Forgotten Steele

Part Six

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Remington noticed the Rabbit sitting at least two blocks away from the museum as the cab passed. So Laura HAD come here after all. Or, rather, Tracy had. At the rear door of the building, he found two uniformed guards. He recalled having seen both of them earlier in the evening as they had come on duty. "Still quiet?" he asked.

"Dead quiet, Mr. Steele. Nothing going on at all."

"Hmm. Where's Sgt. Compton?" he asked as the guard let him pass.

"He's in the security room."

"Neither of you have seen my associate this evening, have you?"

Both men shook their heads. "Nope. And there's no way into this place without passing one of our guys."

"Keep a sharp eye out," Remington reminded them as he moved away. He examined the rooms, speaking to most of the guards, even stopped in the gem room doorway. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. The cases were intact, and even from here he could see the gleam of light on the gems.

As he entered the security room, he wondered where she had gotten off to, what she was planning to do. Roy Compton was sitting at a table filled with snow filled video-monitoring screens, finishing a cup of coffee. "What happened to the surveillance cameras?" he asked the overweight middle aged man who stood when he realized he was no longer alone.

"Uh- Mr. Steele. They went down just after you left."

"Did you call the company?"

"Yeah. They offered to send someone out, but I thought since there were so many of us here tonight that it wasn't an emergency. I told them they could send someone out tomorrow. No sense in having people coming and going at all hours. Too easy for someone to slip in and steal the gems that way."

Remington nodded. "How long ago did they go down?" he asked.

Compton glanced at his wristwatch. "Oh, about an hour ago, I guess. Speaking of which, I have to go relieve Joe and Frank at the gem room. Let em get some coffee and walk around a little. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Um- you haven't by any chance seen Miss Holt in the last hour or so, have you?"

"Sorry. You're the only one who's come in from outside all night." He put down his empty cup and nodded as he left the room.

Remington frowned, tapping one of the monitors closest to him. Strange that they would all go down at the same time- and tonight. Could Tracy Lord have done something to them earlier, he wondered, as he reached behind the machines, jiggling cords.

"I don't know, Joe," Frank said as he and his partner entered the room. "I still say he's not acting like himself. Hello, Mr. Steele," he said, pouring a cup of coffee as he watched Remington inspect the cables.

Remington pushed the connection for the cable all the way into the monitor- and then verified the connection at the board. "Hey, I thought Roy said that wasn't working?" Frank commented, and Remington looked at the monitor. The static was gone, leaving a black and white picture of the back alleyway.

"Which one of these is the monitor for the gem room?" Remington asked.


Tracy remained in the dark corner behind one of the display cases in the back of the gem room, watching. She wasn't certain WHAT she was watching for, but she knew that if she didn't pay attention to the feeling she had about the gems, she was going to lose them to someone else. She grinned as she recalled gaining access to the building. The only thing that was underguarded was the roof- and the air conditioning vents that honeycombed through the museum. It had been child's play to access the vent on the top of the building, lower herself down to where she could reach the vent on the floor near her. But she had to wonder as well why no one had picked her up on the surveillance cameras.

Another guard relieved the two who had just spoken to Remington. This one was older, heavyset, with a bald-head and an ever-present frown. Tracy frowned as well, recalling Remington's insistence earlier that teams be used to guard the building.

As she watched, the man, whose name she recalled was Compton, stood in the doorway and reached inside to the security panel. He inserted what had to be the master key and turned it, then pressed a button on the panel before entering the room. Tracy tensed, wondering what he was up to. Compton glanced at the doorway; then, believing himself unobserved went toward the center case- the one containing the Royal Lavulite.

Tracy moved slowly and carefully around the perimeter of the room, considering her options. She could go find Remington- IF he was still here. Or, she could wait until Compton lifted the case, knock him out, and take the gems. But she's given Remington her word not to do that. That only left one option.

She waited until Compton was at the center case, then moved to a spot just below the security panel. Compton had left the key in the panel- sloppy of him, Tracy thought, watching as he released the latch on the case and began to lift it. She reached up, turning the key and pressing the button next to it.


Remington jiggled the wire, and then glanced at the monitor that showed the gem room. Seeing Laura and Compton, he muttered, "Bloody HELL!" at the same moment that the alarm began to blare. "Damn," he added, leading the two guards from the room toward the gem room. The other guards were heading toward them. "Stay at your post!" he yelled at them.

Compton tried again to lift the case, but Tracy threw herself at him, knocking them both across the room. As Remington, Joe, and Frank entered, Compton shoved Tracy back at them- right into Remington's arms, and sending both of them into Joe and Frank. He took advantage of their surprise to escape the room.

"He's getting away!" Tracy told Remington. She took off, and Remington followed, telling Joe, "Stay here- close the case, reset the alarm."

They met the two guards from the rear door in the hall. "Sgt. Compton told us to report to you, Mr. Steele," the first one said. "That someone tried to steal the gems."

"Where is Compton?" Remington asked them.

They looked behind them. "I thought he was behind us," he said.

"Man your posts," Remington ordered as he followed Tracy from the building. "Secure it- we'll be right back."

Tracy came out on the street. "Damn!" she raged. "We LOST him!"

Remington nodded, out of breath. "Apparently. Why are you so angry? He's one of your compadres, isn't he?" he asked her.

"No. He's not. He's a competitor!" she said, heading back toward the museum. "He's after MY gems!"

Remington shook his head at her anger as they regained entrance to the museum. The telephone was ringing in the security office, and he picked it up. "Steele here . . . Mr. Burton," he said, grabbing Tracy's hand as she started to move away. "Yes, yes, everything's under control . . .Yes, there was an attempt- one of the security personnel, we believe . . . Yes, we're checking on it now . . .No, no. There's no need for you to come down here. I doubt he'll try again tonight. We'll be waiting for him tomorrow . . . Goodnight." He hung up the telephone with a sigh and looked at Tracy. "I need to call the security company. Sit."

Tracy sat down in a chair, looking at the monitors. "What's up with those?"

"Someone pulled the plugs- probably Compton," he told her, waiting for the security service to answer the telephone.

After talking to Compton's employer, and receiving the assurance that someone else was being sent out to take his place, Remington and Laura went to speak to the other guards. "How long have you known Sgt. Compton?" Remington asked Frank.

"Years. He's about ready to retire. That's why I thought he was acting strange earlier."

"Could you explain that?"

"Well, usually Roy just sits in the security room or command area, watching TV or reading. Tonight, he was constantly checking on us, insisting that he would give us a break or two." He held out the master security panel key. "You might want to hold onto this."

Remington took it, and glanced from it to Tracy. "Miss Holt and I will stay until your boss arrives to take over. We'll be in the security room, trying to get those monitors working again."

The other guards told a similar tale. Roy Compton had NOT been acting like himself at all. As the last monitor screen cleared, the telephone rang. Remington picked it up. "Steele here."

"Oh, Mr. Steele. I didn't expect you to answer the phone," Mildred said.

"Well, yes. We've had a bit of trouble here. Someone tried to steal the gems."

"Not- Miss Holt?" she asked, obviously worried.

"No. The Security sergeant," he told her. "Roy Compton. Have you gotten to him yet?"

"Not yet." He heard her moving papers. "According to this, he's nearly sixty six, lives by himself, drives a beat up old Dodge."

"Hmm. Not someone you would picture as a jewel thief," Remington mused.

"Oh, that's why I called, Chief. I think I've got a lead on a thief who uses that drug that was given to Gwen Stewart. He's a master of disguise. No one knows what he looks like or what his real name is. The Chameleon. He uses the drug to keep the person he's going to impersonate out of circulation until he's finished the job."

Remington took a pen from his pocket and found a slip of paper. "What's Compton's address, Mildred?" She gave it to him. "Thanks. We'll meet you back at the office later."

"I'll be here."

He hung up and looked at the door as the owner of Simpson Security came into the room. "Mr. Steele. Avery Simpson. It's a pleasure to meet you face to face at last."

"Same here. I just wish it were under more pleasant circumstances."

Simpson smiled at the woman at Remington's side. "How are you doing, Laura?"

She smiled tightly. "I'd be much better if we could find out why one of your men tried to steal those gems."

Simpson frowned at her attitude, his eyes moving to Remington, who shook his head, feigning confusion. "Tell me what happened."

***

As they approached the Rabbit a few minutes later, Remington asked, "Is this thing driveable now that you hot-wired it?"

"Who said I hot-wired it?" she asked, holding up a set of keys. "Got them out of Miss Krebs' purse after I tied her up."

"I should warn you," he said, taking the keys from her, "she's NOT very happy with you at the moment."

"I TOLD you that I wasn't going to let you come back here alone," she reminded him as he opened the car door for her.

He got behind the steering wheel, and paused. "Speaking of keys, why didn't you pull the master key out of the control panel when you had the chance?"

"I considered it," she told him honestly. "But then I remembered that I'd given you my word that I wouldn't steal the gems until they were out of your jurisdiction. So that key wouldn't have done me any good."

Remington shook his head and started the engine. Maybe she HAD learned a few things from him after all.

***

Roy Compton's house was small, with a well-kept yard and little white picket fence. "Rather homey, wouldn't you say?" Remington commented.

Tracy frowned as he knocked on the door. "I'm not a fan of white picket fences," she said darkly. "Reminds me of all the things I've never had."

Remington knocked again. "No answer." He drew his pick kit from a pocket. "Keep an eye out, please."

She moved toward the edge of the porch as he worked. "What makes this so different from what I do?" she asked.

"You mean besides the fact that when you do it, it's with the intent to relieve the people on the other side of the door of their hard earned money?" he asked as the door opened. Looking in at the dark interior of the house, he called, "Mr. Compton?"

Tracy rubbed her arms. "I've got goose bumps," she told him.

"It's never a good sign when someone doesn't answer," he agreed. They entered the house cautiously, expecting to find an angry Compton lying in wait- or worse.

It was worse. Roy Compton was in his bed, and Remington felt for a pulse as Tracy hung back, watching. "Is he-?"

"It would appear so." He took out a handkerchief and picked up the nearby telephone.

"Who are you calling?"

"The police."

"The police? We don't even know that he was murdered. It could have been natural causes. Look at him. He's middle aged, overweight, probably drank and smoked to excess. A prime candidate for a heart attack or stroke if I've ever seen one."

"That's true. But considering the condition in which Mildred found Gwen Stewart this morning- or, rather, yesterday morning, there is a very good possibility that Compton was given the same drug which incapacitated her. And the doctors said that someone in less good health might have died." He spoke to the police, then turned to her. "We might as well sit down in the front room until they get here."

To Be Continued . . .

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Original content ©1999 by Nancy Eddy