Remington sat in the back of Andrew Hopper's limousine, trying not to think about what might await him once he reached the house in Brentwood.
The dark privacy screen slid downward and Murphy asked, "Certainly likes to travel in style, hmm?"
"Yes," Remington agreed absently, meeting Murphy's blue gaze in the rearview mirror. Wearing the chauffeur's dark cap and jacket, Remington thought that the other man just might be mistaken for Hopper's driver/bodyguard, Max.
"Steele, what was all of that back at the office about cutting me loose?" Murphy asked now.
Remington shrugged, suddenly unable to meet those eyes. "Oh, nothing, really. I suddenly recalled that you'd mentioned being in Los Angeles to take care of some personal matters. I'd hate for you to miss an important appointment on our account."
"Number one, I'm doing this for Bernice. The personal business can wait."
"And number two?" Remington questioned.
"You might also recall that I mentioned something about a case."
"So you did."
"It and the personal business are kind of- connected. If I got the information that I needed for the case, I wouldn't have to worry about the personal business."
"Then, you need to pursue the case," Remington suggested, his mind on the envelope still tucked safely inside his inner jacket pocket.
Murphy shook his head. "I've already got the information that I came here for," he said.
Something in those blue eyes set a warning. "Indeed?" Remington questioned, wary now.
"Now, all I need to do is figure out if I want to use it or not."
Remington's eyes narrowed. "Murphy-"
"Do you know anyone who would want proof that your marriage to Laura isn't legit?" Murphy questioned as he turned the car into Hopper's drive, braking before the closed iron gates. Rolling down the window, Murphy made sure that his face remained in the shadows of the early evening as he reached out to input the security code into the box. "Here we go," he told Remington as the gates began to open. Rolling the window up again, Murphy released the brakes and entered the grounds.
"Look, Murphy," Remington said, frowning as the car moved came to a stop before the front door of the brick house.
"Don't worry, Steele," Murphy assured him easily, deliberately misunderstanding Remington's concern. "I've got your back."
"Why does that thought fill me with a curious feeling of ambivalence?" Remington questioned, and then took a deep breath before getting out of the car through the door that Murphy had opened.
As soon as Remington was out of the car, Murphy got back inside and took the car around to the rear garage as they had arranged, while Remington squared his shoulders and moved toward the front door.
***
Laura glanced at her wristwatch, and then looked at Mildred. "Okay. Remington and Murphy should be there by now. Call Jarvis and have him meet us there-"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Steele," Andrew Hopper's soft voice said, and Mildred gasped. "I can't allow that." Laura turned toward Andrew and saw that Max was holding a gun. "No police. Let's just keep this between us, hmm?"
"And how are we supposed to clear Bernice of your brother's murder?" Laura wanted to know.
Andrew smiled. "Oh, don't worry. I'll give Bernice the best defense money can buy. She won't be convicted. The evidence is all circumstantial. Miss Krebs, if you would be so kind as to call the agency's driver and have him meet us downstairs in the garage?"
Mildred looked at Laura. "Mrs. Steele?"
"Do it, Mildred," Laura responded, her angry gaze still on Andrew Hopper. "Why are you so determined to keep this quiet, Mr. Hopper?" she asked. "Everyone this could possibly hurt is dead-" she broke off as an idea occurred. "Or are they? Lindsay and Johnny weren't alone in that car, were they?"
"Speculation is a dangerous game, Mrs. Steele," Andrew warned her as Mildred hung up the telephone.
"Fred's already downstairs waiting," she announced.
"Excellent. Then we'd better go," Andrew said. "After you, Mrs. Steele?" he said as Mildred stood up and moved around the desk, only to have Max grab her arm and shove the barrel of the gun against her side.
"Let her go," Laura ordered.
"Sorry, Mrs. Steele, but I don't think you'll do anything foolish if it could mean that Miss Krebs gets hurt," Andrew said, holding the door open for her. "Shall we?"
Laura glanced once at Mildred before preceding the others from the office.
***
As Remington was arriving at the house, and Laura was being threatened by Andrew Hopper, Bernice was sitting in a chair in Andrew's study, her eyes focusing even in the dark room on the gun in her captor's hand as he stood by the window, peering through the curtains. "He's here," the man, whom Bernice had finally decided to think of as Mike, announced.
"What now?" Bernice asked.
Mike turned around, smiling. "It's simple. I kill Andrew Hopper for what he did to Lindsay, and then I kill you- making it look like a suicide, of course."
"What Andrew did to Lindsay?" she asked, hoping to keep him talking in the hope that Remington would hear them.
"He and his brother destroyed the only person that I ever cared about."
"Why involve me?" Bernice wanted to know. "I didn't have anything to do with what happened-"
***
In the corridor, Remington froze as he recognized Bernice's voice. What the bloody hell was *she* doing here, he wondered, watching as Murphy appeared at the other end of the darkened hallway. Remington pointed at the study door, and they listened.
***
"You can thank Andrew Hopper for that piece of good fortune," he told her. "Now be quiet. No sense in warning your brother in law that he's in danger now, is there?" Mike asked.
***
Remington watched Murphy's hand signals, nodding his agreement. The other man vanished back into the darkness once more, leaving Remington alone in the corridor, his hand hovering near the doorknob that would let him into the study.
Remington waited a few moments to give Murphy time to get into position, and then took a deep breath before grasping the doorknob and entering the study as though he had every right to be there. He paused in the doorway for a second, taking in the layout of the darkened room before closing the door and stepping forward- toward the chair in which Bernice was sitting.
The light on the table beside her came on, and Remington found himself looking at the man who had called himself Mike Gordon - and the gun that he held in his hand.
"You're not Andrew Hopper," the man stated, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Sure of that, are you?" Remington questioned, glancing at Bernice, trying to make certain that she wasn't hurt.
"I've talked to the man," Mike answered.
"Indeed?" Remington asked, his anger at Hopper growing. The man had sent him here knowing full well that Gordon wouldn't be fooled. "And when was this? When his father hired you ten years ago to keep an eye on Lindsay Haywood?" Keep him talking. Murphy would make a move soon.
Mike laughed, a dry sound, with no humor in it. "Not likely. Daddy Hopper didn't want me to know that his precious boys were involved in what happened. All he told me was that if Lindsay started to remember, I was to kill her."
"That would have been easy- except that things got complicated when you fell in love with her," Remington surmised.
"She was so helpless. She needed me. No one had ever needed me before. No one. Then she started to remember. Little things, at first. Things she didn't even realize she was saying. About an accident, and John, and Andrew."
"Then she did your job for you," Remington said. "Killed herself so that you wouldn't have to face not doing the job you'd been paid to do."
Mike's face took on a pained masque that sent a shiver through Remington's spine. "Who says that I didn't do it?"
Bernice turned to look up at Mike at last, her expression revealing her shocked surprised. "You killed her?"
"I had no choice. Hopper had been paying me for ten years to keep that secret. She was going to call the authorities. Tell them what happened. She had the telephone in her hand when I entered the house. Her father had just left; I waited until he'd gone because I knew she was remembering, knew that I had to do something. I told her to get away from the telephone, that she couldn't call them. She insisted that she had to, until I held up a mirror in front of her face. She grabbed it, threw it across the room and sat down, crying, begging me to help her."
Remington saw the far off look in the killer's eyes as he recalled murdering the woman he loved, and took a step forward, but Mike's eyes cleared and the gun came up again.
"Don't be foolish, Mr. Steele."
"So you helped her by slitting her wrist with a piece of the mirror," Bernice finished the story, struggling unsuccessfully to keep her horror from her voice.
"I didn't have a choice. The next time, I might not have been there to keep her from making that call. Or telling her father. Then I came here, to see Andrew Hopper. Told him who I was, and that I was going to kill him for what he'd done to Lindsay."
"And he sent you to New Orleans, where Johnny and I were," Bernice guessed.
"Nice brother in law you've got there, Mrs. Hopper," Mike said with a smirk. "Really concerned for your well being. He's the one who suggested that I get Johnny and you back here to LA and then framing you for his brother's murder. I guess I did a pretty good job, impersonating you, huh?" he asked with a grin.
Bernice's sickened look made Mike laugh softly. "Of course, he didn't count on Johnny talking before he died, telling me what Andrew hadn't."
"So now you've turned your vengeance upon your employer."
Mike pointed the end of the gun toward the telephone on Hopper's desk. "Call him. Tell him the coast is clear and that it's safe to come home."
Remington went to the telephone, lifted the receiver and dialed the agency's number, frowning when it just rang. "No answer," he told Mike. "Perhaps they're on the way here as we speak?" he suggested. "Along with the police." He silently had his doubts about that, however. He didn't see Andrew Hopper wanting the police involved in this. It was the reason he hadn't told Jarvis about the death threat. How could he explain that the hired killer his father had hired ten years ago had killed his brother and was now after him?
The sound of a car engine drew Mike's attention toward the window, and gave Remington the opportunity to jump toward the other man as Murphy entered the room. "Get out of here, Bernice!" Remington called out. "Call the police."
Bernice made a beeline for the door, and was barely out of it before Mike fired his first shot, in an attempt to stop her. But Murphy slapped Mike's arm aside, causing him to miss his target. Angered, Mike stunned Murphy with a well-placed right hook, sending him into the lamp, darkening the room. Murphy fell to the floor beside Remington, groaning softly as Mike lifted his gun to draw a bead on Remington. "Say goodnight, Mr. Steele," Mike said, and Remington stood there, fully expecting to feel the bullet strike him.
But in the second before the gun went off, Remington was pushed out of the way, falling to the floor hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs. Something fell on top of him, pinning him down. The shot seemed to echo, and Remington heard Mike's grunt of pain and surprise before he felt the gunman fall as well.
"You can get up now, Murphy," Remington said. "I don't think that was really necessary, but-" there was no response. "Murphy?"
Carefully, Remington rolled the blonde man over onto his back and pressed fingers to his neck. There was a pulse, thank god. "Murphy!" he called again as the lights came on, and Remington looked up to see Andrew Hopper looking at him, a pale faced Laura and Mildred at his side.
Laura and Mildred quickly knelt on the other side of Murphy's prone body. "Are you okay?" Laura asked Remington as his gaze fell on Max, who was still holding the gun that he'd used to shoot Mike Gordon.
"I'm fine," Remington assured her. "He's alive," he said of Murphy, then indicated the spreading bloodstain on Murphy's shirt. "But he won't be for long if we don't get him to a doctor." He pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it against the wound.
"Excellent work, Mr. Steele," Andrew praised. "Max, get the limousine, please. We have to get Mr. Michaels to the hospital. Wouldn't want him to die because of us, would we?"
Max hesitated. "You sure, Mr. Hopper?"
"I'm among friends, Max," Andrew insisted with a relieved smile. "Isn't that right, Mr. Steele?"
Remington sent Laura a look that he hoped she could read, glancing toward the chair where Bernice had been sitting. Laura moved her head slightly and saw what he wanted her to see: Bernice's alligator clutch beside the cushion. Laura took over applying pressure to Murphy's wound as Remington rose slowly to his feet to face his "host".
"But of course," Remington said with a smile. "Couldn't be in better hands." Max turned and left the room through the French doors. "Tell me, Andrew, how did Mike Gordon find your brother? I mean, wouldn't it have made more sense for him to seek you out first? After all, you *are* a well known figure in Los Angeles."
Andrew's eyes narrowed slightly. "Lucky, I suppose. Not for John, of course. Maybe Lindsay mentioned him first. How should I know? All that matters is that's he's dead and the problem is solved."
"Too bad he couldn't have been stopped before he killed your brother and framed Bernice. Imaginative plan, that. Something that I wouldn't have thought a cold-blooded killer like him able to come up with on his own."
Laura moved over for Mildred to take her place, and then rose to stand beside her husband. "Johnny wasn't driving that night, was he, Andrew? It was you. You're the one that your father covered everything up to save. Not Johnny."
"Speculation, Mrs. Steele. I warned you how dangerous it could be," Andrew declared with a twisted smile on his handsome face. "You're wrong. John was our father's favorite. Always was. He wouldn't have gone to that much trouble if he'd thought I had been driving that night." Andrew's bitter expression merely revealed how much that knowledge had always irked him. "You know, my firm has been looking for a private detective agency to put on permanent retainer. A very- generous retainer, I might add. Perhaps we could talk," he suggested, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
"We might be able to arrange something," Remington agreed, drawing a look of surprise from Laura. "After you talk to the police, of course," he added as the sound of police sirens began to fill the night air.
The door behind Andrew opened silently, and Bernice came into the room, carrying a heavy book. Lifting it over her head, she brought it down on Andrew's head, sending him to the floor. "That's for lying to Johnny about that night," Bernice said to him as he lay there, nearly unconscious. "And for trying to set me up as his murderer."
"Bravo, Bernice!" Remington praised as he moved to a station beside the outer door through which Max had vanished, waiting.
He didn't have to wait long. Max rushed in, panicked by the sound of sirens. "Mr. Hopper-" the bodyguard froze in the doorway, surprised to see his boss on the floor. "Mr. Hop-" he never finished as Remington's fist intersected with the man's jaw, sending him spinning toward Bernice, who finished him off with the same tome she'd used on Andrew. Remington winced, holding his aching right hand gingerly. "I'm going to have to learn not to do that."
Laura took the book from Bernice and glanced at the title, giving a little laugh.
"What is it, Mrs. Steele?" Mildred asked.
Laura held up the book showing them the title. "Crime and Punishment. Rather appropriate, don't you think?"
Remington put his left arm around her shoulder. "No question, Mrs. Steele. No question at all."
***
Laura watched as Remington paced the waiting area for the sixth time, glancing constantly at the doorway through which Murphy had been taken. Bernice came back with some coffee, but he shook his head, waving her away as he continued to look toward the operating room doors, waiting for word.
Laura thanked Bernice for the coffee. "He'll be okay," she said, more to convince herself than anything else. "Murphy's tough."
"Yeah," Bernice agreed. "Remember that time he fell two stories and didn't even break a bone?" she asked.
"Hmm," Laura nodded, her eyes on Remington.
"I still can't believe that Andrew let Johnny think he was responsible for what happened to that girl for all these years," Bernice sighed. "Or that it was Andrew that was in love with her."
"Well, since Johnny couldn't remember what happened, he had no way of knowing that he'd passed out leaving Andrew to try to drive them home."
"What do you think will happen to him, Laura?" Bernice asked.
"Well, there's not much they can do about what he did to Lindsay Haywood, but when he sent a hired killer after Johnny, I think he crossed a line that even the best defense attorney in California couldn't erase," Laura mused, her gaze still on Remington. Finally, she rose from her chair and went to him, forcing him to stop pacing. "What happened, Remington?" Laura asked.
He and Bernice had told her about those tense minutes in Hopper's study before Murphy had entered, but he'd been tight lipped about what had happened after Bernice had left the room.
Remington's eyes were filled with something Laura couldn't identify as he looked at her. "He saved my life, Laura. Pushed me out of the way and took the bullet that Gordon meant for me. I never expected him to do that."
"I did," Laura said. "Murphy did what he was trained to do. He acted on instinct. You would have done the same for him, wouldn't you?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"No 'buts'," Laura admonished gently as she caught sight of Mildred coming down the hallway. "There you are," Laura said to the woman.
"Where did you disappear to, Mildred?" Remington asked.
"I had to get something from the office," Mildred told them, looking rather sheepish, then looking toward the operating room. "He's still in there?" she asked worriedly.
"It shouldn't be much longer," Laura told her. "What was so important at the office, Mildred?" she asked.
Mildred chewed on her lower lip for a moment, looking from Remington, to Laura, and then back again. Finally, she pulled a file folder from her oversize handbag and held it out. "I really think you need to look at this. I know you told me to get rid of it, but- "
Laura realized what the file contained and hesitated. "Mildred, -"
"Mrs. Steele, you say you're his friend. If you are, you need to look at what's in here."
Remington's eyes moved to Laura, leaving the choice up to her as Bernice joined them. Laura took the folder and opened it, her eyes widening as she read what was inside.
To Be Continued---