Mildred Krebbs placed the last letter on her boss's desk, then
turned as she heard a voice in the outer office. "Hello?
Is there anyone here?"
"Just a minute," Mildred called back. Mr. and Mrs. Steele
should be returning any moment -she sighed, wishing she could
have gone to Las Vegas with them. But someone had to stay and
"man the fort", as Mr. Steele had put it. Near her desk,
she found an attractive, dark haired young woman, dressed very
expensively, waiting. "May I help you?"
She smiled. "I'd like to see Mr. Steele," she said,
her British accent clearly in evidence.
"He's not here yet," Mildred said, going to sit in her
chair. "I'm expecting he and Mrs. Steele shortly." She
opened the ledger before her. "Do you have an appointment?"
"No. I only just arrived from London and came straight here,-"
the woman began explaining.
Mildred's eyes narrowed. "London? Are you another of Mr.
Steele's 'old friends'?" She asked suspiciously. "Because
if you are, you're wasting your time -"
The woman shook her head, obviously surprised at the attack. "I've
never met Mr. Steele, Miss-"
"Krebbs. Mildred Krebbs. You're here about a case, then?"
"Yes. I want him to find my brother. Although, I'm not certain
that anyone can -"
Mildred grinned. "If anyone can find him, Mr. Steele can."
"Then, may I wait for his arrival?" she asked.
Regretting her earlier suspicion, Mildred smiled widely. "Sure.
I'll get you a cup of coffee -or tea?"
"Tea, if it's no bother."
Mildred returned quickly with the cup of tea. "You can wait
in Mr. Steele's office, Miss-"
"Jessica Beecham," the woman said. "Thank you."
Mildred saw Miss Beecham settled and returned to her own desk,
thoughtful. There was something vaguely familiar about the woman,
but for the life of her, Mildred couldn't figure out what it was.
She was still musing over it when the glass doors opened and her
employers entered, looking very happy. "Ah, Mildred. Good
morning."
"Chief. You're late."
"Sorry, Mildred," Laura apologized, sitting on the edge
of the desk. "The Auburn had a flat tire, and we had trouble
finding a place to repair it."
"How as Vegas?" Mildred asked.
The two exchanged a look, and Laura smiled. "You agreed to
tell her, Remington."
"Tell me what? What's up, Chief?" Mildred asked, forgetting
momentarily about Miss Beecham waiting in Steele's office.
Remington Steele drew a paper from his pocket and handed it to
the older woman with a flourish. "This might explain a few
things, Mildred."
Mildred glanced at the writing. "It's a -marriage license,"
she said. "Las Vegas -two days ago? But-you were married
on that fishing boat. I was there --"
Laura felt sorry for her confusion. "It was a con, Mildred.
A fake marriage to trick Estelle Becker and the INS into believing
that Remington and I were married so they wouldn't deport him."
Mildred shook her head. "A fake? But-Juan. He performed the
ceremony -"
Laura shook her head, not noticing that Steele looked a trifle
uncomfortable. "He wasn't the captain, Mildred," she
explained, about to seek Steele's assistance.
"But he WAS," Mildred insisted. "He told Estelle
Becker that is was luck that you had come to him then instead
of the day before."
Steele spoke quickly. "Mildred, were there any calls?"
Laura slid from the desk. "Just a minute. I'd like for Mildred
to explain what she just said."
Mildred glanced at Steele. "Juan had just made the last payment
on the boat that morning," she said haltingly. "He owned
it outright and WAS the captain. He said Mr. Steele had helped
him find the financing -"
"Why you--" Laura said, advancing on Steele.
Backing away, Steele said, "Now, Laura -"
"You lied to me! A fake marriage, you said. Juan's not the
captain, you said. Three years and we could go our separate ways,
you said."
Giving her his most disarming smile, Steele said, "Laura,
I was going to tell you -"
"When? After our twentieth anniversary?!"
"Sorry, Chief," Mildred apologized, uncertain what was
going on, but aware that Laura was furious.
"Excuse me?" A voice came from the doorway of the other
office, "Mr. Steele?"
Three people turned to look at Jessica Beecham. Mildred, sensing
a way to disarm the heated atmosphere, hustled into action. "Oh,
Miss Beecham. I'm so sorry. Remington Steele, Laura Holt-Steele,
Miss Jessica Beecham. She's trying to find her brother, Mr. Steele."
Giving Mildred a glance of gratitude, Steele stepped toward the
woman. "How do you do, Miss Beecham? Shall we go into my
office?"
Laura hung back, still angry. "That -"
"Now, honey," Mildred said, putting an arm around Laura's
tense shoulders. "Give him a chance to explain."
"Explain? Explain what? That instead of conning the INS,
he conned ME?"
"Laura," Steele called, "are you going to join
us?"
"Coming, Remington," Laura ground out. She was going
to make him pay for this one. If it was the last thing she did,
he'd pay.
Jessica looked from Laura's grim face to Steele. "If I've
come at a bad time, I -"
"Nonsense," Steele said, reassuringly. "Just a
minor tiff-" He smiled down at Laura, then cleared his throat
before continuing. "Mildred mentioned something about your
brother. How long has he been missing, Miss Beecham?"
"Some time," Jessica said, trying to find a way to frame
her explanation.
"When did you last see him?" Laura asked, noting the
woman's uncertainty.
"Actually, Mrs. Steele, I've never met him."
"You've never seen your brother?"
"It's a very long and complicated story," Jessica said,
a slow blush creeping over her cream complexion. "I'm not
even sure where to begin."
Laura sat down across from the woman. "The beginning is always
a good place."
"I know." She looked at Steele. "My mother was
Lesley Beecham-Does that name mean anything to you, Mr. Steele?"
Steele thought for a moment, searching his memory. "No. Not
that I recall. Should it?"
Jessica's features fell. "I thought, perhaps my father might've
mentioned her. I suppose he wanted to forget all about her -"
"Your father, Miss Beecham?" Steele questioned.
"Daniel Chalmers, Mr. Steele," she said simply. "I
was told that you and he were good friends-" she watched
him walk in silence across the room to stand at the window. "He
did die while visiting you in Ireland -"
Laura's eyes moved from her husband to Jessica. "Daniel Chalmers
was YOUR father?"
"Yes. Oh, I'm making a hash of this." She took a deep
breath. "My mother met him when she was very young. He was
trying to con her father out of some money. When his game was
exposed, she ran away with him. A few months later, she returned
with no wedding ring, and a problem. She was expecting Daniel's
child. Her father, my grandfather, took her back in, on the condition
that she never see Chalmers again. Grandfather died when I was
twenty, and Mother became ill soon after -but she used to tell
me about my father." Her blue eyes became dreamy. "About
how handsome and charming he was. I never knew his last name,
and she kept my birth certificate in a bank safety deposit box.
She died two weeks ago-soon after Daniel Chalmers was posthumously
knighted and buried. Her will left him some money -which I think
should go to his son."
"What makes you think Daniel had a son, Miss Beecham?"
Steele asked without turning from the window, his voice roughed
with emotion. "I knew him for twenty years and he never told
me about any son. Or ANY family, for that matter."
Jessica heard the coolness in his tone, but pressed on. "Well,
he never knew I existed, I suppose. And as for his son, he told
Mother that he hoped to find his son one day. That the boy's mother
had died in childbirth while Daniel had been in prison for a confidence
game gone awry. All he knew was that he had a son."
"I see. I'm not sure the Remington Steele Agency can be of
any help, Miss Beecham," Steele began, only to have Laura
rise to her feet and say,
"Remington, I think we should talk-In my office." She
opened the door. "If you will excuse us, Miss Beecham-"
"Of course."
Steele hadn't moved, so Laura said, "REMINGTON."
He took a deep breath and turned to precede her into the adjoining
office. Stalking across the smaller room, he picked up a paperweight
from her desk. "I'm in no mood for a lecture, Laura."
"Lecture? That woman in there is your sister. All the family
you have. And you're going to just send her out of here, tell
her to forget about finding her brother -"
Steele threw the paperweight against the file cabinet. "Dammit,
Laura, I spent twenty years with that man. I thought I knew everything
there was to know about him. And now I realize that I didn't know
a thing. Not a damn thing."
Mildred tapped cautiously on the door before peeking around it.
"Is everything all right, Mrs. Steele?"
"Everything is fine, Mildred," Laura said. "See
if Miss Beecham wants some more tea, will you?"
"Sure."
When the door closed, Laura pushed aside her own anger and placed
a hand on her husband's back. "Remington, after Daniel died,
you said that you were going to start showing those people you
cared about how you felt. Surely your sister -"
"Sister?" he asked, turning to look at her. "That
woman in my office is a stranger, Laura. Someone I never knew
existed. If she's really who she says she is."
"That's easy enough to find out. We'll just have Mildred
run a check on her. And in the meantime, we take the case."
He frowned. "Agree to find Jessica Beecham's brother?"
"Why not?" Laura asked, smiling. "She may have
some information that you don't have."
He looked away for a second, then put his arms around Laura. "We
have something to straighten out between us as well."
Laura pulled away, her features distant. "We can discuss
that after we take care of Miss Beecham's problem."
"Laura-" Steele began, stopping as Laura opened the
door and returned to his office, leaving him no choice but to
follow.
Mildred glanced up as they returned. "Here they are now."
Jessica searched Remington's face. "If you don't think you
can help me, Mr. Steele, then I'll go to another agency. I came
here because you knew Daniel Chalmers and because of your excellent
reputation as a private detective," she said, showing more
spirit than she'd shown since entering the office. She stood,
gathering her handbag and jacket. "I intend to find my brother,
Mr. Steele. I haven't any other family, you see-"
"Family is a very important thing, Miss Beecham," Steele
agreed slowly. Jessica went still, watching him. "There's
no need to go elsewhere."
"Then-you'll find him for me? I'll whatever you ask-"
Steele waved away her words. "We can discuss that later.
Where are you staying?"
"Actually, my luggage is still at the airport. I was so anxious
to start the search that I came here straightway. I suppose I'll
find a hotel."
Laura's mind worked furiously. "I have an idea. Mildred,
is everything ready at the new condo?" Upon their return
from Ireland, Laura had agreed -reluctantly, to put her loft on
the market and move into a two bedroom penthouse in the same building
as the old apartment.
"Set and ready to go," Mildred assured her. "The
fridge is even stocked."
"Perfect. You can stay with us, Miss Beecham."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude," Jessica began -
"Laura, I'm sure Miss Beecham would be more comfortable in
a hotel -" The last thing Steele needed was for Laura to
use his own sister as a buffer between them.
Laura laughed. "Nonsense. We have an extra bedroom, and Miss
Beecham needs a place to stay while we locate her brother. Why
don't you take her to the airport and get her luggage while I
start things in motion from this end?"
Steele's eyes clashed in silent battle with Laura's before he
shrugged. "Shall we go, Miss Beecham?"
"If you're certain I won't be a bother -"
"You heard my wife, Miss Beecham. We don't want to disappoint
her, now, do we?"
Laura smiled. "I'll see you both at the penthouse later.
Drive carefully, darling," she said, ushering both Steele
and Jessica out the door.
Mildred frowned at Laura. "What's going on, Mrs. Steele?
What does Miss Beecham have to do with Daniel Chalmers?"
"THAT is what we're going to find out, Mildred. To the computer."
Sighing, Mildred began to push buttons.
Jessica glanced at the set expression of the man behind the wheel
of the Auburn. "This is a lovely car, Mr. Steele."
"Thank you," he said, smiling. "I found it while
working on a case a few years ago." It wasn't the original
car, of course. That one had been stolen, and Mildred and Laura
had surprised him with this one, rebuilt from the ashes of the
original, so to speak.
"If you would rather I not accept your wife's invitation,
Mr. Steele, you can drop me at a hotel. I can have my luggage
delivered -"
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of going against Laura's wishes, Miss
Beecham," Steele told her grimly. "In some ways, she's
more in charge of the Agency than I am." He decided to change
the subject. "Where do you think it would be best to proceed
in our search for your brother?"
"Well, I have a birth certificate," Jessica said.
Steele jammed on the brakes, steering the car to the curb. "A
-birth certificate? Why didn't you mention that before?"
She lifted her shoulders. "I really didn't have a chance,"
she reminded him. Taking an envelope from her purse, Jessica said,
"Both his and mine are in this."
Steele hoped she didn't notice that his hands were shaking as
he took the envelope and opened it. Jessica's was on top, with
Daniel listed as the father. The second was faded, barely readable,
but it listed someone named "Megan O'Hara" as the mother
of a male child, with Daniel as the father again. May 6, 1953.
So that was his birthday. Steele smiled, then frowned as he realized
that the name of the child was too smudged to read. All he could
get was a "D" and "H". Steele looked away.
"Megan O'Hara. Did you look for her?"
Jessica nodded. "I couldn't find any family-and the authorities
would only say that the infant was placed into foster care immediately
after birth, since his father was in prison and wasn't considered
fit to raise him."
Steele refolded the papers. "I'll have Mildred do a computer
check." He smiled. "Let's go and get your things, shall
we?"
"It checks out, Mrs. Steele," Mildred said. "She
is apparently who she says she is, and if so, then she's Mr. Steele's
sister."
"There's something else I want you to do for me, Mildred."
"Sure. Just ask."
Jessica looked around the apartment while Steele put her cases
in the guest room. At least, with Jessica here, Laura wouldn't
be able to run from him and sleep there, he thought, thinking
that perhaps this arrangement might be for the best. He found
Jessica looking at the movie posters that hung on the walls. "So.
You're an old movie buff as well?"
"Yes."
She sighed. "My grandfather and I never got along -and Mother
was so ill that I spent a lot of time away from the house -at
the movies. I used to pretend I was Bacall or Bergman in those
movies. Their lives seemed so much more exciting and ordered than
mine was."
"I know the feeling," Steele said, ruefully. "Laura's
often accused me of being too enthusiastic. I'll fix some tea."
"Please. Miss Krebbs appears to be an excellent receptionist,
but her tea -"
Steele laughed. "If you think it's bad now, you should have
tasted it when we first hired her. I'll see if I can't make it
up to you."
Jessica followed him into the kitchen and watched his efficient
movements. "You seem to know your way around this kitchen,
Mr. Steele."
"A long-time bachelor should."
She watched in silence until he had the water onto boil and the
cups ready. "Tell me about -Daniel Chalmers, Mr. Steele.
What was he like?"
Steele turned his attention back to the stove, unnecessarily adjusting
the flame. "Surely your mother -"
"My mother's memories were those of a young, infatuated girl,
thrilled that such a charming, older man would notice her. Besides
which, she hadn't seen him in over twenty-five years." She
shook her head. "I don't know why, but I trust your impression
of the man. You were his friend for a long time."
"Twenty years," Steele confirmed. "Yes. I was his
friend. Daniel WAS charming, all right. He was always on the watch
for the big score, the one that would put him over the top, enable
his retirement to the South of France. I don't think he would
have been happy if he had," Steele mused. He thrived on the
excitement -the uncertainty, of his chosen profession."
"Was he good?"
"Daniel was the BEST. Especially in the old days. I learned
so much from him. Some of the things he and I got in to -"
"I'd like to hear about them."
"You'd be bored-"
Jessica shook her head. "Not at all. I'm really quite jealous
of you, Mr. Steele," she told him softly.
"Jealous? For what reason?"
"You had twenty years with him. I had none. You were lucky
to have known him."
Steele turned, grateful that the kettle's whistle gave him an
excuse. "I had not idea how lucky," he agreed, "until
it was too late." He filled the teapot and turned with the
tray. "Why don't we go back into the living room to drink
this, and I'll try to recall some our less -colourful escapades."
Her face nearly glowed with gratitude. "Thank you, Mr. Steele."
"Call me Remington."
"If you'll call me Jessica."