Page 114 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

“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.

He’d considered helping himself to the jewelry—the gems were of excellent quality—but by then he knew enough about Spencer to be certain that the damned thing was hot. He didn’t have any connections in the underground gemstone market. Locating a fence he could trust would have been a high-risk venture. The old man would not have approved. Besides, he didn’t need the money.

When he was satisfied that the notebook was not in the bedroom, he went downstairs to continue the search. On his initial foray, he had noted the safe in the magician’s study, but he had learned his lesson at Spencer’s mansion. He saved the safe for last.

Unlike the door locks, the one that secured the safe was modern and fairly sophisticated in design. He took that as a good sign. Something valuable was inside.

He slipped the knife out of its sheath and set it on the floor within easy reach. Then he took out the stethoscope and went to work.

When he heard the last muffled click, a thrill of anticipation swept through him. He took a deep breath and opened the door. There was a thick envelope inside.

He removed the envelope, opened the unsealed flap, and switched on his flashlight.

There was a leather-bound notebook inside.

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