“Who are you?” She wouldn’t admit anything, either.
“Gilbert Vine. I work for the Plaza Royale.” I didn’t want to frighten her by saying “detective.”
“What you want?”
“To get a message to Miss Millett.”
“How do I know where she is?” Nikky shrugged.
“There’s been an arrest in connection with the murder in Miss Millett’s hotel suite.”
She didn’t bat an eye.
“Miss Millett might save an innocent man by telling what she knows about the killing.”
“I am sorry. I cannot—”
She swung around as someone moaned, “Ahhh!” from the doorway.