Linked Steele Part 5

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Linked Steele
Part Five
As Remington exited the elevator, he took note of several things: first, there seemed to be policemen everywhere; second, the apartment door was open; and third, he could hear familiar voices coming from inside.

"Then you've never seen the young woman before this morning?" Lt. Jarvis of the Los Angeles Police Department asked the distraught middle aged woman who was sitting in a chair.

"No. Never. In fact, I've never found ANY woman here- except for Miss Holt, of course. But she wasn't in the- bed. That poor girl--" she moaned, lifting a tissue to her already red eyes. As she did so, she glanced up and saw Remington in the doorway. "Oh, Mr. Steele," she said, rising to meet him halfway. "I'm so glad you're all right. When I found that poor girl--"

Remington patted his housekeeper's arm. "There, there, Maude," he muttered, looking at Jarvis. Jarvis was a homicide detective. Which meant- "That poor girl? Rachel?" he said, releasing Maude to turn toward the bedroom door, aware that Jarvis was only a step behind.

The coroner's men were just finishing placing a black body bag onto a gurney when he entered the room. "Oh dear God," he sighed, wincing as he noticed the bloodstains on the bed. "What the hell happened here?" he asked Jarvis.

"I was hoping you could tell me that, Mr. Steele," the detective pointed out. "Mrs. Dawson found her already dead when she arrived this morning and called us." He looked askance at Remington's ragged appearance. "Early morning? Or late night?"

"A bit of both, actually," Remington replied absently, looking around the room. "How was she killed?"

"She was stabbed," Jarvis told him. "We haven't found the murder weapon in the apartment." He pulled Steele from the room as the coroner's men wheeled the gurney from the room and left the apartment. "Who was she?"

"Rachel-" Remington paused, trying to recall the last name she'd put on the bogus marriage license that was in the office safe. "Parker. She was an actress. Or she wanted to be." He sat down heavily. "She was a confused, frightened young woman who found herself in deeper trouble than she realized."

"Was she a client?" Jarvis asked.

"Not - really." He ran a hand over his face. "Listen, Detective - I'll be more than glad to tell you everything I know about Rachel - but I'd prefer Miss Holt be present -"

"Where is Miss Holt?" Jarvis asked.

"Working on a case."

"Do you know how I can contact her husband?" Jarvis asked.

Remington blinked. "Husband?"

"She was wearing a wedding ring," Jarvis told him. "It wasn't stolen, so that rules out robbery as a motive."

"She's - not married." Remington frowned. "Look, Lt. Jarvis-"

"How long had you known MISS - Parker?"

"Just since yesterday morning-"

"And why was she staying in your apartment?"

Remington lifted his eyes to Jarvis'. "I said I'd answer all your questions, Lieutenant-"

Jarvis met that look for a long, interminable moment. "All right. I'll be at your office in an hour." Jarvis looked at the two officers who had come from the bedroom. "You guys finished in there?" They nodded. "Mrs. Dawson, thank you. I'll be in touch. And Mr. Steele- don't take any sudden trips, okay?"

Remington nodded, his attention caught by the two officers placing yellow tape across his bedroom door. "Is that really necessary, Jarvis?"

"Sorry. It's a murder scene. Off limits. Hope you have somewhere else you can stay-" he said, following the two men to the door.

"For how long?" Remington asked, rising as well to show them out. "A day? A week?"

Jarvis looked at him. "As long as it takes for me to find the person who killed Rachel Parker," he said, nodding amiably in Maude's direction. "Ma'am. One hour, Mr. Steele. You AND Miss Holt."

"We'll be there," Remington said again, trying to reassure the boyish detective, then closed the door behind him.

Maude looked at him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Steele. I was so stunned -"

"It's okay, Maude," he said softly. "It's okay."

She looked around the slightly untidy apartment. "I don't know if I can work today," she told him in a shaky voice. "I mean-"

Remington placed a hand on her arm. "It's all right. If you'll just answer a few questions -"

"I've already told that nice young Detective Jarvis everything I know-"

"Not about-" he indicated the taped off room, "what happened here. I need to know if you've taken on any new clients- met anyone lately who might look a bit like me?"

Maude's light blue eyes narrowed in concentration. "No. I'm sure I'd know if I'd met someone else who's as handsome as you are, Mr. Steele. The only new client I've taken is Mr. Reed. And he's nearly ninety -"

"Did you happen to mention to anyone that Miss Holt was going to Connecticut last weekend to attend a wedding and that I was going to be staying here alone?"

She looked a bit embarrassed. "Well,- I MIGHT have mentioned it to Mr. Reed. He's a big fan of yours, Mr. Steele," she said by way of explaining herself. "He even has a scrapbook of your cases."

"A scrapbook? Really?"

She nodded. "He's a shut in - doesn't go out at all that I can tell. And I've never seen any signs of visitors - I guess I feel a little sorry for him. No family or such. So when I'm working there, we talk. He always asks me what you're doing. I hope you don't mind, Mr. Steele."

Remington patted her arm again. "No, of course not. But- perhaps Mr. Reed would like a visit from me, eh?" he suggested. "Where does he live?"

**********

Laura entered the main office to find Remington standing at the window, his hands in his pockets. "I just talked to Murray Simon," she announced. "He told me that he's never met the man who hired Rachel - but he did confirm that the man claimed to be Remington Steele- and that he had an Irish accent." She looked around. "Where's Rachel?" she asked.

"At the morgue," Remington told her softly.

"The- morgue?" Laura repeated. "What happened?"

"I've no idea. Maude arrived early today and found Rachel's body in my bed." He turned from the window to face her as she joined him.

"Oh, no," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "How-?"

"She was stabbed to death. The police are still looking for the murder weapon. I noticed they were digging through the dumpsters behind the building when I came in."

Laura lifted her eyes to his. "Are you okay?"

"It gets worse, Laura," he told her. "Det. Jarvis should be here any moment."

"Jarvis? He's on the case?"

"Yes. I think I'm going to tell him the whole story, Laura-" he said.

"That's a good idea," Jarvis said from the doorway. Laura and Remington turned to look at him. "Miss Krebs wasn't at her desk, so I decided to announce myself," he explained.

"Detective Jarvis," Laura said, stepping forward, hand out, pasting on her best smile, "How nice to see you again."

"Wish it were under better circumstances," Jarvis pointed out.

"Yes," Laura agreed, the smile fading a bit. "How can we help you?"

"You can start by telling me how a dead woman wound up in Mr. Steele's bed." Seeing the look that was exchanged between Laura and Remington, Jarvis sighed. "Look, I've got a LOT of questions. I think you'd both rather answer them here instead of downtown, am I right?"

Remington held out a hand toward Laura, leaving the final decision up to her. "Why don't we sit down?" she suggested. "This might take a few minutes to explain." Once they were seated, Jarvis gave her an expectant look. "I guess the best place to begin would be- two months ago," Laura began. "When I received an invitation to my cousin Agnes' wedding in Connecticut. My mother promised Agnes that I'd be a bridesmaid without consulting me. Last Friday afternoon, Mr. Steele saw me off at the airport-"

Jarvis looked at Remington. "You didn't go with her?"

"No. I didn't feel right about going- it being a family gathering and all that. So I decided to spend a quiet weekend at home - catching up on some paperwork, relaxing -" He ignored Laura's reaction to his comment about "paperwork" and forged ahead. "I didn't leave the apartment all weekend."

"You didn't meet Laura when she returned?"

"My flight didn't land until well after midnight yesterday morning," Laura explained. "We had both just barely arrived in the office yesterday when Rachel appeared,- claiming to be Mrs. Remington Steele, complete with marriage license and wedding rings to prove it. . . "

Jarvis listened to the story as they told him about what Mildred had discovered in Las Vegas; and about Remington's apparent telephone problems over the weekend, and his attention focused further as Remington related his conversation with Rachel."

"And then you left the apartment?" he asked. "And it was the last time you saw Rachel Parker alive?"

"Yes."

"Where did you go?" Jarvis asked, and Remington thought he heard the second shoe dropping.

"He came to see me, Jimmy," Laura answered, causing Remington to look at her in surprise. "To tell me what Rachel had told him."

"Why leave her alone?" Jarvis questioned. "Why not take her to Laura's with you? Or have Laura join the two of you in your apartment?"

"I thought she'd be safe there, Lieutenant," Remington pointed out. "And until that marriage was proven a fraud beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt, I didn't feel right staying there with her."

"So you and Laura talked. What time did you leave?"

Remington looked at Laura again before answering. "Well, actually, I- didn't," he admitted.

The homicide detective sat back. "I see."

"No, you DON'T, Jimmy," Laura rushed to say. "Mr. Steele DID stay the night at my apartment. But he slept on the sofa."

His eyes focused on her. "And you're sure that he was there all night?"

"Positive. I'm a light sleeper," she told him. "And there's no way in HELL he could have gotten out of there and back in without my hearing him."

Remington sat forward. "Look, Lieutenant, the only thing that could have happened is that this faux Steele somehow got into the apartment and killed Rachel."

"Maybe," Jarvis admitted reluctantly. "You don't have a name? No other description than the one you've given me?"

"That- and the Irish accent that everyone's mentioned," Laura nodded.

"Any idea why he's doing all this?" Jarvis asked. "Disgruntled former client, someone you put away? A jealous husband, maybe?"

"I've been trying to come up with someone who might possibly be holding a grudge this big," Remington told him. "I can't think of anyone. The last time something like this happened, Major Descoine was behind it. But he's still securely locked away -"

"And cold blooded murder isn't quite Descoine's style," Jarvis agreed.

"He tried to kill US, once, if you'll recall," Laura reminded him. "And his daughter's still out there somewhere. SHE might be behind it."

"I'll do some checking," Jarvis agreed, standing up. "I'll be in touch. Remember what I said about trips, Mr. Steele. And Laura-"

Expecting him to remind her to keep an eye on Remington, Laura smiled. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I want to be clear on something. If YOU are Mr. Steele's alibi- then that means that HE is yours, right?"

Laura's smiled faded as she met Remington's concerned blue gaze. "I- suppose so," she confirmed slowly.

Jarvis nodded. "Like I said, I'll be in touch." He paused at the doorway. "If you get anymore information about this- mystery man, you know my number."

Laura moved to watch him leave the office. "Why do I get the feeling that he didn't believe most of what we told him?"

"Because he thinks that *I* killed Rachel," Remington told her.

Laura looked at him. "I TOLD him you were with me-"

Remington put a hand on her arm. "Given our professional- and personal relationship, Laura, any alibi you give is going to suspect. Tell the truth, if you were investigating this case, and the partner of the person you suspect said that they were together at the time of the murder, would you believe it?"

"I guess not," Laura agreed.

"The best thing we can do is find this impostor and turn him over to Jarvis."

"And to accomplish that, I think a visit to Rachel's apartment in the Valley is in order," Laura decided. "Maybe we'll find something there. She did say that they met there."

Remington nodded, indicating that she should lead the way. "And on the way back, we'll stop by Felix Reed's."

Laura looked up at him. "Who's Felix Reed?" she asked.

As they moved toward the glass doors, he said, "I'll explain on the way."

**********

Jimmy Jarvis smiled as he spoke to the night doorman of the Rossmore Arms apartment building. "Freddy, - I can call you Freddy, I hope? - You're sure you didn't see Mr. Steele all evening?"

"I'm positive, Lt. Jarvis," the man said. "He left just as I was coming on duty and I didn't see him again."

"And what time did you go off duty?"

"Eight this morning."

And Maude Dawson's call to the police had come at eight thirty, Jarvis mused. "Did you see anyone suspicious? Anyone you didn't expect to see?"

"Well, I didn't see a person, but I THOUGHT I saw Miss Holt's little white car. You know, the Volkswagen Rabbit that she drives?"

Jarvis looked directly at Freddy. "What time was this?"

"Oh, around three this morning, I guess. Never saw Miss Holt, though."

"Is there any other way that - someone could have gotten inside the building without your seeing them?" Jarvis asked hypothetically.

"Sure. There's a couple of other entrances. They all lead to the elevators, though, and I'd see them then."

"What about the door for the stairs?" Jarvis wondered. "Is that in sight of your post?"

"Well, not really. Not many people who live in the building use the stairs, though." He grinned. "I don't see Mr. Steele climbing up all those flights."

"No, I suppose not," Jarvis agreed. "It would take someone pretty athletically inclined to make that little trek, wouldn't it? Someone like, say - Miss Holt?"

"Now HER, I could see climbing all the way up-" As if he realized what he'd just said, Freddy began to shake his head. "But I'm sure she didn't. Like I said, I never saw her. Might not have been her car. Lots of white Rabbits in LA."

"Yeah. You're right. Thank you, Freddy. You've been a help."

Jarvis went to his car and started the engine as he made a call. "That's right. Meet me at the parking garage - and make sure you have that warrant with you. I don't want to make any mistakes on this." He only hoped he was wrong, he prayed as he turned the car into traffic.

**********

There were two squad cars parked beside the white VW Rabbit as Jarvis drew his car to a stop and turned off the engine. One of the officers got out and handed him a piece of paper. "Here you go, Lieutenant."

Jarvis looked at it. "Okay. Start searching. Have you found Mr. Steele or Miss Holt?"

"No, sir, the gate guard said that they left in the limo right after you did."

Jarvis watched as his men opened the car and started looking inside. "Nothing in here, sir," Gandy said. "Want me to open the trunk?"

"Might as well," Jarvis sighed. Maybe he'd been wrong after all. Maybe Freddy had been right. Maybe he HAD seen another white Rabbit last night -

"Uh, Lieutenant?" Gandy said, stepping back for him to come closer.

In the trunk of Laura's Rabbit lay a long, sharp, dangerous looking letter opener - the blade stained with what appeared to be blood. And there was a pair of women's gloves beside it. "Damn," Jarvis muttered. "Bag it," he ordered. "And impound the car as evidence. Have forensics go over it with a fine tooth comb."

"Yes, sir," Gandy said as Jarvis returned to his car and rested his head on the steering wheel.

This was NOT turning out to be a good day.

To Be Continued - - -

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