Cast in Steele
Original Airdate: Dec 4 1984
Transcribed from the Episode written by:
Jeff Melvoin
Restored scenes and dialogue in RED

Two people hurriedly roll a gurney down a hospital corridor. A nurse walks by, past Mildred Krebs,
who's holding a spray of flowers. "Excuse me, could you-?" she asks the nurse, but the woman ignores her. Mildred turns a corner and sees a doctor. "Oh. Pardon me, could you tell me where I could find-"

"Go to the admissions desk," he tells her without looking up from the chart he's reading. "And don't bother the medical staff."
Mildred frowns. "There's no one AT the admissions desk."
She wanders around, stopping before and peeking in through a small glass window in a door to an operating room, then finds someone who answers her question. She goes to a door and hears Steele saying, "I assure you, Laura, if I'd heard you, I wouldn't have gone into the building."
"I'll bet," Laura replies. "When have you ever listened to me before?"
Mildred enters, and her jaw drops in shock. "Mr. Steele! Miss Holt! What happened?"
Steele is laying on a bed, his right arm in a cast, suspended. His left leg is broken and he's in traction. Laura is sitting on the edge of his bed, a collar around her neck, right arm wrapped, crutches at her side.
"Well," Steele responds, "it's a long story."
"Champagne, Mildred?" Laura asks.
Steele presses the call button. " Yes, Mr. Steele?" a nurse is heard saying.
"Yes, could you get me another beaker for our friend here, please? Thank you."
"I thought you two were just going to some award ceremony this weekend," Mildred says, still in shock at their appearance.
"That was the first mistake," Laura says with a sour expression.
"Oh, come now, Laura. You can't say it wasn't all worthwhile, now, can you?"
"Can you get back to me when the ligaments heal?" she asks.
"Will somebody tell me what happened?"
"Certainly," Steele agrees.
As we see limousines delivering people to a gala, Laura says, "Mr. Steele and I had been invited to the opening ceremonies of the Hollywood Archives. An organization for the preservation and study of the American movie."
An announcer speaks into a microphone as a limo comes to a stop before the red carpet. Photographers gather. "It's a beautiful night for our gala, ladies and gentlemen. We may even see some of the more reclusive stars." A valet helps a woman from the limo. A man joins her. "Wait a minute. Who's this? Why, it's Dorothy Lamour and Lloyd Nolan. Oh, my, doesn't she look radiant? And Mr. Nolan appears as dapper as when.."
Laura says, "Some of the stars had helped the Archives, and were going to be recognized that evening with plaques of appreciation."
Another limo pulls up. "Hold on, who's this?" the emcee asks. "Wait a minute. I think it's- Yes, it is. Ladies and gentlemen, Virginia Mayo." The woman stands there, waves. "Oh, remember her as the voluptuous, slightly cross eyed blonde in the Technicolor spectacles of the 40's?" Another limo pulls up. "What a thrill, ladies and gentlemen. And it's only just begun. Oh. Who's this?"
Laura, dressed in an elegant, black cocktail dress and, to be Laura, an unusually sizable necklace with stones filling the deep v-line , and Steele, in a tuxedo , get out of the limo, smiling. Laura, still in voice over, says, "Due to- diligent PR efforts on my part," the crowd of photographers and reporters disburses, "Mr. Steele had been selected as a presenter." Laura takes Steele's arm and they walk down the carpet- unnoticed.
Inside, Steele is at the dais, giving his presentation speech. "And so we so come to the triumph of "White Heat", in which Miss Mayo further displayed her versatility opposite James Cagney. As Verna Jarrett, she firmly established herself in the annals of film noire." The audience is slightly bored. "It is my great honor now to present this plaque of appreciation to a radiant star. Miss Virginia Mayo."
She comes out to an ovation, giving Steele a kiss on the cheek before going to the microphone. "I didn't know I was so prolific," she comments, smiling. Steele is star struck as he holds her plaque. Thank you, Mr. Steele for those kind words. And thank you, everyone. Well, here's hoping the Archives is a big success. Thank you very much."
Steele hands her the plaque and escorts her off stage as he tells Mildred, "Needless to say, Mildred, my speech was a resounding triumph."
Backstage, he poses with the actress for photographers, smiling broadly. Virginia sees an old friend and moves away to greet her, so Steele takes the plaque and holds it, smiling for the camera again. Steele wanders off, plaque still under his arm.
In the auditorium, another presenter is finishing. "know who I'm talking about. Ladies and gentlemen, it's my great pleasure to present Miss Dorothy Lamour." The camera focuses on Ms. Lamour in the audience, getting up .
Realizing that he's got the plaque, Steele knocks on a door marked "Private", then opens it. Inside, a man turns to look at him. In his arms is a blonde woman who looks like she's either asleep or passed out. "Oh, terribly sorry. I didn't see the sign. Sorry." He closes the door, and turns to find Lloyd Nolan close by. "Oh. Excuse me, Mr. Nolan."
"Steele, right?" Nolan asks shortly.
"Yes. You didn't happen to see Virginia Mayo, did you? I have her plaque."
"Yes. She's out in the alley there, trying to catch her breath after all that hot air." Steele pauses, looks at Nolan uncertainly. Nolan laughs. "Only kidding, Steele. You know, you've got style, but- stick with the detective work."
"Thank you," Steele says, moving off.
Steele walks out through the back door as Virginia is heard talking with another friend in the alley. "I'm so glad I saw you. Maybe we can get together next week for lunch, okay? I'll call you. Bye bye." The two women part after kissing each other on the cheek .
Steele comes up to her. "Miss Mayo? I'm so sorry to disturb you, but-you forgot your plaque."
She smiles at him. "Do I have to hear your speech all over again to get it back?" she asks.
He laughs softly. "No, not at all. You know, you still look as lovely as you did in `The Secret Life of Walter Mitty', Danny Kaye, Boris Karloff, RKO, 19-"
"You flatter me," Virginia tells him, preventing him from continuing.
"Well, there you go, anyway." He hands her the plaque. "Listen, I don't mean to sound personal, but- what was it like, working with Boris Karloff?"
"Well," she begins as headlights illuminate them. A car is heading toward them, and after he pushes Virginia toward the doors, Steele leaps into a dumpster.
Once the car is gone, Virginia runs to the dumpster and peers inside. "Mr. Steele? Mr. Steele?"
He moans.
"So that's how you broke your arm and your leg, huh, Boss," Mildred asks, as we watch Virginia and Laura standing watch as a doctor tends to Steele backstage at the gala. Laura is using her handbag to fan Steele.
"Not exactly, Mildred," Steele answers.
The doctor moves off to reveal a bandage on Steele's left index finger. "You're a lucky man, Mr. Steele. Other than that scratch on your finger, I can't find anything that requires treatment." Steele sits up, stretches.
"Reflexes like a cat," he comments.
"I'm sure," the doctor agrees. "Landing on that pile of discarded newspapers probably helped." They all laugh. The doctor's beeper goes off. "Oh, damn. I thought being the house doctor tonight that I'd have a relaxing evening. I told my service to call me only for an emergency. I'm afraid I'm gonna have to run along. Oh, by the way, Mr. Steele, do you have a personal physician?"
Steele hesitates, glances at Laura, who shakes her head. "No. I don't."
"Why don't you call me tomorrow," the doctor says, handing him a card. "If you have any discomfort."
"Good night," the doctor says, and the others echo his sentiments as Steele places the card in his pocket.
"Goodnight, doctor, thank you."
Laura turns to Virginia. "Miss Mayo, are you certain no one you know is trying to harm you? No recent arguments with friends, creditors, that sort of thing? Nothing unusual?"
"Well, there has been something strange, come to think of it. A few weeks ago, I got a letter from someone saying he was soon going to put my name in the headlines in a most unusual way. Since then, I've gotten a letter from him every few days, saying- the deadline is approaching- or, something like that."
Steele is retying his bow-tie. "The Fan."
"What?" Virginia asks.
"Lauren Bacall, James Garner. Paramount, 1981. A deranged fan, feeling personally rejected by Bacall attempts to kill her." Laura sags in disbelief as Virginia is concerned.
"Tries to murder her?"
"What Mr. Steele is saying in his highly original way," Laura says, "is that perhaps this correspondent is responsible for tonight's accident."
"Oh, what an awful thought."
"And a bit far-fetched, I assure you. Nevertheless, perhaps we should take you home and have a look at those letters."
Virginia asks Steele, "Uh, in that movie you mentioned, Mr. Steele- they stop the killer, don't they?"
"Uh, yes, I think they do," he says. "Let me see now." He totally misses Laura's attempt to get him to just say YES. "The fan brutally slashes Maureen Stapleton, um-" he finally notices Laura's expression and backs off, seeing Virginia's pale face.
At Virginia's, Steele is examining the photos on her mantle as the actress gives an envelope to Laura. "I'm afraid this is it," she apologizes.
"Well, one letter is better than none. Postmarked four days ago. No return address." She removes
the letter. "Next week is almost here," she reads from the typewritten letter. "A week you'll never forget, the week I come into your life. G. E. M."
"He signed all of his letters like that," Virginia tells them. "Just initials."

"Obviously the furtive type," Steele says. "I get this image- this image of the character Peter Lorre played in "The Maltese Falcon"."
"Wasn't he some sort of a psychopath?" Virginia asks.
Laura tries to smile reassuringly. "Excuse me a moment, will you?" She goes to Steele and hisses, "Mr. Steele, as a rule, we try to avoid scaring our clients to death. Now, I know your cinematic references are just meant for- inspiration, but Miss Mayo doesn't. Now she thinks she's being stalked by a creepy little man with buggy eyes and a nervous giggle."
Steele looks at Virginia. "Hmm. I see your point. Perhaps I should have mentioned Sidney Greenstreet instead, eh?" he asks a defeated Laura.
Laura shakes her head and returns to her chair. "Miss Mayo, can you think of anything else that might help? Any possible lead?"
"Well, you know, it's funny, but I was chatting with Lloyd Nolan this evening, and he mentioned some strange fan letters he'd been getting lately." Steele pulls a chair over and sits down. At the time, I didn't give it a second thought, but- maybe there's a connection."
"We'll check it out tomorrow," Laura tells her. "If it would make you feel more comfortable, I'd be glad to stay awhile longer."
"Oh, thanks," Virginia says. "I think I'd feel better."
"Splendid," Steele says. "Virginia Mayo, Lloyd Nolan. This is the best case we've ever worked on."
Laura smiles at his enthusiasm.
"IS that when you got hurt, Miss Holt?" Mildred asks. "Protecting Virginia Mayo?"
We see the Auburn pull up to a Swiss Chalet type house as Laura tells Mildred, "No, Mildred, the night was uneventful. Though Miss Mayo and I had a wonderful time talking about the golden age of Hollywood."
"I, on the other hand, didn't have time for such trivia, Mildred," Steele informs her sternly. "I got an early start the next morning. Lloyd Nolan had greatly admired my little talk the evening before, so we had no trouble getting on."
Steele gets out of the Auburn and rings the doorbell. Inside, Nolan says, "I put out some lines after you called me, Steele."
"Uh huh?"
"Dorothy Lamour has also heard from that punk." He carries some letters over.
"You're kidding!"
"Dorothy Lamour? Road to Singapore? Moon over Burma? Typhoon?" His enthusiasm fades. "Oh, how dreadful. I'd better see her about this thing as well, hadn't I?" he sits forward to look at the letters.
"Here they are. I only saved two."
Steele takes them. "You don't know me now," he reads, "but in two weeks you will. G.E.M." He looks at the second one. "One week until your life changes forever. G.E.M." He holds them up. "And you have no idea who this G.E.M. is."
"Okay, well, I'll get my associate onto it straightaway. Oh, and-one more question, Mr. Nolan."
"I went to a revival house where they were showing "Somewhere in the Night", but, they- lost the last reel. Now, John Hodiak realizes that he's not George Taylor anymore, but he's really Larry Crevett. Now, I'm dying to know what happened at the end, eh?"
Nolan laughs. "You know, you're really a strange bird for a dick, Steele. Well, let's see. I played Lt. Donald Kendall in that one. Somehow I rarely rose above lieutenant in those pictures. And Richard Conte was the bad guy." He sees someone pass the window. "That's funny."
Steele rises as well. "What's wrong? Something the matter?"
"Now, that's odd. The postman just passed through the yard, but- I got the mail an hour ago."
Steele looks thoughtful.
"Well," Nolan says, sitting down again. "What were we talking about?"
"Three Days of the Condor," Steele muses sitting back down.
"No. I wasn't in that."
"No, an assassin in Three Days of the Condor tries to kill Robert Redford but he's disguised as a mailman."
"Robert Redford?"
"The assassin."
"You have lost me," Nolan announces.
"Get down!" Steele grabs him and pulls him to the floor as bullets begin to fill the air.
When the bullets stop, Steele looks up, but Nolan tells him, "Stay down, Steele! The postman always rings twice!"
Sure enough, there's another hail of bullets. Once they stop again, Steele and Nolan look up, both covered with pieces of white plaster from the many holes in the walls. Steele takes off outside. He rounds the corner of the building, and is shot at by someone wearing a postman's uniform and a mask. "Three times?" Steele questions as he takes shelter behind a brick column . He makes a run for it, bullets following close in his footsteps, and dives into the pool. The gunman vanishes as Nolan comes around the corner.
Nolan calls out, "Steele?" and stands beside the pool. "I keep meaning to have that refilled," he says.
Mildred says to Steele, "Oh, that must have been a *fright*, Boss! A mailman trying to drill you with a tommy gun!"

"Let's just say it gives new meaning to the words 'Special Delivery,'" Steele responds.
Laura adds, "Unfortunately, it didn't affect his sense of humor."

"*That's* how you broke your arm and leg, right?" Mildred asks Steele, who smiles and takes another drink of champagne. "Diving into that empty pool."

"Not exactly, Mildred. No."

Back to Nolan's house, Nolan asks, "Are you okay, Steele?"

Steele, floating on a partially deflated airmattress in about two foot of water, looks up , his hair all messed up. "A little damp. But otherwise tip top." He stands and straightens his tie as Nolan tries to fight a smile. Steele looks around for a way out.


Laura tells Mildred, "While Mr. Steele was having fun mingling with the stars, somebody had to get on with the nuts and bolts of the investigation." We see her park the Rabbit before the "Hollywood Center Building.

"Having fun?" Steele questions incredulously.

"The fan letters were our only lead, Mildred," Laura continues. "Even without a return address and signed only with initials, they had a story to tell, if you knew how to read it."

Laura and a middle aged man are poring over the letters. "What do you think, Morris?" she asks him.

"Think? About the typewriter, I don't have to think. It's an Underwood 5. Good old reliable machine. This one has seen its share of service. The right beak of the capital T is dented. The left serif for the small y is gone. There are other distinguishing characteristics, but-those should be enough to identify the actual machine."

"When we find it."

"That's your problem," he says with a smile, and Laura laughs. "As to the actual stationary itself, you're in luck. It's very unusual. Heavy bond of Japanese manufacture. Very handsome. Very expensive. Only a few high class stores in town would handle it." He picks up a pen. "I'll make you a list."

"Oh, thanks."

"The brown ink used for the initials is also distinctive. An English brand. Yeah. You find the store that handles both the paper and the ink-you'll be closing in on your man."

"Oh, you're terrific, Morris." She takes the list and letter. "Hey listen, just put this on our tab, okay?" she gives him a kiss on the cheek and starts to go.

"Uh, tell me something, Laura." She turns. "Does your boss EVER do any legwork?"

She thinks for a suitable answer. "Mr. Steele's skills are hard to define at times, Morris. Very hard." She goes to the door, then turns again. "Sometimes downright impossible." She waves. "See ya 'round."


"The third store on Morris' list paid off," Laura tells Mildred as we see Laura leaving a stationary store. "The credit records produced a name: George Edward Mulch. The case was coming together."


"At the time, Mildred, I was engaged in an utterly charming conversation with Dorothy Lamour," Steele says as we see him tap the top of the limo to dismiss it then approach the front door, pausing to shine his shoes on the back of his pants before ringing the bell. "I had come, of course, to discuss her fan letters- but we quickly moved on to other subjects."

Steele hears someone say, "Who is it?"

He looks up the front of the building, then steps out to see her in a window on the first floor . "Oh. Miss Lamour. It's- Remington Steele."


"I'm the private detective Lloyd Nolan called you about."

"Oh. I expected somebody more like Tom Selleck," she comments, causing Steele to pause for a moment and his smile to falter. "The letters are right over there by the door."

Steele jogs over to get them. "Don't go away, Miss Lamour, just a moment, please." He returns to his position. "If uh, if I might just as you a few questions, please. You know, get some background information-"

"Fire away."
"Uh, perhaps, uh, I might- go inside? You know, have a cup of tea?"
"I can hear you fine from here."
He looks at her. "Is it my imagination, Miss Lamour, or are you very nervous about something?"
"Well, I am a little concerned about my life," she admits.
"I see. Of course. The attempts on Miss Mayo, and Mr. Nolan. Well, you're perfectly safe with me, rest assured."
"Is that what you told Lloyd and Virginia?" she asks with a smirk.
"Miss Lamour, if I could just talk to you a bit, it might help bring this culprit to justice."
"Well, what are we doing now? Playing Trivial Pursuit?"
Steele grins. "Ah, that marvelously saucy delivery of yours. No wonder Bing and Bob thought you were the perfect comedic counterpart. But, you know, I think the critics overlooked your importance as a dramatic actress."
"You do?"
"Oh, indeed. Take "Manhandled". Dan Dureya, Sterling Hayden, Paramount, 1949. I mean, who could forget your performance as Merle Kramer? The sweet but unknowing secretary who gets involved in a plot of twisted murder and deceit. Ah. Of such things are movie memories made, Miss Lamour."

"I'll be right down," Dorothy tells him.
Steele smiles, heads toward the door as Laura honks her horn and joins him. "Mr. Steele!" She gets out of the car. "Mr. Steele."
"I see, couldn't resist meeting our lady of the sarong, eh, Laura?"
"Some other time," she insists. "I think I've located the fan."
His delighted smile fades. "Yes?"
"Oh. Excellent work." The door opens. "Miss Lamour. This is my associate, Laura Holt."
"How do you do?" Dorothy asks, shaking Laura's hand.
"It's a pleasure," Laura assures her.
"My colleague here, busy little worker bee that she is, has just unearthed another clue which demands my immediate attention, so I'll have to postpone our little tête-a-tête -" A car pulls up
outside the fence. Laura notices it, then notices the rifle with a scope that's pointed toward them as Steele continues "Shall we say later? Around cocktail hour? Seven o'clock, my place?"
Laura grabs him. "Get down!" The gunman fires two shots and then the car speeds off.
As the car speeds off, Steele and Laura look up, Steele with an angry, frustrated look on his face.
Laura and Steele are riding in the Rabbit with the top down. Laura is driving.
"I'm concerned about what happends when we confront our murderous Mr. Mulch," Remington confesses.
"So am I," Laura agrees. "That's why I decided to stop by the office before I came by to get you."
"Check the glove compartment," she tells him.
He opens it and cautiously and relunctantly pulls out the Agency gun and checks it out.
Laura tells Mildred, "The address I had written down for George Edward Mulch was an office building in the heart of old Hollywood. We headed there immediately."

As Laura is driving down the road in the Rabbit, Steele is reading some papers. As he finishes he tells Laura, "We're dealing with a very highly disturbed personality here, Laura."

"This syndrome has become entirely too common. Someone usually suffering from schizophrenic or paranoid tendencies decides to become famous by killing someone famous." Laura explains.

"Yes, I wonder what happens when we meet our murderous Mr. Mulch." Steele ponders.

"So am I. That's why I decided to stop by the office before I came to get you." Laura responds.
"Why?" Steele wonders.

"Check out the glove compartment." Laura replies, raising her eyebrows and smacking her lips, as if something unpleasant will be revealed.

Frowning, Steele opens the glove compartment and hesitantly takes out the agency gun and carefully checks it out for rounds.


The rabbit can be seen parked outside an office building and the windows a couple of stories up come into focus.

Steele is carrying the agency gun as they approach the office. He knocks on the door, then gives the gun to Laura to hold at ready as he picks the locks. Entering the office, she hands the gun back to Steele upon realizing that they're alone. Laura goes to the desk. "Ah. An Underwood 5," she tells him. "Just as Morris said."

Steele opens some file cabinets, and in the third one he finds a box with the stationary. "Laura, come here and have a look." Steele takes out some sheets.

She walks over to the other side of the file cabinet and takes out some stationary as well. "We have our man, Mr. Steele."

The door opens, and Mulch, a heavy set balding man, comes in, sees them, then takes off. Laura and Steele follow him down to the Hollywood Walk of Fame, then across to Mann's Chinese Theatre, where someone who LOOKS like Burt Reynolds is putting his handprints in cement. Mulch runs through the wet concrete, followed by Steele and Laura, Steele yelling, "Mind your backs, ladies, mind your backs!"

They chase him back into the street. Mulch gets across, Steele manages, but Laura trips and falls to the ground. She lays there, stunned. Steele stops. "Laura!" he yells as a car comes toward her.

Back at the hospital, Mildred gets up from a chair, saying "So that when you got your injuries. You were hit by a car on Hollywood Boulevard tracing that crazy man?" as she walks around Steele's bed.

"Not exactly, Mildred.
The car stopped just in time," Laura informs Mildred.

"Laura?" Steele calls, running to her and helping her up. "You all right? You all right? Excellent reflexes," he tells the driver. "Wonderful." The y look to the side of the street, where Mulch is standing at the corner of a building, watching them. He sees them and takes off again.

"Come on," Steele says.

They chase him into an alley, where he starts tiring. Steele grabs him and pushes him up against a garage door, and Laura catches up. "Let me go!" Mulch yells. "Let me go! What'd I do- You got no right!"

"We'll see about that!" Laura tells him. All of them are out of breath.

"Maybe you caught me," he says, "But if you think I'm gonna tell you anything, you got another thing comin'."

Steele glares. "Alright, tough guy. The three of us are gonna take a little walk back to your office. You can either go awake, or asleep. The choice is yours."


Back in Mulch's office, Mulch is sitting behind his desk while Steele and Laura are leaning against the sideboard next to it. Mulch listens, as Laura says, "We know where you bought the stationary, Mr. Mulch."

"So I bought some paper. Big deal."

"We can prove you wrote those letters on your typewriter," Steele informs him.

"I don't know nothin' about any letters," Mulch insists calmly.

"Virginia Mayo, Lloyd Nolan, Dorothy Lamour? Ring any bells, Mr. Mulch?"

"You're crazy."

"Oh, come on, Georgie, we wouldn't come here if we didn't have any proof," Steele tells him, taking the credit card receipt out of his pocket to show to Mulch. "Look. Umm?"
Mulch slams it down, then looks dejected. "Alright, I admit it. I wrote 'em. I didn't think anybody would catch on."
"Let's go, Mulch," Laura says.
Getting up from behind his desk, he says "Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Maybe we could strike a bargain. A trade off, one on one. Like uh- I'll give you-the Marilyn Monroe Modern Magic Slicer. I'll keep the mayonnaise recipe."
Steele and Laura look confused. "We're talking about murder, Laura, and this man's talking about mayonnaise."
"Mr. Mulch," Laura says, "I don't think you recognize the gravity of this situation. Three counts of attempted murder, not to mention-"
"What murder? What are you talkin' about?"
"We're private investigators, my name's Remington Steele, this is Laura- uh-"
"Holt," she finishes.
"Private investigators?" Mulch questions. "Then you're not with like- General Foods or Rand McNally? Or Popeil?"
"We're tracking a killer," Laura informs him.
"That's wonderful," Mulch sighs. "I thought you were trying to steal my idea." Steele gives Laura a look that says he's not sure Mulch has both oars in the water. Mulch sits on the desk. "So. Who's dead?"
Laura looks at Steele. "No one yet. But in the last two days, someone has made attempts on the stars we mentioned."
"Oh, that's terrible. That's very bad. That could throw off my whole campaign."
"What campaign?" Laura repeats.
"You two SURE you don't work for General Foods?"
"Hmm," Steele grunts.
"Okay, okay," Mulch says. "Look, I knocked around the film biz for a long time, see. But recently, I've been funneling all of my energies into G.E.M. Productions, Incorporated. I like to think of it as a free flowing idea company."
"In other words, you haven't produced anything yet," Steele says.
"Right. BUT about a month ago, I got this dynamite idea! I don't know how they come to me, they just DO. Now listen, here it is. A whole new national line of products based on Hollywood Stars. For example, you wanna make a sandwich. You reach for that bright, shiny bottle of- Virginia Mayo."
Steele looks worried. "Of course," he agrees. Laura looks stunned.
"This is a great one. You're gonna love this. Let's say you wanna go visit your Aunt Bernice in Chula Vista. But you don't have a map. Where can you turn? The Dorothy Lamour Road to the United States Highway Directory and Restaurant Guide. You get it? Dorothy Lamour was in all the road pictures with Hope and Crosby." Steele nods. "The ROAD to the United States. We'll have it for the whole free world!"
"Mr. Mulch," Steele begins, "why didn't you identify yourself in the letters?"
"And why the expensive stationary?" Laura continues.
"These people- they get offers every day. I try to create a little mystery. A little allure. You see, the stationary tells them that this is a class act. They mysteriousness lets them know that they're dealing with a master of hype. Next week, I was gonna reveal all."
"Mr. Mulch," Laura asks, "Can you pinpoint your whereabouts for the last two hours?"
"Two hours? Of course, I was at my usual stool at Musso and Frank's. I can account for my whereabouts every day for the last two years."
"Well, Mr. Steele, if George Edward Mulch isn't behind the attempted murders, then who is?"
"Presumably," Dorothy Lamour says as she and her two friends sit in chairs in front of Steele's desk, "that's why we're paying YOU, Mr. Steele, to find out."

"We're paying HIM?" Nolan asks in surprise.
"It's news to me," Virginia agrees.
Steele paces to stand beside his desk where Laura is sitting. "Ladies and Gentleman, I assure you, our services are on the house. It's a privilege to serve such- honored clientele."
"And we're very touched, Mr. Steele," Nolan says. "But just- How do you plan to stop this psycho?"
Steele motions to Laura to take over as he sits in the window ledge. "Well, we've eliminated the fan letters as a clue, so- we have to come up with another common denominator linking the three of you."
"That's good thinking, Steele," Nolan says.
"Its all part of the deductive process which has- made this agency what it is," Steele assures them as Laura sits and smiles. "Yes. Please, Miss Holt, carry on with my thesis, will you?"
She smiles and laughs slightly. "Well, uh, the link could be- anything. For example, did any of you appear in a picture together?"
"Well," Dorothy says, "Lloyd and I did "St. Louis Blues."

Laura almost flinches as Steele says, "William Frawley and Maddie Malnack and his Orchestra, Paramount, 1939. Yes-" Laura turns to look at him, and his smile fades.
"Don't forget "Johnny Apollo", Dotty," Lloyd says.
"Tyrone Power, Edward Arnold, Twentieth Century Fox, 19- uh, hm, 40." He's like a kid in a candy store. "Sorry," he tells a frustrated Laura.

"And you, Miss Mayo?"
"I've never had the pleasure."
"Okay, uh, let's look for something else," Laura decides, getting up. Steele sits in his chair. "Are any of you related? Did you invest money with the same individual? Did you ever go out with the same people? Well, we're obviously overlooking something," she insists, then stops. "In the last twenty four hours, an anonymous killer has come after each of you. There's got to be a connection."
"You said this all happened in the last day," Nolan points out. "Right?"
"Well, there has been ONE new element introduced into the life of each one of us during that time period."
"What's that?" Laura asks.
Nolan points to Steele. "Him."
Virginia says, "That's right."
"YOU," Dorothy says.
Steele smiles nervously.
Later, Steele and Laura are walking down the street as she eats some popcorn. "The notion is absurd, Laura," he insists. "The killer isn't after me. I mean, the fault isn't in ourselves, but in our stars." He takes some popcorn. "I mean, all we have to do is just find the proper clue."
"The stars may have a point, though. You were with one of them every time this crazy has struck." Laura comments.
"Coincidence." Steele says with emphasis.
"Are you sure no one from your fabled past has suddenly showed up to settle an old score?" Laura continues, still not convinced.
"Absolutely," he insists.
Laura glances across the street and sees a motorcycle driven by a rider dressed in black, and holding a gun. "LOOK OUT!" she screams, leaping forward, pulling him down with her, knocking over a stand with postcards, causing the postcards to fly everywhere, as the cyclist takes four shots, then rides away.
Both Steele and Laura look after the biker. Then Steele looks at Laura and straightens his tie as Laura looks back at him.
In Steele's apartment, later that evening, the following scene from "Johnny Apollo" can be heard and seen.

"The DA will find new evidence that Brennan was pumped. Was it a coincidence?" a much younger Dorothy Lamour says.

"Was Johnny involved?", the Lloyd Nolan's character asks.

"No, but I was." The woman responds.

Then Steele can be heard on the telephone. "Alright, the Palermo Brothers are dead, so that rules them outListen, Daniel, what about Edward O'Shaunessy?You remember, the Dublin Crusher.Oh, I see. Well, I guess he had it coming to him, didn't he?Alright, mate, okay. Well, listen, if you have an inspiration, don't hesitate to call, okay?...All rightYou too, mate...I will. Take care, Daniel okay." He hangs up.

"Well?" Laura asks.

"As far as I can tell, all my old adversaries are either deceased, incarcerated or otherwise accounted for." Steele explains, his hands now firmly behind his head, his eyes wandering between the TV screen and Laura.
"Then you must be forgetting someone."
He looks at her with a frown. "How many enemies do you think I have, Laura?"
"Mr. Steele, I have great respect for your ability to generate animosity around the globe-" she breaks off as he turns the TV. "What are you doing?"
"White Heat is on," he tells her as Jimmy Cagney's face fills the screen.
"Someone's trying to kill you, and you're gonna watch an old movie?"
"Hmm," he grunts. "I find it therapeutic. I think better when I relax."
Virginia Mayo is on the screen saying "You like strawberries, don't you? He bought them for you". Then Cagney comes on, looking annoyed, and next he is knocking a stool away from Mayo's character, causing her to fall backwards into a sofa.
"Anyway, regarding your enemies, need I mention Acapulco, Cannes, South America, Ireland-" Laura continues, taking her eyes off the screen.
"Now wait just a bloody minute! The last time something like this happened, someone was after YOUR Remington Steele! Remember?"
"Major Descoine is in prison. I checked."
Gesturing vividly, enforcing what he has to say, Steele continues, "Yes, but before I tumbled into your life, you managed to put quite a few people away who weren't even aware that Remington Steele didn't even exist. THEY didn't know that you created this shadow man to drum up business. I mean, now that I've slipped into Mr. Steele's shoes, there's any number of ill tempered people out there who'd like to perforate me for your previous efforts." He lifts his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry Laura. Sorry. Didn't mean to go on."
Laura sighs. "This case has got me jumpy too," she admits.
"Yes. When someone's trying to kill you, it's nice to have the relative advantage of knowing who and why."
"Don't worry. I won't let anyone harm Remington Steele." Steele's eyes repeatedly wander from the screen to Laura and back, his mouth faintly attempting a smile, as if uncertain what she really means . "Yours , mine or ours," she finishes, giving him a kiss on the cheek, Steele halfheartedly trying to return it.
Steele looks at Laura, and as he puts his right arm around her to pull her close for a kiss, a new person on the TV says , "We interrupt this program to bring you this special news bulletin."
As the report continues with a photo, Steele breaks the kiss and both look at the newscast . "The body of wealthy socialite Yvette Harwood was taken from her Malibu home last night. She died of a heart attack." Steele gets up to study the photo of Harwood. "Harwood, a vivacious and familiar face on the Hollywood scene, will be buried tomorrow at Park Grove Cemetery. We'll have more after this."
Steele turns off the TV. "Laura, I know that woman."
"Yvette Harwood?"
Steele thinks, then snaps his fingers. "Backstage at the dedication ceremonies. I went looking for Virginia Mayo, went in the wrong door and saw that woman embracing some man." He sits, still thinking as he remembers. "But you know, it's odd. She wasn't really dressed for the ceremonies. Come to think of it, she wasn't very lively, either."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I don't know. I mean, at first, I thought she was relaxed, but-her head and her arm were limp. Right after I saw them, the first attempt happened on my life."
"Did the man see you?"
He recalls the moment. "Yes. Tall. Good looking fellow. Mustache. Like one of your American football players."
"You may've just described a murderer. It could be that when you saw Yvette Harwood, she was already dead- and not from a heart attack."
"Well, if that's the truth, then the man I saw will get rid of me."
"The question is, who is he?"
Steele sits back, thoughtful.
"The room was ablaze with ideas," Steele tells Mildred as we see him pacing, Laura sitting on the sofa, hugging a pillow , each about to speak, then stopping. "But we didn't have the chance to act upon them."
The doorbell rings. "Who is it?" Steele calls.
Steele and Laura go to the door. "Ah, Mr. Nolan. Hello."
"Hello, Miss Holt."
"Hello, Mr. Nolan."
"My, you two certainly put in a lot of hours together," he comments.
"We never close," she tells him, smilingly .
"You know, Steele, I'm sorry to bother you at home, but- since you have decided to put your life on the line to save mine, however mistakenly, I've done you a favor."
"Oh, really?"
"Julian, come in," Nolan calls, and a tall, muscular young man enters. "This is my cousin's youngster, Julian."
"Pleasure to meet you," Steele says, shaking Julian's hand.
"You see, having watched you at work, Steele, I've decided that you need some muscle." Steele looks put out. "No disrespect, but let's face it. Dirty Harry you ain't." Steele smiles at that as do Laura and Nolan.
The phone rings, and Laura goes to answer. "Mr Steele's residence. Laura Holt speaking." She listens as Steele closes the door behind Nolan and Julian. "Stay right there and don't worry. We'll be right over." She hangs up and runs past Steele toward the door. "Let's go," she says.
"Where?" Steele asks.
Laura grabs her purse. "That was Virginia Mayo. It was about Yvette Harwood. I'll explain in the car."
"Mr. Nolan, thanks for your offer, but this Harwood matter- the attempt on my life and everything like that-I-"
"Listen," Nolan interrupts, "will you stop talking and move?!"
"My sentiments exactly," Laura agrees as a chastened Steele leaves the apartment.
"Is he always that talky?" Nolan asks Laura as he follows. "Yakity-yak- yakity," he complains. Julian pulls the door closed behind them.
Laura tells Mildred, "Virginia Mayo and Dorothy Lamour had known Yvette Harwood through her involvement in the Hollywood community." The limo sits outside Virginia's house. Inside, Virginia, Dorothy, Nolan, Julian, Steele and Laura are sitting.
"When they learned of her death, they were very concerned," Laura finishes.
Virginia tells Laura, "Yvette was vulnerable. Sweet, but not too bright. After she was widowed, she became easy pickin's for every louse in town."
"Her latest affair was a disaster," Dorothy confides.
"She told you?" Laura asks.
"In so many words. The guy was using her, but she just couldn't see it that way."
"Who was the dead beat?" Nolan asks.
"Well," Virginia tells them, "she wouldn't say. But the last time I saw her, she said she was thinking of dropping the guy. She was a changed woman, very depressed. She even had trouble getting out of bed."
"You told Miss Holt on the phone that you thought Yvette was in some kind of trouble," Steele says.
Nolan says, "Make it a question, Steele. Short and direct." Steele nods. "Ginny, why did you think Yvette was in trouble?"
"Intuition more than anything," Virginia answers. Nolan glances at Steele, who nods.
"But, when we found out how she died, we were sure," Dorothy finishes.
"Yvette was a health nut," Virginia tells them. "She ate all the right foods. She ran five miles a day on the beach. She did the Jane Fonda workout tape."
"You'll never convince me she died of a heart attack," Dorothy adds. "That woman never had a sick day in her life!"
Laura looks at Steele. He raises his brows.
In the back seat of the limo, Dorothy, Laura, Remington, and Julian are all squished like sardines.
"Uh, Julian, would you mind, uh, moving your biceps a tad to the left?" Remington asks. Julian obliges and Remington says, "Thank you... thank you" as he shifts his position and puts his arm around Laura. He's not making a romantic move; he's merely trying to get more comfortable.
From the front seat, Nolan inquires, "What kind of artillery you packing, Steele?"
"His gun is back at the office," Laura informs him.
"I don't know how you made it this far, Steele!" Nolan declares.
Remington wilts a bit more.
The group adjourns to the Harwood house. Steele is trying to pick the lock as Nolan and the others
watch. Nervous, it takes him longer, and Nolan isn't impressed. He glances at his watch. "Awfully slow, Steele," he chastises.
"Stage fright," Steele tells him, finally getting the lock. The group enters the house, Julian bringing up the rear.
They go to Yvette's bedroom, begin searching. Steele examines a painting on the wall. "What are you doing, Steele?" Nolan asks.
"Looking for a safe," he explains. "It might contain something relevant, you know, like documents, papers, diaries."
"Keep up with the times, Steele," Nolan admonishes, going to an enclosed table. "Wall safes went out with vaudeville." He pulls the front of the table away to reveal a safe. "Ahh."
"Well, yes," Steele comments. "That was gonna be my next choice." He kneels and starts working on the safe as Laura returns from the bathroom carrying a bottle.
"Prescribed for depression," she tells them.
"Well, somebody's on the ball, at least," Nolan comments.
Steele's having problems with the safe. He grunts. "The handle- on this safe is a little- stiff," he declares.
"Julian," Nolan says.
Julian takes Steele's place. "Excuse me, sir."
"Oh," Steele says, getting up and out of the way. Julian grabs the handle and turns it- breaking it off. He stands and hands it to Steele. "Thank you very much."
"You're welcome, sir," Julian says.
Steele returns to the safe and opens it. "Here we go," he says, handing out bits of paper and folders to the women. Dorothy gets the jewelry box.
Opening it, she says, "That's odd."
"What?" Steele asks.
"Most of her jewelry is gone."
"Well, it could be in a safe deposit box," Nolan points out.
Virginia replies, "No. She liked to keep it around."
Laura looks at the bank records. "It seems most of it was sold off," she tells them. "There are deposits here from the sales. The balance is down to almost nothing, though. For the past few months, she'd written big checks to- Templeton Enterprises."
"That heel?" Virginia comments.
"Who?" Steele questions.
"Ernest Templeton," she explains. "Calls himself a producer, but he's really just a fast talking conman." Laura looks at Steele. "Most of his projects never make it to the screen, but he always manages to walk away with a fist full of dough."
"He had the gall to ask me to do a picture for him awhile back," Dorothy informs them. "I told him to get lost."
"Describe him," Laura says.
"Six foot two, mustache, broad shoulders," Virginia recounts as Steele looks at her. "I think he used to play semi-pro football."
"The man I saw with Yvette backstage at the ceremony," Steele tells Laura.
"That's fits," Dorothy tells them. "He used to donate money to the Archives."
"Trying to buy some respectability, huh?" Nolan suggests.
Steele sits down as Laura rises. "Try this for a scenario," she begins. "Templeton seduces Yvette into giving him large amounts of money. Yvette finally realized she's been taken, she found Templeton backstage at the ceremony- she threatened to go to the police, he killed her, and brought her back here."
"Well, I buy that," Nolan agrees. Virginia nods as well.
At the window, Julian tells them, "Someone's coming."
"Quick," Steele tells them, moving to turn off the light, "Scatter." He hides as well.
Templeton enters the room with a flashlight and goes to the safe. He kneels, and Steele turns on the lights. "Looking for this?" he asks.
Templeton, seeing the checkbook in Steele's hand, and the others around him, pushes the lamp from the table, sending the room into darkness again. He makes a run for the door. There's a lot of confusion, the door is closed, and someone turns on a light.
Julian has Laura pinned high on the door, Steele and Nolan are locked together. "There's a nice move, Steele," he comments dryly.
"Sorry," Steele apologizes, releasing him. Julian lowers Laura to her feet.
"Hurry," Dorothy tells them, "he's getting away!"
Laura pulls the door open and the group takes off.
"Come on, driver," Nolan orders Fred, "Burn some rubber!" as they follow Templeton's car in the limo.
Templeton stops before his office and runs inside. The limo comes to a stop and Steele runs out, following Templeton into the building. When Laura would have followed, Nolan stops her. "Miss Holt! By the book, Miss Holt, we've got him trapped! Call for back up!"
Laura looks uncertainly from the building to Nolan. "Right!" she agrees, then rushes inside as well.
The building is dark, filled with movie props. "Mr. Steele," she whispers. Moving forward, she hears a noise. She moves on, and suddenly someone grabs her from behind , placing a hand over her mouth and pulling her between some cases.
"Shh," Steele warns. "Shh, shh, shh."
They move out and are almost hit by a totem pole. They go the other way. An antique bi-plane hangs from the ceiling. As they start past it, the machine begins to move, swinging toward them. The duo retreats for safety as the plane crashes into the floor.
Looking across the room, they see Templeton climbing a ladder to a catwalk.
"That tears it," Steele declares.
Laura grabs his arm. "Maybe we should wait for the police," she suggests.
"What? HE tries to run me over, shoot me full of bullet holes, and now he's dropped a Sopwith Camel on us. Come on, let's grab the bugger!" he climbs over the plane to follow Templeton.
He and Laura take different ladders to the catwalk, effectively pinning Templeton between them. A fight ensues, where Templeton slaps Laura, causing her to fall on the catwalk and thereafter he tries to knock Steele down with his feet. Steele escapes the attack, starting to wrestle Templeton. Laura grabs a metal rod and hits Templeton over his back and Templeton is finally being hit by Steele and falls to the floor below.
Laura and Steele look down at him. The catwalk starts collapsing, and Laura grabs his arm. "Stop admiring your work and get out of here!" she yells. The jump off of the catwalk onto the ladder against the wall as the walk collapses.
"I don't get it," Mildred says. "That's the end of the story. So how did the two of you get hurt?" she asks.
Hanging on the ladder, Steele and Laura smile, then cry out as the ladder breaks away and falls backward to the floor.
"Oh," Mildred says.
Back in the hospital, Steele smiles as he looks at a newspaper with the headline, "Steele Traps Harwood Killer." "Not bad, eh?" he asks Mildred.
"Yeah," she agrees, "but something doesn't add up."
His smile fades as he looks at her. "What, Mildred?"
"If Yvette Harwood was killed at the ceremonies, why was the cause of death listed as 'heart
Laura looks at Steele, he looks at her. "Who signed the death certificate?" Laura questions.
Steele looks at the paper. "Uh, Dr. Roger Chandler." He does a doubletake. "Why is that name so familiar?" He flashes back to backstage after his accident.
The house doctor takes a card out. "Why don't you give me a call tomorrow, if you have any discomfort?"

Steele reads the name on the card. "Roger Chandler, M.D."
"Of course. The doctor who treated me at the ceremonies. It says here, he's Mrs. Harwood's personal physician. As it happened, he was acting as house doctor at the Archive ceremonies when he received an urgent phone call from her at nine o'clock. She was complaining of pains in her chest."
Laura recalls the doctor getting the page, and saying, "I thought being the house doctor tonight meant a relaxing evening for me."
"That's right," Laura says. "His beeper went off."
"The doctor says he rushed to her house, but she was already dead."
"But that's impossible," Laura points out. "Mrs. Harwood couldn't have called him, because you'd just seen her backstage."
"Those beepers can be self activated, you know," Mildred tells them.
"The doctor was in on it," Laura realizes.
"Mildred," Steele says, "Call the police, straightaway."
She picks up the phone. "That's funny. There's no dial tone." She puts it down. "I'll try at the nurses' station." She goes into the corridor.
"Dorothy Lamour said Yvette had become a changed woman since she became involved with Templeton," Laura reminds Steele. "Do you remember those pills I found in Yvette's bathroom?"
"Um humm."
She digs into her purse. Taking the bottle out, she reads, "For depression. Prescribed by Dr. Chandler. You know, I'll bet anything that once these are analyzed, they'll be found to contain drugs that deepen depression, not cure it."
"The pills would have kept Yvette's mind foggy, making it easier for Templeton to influence her to write him checks."
"No doubt Templeton had an insurance policy on her as well."
"Templeton and the good doctor milked her for all she was worth while she was alive, then arranged one big final payoff."
"Chandler and Templeton would have had perfect alibis. They were both at the awards ceremony. When Chandler didn't know Yvette had spoiled things by coming to the ceremony, he proceeded as planned. He tripped his beeper in the presence of witnesses, then went on to Yvette Harwood's house, expecting to find her depressed and in bed-"
"Where he could easily kill her and then certify that she died of a heart attack," Steele finishes. "Chandler and Templeton split the insurance money and then walk away and no one's any wiser. It would have worked, too, if I hadn't gone looking for Virginia Mayo."
"I never thought I'd be grateful for your infatuation with Hollywood," Laura sighs, then looks at the door. "What's taking Mildred so long?" she wonders.
"I don't know. Go check," Steele tells her.
Laura levers herself on the crutch, and hops outside. The corridor is empty. She goes back in to Steele. "No one's on the floor," she tells him. "It's like a tomb out there."
Steele looks alarmed. "The Godfather." Laura sags. "Marlon Brando, Al Pacino, 1972. One of Brando's enemies clears the hospital where he's recovering just so he can set up a murder. Quick, Laura, get us out of here." She hops over. "Come on, quick! Quick, quick, quick!"
Chandler enters the room. "And how are we this morning?" he asks brightly. Laura turns to look at him. "I went through Harwood's house last night, after I heard about Templeton. And I believe you have something of mine. A bottle of pills. Pity." He knocks Laura's crutch out from under her causing her to fall to the floor .
"Laura!" Steele yells, crying out as the doctor pulls the pillow from under Steele's legs and then starts suffocating him with it.
Laura gathers her wits and unties the sandbag attached to Steele's right forearm. Without the weight, the plaster encased arm comes down on Chandler's head, knocking him unconscious.
Steele lowers the pillow, catching his breath as Laura crawls up to kneel beside the bed. "Nice right, Mr. Steele," she tells him, clasping his fingers with hers.
Later, Mildred, her head wrapped in bandages, is saying, "A sap the size of DiMaggio's glove. The world exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors. I reached for the wall, but it wasn't there." Laura and Steele are both in his bed, listening to her tell the story. "A black hole opened at my feet, and I fell into the beckoning vortex."
Virginia, Dorothy and Nolan listen to her tell the tale. "Hey," Nolan says. "She's good."
"Eat lead Krebs we call her," Steele says as Laura smiles.
"I like that," Nolan agrees.
"We want to thank you again for trying to protect us," Virginia explains.
"Even though you did almost get us all killed," Dorothy adds.
"All in a day's work, eh?" Steele asks as Laura smiles.
The End