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.

Irene groaned. “That’s not a comforting thought.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you can bet that whoever killed Spencer is probably concerned about the competition, too,” Oliver said.

She eyed him warily. “Why should that make me feel better?”

“It means that whoever found you in L.A. will be strongly motivated to take some risks. And that leads to the very strong possibility that he’ll make mistakes—especially if he’s pushed to act quickly.”

Chester snapped the notebook shut. “We need to know why these notes are so important. I’ve licensed a few of my patents to various firms around the country. I know some people. Someone out there will have some idea of what is going on at Saltwood.”

“You must be very careful,” Irene said.

“Take it easy,” Oliver said. “Chester knows what he’s doing. Meanwhile, I think we should put that notebook in a more secure place. No offense, but your handbag is not exactly Fort Knox.”

Instinctively Irene tightened her grip on the strap of her handbag. “I’ve been afraid to let it out of my sight.”

“Don’t worry,” Chester said. “After I’ve finished examining it, I’ll put it in a very safe place.”

“All right. I guess.”

“You two go on now,” Chester said. “I need peace and quiet to work on this project.”

Oliver grasped Irene’s shoulder and gently turned her toward the door. Reluctantly she allowed him to steer her out of the workshop.

“It feels weird,” she said.

“Giving Atherton’s notebook to someone else? I understand. But we need to know what makes that notebook worth the risk of a murder rap.”

“If we’re right about the killer—if he found my apartment in L.A.—then by now he knows that I’m here in Burning Cove.”

“Yes, but he’s in my territory now. We’ve got a good chance of picking him out of the crowd.”

“How?”

He got her outside into the gardens. The sun felt very good, she thought, and the ocean looked especially dazzling.

“This is a small town,” Oliver said. “It will be no trouble at all for Detective Brandon to get us a list of people who have recently checked in to the local inns and hotels.”

“Including this one?” she said. “I thought you kept your guest list secret.”

Oliver looked amused. “We don’t give it out to the press but I make it a policy to always know who is staying in my hotel.”

“Do you really think the killer would be so bold as to check in to your hotel?”

“I think,” Oliver said, “that it would be a very smart thing for him to do.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the last thing you would expect.”

“Misdirection.”

“Either that or a breathtaking degree of arrogance.” Oliver sounded very thoughtful now.

“What makes you so sure you can tell what he’s thinking?” Irene demanded. “You’ve never met the monster who murdered Helen Spencer.”

“But I already know a great deal about him, starting with the fact that he is a human monster. There was, after all, no need to murder Spencer in the grisly manner you described.”

She shuddered. “No.”

“It sounds like he enjoyed himself. That definitely makes him a monster. In addition, I’m very sure it also makes him arrogant. The receptionist at Whispers mentioned his accent.”

“What about it?”

“That fits with the fact that he seems to have been acquainted with Helen Spencer. Odds are the man we’re looking for is from the East Coast.”

“Yes. Helen’s acquaintances all moved in very exclusive social circles back east. It’s possible she met someone from outside that world, though. I just can’t say. It’s obvious I didn’t know nearly as much about her as I thought I did.”

“We get our share of guests from the East Coast. They tend to stand out.”

“How? Clothes? Manners?”

“And the accent. Gives them away every time. It would appear that we are dealing with two killers. I think we need some assistance.”

“The police?”

“No, someone who can afford to be somewhat more flexible than the local cops. Luther Pell. Let’s go to my office. I’ll telephone him and ask him to meet with us as soon as possible.”

“You’re sure you can trust him?”

“Yes,” Oliver said.

A short time later he put down the telephone and looked at Irene.

“Luther will be here in an hour,” he said.

She took a deep breath. “All right.”

Oliver got the look of a man who had just made a life-altering decision. He grabbed his cane and levered himself to his feet.

“Come with me,” he said. “I want to show you something.”