Charles Harwood glanced around
the parking lot nervously as he went toward his car. He didn't
like all this cloak and dagger stuff. He hadn't even wanted to
get involved. But his friend had been insistant. "Don't forget
who loaned you the money to start that company, Charlie,"
he'd said smoothly. "And all you have to do is supply the
man with the electronic components he needs- and give dear little
Lousie Grubeck a glowing reference."
Now, he wished he'd waited to find someone else to finance Harwood
Electronics. He didn't like being indebted to someone with his
old friend's reputation. He unlocked his car door and got inside.
Before he could start the car, someone said, "Hello, Harwood."
Charles jumped, turning to find two people in the back seat of
his car. "Who are you? What do you want? If you're out to
rob me-"
"We just want to ask you a few questions, that's all,"
Jessica assured the man.
"Why not make an appointment?" he asked.
"I tried. I was here all morning," Tony told him. "You
were 'in conference'."
"But I was. Who are you?" he asked again.
"Tony Roselli, Remington Steele Investigations," he
said, showing the man his identification. "And this is Jessica
Beecham. She's an attorney-"
"Who's also Mr. Steele's sister," he pointed out. "What
do you want with me?"
"Like Jessica said, just the answers to some questions."
"About what?"
"Did you know a woman named Felicia Grant?"
"Felicia? What has she got to do with this? Oh, I know. Steele's
upset that she attended his party last night and I didn't. I wasn't
feeling well," he told them. "I knew how Felicia was
looking forward to going, so I sent her on without me."
"How did you meet her?"
"At an art gallery-the one on Jefferson. I was there talking
to them about their security system when I saw her standing in
front of a Goya."
"When was this?"
"Three days ago. We went out a couple of times- I don't really
know her that well-"
"Then you don't know that she's dead?" Jessica asked.
Harwood paled. "Dead? She's-you're lying."
"She was shot to death this morning at the Savoy. The police
seem to think that Mr. Steele's responsible."
"I didn't even know she KNEW Steele," he said. "Why
would he kill her?"
"They were old friends," Tony told him. "But he
didn't have a reason to kill her. Someone set him up. Who is Louise
Grubeck?" he asked suddenly.
"Uh-never heard of her."
"That's strange," Jessica commented. "You gave
her an excellent reference when she applied to Domestic Temps
a few days ago."
He laughed nervously. "Oh, Lou. Yeah. She's the daughter
of an old friend. She really needed a job, so I agreed to give
her that reference."
"Wouldn't happen to have an address for her, would you?"
"Somewhere on Pico," he told them. "I've never
been to her place, so-"
"Why would she give the temp agency a phony address? And
the ID numbers she put down aren't hers either. The telephone
number is a payphone downtown."
Harwood shook his head. "Can I help it if I'm a bad judge
of character?" He swallowed. "Do the police really think
that Steele killed Felicia?"
"Yes. But he didn't. If you know anything that could help,
Mr. Harwood," Jessica said, "We would really appreciate
your telling us."
"I don't know anything that could help," he said. "Sorry.
I hope Mr. Steele finds some way to clear himself."
"So does his wife," Tony said. "She collapsed this
afternoon, and might lose the babies she's carrying." he
ignored Jessica's glare, taking a gamble.
"Mrs. Steele? I- Look, if I hear from Lou, I'll let you know.
Can I go home now?"
Tony sighed in frustration. "Guess so." He opened the
door and got out, giving Jessica a hand out as well. "Thanks
for the help, Harwood."
He nodded jerkily before starting the car. Rolling down the window,
he said, "Tell Mr. Steele I wish him luck," before putting
the car into reverse.
Tony waited only a moment before turning toward the Rabbit. "Let's
go."
Jessica got into the car as well. "WHERE are we going?"
He turned the same direction as Harwood had. "If WE'RE lucky,
he's going to lead us to whoever's behind this. He's rattled,
Jess. I could see it in his eyes when I told him about Laura."
"You think he's in over his head and wants some answers of
his own?"
"Very likely," Tony said, concentrating on following
the dark blue Mercedes.
Remington frowned at the officer as he returned to his room from
visiting Laura. At least Katherine was there now, with her. His
frown deepened when he saw who was waiting for him in his room.
"Lt. Jarvis. To what do I owe this visit?"
"You know, Steele, for a man with a concussion, you seem
to have free run of this hospital."
"I know you're not here to deliver your medical opinion,
Lieutenant."
"No. We tracked down the serial number of the gun that killed
Miss Grant, Steele."
"Really? And to whom does it belong?"
"You, apparently."
Remington laughed. "Nice joke, Jarvis-"
"It's no joke. The gun was pawned a year ago at a little
shop two blocks from the Savoy- on the route between your office
and the hotel. The owner let the payments lapse, and the gun was
sold this morning by the mother of the pawnbroker." He tossed
a piece of paper toward Remington. "Here's the receipt."
Feeling the noose begin to tighten, Remington picked up the paper.
"It's a forgery, Jarvis. A very GOOD forgery, but a forgery
none the less. I didn't stop at a pawn shop this morning-"
"We're checking with the cab company you say you used now,"
Jarvis told him, putting the receipt back into the pocket. "The
driver should remember if you had him stop."
"He'll tell you I didn't, I went directly from the office
to the hotel."
"We'll see. But if he doesn't back up your story, Steele,
you won't be staying here much longer." He hesitated. "How's
Laura?"
"If you really cared, you'd -"
"I'm just doing my job, Mr. Steele."
"That's what I love about you, Jarvis. Your devotion to duty-even
when you've got the wrong man."
Jarvis went to the door. "I'll be seeing you again, Mr. Steele."
"Jarvis-" He paused. "Laura needs peace and quiet
right now. We won't know for certain that she's not going to lose
the babies until tomorrow."
"I hope it works out," Jarvis said. "For her sake.
Later."
Alone, Remington picked up the telephone to call Mildred. He was
beginning to feel as if he were in the midst of a very bad dream.
"Got it, Chief,"Mildred was saying as Tony and Jessica
entered the office. "They just got back. Yeah. I will. Give
Mrs. Steele my regards.-I doubt it. Too much to do here."
She looked up at the duo. "Well?"
Tony filled her in on their conversation with Harwood, then told
her they had followed him. "And you'll never guess where
he went, Mildred."
"Where?"
"The new state prison."
"Who did he go to see?"
"We don't know. Did you get anywhere with your search?"
"Enough to know that Louise Grubeck isn't that young woman's
real name. I found the death certificate for Louise Grubeck. She
died in 1960. She's buried not too far from here-" She sighed.
"Mr. Steele wants you to check out a pawn shop between here
and the Savoy, Tony." She wrote down the address. "Apparently
the owner's mother claims to have sold Mr. Steele the murder weapon
this morning. She gave Lt. Jarvis a receipt with Mr. Steele's
signature on it."
"I'll check it out." He looked at Jessica. "Why
don't you and Mildred take a break and go visit Laura?"
Mildred shook her head. "I'm not leaving this computer until
I find out who's behind this."
"Mildred," Jessica said, coming around to put an arm
around the older woman's shoulders, "we all want to help
Remington and Laura, but you can't keep this up. You won't do
either one of them any good if you work yourself to exhaustion.
I know that Laura would like to see you. And you could give Remington
a report in person. Perhaps, between the two of you, you'll come
up with something- a past case, perhaps-"
Mildred nodded. "Just let me start one more search. I can
leave the system up while I'm gone and the results will be waiting
when I get back."
"What are you looking for?" Tony asked.
"The names of the inmates in that prison."
The cemetary where Louise Grubeck was on the way to the hospital,
and on impulse, Mildred pulled into the avenue that ran through
the gravesites. "I don't know what you expect to find, Mildred,"
Jessica said, getting out of the car. "I'm sure whoever is
behind this simply chose the name at random- "
"Maybe. And maybe there was another reason," Mildred
said, scanning the headstones. One near the back caught her eye.
It was black granite, with elaborate carving of a flower. Nearing
it, she read the name. "Here it is. Louise Grubeck, born
1940, died 1960."
"There's nothing here, Mildred," Jessica said.
"I was certain-" she said, running her finger over the
carving in the stone. "Oh, well. Let's go."