- Steele Trap
from the episode written by:
- Michael Gleason
- Laura and Steele enter an office.
The secretary sits down at her desk. "Yes? May I help you?"
Laura starts to speak. "We have an appointment-"
"We have an appointment-" Steele says at the same time.
Steele continues when Laura doesn't. "To see Dr. Bellows."
The secretary, revealed to be a nurse, grabs a clipboard. "Will
you fill out this financial statement-"
"I'm Remington Steele-"
"And also these waivers of liability-"
"Waiver of liability, eh?" Steele questions as Laura
"It's a standard form. It simply states that if you should
come out of the operating room disfigured or deceased, the doctor
assumes no responsibility, and cannot be sued by your heirs or
Laura tries. "You don't understand-"
"It's customary to pay for medical services in advance.
The fee for consultation is seventy five dollars." Laura
turns toward the door across the room. "We do accept cash,
money orders- or all major credit cards," she says, getting
up to head them off. "Sorry, we don't accept personal checks."
Steele leans toward her. "Nurse Ratchet," he says,
"We are private investigators, summoned by Dr. Bellows."
"Why didn't you say so?" the woman says sourly, moving
to the desk to pick up the telephone. "Doctor?" She
frowns. They hear a gunshot from the other office, and all three
Laura and Steele go to the man who's head is on the desk, a gun
still in his hand. Laura checks his pulse, then looks up. "Call
the police," she tells the woman. She leaves. Laura notices
the paper in the dead man's hand. It's an invitation. She picks
it up. It reads, "You are cordially invited to spend the
weekend in the Devil's Playground."
Murphy enters the offices, and Bernice points him toward Steele's
office, where Laura and Steele are dusting the photos of Steele
on the wall. "Hi," he says, holding up a file. "I've
got a preliminary background check on our - almost client."
He sits down. "Arthur Bellows was a cosmetic surgeon. You
know, lift this, tuck that. HEAVY financial problems. He recently
lost three malpractice suits. And he's known through out the
medical community for his drunkeness. Sometimes IN the operating
Laura has stopped helping Steele to listen. "Any idea what
the Devil's Playground is?"
"Some kind of resort. It's on an island off of Baja California."
"Resort?" Steele asks, suddenly attentive. "On
an island? How intriguing."
"Forget it, Laura," Murphy says. "The guy killed
himself. The reasons aren't important."
Laura starts to say something, but Steele says, "How cold,
Murphy. How callous. Perhaps you've been at this too long."
He looks at Laura. "You're asking yourself - could that
invitation have triggered his death?" Laura watches him
pace in silence. "And you know- the only place to find the
answer is in the Devil's Playground. Miss Wolf?" he calls,
going to the door. "Miss Wolf, run out and get me one of
those little black bags Robert Young used to carry around. And-
oh, an assortment of medical paraphenalia." He turns back
to Laura as she comes to the door.
"Give me a clue," she says, confused.
Steele puts on his jacket. "Appropriate props," he
tells her. "are the key to any convincing characterization."
Murphy stands up. "You're going to IMPERSONATE Dr. Bellows?"
"What better way to get to the bottom of this tragedy?"
"Laura," Murphy warns, "it's getting away from
She starts to speak, but Steele beats her to it- again. "Laura
- you're as curioius about this as I am."
"He has us there, Murph," she admits. "Give me
an hour to pack." She starts to leave.
Steele reaches over to straighten a photo. "LAURA!"
Laura turns. "If I allow him to go out there on his own,
impersonating Remington Steele, IMPERSONATING Arthur Bellows,
can you imagine the outcome? Give me twenty minutes," she
says, and leaves.
Steele smiles smugly at Murphy, buttoning his coat as he starts
past. Murphy grabs his arm. "I know why you're so hot to
pursue this nonexistant mystery. You want to get Laura alone
on that island don't you?"
"You know what I most admire about you, Murphy?" Steele
"Your perception," he says, patting Murphy on the shoulder
as he leaves.
Murphy throws down his notebook in frustration.
A helicopter flies into what appears to be an island paradise,
desposting Steele and Laura. "We'll see you on Monday,"
the pilot tells them before departing again.
Steele and Laura watch the helicopter go. "The first thing
we do," Laura tells Steele, "is introduce you as Dr.
"What if someone knows the real Bellows?" Steele asks.
"We hit him with the suicide and gauge the reaction. I'll
be your nurse. Tracy. Tracy Lord." They start walking toward
the house. "I've always loved that name, Tracy. It's so-
shimmery," she tells an attentive Steele.
At the house, Steele knocks, and the door is opened by a young
blonde woman dressed as a woodland nymph. She giggles. "Are
we expecting you?"
"We have an invitation," Steele tells her, handing
it to her.
She takes it. "Well. In that case, entre vous," she
says, giggling again. She closes the door behind them. "I'm
Miss May," she tells them.
Steele and Laura put down their cases, and Steele takes the young
woman's hand. "A pleasure, Miss May."
She giggles again. "No, not MISS May, Miss MAY."
"Oh," Steele says, still without a clue.
"Cindi Sikes. The 'Devil's Disciple' for May."
"Oh, of course," Steele says, finally understanding.
"And I'm Dr. Bellows. Dr. Arthur Bellows."
"Oh, I'm so glad you're here, Doctor," she says, dragging
him away from Laura.
Laura stands, waiting as Cindi whispers in his ear. "Sorry,"
he tells her. "No." She leaves, disappointed. Laura
"What was that all about?" she asks.
"She forgot her birth control pills," he tells her.
"Thought I might have an extra supply." Laura frowns.
They hear piano music coming from one of the rooms, and Steele
turns in that direction. They find a red haired woman. "Delightful
touch," Steele compliments her. "I'm Dr. Bellows. Dr.
"Madeline Vickers," she says. "And I don't do
Laura and Steele nod, turning to see a man lounging on the sofa,
pretending to be reading the paper, but really watching them.
"Let's try him," Laura suggests.
As they move across the room, a brunette enters. "HI!"
she greets them. "I'm Randi."
"Oh," Steele says. "That's comforting to know.
Especially on these long weekends," Steele says. Laura elbows
him. "Uh, I'm Dr. Bellows. Dr. Arthur Bellows."
"Dr. Bellows," Randi says, smiling. "It's been
Another man enters. "Did I hear you say you were a doctor?"
"Yes. Dr. Bellows," Steele repeats, obviously getting
tired of doing so. "Dr. ARTHUR Bellows."
"My brother's in the medical profession," the man informs
"Yes. He's a proctologist."
"Interesting area," Steele comments as Randi touches
the handkerchief in his jacket pocket. Laura looks away. "Uh,
permit me to present my current enamourata - Myrtle Groggins."
"Miss Groggins, I'm Feldman Feldman."
"Myrtle," Steele insists. "Call her Myrtle."
Randi holds out her hands. "Wanna do it, Doctor?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Perhaps later," he tells her.
"I'm ready anytime you are," she assures him, turning
and walking away.
"Impressive edifice," Steele tells Feldman.
"Yes," he agrees. "It was the former retreat of
a chewing gum magnate before Ambrose turned it into a Devil's
Playground Club." Laura looks bored.
"Ah, Ambrose Blinn. Publisher of Devil magazine. Quite an
interesting logo: For Satyrs of all Ages."
"I didn't know you read Devil magazine, Doctor," Laura
"Only for the occassional medical article," he assures
Cindi comes in, carrying a tray of drinks. "Would you care
for a cocktail before dinner, Doctor?" she asks, still giggling.
"A man in my profession must be exceedingly careful where
alcoholic spirits are concerned, young lady," he says."
Laura and Feldman take a drink, and Cindi, thinking she's done
something wrong, starts to turn away. Steele grabs a drink. "However-
the judicious use of alcoholic spirit is actually a tonic for
the body. I'll have a cocktail or two now, perhaps a flagon of
wine with the meal, then an after dinner drink- followed by some
Irish coffee." He takes a big drink. "After all,"
he smiles. "I might have to operate in the morning."
Cindi moves away, smiling and giggling. Feldman moves off as
Laura turns to Steele. "Poured it on a little THICK, don't
"The man IS supposed to be a hopeless alcoholic," he
"You're HOPELESS, all right," she tells him.
Later, Cindi is showing Laura and Steele upstairs. Laura is still
frowning. "Funny, Ambrose never mentioned you, Doctor."
"Yes, well, I - hardly ever mention Ambrose," Steele
Cindi giggles again, then asks, "He's not- sick, is he?"
"No, he isn't that kind of a doctor," Laura says.
"I specialize in -remodeling," Steele says, causing
another round of giggles. She leads them to a room. Steele joins
her gaiety, until he notices that Laura is NOT laughing.
"Well," Cindi says, then leaves, STILL giggling. Steele
stands there, smiling nervously at Laura.
"Myrtle?" Laura questions. "Myrtle Groggins?"
"Laura, we're on the thin edge with this masquerade, you
know? I'm simply trying to inject a little reality into the proceedings.
I mean, Tracy would have sounded as manufactured as Cindi and
Randi. Whereas Myrtle has such a - dull, plodding, - HONEST ring
to it." Laura isn't buying it at all. She turns and opens
the door to their room.
Inside, she stops, aghast at the round, satin covered bed, the
red silk drapes and the mirrored ceiling. "Isn't this romantic?"
"It's disgusting," Laura tells him. "Like some
cheap, gaudy, adult motel." She closes the door.
"I take it you're not comfortable with the ambiance,"
"It's a total turn off," Laura assures him.
"Oh. I was so hoping-"
She wheels on him. "WHAT?!"
He looks at her warily. "Best not to discuss these matters
on an empty stomach," he decides. "It will wait until
after dinner." She goes into the bathroom, slamming the
door behind her. Steele looks at his reflection in the mirrored
ceiling, then goes to the window as the door from the hallway
opens and Randi enters.
"Yoo hoo!" she says. Steele glances at the closed bathroom
door. "You don't remember me, do you?" she asks. "Randi
Steele looks thoughtful as he meets her in the middle of the
room. "The face is somewhat familiar," he hedges.
"It's not the face you were familiar with," she tells
"Ah- ha," he says. "Then I'm afraid I'm at a loss-"
"Well, maybe this'll get the old crank turning," she
says, unfastening her robe, slipping it from her shoulders to
reveal herself to him.
Steele is nervous, glancing away at the closed door. "Uh,
"They're YOURS," Randi tells him.
"Mine?" Steele asks.
"I tell everyone they're a work of art."
"Ohh, clever. Uh- Could you - uh, put them away now?"
he asks as Laura comes out. She starts to pull the robe back
up. Laura freezes. "Ah, Myrtle, uh, so glad you could join
us," Steele says, nervous. "That is, we were just going
over her- uh-"
"Isn't it GREAT having a body by Bellows?" Randi asks
"I wouldn't know," Laura grinds out, moving between
them to her suitcase.
"You oughta try it," Randi suggests. "It really
gives you a LIFT." She smiles at Steele. "We'll be
seeing more of each other over - dinner," she says, leaving
as Steele nods in agreement.
Laura says, "How much more can there BE?"
"It's allright," Steele assures her. "I'm a doctor."
"NO," Laura reminds him. "You're NOT!" She
grabs her clothes and heads back for the bath.
"Well, as a matter of fact, she thinks I- uh, renovated
"She was a patient of Arthur Bellows? And she doesn't know
you're a fraud? They must have thrown in a lobotomy at no extra
charge," she says, continuing to the bath, slamming the
Steele looks uncomfortable.
At a fancy dinner table, with everyone dressed to the nines-
Cindi serves dinner- beans and franks. Laura smiles at Feldman.
"Franks and beans. On Wedgewood. Shades of Citzen Hearst."
"It's all poor Cindi could handle," Feldman tells her.
Steele pours them some wine. "Just getting the can open
was a major culinary triumph."
"Isn't our host joining us?" Laura asks.
"No, no. Ambrose is giving us sufficient time to be properly
awed by the house that smut built."
Laura smiles up at Steele. "Thank you, Doctor." She
turns back to Feldman as Steele moves off. "You don't approve
of Devil magazine?"
"I don't have to approve. All I have to do is defend it
against charges of pornography. I'm a very busy boy."
At the other end of the table, Randi and Cindi are on either
side of Steele, both laughing and giggling. Laura looks in that
direction, and noticing it, Feldman says, "Quite a pair,
"That's what I've heard," she says.
"Randi was Ambrose's steady companion until Cindi assumed
that position two years ago. He likes them young- and dumb."
Laura watches them again. "She doesn't seem to be holding
a grudge," she points out.
"Randi? She can't hold a thought in her head for three seconds,
much less a grudge." He indicates the other man who was
on the sofa earlier. "Michael Dominic. Mr. Ambrose's business
partner. Ultra silent variety." Laura nods.
Suddenly they hear another male voice. "Good evening, ladies
and gentlemen. And welcome to the Devil's Playground." They
all get up and join Madeline in the other room. She's at the
piano, watching Ambrose Blinn on a big screen TV. "I'm delighted
you could all accept my invitation. And I promise each and every
one of you a memorable weekend. But for now, enjoy your meal-
pass a pleasant evening- and when you least expect it - I will
make my presence felt." He uses a remote and the screen
Madeline frowns. "What the HELL did he mean by that? Make
his presence felt?"
"Well, you know Ambrose," Feldman points out. "He
loves the dramatic, so let's just sit back and enjoy the suspense."
They all start back toward the dining room, Laura and Steele
exchanging a look before joining them.
Later, in their room, Steele comments, "Rather cryptic greeting
from our host, wouldn't you say? Rife with all shorts of dark
meaning." Laura hasn't spoken, and Steele picks up his suitcase
from the bed. "You're right. No sense brooding over it tonight,
ey?" he asks, as Laura finishes unpacking her case. He picks
up a pillow. "One pillow or two, Myrtle my pet?"
"DON'T call me Myrtle!"
"Miss Groggins hardly sounds appropriate, given the-"
his eyes wander toward the bed, "circumstances."
"You're terribly delighted with yourself, aren't you? Manipulating
me to this island under the guise of investigating Arthur Bellows'
"Laura, you're far too bright for me to manipulate you into
anything that you didn't really want to do. You wanted to spend
this weekend with me as much as I wanted to spend it with you."
"That's right. I did."
"May I ask what changed your mind?"
"I'm the same person you left Los Angeles with this afternoon,"
he points out.
"That's the problem. I was hoping, the two of us, alone,
without Murphy or Bernice- or a real case, would bring out another
side of you."
"I was under the impression that we were inching our way
in that direction."
"You HAD to introduce me as your current enamorata, just
to make sure that we'd wind up in the same room. If you were
so certain that I wanted to be here with you, why did you feel
the need to manuever me into this ROOM?!" He looks uncomfortable
again. "Because you're always looking for an angle here,
an EDGE THERE! You couldn't play it straight, could you? Just
this ONCE." She picks up her nightgown, goes to the bathroom
door, and pauses. "Do you know how romantic, how exciting,
how much FUN it would have been sneaking into one anothers room?"
She goes into the bath.
"Perhaps I was hedging my bet. But, I never know where I
stand with you. All this never mixing business with pleasure
business. I'll admit- my desire got the better of my innate honesty.
But if a bit of chicanery forced us to explore other facets of
our relationship, I felt it was worth it. For both of us."
He looks at the door, tries the handle, finds it locked. He bends
down, trying to peer through the keyhole. "You seem to be
spending an inordinate amount of time locked in this bathroom,"
he tells her. "Laura?" He straightens, frustrated.
"This is beginning to resemble a honeymoon," he says.
Late that night, Cindi's giggles fill the corridor, and Steele,
unable to sleep, returns to the room from a walk, wearing his
robe and pajamas. He quietly closes the door, and goes to the
bed, where Laura is sound asleep. He leans over, kissing her
cheek. She doesn't stir.
He goes to the small sofa, and pulls the blanket over himself,
still wide awake, as Cindi's laughter continues.
The next morning, Feldman is banging on Ambrose's door as Madeline
and Randi stand by. "Ambrose?" he calls. Dominic appears.
There are pink feathers all over the floor of the hall. Laura
and Steele join them. "Ambrose! What's going on in there?
"Perhaps they overslept," Steele suggests. "They
were up rather late last night."
"Come on! What's going on in there? Open up!"
Dominic pushes him out of the way and kicks open the doors. Inside,
they find Cindi, nude, parts of her body strategically covered
with pink feathers, lying on the fur covered bed. "She's-
dead," Randi says.
As they stand there, looking a the body, Feldman asks Steele,
"How did she die, Doctor?"
Laura steps in. "That's probably impossible to tell without
an autopsy, am I right, Doctor?" she says.
"Well, take an educated guess," Feldman suggests. "After
all, you're the medical expert."
Steele picks up a feather. "Here's your cause of death."
"A feather?" Madeline questions.
"It's my sad duty to inform you that Cindi Sikes was literally
tickled to death."
Downstairs, Madeline has a drink. "How can anyone be tickled
to death?" she asks.
Steele, still carrying the feather, turns from the window. "Hmm?
How? How. I'm afraid the explanation is far too technical for
you laymen," he says.
"I remember my brother telling me that laughter temporarily
cuts off the air supply to the lungs," Feldman says. "Therefore,
prolonged laughter could, conceiveably induce a form of asphixiation.
Am I substantially correct, Doctor?"
"I sometimes wish that we gentlemen of the medical profession
were half as concise as you gentlemen of the bar."
"Tickled to death," Randi said. "And I always
thought that was just something you said when you were happy."
Steele turns to pace. "I heard Mr. Blinn and Miss Sikes
around three this morning. Found myself in the throes of-"
Laura glares at him. "Some back problems-" Laura smiles.
"Attempted to walk of the excruciating pain. Miss Sikes
was giggling her way to ecstacy."
"Are you saying it was an accident, Doctor?" Feldman
"In the heat of passion," Steele suggests. "In
the grip of heavenly transport, perhaps Mr. Blinn simply got
carried away and didn't know what he was doing - or when to stop."
"Ambrose Blinn is a sadistic FREAK," Madeline says.
"Well, he likes to inflict pain under the guise of pleasure,"
Feldman agrees, "but-"
"This is just the sort of thing he'd come up with,"
"I think we should find our host," Laura tells them.
"Put the question of what happened to him."
"Good. Let's split up," Feldman suggests. "It'll
be more efficient that way. Some of us search the grounds, others
take the house."
Randi grabs Steele's arm. "I want Dr. Bellows for a partner."
"Randi," Feldman says. "This is not an Easter
egg hunt." When Steele and Randi move away, Feldman looks
at Laura. They pair up. Dominic goes out the side door, alone.
Outside, Steele and Randi are walking in the woods. "Ambrose!"
"It's just like Blind Man's Bluff," Randi declares.
"Come out, come out, whereever you are!" she calls.
Steele grins. "Ambrose! Mr. Blinn!"
"Ambrose!" Randi calls.
Steele stops her, turning to face her. "Uh, Miss Russell,
refresh my memory. When exactly did I- uh-"
"Two years ago," she tells him. She laughs. "I'm
really very naughty."
They start walking again. "Your personal life is your own."
"No, no. I mean, Dr. Harvey Burnbaum was supposed to do
the operation, but he got in a fender bender
on the way to the hospital, and since I was all prepped and everything,
he asked if you could take over for him. So you probably never
even knew my name," she tells him, as they pause again.
She puts her arms around his neck.
"So we've never actually met before, except in the operating
room. And me behind a surgical mask."
"And when I came to, there was Dr. Burnbaum, and as soon
as I got out of the hospital, I went straight to Switzerland,
and I never got a chance to thank you properly-" she says,
pulling him into a kiss.
Surprised, Steele finds himself on the ground, Randi on top of
him, kissing him. "Oh, please!"
"This is FUN!" she insists.
"Um, Miss Russell, please. I'm a man of medicine-"
She kisses him again. Steele, struggling to free himself, throws
his arm out. His hand lands on a shoe. He frowns, looking in
that direction. "Uh, Miss Russell-" When she doesn't
stop, he pushes her away. "Miss Russell!" He indicates
that she should look nearby. She screams.
Laura and Feldman hear the scream and find them. Steele's bending
over the body as Randi stands nearby. "Ambrose," Feldman
"He's- dead," Randi tells him. Feldman draws her away.
Laura joins Steele. "And then there were none," Steele
"That's what I'm afraid of," Laura agrees.
"No," Steele insists. "The movie."
"Barry Fitzgerald, Walter Huston, Louis Hayward, June Depree,
for God's sake."
"Get a grip on yourself. You're coming unhinged."
"A group of people are lured to a remote island and systematically
murdered. Laura, we're trapped on this island with a crazed killer."
He looks around nervously.
Back at the house, Steele announces, "Ambrose Blinn- was
choked to death."
"How?" Feldman asks. "Rope? Wire? Strangled?"
"Garbage," Steele says.
"I'm sorry, sir. I thought it was a pertinent question."
"Garbage," Steele says again.
"Okay, okay, Doctor. You've made your point."
"Ambrose Blinn was literally choked to death with garbage.
You know: pork rinds, lettuce stems, potato peels."
"Are you sure?" Madeline asks.
"I saw it with my own eyes. The man's mouth was a veritible
salad of death. Believe me, it wasn't a very appetizing sight."
Laura moves toward the TV. "And from the appearance of the
body, he'd been dead several days."
"Then he couldn't have greeted us last night from his bedroom,
could he?" Feldman realizes.
Laura turns on the TV, and the greeting begins to play. She turns.
"It was on tape," she explains. "All anyone had
to do was press the 'Play' button, and Ambrose magically appeared
on the screen, allowing everyone to think he was upstairs."
"But we were all in the dining room when he started talking,"
Randi points out.
"All except-," Feldman recalls, looking at Madeline.
"I was playing the piano. And I was just as suprised as
any of you when Ambrose appeared on that television."
"It's obvious you turned the tape on," he insisted.
"There's a timer on this machine," Laura tells them.
"Anyone of us could have set it and been safely in the dining
room surrounded by witnesses."
"Which means?" Madeline asks.
"Which means," Steele says, "One of US is the
"I think it's time we called the authorities," Laura
"No phones," Dominic tells her. "They won't be
hooked up until the official opening next week."
"No phones?" Steele questions.
"No nothin. No radio, no TV, no shortwave, even the electricity's
runnin on the emergency generator," Dominic tells them.
"How do you know this, Mr. Dominic?" Laura wants to
"I like to know them things."
Steele moves to join Laura. "It seems our first priority
is to stay alive until the helicopter returns next Monday. Toward
that end, I suggest never being alone with one other person.
Always make sure there's a third party present." he says,
as the others eye each other suspiciously. "That way, the
killer won't be able to strike again."
"And then there were none?" Laura asks him.
"You must admit, a knowledge of cinema occassionally comes
in handy," he says.
"Well, that's sound advice, doctor," Feldman points
out. "Except for one thing: What if there's more than one
killer?" Everyone looks at Steele, who grins self conciously.
- Laura and Steele
are in Cindi's room, Steele playing around with the video camera,
which is on a tripod.
- "More than
one killer." Steele asks, "Do you think that's possible?"
- "Whoever it
is has a certain poetic bent," Laura adds.
- "Well, Ambrose
Blinn was accused of publishing garbage, and he was choked
to death with it," Laura explained.
- "And Cindi
Sykes, who had an irritating propensity for giggling..."
herself to death," Laura finished.
- "Any candidates?"
- "None of the
guests seem overly fond of their host."
- "Hmm. That
might account for Blinn's death, but what about Cindi?"
Steele asks. "I hate to speak ill of the dead, but she seemed
far too vacuous to do anything that might drive someone to murder."
- "She did replace
Randi in Blinn's affections," Laura points out.
- "Yes, but you
should have heard the two of them over dinner, exchanging annecdotes
over Blinn's sexual preferences like so many recipes...Are you
familiar with the honey thing? Well..." (He clears his throat.)
"Apparantly..." (pause) "...you heat a bowl of
honey, take half a pound of shredded walnuts..."
- Randi begings to
scream and they run from the room.
Randi is screaming, "Help me! He's trying to kill me!"
when Laura and Steele come on the scene to find her and Dominic
darting around a circular settee, her with a fireplace poker,
and him with a pool cue. "He came at me with that pool cue!"
Randi tells them.
"She's crazy! I turned around and she's standing over me
with that poker!"
"You should know," he says. "You were my biggest
star." Laura grabs Randi.
She grabs the poker. "A little warm for a fire, Miss Russell."
"Ask him what he was doing in here, going through Ambrose's
"I wanted a look at the books," Dominic says.
"I put up the green to back these clubs. We were supposed
to be partners, fifty fifty. Only Ambrose forgot how to add when
it came to my share! So I wanted to see just how much he snookered
me out of!"
"How's that for a motive?" Randi asks.
"It's fine for Ambrose," Laura admits. "But it
still leaves Cindi."
"All last night, he was comin on to her, tryin' to get her
to go upstairs with him. She just looked in his ugly face and
said if she wanted an animal, she'd go to the zoo!"
Dominic rushes toward her, Steele grabs him. "What about
you? What about you? Ambrose kicked you out on your kazoo!"
From behind Laura, Randi says, "Don't be too sure, toad
face. I got invited here, didn't I?! Maybe Ambrose missed a REAL
"There ain't more than ten percent of you that's real."
Randi tries to get at him. "People PLEASE!" Steele
insists. "Let's confine ourselves to name calling! It's
far more civilized."
In their room as they dress for dinner, Steele tells Laura, "Well,
it's obvious that we can't keep our eye on everyone."
"Maybe our killer has bagged his limit," Laura says,
going into the bathroom. "There won't be anymore victims."
"There should be at least one more."
She looks at him. "What makes you so certain?"
"Because I know who it should be."
"Alright, I'll bite. Who?"
"You." She stares at him. "'And Then There Were
None'? Barry Fitzgerald and Walter Huston faked Fitzgerald's
death. With everyone believing that he was just another victim-
he was free to search for the killer." Laura goes into the
bath and closes the door. Steele goes to the door. "Believe
me, Laura, it will work. When Dr. Arthur Bellows pronounces you
dead, who'll question it?" he tells the door. "With
everyone downstairs, you'll be free to go through their rooms
and search for evidence." He tries the door, it's locked,
so he bends to the keyhole again, kneeling. "You'll be able
to- watch their every move without them knowing it." She
opens the door suddenly.
"Loose something?" she asks.
"Uh,-a- cufflink. Oh, here it is." He gets up.
"Your plan is brilliant," she admits.
"Of course it is. It's from movie."
"Except for one flaw."
"The killer will know he- or she didn't kill me."
"Hmm. THAT'S why it worked in the movie," he recalled.
"Barry Fitzgerald was the killer."
"My death- is an accident."
He grins. "Laura." He puts his hands on her shoulders.
"You've done it again. Saved the day with your analytical
approach, your inspired inventiveness-" He pushes her gently
onto the bed, following her. "What say we take a little
rest before we launch into this strenuous plan of yours?"
"I'm not tired," she tells him.
"Perfect. Neither am I."
She gets up. "We'll need some kind of diversion."
"Are you wearing pantyhose, by any chance?"
"Strip." Laura's eyes widen.
Later, after dinner, Madeline's playing the piano again when
the lights begin to flicker. Dominic stands up. Feldman says,
"Generator's running low. If we don't conserve energy, we
won't last the night. Come on, help me get some candles."
"I'm not going anywhere alone with you," Dominic tells
"Myrtle," Feldman says, "Would you please join
Laura pauses as Steele joins the men in the doorway on his way
into the room. "Before we go anywhere, I have a confession
to make." They all stare at her. "Oh, no. No, it's
not that. I- I hate the name Myrtle. My- My middle name is Laura.
Please. Please, call me Laura."
Feldman and Dominic exchange a confused glance, then move off
as Steele grins. As she passes, he says, "Tsk, tsk, tsk.
You really know how to disappoint a crowd."
"Just get the ball rolling, will you?" She says, then
follows the others.
Steele joins Randi at the bar. "Ready to do it, Miss Russell?"
She takes his arm. "I'm ready to do a lot more than that,
but if it gets the ball rolling-"
"That's the idea," he says as they approach the piano.
"The Doc and I want to dance," Randi tells Madeline.
"Play something we can grope to."
"I told you, I don't do requests."
"Not even for old times sake?" Randi asks.
Madeline looks at her. "Especially for old times sake."
"Hey, don't take it out on me. I'm not the one who shafted
you. You wanna get even with someone, go shove some more garbage
down Ambrose's throat. That is, if you didn't do it the first
"Look who's talking," Madeline counters.
"I take it you and Mr. Blinn weren't on the best of terms,"
"He was a lowlife," Madeline says. "A sick growth."
"Then why accept his invitation?"
"He owed me."
"Artie doesn't wanna hear your sad story, Madeline,"
"On the contrary," Steele assures her. "Artie's
"Two years ago," Madeline tells him, "Ambrose
formed a record company. Just for me. Six months later, he folded
it. Said he couldn't GIVE my albums away. I was reduced to playing
sleezy little clubs in the Valley."
"You had your shot, Madeline," Randi points out. "More
"I wanted another. Besides, he owed me, after all I did
"What did you do for him, Madeline?" Steele asks.
She looks up at him, then at Randi, and starts to play again.
"How's this?" She starts playing "It's the Wrong
Randi and Steele start dancing. "What DID Madeline do for
Ambrose?" Steele asks quietly, but Randi doesn't answer.
She starts singing.
"It's the wrong time, and the wrong place.-"
Laura, Feldman, and Dominic return with candles as the lights
flicker again. Laura glances from Steele and Randi to the lights.
"I'm gonna turn off the generator," Dominic decides.
"Uh," Feldman says, "Would you like us to go with
Dominic turns, opens his coat. "I brought a friend,"
he tells them, the open coat revealing the holstered gun. He
Steele tells Randi, "Why don't we continue our gyrations
up in my room? You slip away now, and I join you at the propitious
"You didn't happen to notice if there was any honey in the
kitchen, did you?"
"I'll check," he tells her. She slinks away. Feldman
and Laura light the candles and the lights begin to flicker more.
Steele joins Laura. "Care to finish this dance, Myrtle?"
he asks. She glares. "Excuse me. Laura." He leads her
to the center of the room. "Is the ketchup still on the
dining room table?"
They start to dance. "I wish we could find something a little
"No one will be able to tell," he assures her. "Relax."
The lights go out, and Randi screams.
Everyone takes off to find out what's happened. She's upstairs
in the hall, terrified. "Are you all right, Randi?"
She runs and throws herself into Steele's arms. "I walked
in- and something clammy grabbed me." They go into Steele's
room to find a line strung with panty hose hanging over it.
"Ugh," Feldman says. "They're wet."
"Odd place for Miss Groggins to hang her laundry,"
"Yes," Feldman agrees. "If she's the one who put
"Why don't we ask her?" Dominic says.
Steele looks around at the others. "Where is she?"
"I thought she was behind us," Madeline says.
They return to the stairs, and find Laura laying there, still.
"Stand back," Steele tells Feldman. "Let a professional
attend to this."
"She must have fallen in the commotion," Feldman guesses
as Steele kneels over her, checking her pulse.
"Or was pushed," Randi says.
"I'm afraid we shall never know," Steele says, standing,
a serious expression on his face. "Myrtle- Laura - Groggins-
is dead." He picks up the "body" and carries it
upstairs to the bedroom.
- Steele carries Laura's
limp "dead" body into a bedroom and places her on a
spare bed. Groans and says in a whisper, "Putting on a little
weight, aren't we?" Scoots a pillow underneath her head,
then adds, "I certainly hope you're the last victim. We're
beginning to run out of rooms."
- He crosses her arms
over her chest and patting her hands, he leaves.
Later, Laura is sleeping, the piano is being played - and she
wakes as she hears the door open. Seeing the point of a gun,
she turns quickly away as the gun is fired- the bullet striking
the pillow where her head was only seconds before. The shot sends
Laura into the hallway, where she's met by Steele. "Somebody
else saw the movie!" she tells him.
"Did I hear a shot?" he asks.
"I hope so, because there's a bullet hole in my pillow the
size of Detroit."
Randi and Dominic come out. "Miss Groggins," Randi
says. "You're not dead!"
"No," Steele admits. "Miss Groggins is not dead.
In fact, Miss Groggins is not Miss Groggins. She's Laura Holt,
my most able assistant, from the detective agency which bears
my name: Remington Steele. Perhaps you've heard of me."
"No," Randi and Dominic both say.
"Oh. Well," he tells Laura, "It IS a bit far south
"I heard a shot!" Feldman says, joining them, surprised
when he sees Laura. "What the HELL'S going on here?"
"We're private detectives, Mr. Feldman," Laura explains,
"investigating the death of our client, Dr. Arthur Bellows."
"But-" Feldman begins.
"You mean," Randi asks, horrified, "I bared my
soul to a- peeper?"
"And a delightful soul it was, Miss Russell," Steele
assures her. "Surgically speaking."
"Pervert!" she accuses, raising her arm to slap him.
Steele grabs her arm, stopping her. "Just a moment, Miss
Russell. Someone attempted to kill Miss Holt just now. I think
it's time we searched everyone's room for a weapon."
"Unless Mr. Dominic cares to show us his 'friend',"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The one you carry in your inside coat pocket," Laura
"I'm not showing you anything, lady." He starts to
turn away, but Steele grabs him, cutting him off.
"Uh, uh, uh."
"Hold it!" Dominic says. He opens his coat. The gun's
"Where is it?" Laura asks.
"Where you'll never find it," he says.
Steele starts for Dominic's room, "I'll find it," he
says, only to stop as Randi speaks.
"Wait a minute. We're not all here. Where's Madeline?"
"She was downstairs, playing," Feldman says.
"But she stopped," Steele recalls- "right before
"It's her," Dominic says. "That dippy broad always
hated Ambrose," he tells them as they all turn to follow
him. "She's probably downstairs, waiting to pop us off,
one by one."
They enter the room, and Laura rushes to the piano. "Madeline."
She's laying on the bench, blood on her head, a peice of ivory
scrimsaw on the floor.
Steele picks it up. "Ivory. For someone who tickled the
ivories. Another grim piece of poetry."
"Well," Laura points out. "We're down to four
possible victims- and one definite murderer." She looks
at the others.
Later, Laura is laying in bed, Steele on the sofa. "Laura?"
"I've been thinking of what you said. About honesty in our
relationship. And- in the interest of a new forthrightness, I
feel there are certain things you should know about me."
"Pleasant things?" she asks.
"Well-" he hesitates.
Laura sits up. "Sometimes, not knowing is better,"
she admits. "For instance, I wouldn't want to know you had
a wife and kiddies tucked away somewhere. Or that you killed
someone- Or swindled little old ladies out of their life savings.
When I invented Remington Steele, I gave him all the qualities
that I admire in a man: honest, integrity, compassion- desire
to help others -"
"Sounds as if you're destined to be endlessly disappointed
in me," Steele comments.
"Maybe I created an impossible role for anyone to play,"
Laura admits. She gets out of bed and walks toward him. "We
- have a very- tenuous relationship, you and I." She kneels
beside him. "And- if we ever - cross that line- take that
step - turn that corner-" she laughs self conciously. "All
those awful eufemisms for going to bed with someone- Then maybe
I'll want to know. Everything. Then again, maybe I won't. But
I would want to know it would- mean more than a moment. That
it would last longer than a weekend in the Devil's Playground."
"A commitment, of sorts." She nods. He reaches out
to touch her hair. "I've spent the better part of my life
avoiding those things like the proverbial plague."
"I figured as much," Laura tells him. "But the
fact that you wanted to be honest with me is a hell of a start."
She kisses him and then rises to go back to bed.
The next morning, Steele and Laura come from their room and begin
knocking on doors, waking the other three. He knocks on Dominic's
"Rise and shine, Dominic," he calls, then goes on.
"Mr. Feldman?" Laura calls, knocking.
"Yes?" he responds.
Steele knocks on Randi's door. "Miss Russell!" There's
no response. "Miss Russell!" Still nothing. "Miss
Russell!" Dominic and Feldman join them. Steele opens the
door and they enter to find Randi, laying on the bed. Steele
checks her pulse, finding a hypodermic needle on the floor. He
sniffs it. "Can't smell anything."
"Could have been an air bubble."
"Poor Randi," Feldman muses. "She slept her way
right to the bottom."
Laura and Steele stand. "You want to tell us about it, Mr.
Feldman?" Laura asks.
Back downstairs, he explains, "It was Randi who came up
with the initial financing for Devil magazine. Ambrose promised
they'd split everything down the middle. But when the magazine
took off, which was almost after the first issue, he realized
what a gold mine he was sitting on, and he didn't want to split
up anything with anybody. So, she hired me to take him to court.
She had him, too- even though there was nothing in writing they
had a verbal contract, an oral agreement- witnessed by one other
"Madeline Vickers," Laura said.
"Lawyers, Miss Holt, are a glut on the market. When you're
merely adequate, as I am, there aren't a lot of firms clamoring
for your services. So, it wasn't a difficult decision for me
to make when Ambrose offered to let me represent the magazine
in exchange for sabatoging her case. No, it was depressingly
easy. Everybody has a price, I guess."
"And Madeline's was a recording contract."
"Ambrose set up the label, she had a convenient lapse of
memory, the case didn't even come to trial."
"Why don't you ask him who gets control of the magazine
now that now that Ambrose is dead?" Dominic suggests.
"Are congradulations in order, Mr. Feldman?" Steele
"Only, as long as those two broads were alive," Dominic
suggests, "There was always the chance that Madeline would
tell the truth and he'd wind up with Randi as a partner."
"What about you, huh?" Feldman counters. "With
Ambrose with out of the way, he'd have full ownership of the
Devil's Playground clubs."
"Great reason to ice Ambrose. But I had no beef with the
others. YOU are it, Feldman."
"I've had enough of this kangeroo court," Feldman declares,
and takes off.
Dominic takes a step, then looks at Steele. "Well? Aren't
you gonna stop him?" he asks.
"We're on an island, Mr. Dominic, he can't get very far."
"You think he was planning to be found here with all these
stiffs when the helicopter showed up?" Laura looks thoughtful.
"He's got a way off this island- we gotta find him!"
He takes off.
Laura looks at Steele. "He does make a certain amount of
sense," she tells him, and moves off, leaving Steele no
choice but to follow her.
Outside, they find Dominic bending over Feldman's body. He tosses
a rock away, then fires his gun at them before taking off. Laura
and Steele go to Feldman, finding that he was bashed in the head
with a rock. "Not very poetic," he comments. "But
it certainly got the job done."
"We'd better get back to the house," Laura tells him.
"Before he does."
They take off. As they enter the house, she tells him, "You
lock the doors and windows down here, I'll take the second floor."
As Steele is locking windows, he hears the piano being played.
Cautiously he follows the sound to Ambrose's room, where Laura
is standing. "I found it hidden in Dominic's room,"
she tells him, then turns off the player.
"That seems to nail it. He killed Madeline, put that tape
on, and was back in his room in time to react to the attempt
on your life."
"He won't leave this island until he's positive we're not
around to testify against him," she says.
"What a wonderful, romantic weekend this has turned out
to be," Steele comments. "Trapped in a house piled
with corpses, while a determined killer lurks outside."
They pause as they leave the room to look both ways, then Steele
nods for them to go.
Laura and Steele
are in the dark in front of the glowing fireplace as a thunderstorm
rages outside. Steele is sitting on a coffee table and Laura
on the edge of the couch cushion.
Steele says. "On the remote chance that, uh...we don't survive
this til tomorrow, I'd feel better if you knew a few things about
me. Perhaps not very pleasant things, but...It was Dublin; the
city was rife with unrest...Trouble to the north, trouble to
- "Is that where
you were born...Dublin?"
- "Laura, please.
These confessionals are trying enough without interruptions."
- Steele continues.
"Uh, where was I? Uh...Ahh, Dublin."
- A shutter begins
- "What was that?" he asks
"It- sounded like- a- shutter," she says, "Banging."
"Does that mean we have to go back upstairs with all those-"
"Well, I don't think we went Dominic to find a way in- especially
with him having the only gun in the house. Okay?" They get
up, and go upstairs.
"If we're fortunate to leave this island alive," Steele
tells her as they go upstairs, "I'm going to insist that
we carry weapons. Especially when we're NOT working on a case."
They start trying to trace the banging noise, then hear a creaking
noise. Steele pauses before the door. "I - suppose this
is- one instance where- ladies don't go first?" he asks.
He starts forward. Laura places a hand on his arm.
"Think of me as your backup."
"Yes," he agrees, opening the door. The lightening
reveals Dominic hanging by a rope, dead. "Dominic? Laura?
If he's, then who's-"
"Of course what? This would seem to suggest that one of
us is the murderer. Oh, what a weekend."
"Something I said," Laura recalls.
"Something you said?"
"About somebody ELSE having seen the movie."
"You mean, pretending to be a victim?" he asks.
"We have to start checking rooms," she tells him as
they hear Cindi's laughter below them.
"I'm afraid that won't be necessary," he says.
They leave. In the drawing room, the VCR is playing, showing
a laughing Cindi frolicking on Ambrose's bed. Laura pauses it.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Randi says,
appearing from the doorway, dressed in a pantsuit.
"Miss Russell. I must admit, this is quite a surprise."
She's holding Dominic's gun on them. "Why? Because you thought
I was too dumb to plan this weekend?"
"No offense, but you do give the impression of someone more
comfortable with cartoons than Kafka."
"Shame on you, Mr. Steele. You're just like everybody else.
When you have a face and a body, that's all people figure you
have. Devil magazine was going to be my chance to prove I was
good at something besides showing myself. Only, Ambrose didn't
give me what was coming to me."
"So he got what was coming to him," Steele says.
"How'd you get him to tape that greeting?" Laura asks.
"He LOVED to prove how clever he was. When everyone was
in watching him on television, he was going to sneak through
the kitchen and be waiting at the dinner table when you came
"I didn't fool you for a moment with my impersonation of
Dr. Bellows, did I?"
"No, Mr. Steele. Not when it took two years in Switzerland
to put me back together after that drunken butcher cut me up."
"How did Dominic get in the house?" Laura wants to
"I hope you don't mind us asking all these questions,"
Steele says. "But we're really quite taken with your creativeness."
"I unlocked the rear door. Didn't want the poor man to catch
his death outside."
"Obviously you intend to leave this island before tomorrow
morning," Laura says.
"There's a boat moored on the next island, just two point
six miles with the current. I swim every day to keep in shape."
"Well," Steele says, clapping softly, moving toward
her. "I, for one, salute you, Miss Russell." Laura
steps back, pushing the resume button on the VCR, causing Cindi's
laughter to distract Randi, allowing Steele to grab her as the
gun goes off. He pushes her to the sofa.
She looks up at him. "You know, I liked you a hell of a
lot better when you were Dr. Bellows."
As they approach the offices the next day, Steele is telling
Laura, "Nothing like a weekend away from the pressures of
work to - rest the body and renew the spirit. Just one thing
before we leave the Devil's Playground behind us for good. What
exactly was in that hypodermic needle?"
"Something called digitalis leaf. The right dose, and it
slows down the pulse and heart rate to the point where only a
doctor- " she fingers his lapel, " a REAL doctor, can
tell you're not dead."
"Um. I never told you about the walnuts and honey, did I?"
Murphy and Bernice are looking at something when the doors open,
and they enter, Laura laughing "Well, well," Murphy
asks. "How was it?"
"Incredible. Fantastic. Couldn't have been a more rewarding
experience," Steele enthuses.
"We started to get to know one another quite well,"
Laura tells them.
"You did?" Bernice asks.
"Our leader was getting very heavy into the truth game."
"Really?" Murphy asks.
"Absolutely," Steele confirms. "Honesty is the
new watchword around here now."
"Good," Laura says. "Then we'll start with your
name. Your REAL name." Bernice and Murphy look on expectantly
as Steele wavers.
"My name. As William Shakespeare so aptly put it, a rose
by any other name-"
"Still has thorns," Murphy finishes for him.