Page 23 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

“Was that shorthand you were using to record your notes?” Oliver asked.

She tensed. “Every reporter develops his or her own version of shorthand.”

“I know, but I’ve seen notes made by other journalists. They aren’t nearly so neat.” Oliver smiled faintly. “Not so impossible to decipher, either. I’m guessing that only another trained stenographer could read your notes.”

He was fishing for information about her.

“That’s the thing about a private code, isn’t it?” she said. “No one else can read it. What did you mean when you said that Claudia Picton wouldn’t last very long?”

“I assume you’ve met other studio publicists and assistants?”

“Sure. Usually on the phone, though.”

“Still, you must know what they’re like.”

“They’re your best friends when they want coverage for their stars and your worst enemies if you don’t print the kind of coverage they want.”

Oliver’s mouth curved faintly in wry amusement. “Exactly. Reporters aren’t the only ones who have to deal with publicists and assistants. The hotel has to handle them all the time.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve had a lot of experience with the species.”

“The appeal of the Burning Cove Hotel is based in part on the fact that it has become a fashionable retreat for famous film stars. Ambitious publicists and assistants want their actors and actresses to be seen checking in, but they don’t want photographers to catch the stars in compromising positions. The result is that my security staff exists primarily to make sure reporters and photographers don’t get on the grounds without my permission.”

“Which brings you to me.”

“Yes, it does.” Oliver watched her with unreadable eyes. “I couldn’t help but overhear that last part of your conversation with Miss Picton. You have an appointment to meet with Tremayne at my hotel this afternoon.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve been invited to conduct an exclusive interview with Tremayne over tea in something called the Garden Room. Will you allow me on the grounds, Mr. Ward?”

“You’re welcome to do the interview in the Garden Room. But I wouldn’t be too hopeful of getting anything useful out of Tremayne, if I were you. He’ll do his best to charm you. I understand he has a real talent for that sort of thing.”

“I’m sure he’ll try to dazzle me, but I’m not naïve, Mr. Ward. I fully anticipate that Nick Tremayne will try to convince me that his former girlfriend’s death was nothing more than a tragic accident.”

Oliver nodded, satisfied. “A word of warning. He really is a very talented actor.”

“I know. I saw him inFortune’s Rogue.”

“I see. Well, in that case, good luck with the interview.”

“So you will allow me into your hotel.”

“Yes, Miss Glasson. You are free to come and go at will. All I ask in return is that you keep me updated on whatever you learn.”

She thought about that for a few seconds and then nodded. “Fair enough, so long as you let me know whatever you find out about Gloria Maitland’s death.”

“Agreed.” Oliver looked amused. “Are you saying that you trust me, Miss Glasson?”

She smiled her reassuring reporter’s smile, the one Peggy had taught her. Peggy had called it the just-the-two-of-us-chatting smile.

“No more than you trust me, Mr. Ward,” she said. “However, as you pointed out last night, at the moment we do seem to share some similar interests.”

“One of which is the security of my hotel. This morning I went over events with the head of my security department. We retraced your steps. As a rule, the spa chamber is locked at night, but there was no sign of forced entry. I assume the side door was unlocked when you arrived?”

“Yes.”

“Who unlocked it for you?”

“I assumed Miss Maitland unlocked it. She chose the spa as the location for our meeting. She said it would be empty at that hour of the night. Would it have been difficult for her to get her hands on the key?”

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