. The lock on the back door was good quality but it was standard issue. You’d think a magician would have installed better locks.
He did a quick walk-through, noting the exit points. There were several but they all opened onto the gardens that surrounded the villa. There were only two ways out of the gardens—the front gate and the one at the back.
Upstairs in the guest bedroom he discovered a narrow, decorative balcony. In a pinch he could go over the railing and drop down into the gardens.
Satisfied that he had noted all the exits, he took a good look around the guest bedroom. It was obvious from the clothes in the closet and the items arranged on the dressing table that it was the room Irene Glasson was using.
He didn’t expect to find the notebook conveniently stashed in a dresser drawer or under the mattress, but you never knew. People made odd decisions when it came to choosing a hiding place. Helen Spencer came to mind. She’d had a very fine safe, one he’d wasted several minutes cracking. But the only thing he found inside was the necklace.