Try this for a deep, dark secret. The
great detective Remington Steele? He doesn't exist. I invented
him. Follow: I always loved excitement, so I studied and apprenticed,
and put my name on an office. But absolutely nobody knocked down
my door. A female private investigator seemed so . . . feminine.
So I invented a superior. A decidedly masculine superior. Suddenly,
there were cases around the block. It was working like a charm.
Until the day he walked in, with his blue eyes and mysterious
past. And before I knew it, he assumed Remington Steele's identity.
Now I do the work and he takes the bows. It's a dangerous way
to live, but as long as people buy it, I can get the job done.
We never mix business with pleasure. Well, almost never. I don't
even know his real name.