That Old Steele of Mine Part 1

That Old Steele of Mine Part 1
Disclaimers: Don't own em. Not making any bucks from em. Just borrowing em and I'll give em back relatively unscathed...

Synopsis: When Bernice's husband is murdered while in LA, a visiting Murphy helps Laura and Remington prove the ex-receptionist is innocent.

"Excuse me?"

Mildred Krebs looked up from the papers on her desk and her gaze narrowed as she saw the tall brunette that stood there, wrapped in a dark mink coat. "Can I help you?" Mildred asked warily. Tall brunettes spelled "trouble" around here. Usually, they were old girlfriends of the Boss. Things had been going pretty well between the newlyweds since their return from Ireland, and Mildred didn't want anyone or anything to cause problems. "Mr. Steele's not in."

"I'm not really here to see Skeezix," the woman said with a look of amusement. "I'm here to see Laura Holt."

"You mean Laura Holt-Steele, don't you?" Mildred corrected as the woman turned toward Laura's office. Mildred rose from her desk, moving rapidly to block the woman's path. "Whoa. Just who are you?"

The woman smiled. "You're Mildred, aren't you? Laura's told me a lot about you. Says that the agency would fold up if it wasn't for you being here."

"She said that?" Mildred questioned, forgetting her suspicions momentarily.

"I'd ask for a raise if I were you. It's not easy covering up for him," the woman said, nodding toward the closed door that led into Mr. Steele's office. "And believe me, I should know."

Realization that this woman knew the truth about Remington Steele sharpened Mildred's senses, and she peered closely at the heavily made up face. There was something familiar about it. She'd seen it somewhere- Laura's house. Before those jerks from Intercorp had blown it up. There'd been a picture of Laura and this woman and a blonde man standing outside the front door to the office, proud smiles on their faces. She had asked Laura about it once.

"You're Bernice Foxe," Mildred realized, relaxing. The Remington Steele Agency's first receptionist wasn't a threat to the newlyweds.

"Bernice Hopper, now," Bernice corrected. "Laura's not here, is she?"

"No. But she and Mr. Steele should be back soon. They're just finishing up a case in Encino. Why don't I get you some coffee and you can wait in Mr. Steele's office?"

Bernice glanced at her wristwatch and nodded. "Sounds good to me." She turned as Mildred moved toward the coffee room door. "If you'll join me? We could- compare notes on what it's like working for 'Remington Steele'."

"You got it," Mildred agreed, laughing.

****

"Another case successfully resolved," Remington Steele was saying as he opened the glass door and stepped aside for Laura to precede him.

"Just another day at the office," Laura sighed. "Mildred-"

The both stopped, both suddenly becoming aware that the receptionist wasn't in her usually place behind the desk.

"Mildred?" Laura said again, and looked at Remington as a noise came from inside his office.

Cautiously, they approached the doorway, listening, in case Mildred was in some kind of trouble.

Inside, Mildred was sitting on the sofa, a cup in her hands, as a brunette lounged in the nearby chair, while a mink coat lay draped across the sofa beside Mildred. "It wasn't easy keeping him on a leash," the brunette was saying. "I always felt guilty about leaving Laura to clean up after him."

Remington's brow furrowed in confusion, as Laura's mouth dropped open and she moved into the room.

"Bernice?"

The brunette rose and turned in one graceful move. "Laura!" As she embraced her old friend, Bernice gave Remington a quick once- over and grinned mischievously. "Hello there."

"Well, well, and to what do we owe the pleasure, Mrs.- Hooper, wasn't it?" he questioned, moving forward, his expression wary.

"Hopper," Bernice corrected. "Looks like some things never change, hmm, Laura? Skeezix here still can't remember a name."

Laura gave Remington a look that clearly asked him to behave as she picked up the fur coat and sat down beside Mildred. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you call and let me know you were coming to town?"

"It was spur of the moment, really. Johnny didn't make the decision until last night- and there wasn't time."

Looking around, Remington asked, "Where is your better half, then? Out hitting some hot licks on his saxophone?"

"No, he's waiting at the hotel," Bernice explained, watching Laura run her hand over the fur coat. "Nice, huh?"

"What?" Laura asked, realizing what she was doing. "Oh, yes. Lovely. Johnny must be doing very well for you have something like this."

"Johnny's- Johnny," Bernice said cryptically. "Listen, Laura, could you come to the hotel and meet with him? He's in trouble."

"Trouble?" Remington questioned, joining them to sit on the coffee table. "What sort of trouble?"

"That's just it. I don't know," Bernice sighed. "He won't talk to me about it. But I'm sure it has something to do with that brother of his and their crazy father's will. It took me until last night to convince him to at least talk to you, Laura, to see if you could help."

"Just Laura?" Remington asked.

"She *is* the detective," Bernice pointed out.

"But it's *my* name on the door," Remington countered.

"And Johnny only agreed to meet with Laura," Bernice said. "He wont' talk to anyone else," she explained, looking very worried. "He hasn't slept in a week, Laura," she said. "I'm really worried about him."

Laura looked at her husband. "Maybe I should go alone," she suggested.

"By all means. You and Bernice can catch up on old times," Remington agreed, and his eagerness made Laura give him a long look. "I'm sure Mildred and I can find something to keep us occupied while you're out, eh, Mildred?"

"Right, Boss," Mildred agreed. "I could use some help on that filing I've been putting off."

"Filing?" Remington said with a sick look. Then he took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together. "Excellent idea. Nothing like getting in there and digging in, eh?" He took Bernice's coat from Laura's suddenly nerveless fingers and slipped it over Bernice's shoulders. "There you go. Have a nice meeting with Mr. Hooper."

"Hopper," Bernice said between clenched teeth.

"And take your time. We'll be fine." He went to the desk and picked up the telephone. "Fred? . . . Steele here. Mrs. Steele and a guest will be downstairs in a few minutes. Could you meet them out front? . . . Good man, Fred." He hung up. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked, coming to take each woman by an elbow to escort them out of his office and to the glass doors that lead into the hallway. "We'll see you later. Give my regards to Mr. Hooper," he said, grinning as Bernice turned, glaring.

"For the last time, it's *Hopper*. One "o", two "p"s," she was saying as the doors closed behind her and Laura. "One of these days, Laura-"

"He only does it to get to you," Laura pointed out. "Don't let it." She turned to glance back into the office, only to find Remington standing there, waving and smiling at her, giving her his best innocent look - which always meant that he was up to something.

She only hoped that Mildred would be able to control whatever it was before it got out of hand. "Let's go meet this husband of yours," she suggested at last, tucking her arm through Bernice's. "You know, you haven't told me very much about him. All I know is that he plays the saxophone and is from Los Angeles."

*****

Remington waited until Laura and Bernice were out of sight, then turned to where Mildred was standing near her desk, watching him carefully. "What are you up to, Boss?" she asked.

"Ah, Mildred, my dear," he insisted. "You cut me to the quick," he said, placing a hand to his chest for effect. "Why must you and Laura always think the worst of me?"

Mildred sighed deeply, her eyes narrowed. "You overplayed it, that's why."

"Too much, eh?" he questioned.

"Way over the top," Mildred confirmed. "I'm surprised Mrs. Steele left you here at all after that performance."

Remington took her arm and led her toward the desk. "Ah, but we have work to do."

"Work? I was only joking about the filing, Boss," Mildred began, but Remington reached over her shoulder and flipped on the computer sitting there.

"Not the filing. I want you to dig up everything you can about Bernice's husband. Johnny Hopper."

"You got the name right," Mildred noted.

"Of course I did. It's a little game Bernice and I used to play. Her name was Foxe, I invariably called her Miss Wolfe."

"I'm surprised you never made a play for her. She's- attractive," Mildred said, typing the necessary information.

"Bernice?" Remington repeated in a surprised tone. "I suppose- if one likes flashy, long legged model types."

He caught Mildred's grin as she concentrated on the monitor. "I thought that *was* your type."

"Oh, once, perhaps. Long ago. My tastes have changed, Mildred." He saw her look and smiled. "Seriously, Mildred. I'm a reformed man, thanks to Laura."

The computer beeped, and they looked at the screen. "John "Johnny" Hopper, born LA. Forty years old, attended- "

Remington's eyes scanned the information for himself. "Three universities and no degree from any of them. One brother, Andrew Hopper-" Remington frowned. "Why is that name familiar, Mildred?"

"Because he's a high power attorney," Mildred pointed out. "Old money. Inherited his father's law firm and most of his fortune-" she went back to the information before her. "Here it is. There was one stipulation in his father's will- that he administer his brother Johnny's half of the estate, since the old man didn't trust Johnny not to spend it on booze and women."

"When did Mr. Hopper Senior die?" Remington asked.

"Five years ago. Right after Johnny married Bernice."

****

Laura's brown eyes scanned the area as she and Bernice moved into the well-appointed lobby of the hotel. Thick carpet, ornately decorated doorways. The very air seemed to smell of money. "This is some place," she noted in a quiet voice.

"Johnny likes to keep up appearances," Bernice told her. "Even if that skinflint of a brother won't let go of the purse strings."

"I thought Johnny was a musician?"

"He is. But he doesn't make a living at it," Bernice clarified, her eyes widening. "You don't know?"

"Is there something to know?" Laura questioned.

The desk clerk was talking on the telephone, and smiled as they moved past. Laura thought his smile seemed a trifle nervous, but she dismissed it as Bernice spoke.

"Johnny's father was Amos Hopper," she explained, then prompted. "Lawyer? Handled some pretty big names in his day. But it was his father that made the family fortune. Carson Hopper. Rubber tire magnate. Owned the largest tire factory in California for years."

Laura blinked, getting into the elevator with her friend. "You're telling me that Johnny's- rich?"

"He inherited half of his father's estate," Bernice confirmed. "For all the good it does him. The old man didn't like me for some reason. Thought I was a fortune hunter, I guess. But I didn't know that Johnny had money until after we were married. I thought he was just a saxophone player. Before he died, he changed his will so that Johnny's brother Andrew would be in charge of Johnny's money."

"Andrew- Hopper?" Laura said, swallowing nervously. "*The* Andrew Hopper?"

"The one and the same," Bernice confirmed in a dark, angry tone. "And he hates me almost as much as his father did."

"Could this have anything to do with why Johnny's in trouble and needs a detective, Bernice?" Laura asked as the elevator deposited them into the penthouse suite.

"What on earth-?" Bernice asked, her eyes widening as she saw the uniformed police officers standing outside of the double doors leading to the suite itself. A man wearing a wrinkled suit stood there. He nodded at Laura, then turned to Bernice.

"Mrs. Hopper?"

"Yes," Bernice said.

"Bernice Hopper?"

"She said that's who she is, Jarvis," Laura pointed out. "What's going on?"

Bernice looked at her friend. "You know him?"

"Lt. James Jarvis, Bernice. LAPD homicide detective."

"Homicide?" Bernice repeated, sounding distant. She looked at the doors again. "Johnny?!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hopper," Jarvis said, watching her reaction carefully as he finished, "but your husband is dead."

"No. Oh, God,-" Bernice ran past the officers and threw open the doors to enter the suite. Laura glared at the police detective as she followed the grief-stricken woman, who was kneeling beside the body of her husband as he lay on the floor. There was a pool of blood beneath him, and a stain on the back of his shirt as well. "Johnny," she sighed. "Oh, no. No."

"Bernice," Laura said gently, placing an arm around the woman's shaking shoulders as the coroner's men arrived.

She led Bernice to a chair, then looked at Jarvis as he asked, "Mrs. Hopper, how long were you out of the hotel?"

"An hour- maybe a little longer. The cab I flagged down to take me to see Laura got stuck in a traffic jam- "

"Why are you asking, Jarvis?" Laura wanted to know.

"Just trying to do my job, Laura," Jarvis replied. "Why didn't Mr. Hopper go with you to the Remington Steele Agency?" he asked Bernice.

"He said he had some calls to make," Bernice answered. "Probably to his brother-"

"His brother?"

"Andrew Hopper," Laura supplied.

"Oh. I see." The coroner got Jarvis' attention. "Excuse me."

Laura watched the man move across the room, and sat down beside Bernice. "Bernice, do you have any idea who would have wanted Johnny dead?" she asked, taking into the account the spot where Johnny's body lay and then following an invisible line to the wall near the window.

"Besides Andrew?" Bernice asked. "No. Johnny was the kind of guy who made friends with everyone. I wish you'd had the chance to get to know him," Bernice said with a sigh, her large eyes filling with tears again as Laura put her arm around Bernice once more.

"Excuse me," Jarvis said, and both women looked up at him. He held up a small handgun encased in a plastic bag. "Have you ever seen this before, Mrs. Hopper?"

Bernice looked at the weapon. "It- looks like Johnny's gun. He was carrying it for protection."

"Did your husband have a reason to think he might be in danger?"

"He - hadn't been himself," Bernice confirmed. "That's why he wanted to talk to Laura- to see if she could help."

"Is that the murder weapon, Jarvis?" Laura asked.

"Probably. Once we find the bullet, we'll know for sure."

Laura nodded toward the wall beside the window. "You might start looking there," she suggested. "Can I take Bernice out of here now?"

Jarvis looked considering at the tearful brunette, then nodded. "Yeah. But make sure she doesn't leave town."

"Can I get some things from the bedroom?" Bernice asked.

"I'm sorry, but this is a crime scene," Jarvis pointed out, moving to stop them from going toward the other room. "Everything stays just as it is."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Laura said in a scathing tone as she drew Bernice away from the sight of the coroner's men pulling a black bag over the body of her dead husband. "Come on, Bernice."

*****

Remington read the printout again as he looked at Mildred. "Anything else yet?"

"No. There's not a lot about him in the LA database."

"They've been living in New Orleans. See what you can find there."

"Well, well, well. Let me guess. Marriage has turned you into a workaholic and you're actually doing research for a case. Or are you running some kind of scam this time?"

Remington and Mildred both turned to look at the blonde haired, blue eyed man who stood in the doorway, a smirk on his handsome, boyish face. "Marriage does wonders, Murphy," Remington observed. "I highly recommend it. Especially when one has someone like Laura as a wife."

"I might buy that if I didn't know you so well, Steele," Murphy said.

Mildred's eyes widened as she realized who the young man was. Murphy Michaels. Laura's first partner, a friend from her days training at Havenhurst. He had left the Agency to start his own in Denver just before Mildred had come on the scene. Mildred rose from her chair, her smile wide. "I'm Mildred Krebs, Mr. Michaels."

Murphy took her hand. "Of course you are. Laura's told me about you."

"She did?"

Remington muttered softly, "Down, Mildred," as he tugged on her sleeve. She looked up at him. "Consorting with the enemy." He smiled at Murphy. "So, Murphy, old man. To what do we owe the immense honor of your visit? Just dropping by? Can't stay?"

"Oh, I'm in town for a few days. Had some business to take care of, and some research for a case I'm working back home. Laura didn't mention my visit?"

"Uh, must have slipped her mind," Remington said, wondering why Laura hadn't mentioned the impending arrival of her ex-partner. "What felicitous luck, though. You *and* Bernice in the same day."

"Bernice?" Murphy said. "Bernice is in town?"

"She and Laura went to meet with Bernice's husband. Seems he's got a problem that Bernice thinks the Agency can help him with-"

"*Had* a problem," Laura corrected, entering the office with a still shaky Bernice at her side. "Hello, Murphy," she said, a genuine smile on her face at the sight of her ex-partner. "You're here earlier than you said you'd be." She glanced quickly at Remington before looking at Mildred. "Mildred, would mind helping Bernice into Remington's office and getting her a cup of tea?"

"Sure," Mildred said, moving to take Laura's place at Bernice's side. "Come on, honey."

"What happened, Laura?" Remington asked as Mildred and Bernice moved away.

"Someone murdered Johnny Hopper this afternoon," she said. "And think that Lt. Jarvis believes that that someone was Bernice."

To Be Continued…


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