Laura entered the loft, tossing her purse onto the chair as she passed. "I can't believe that Jarvis is still insisting that this was an accident!" she declared angrily.
"Laura, look at the evidence," Murphy pointed out. "He was alone in the car on a dangerous section of road. He might have lost a tire- or the brakes on the car-"
"It was a brand new car, Murphy," She said. "He'd only had it a week. I wish now I hadn't talked him into buying it. If I hadn't, then Fred would have driven him to Bakersfield and back, and he'd still be alive." She found the bottle of wine she was looking for and poured a glass for herself. "You want some?"
"No, thank you. "Have you been back out to the crash site since it happened?" he asked.
She stopped, the glass poised halfway to her mouth. "No. I haven't." She put down the glass and moved swiftly toward the door, grabbing her purse as she went. "Let's go."
"Laura," Murphy sighed, shaking his head as she slid the door open and left the loft. Following her, he caught up with her as she opened the drivers side door of the Rabbit. She was full of nervous energy- had been all day. At the wake, she had been like a butterfly, flitting from mourner to mourner, accepting condolences gracefully, and amazing everyone with how well she seemed to be bearing up.
It was only during the quiet moments that the cracks in her carefully crafted façade showed through- and then Murphy thought that perhaps only he and Mildred had noticed them since they knew her so well. Better than her mother and sister, certainly. Abigail and Frances had both tried to be supportive, but Murphy had seen that their cloying sympathy had grated on Laura's nerves. Neither of them had understood Laura's desire to hold an Irish wake, and had complained once or twice about the music and the dancing.
The wake itself had been interesting, and on the way home, Laura had talked nonstop about how well Remington's old friends from his previous life had seemed to meld with those from his new one in that setting. "Someone once said that Death is the great equalizer," she had noted. Now, he watched her as she turned the car toward the I-5 with deliberate movements, and knew that she was trying her damnedest to keep busy, to keep focused on finding Steele's murderer- because it was the only thing that was keeping her from breaking into a million pieces. There wasn't anything he could do to stop it from happening. Murphy knew that as well as he knew his own name. All he could do was to be here to try and put the pieces back together again.
***
Laura stopped the car at the broken guard rail. The remains of the car had been moved by the police for inspection, but the area where it had been still showed signs of the inferno that had been released when the gas tank had exploded. Getting out of the car, she stood there, looking at the road, then at the guard rail, and then the road. "Do you see something missing, Murph?" she asked.
He examined the area, frowning. "Tire marks," he said, looking closer at the road surface.
"There aren't any. Which means that the brakes weren't used. It's as if the car were *deliberately* driven through the rail and into the ravine."
"If the brakes failed-"
Laura's hand indicated the road. "Look, Murphy, no brake fluid- nothing. It was a new car. If the brakes failed- then it's because someone *caused* them to fail," she declared. "Someone wanted the car to crash to cover up Remington's murder. He was dead before the car went over that embankment."
"They couldn't have known it would explode that way-"
"True. But they usually do, don't they?"
"Laura, *I've* got a BMW at home," he admitted.
"You do?" She smiled. "He'd never believe that you and he would have chosen the same car," she said.
"That thing's pretty well crash tested. The gas tank would have to take a lot of pounding to be punctured badly enough to explode."
She started down the side of the hill, ignoring the fact that her black high heels weren't the best shoes to be walking in the rocky soil. Murphy followed, wondering if maybe she might really be onto something.
She stopped at the edge of the burned area, and turned in a slow circle, as if doing a survey, then shook her head. "There's still something missing," she sighed, frowning, then stood there, looking at the blackened ground. "I'm right about this, Murphy. Every instinct I have as a detective tells me that I'm right. Remington was killed and whoever did it sent the car over that cliff to cover it up."
"The question is, who killed him?" Murphy asked.
"That's what I'm going to find out," Laura promised, her eyes locked on some distant point. "If it's the last thing I do."
***
Daniel waited impatiently for his suitcase to appear and grabbed it the moment it did, glad now that he'd gone through customs in Hawaii during the layover due to weather in the Pacific. At the time, he'd fretted the delay, since he still wasn't able to reach Laura at any of the numbers that he had for her. And her message at his London number hadn't given any specifics as to what had happened. Even the Earl hadn't been able to give him any hard answers, only that Mildred had called and informed him of Harry's death in an accident.
Now, he started to hail a cab and stopped, seeing a newspaper rack nearby. Putting his case down, he dug out some change and opened the metal box to remove a paper. "Wake- yesterday at Cowan Mortuary," he read, and glanced at his watch. It was nearly eleven. The funeral was scheduled for ten this morning- a graveside service. Further reading gave him the information he needed, and he folded the paper under his arm as he hailed a taxi from the queue.
He pulled the back door open and tossed his suitcase inside before following it. "Los Angeles City Cemetery, please, driver. And hurry." He held out a hundred dollar bill as incentive.
The driver looked at it and put the car into gear, pulling away from the curb. "Be there in twenty minutes."
"Make it ten and you'll get another fifty," Daniel told him, pulling out the promised fifty dollar bill.
***
Murphy still couldn't believe how many people had turned out for Steele's funeral. The mayor, the governor, most of the city council members, the Chief of Police and several uniformed officers were present, former clients, as well as faces from Steele's life before he'd *become* Remington Steele. He'd met Monroe, Steele's old friend from Barbados, now a respected businessman, thanks to Steele's confidence in that friendship and willingness to invest hard cash in a venture. There'd been so many of them that he'd lost track. Veronica Kirk was even there, and for once, she wasn't overacting. They were an eclectic group, he had to admit, glancing at Mildred as she sobbed softly, resting her head on her nephew's shoulder. Even that young man looked ready to cry, Murphy thought, and cleared his own throat of a small lump as he listened to the minister's words.
He wasn't sure why he'd let Laura talk him into doing what he was about to do. He wasn't the right person to give Steele's eulogy. They'd never really been friends. Maybe they might have been- if Laura hadn't gotten in the way. He put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed them, smiling as she rested her head on his shoulder for the briefest second, as if drawing strength from the contact.
"And now, at Miss Holt's request, Murphy Michaels will deliver the eulogy."
Murphy took a deep breath and moved to stand at the head of the flower draped coffin. "Remington Steele- was a very special man to a lot people for different reasons. To some, he was a substitute son," he said, smiling at Mildred's tear-stained face. "To others, he was a trusted partner, a best friend." Laura smiled tightly. "And to others, he was the friend who was always there when he was called on, whether the need be money, or just an ear to listen to problems. He gave generously to many causes, including the arts- Remington loved the movies, especially the older movies. I can still recall, even after being away from him for three years, how he would pull a movie reference out of his hat that would invariably somehow lead to a successful resolution to a case we were working on. During the time I worked with him, we formed a bond of friendship that lasted even after I decided to branch out on my own. He'll be missed by everyone, but mostly by his closest friends and associates. If he were here, I'm sure he'd want them to know that he loved them all and would tell them not to grieve for a life shortened by the violence he fought so hard to overcome, but to rejoice in the fact that he was doing what he wanted to do to, what he was happy doing. Rest in peace, Remington. You'll be missed."
He moved back to Laura's side and felt her hand slip into his as he stood there, looking down at the ground, wondering where all of that had come from. The minister moved back to his spot and began to wind up the service, asking them all to rise.
Daniel barely waited for the taxi to come to a stop at the end of the long line of vehicles, shoving the promised money into the driver's hand and asking him to take his suitcase to the black limousine behind the hearse as he moved swiftly across the street toward the knot of mourners.
He'd never truly realized how accepted Harry had become as Remington Steele. All of these people were here because he'd been respected - loved. He saw a few familiar faces on the edge of the crowd- Monroe Henderson, Thelma- but it was the young woman who stood so stoically beside the flower draped coffin that caught his attention. Mildred was standing beside her, crying inconsolably on a younger man's shoulder. Daniel paused, uncertain about continuing- about whether he *wanted* to continue forward. By doing so, it seemed that he would be forced to accept what he had been trying to deny since he'd seen that headline in Hong Kong- that Harry was indeed dead.
Laura wasn't sure what made her raise her eyes from the coffin. But when she looked up and met Daniel Chalmers' blood shot eyes and poignant expression, she blinked, uncertain that he was really there. She motioned for him to join her, and he moved quietly through the crowd to stand between her and Mildred as the minister began his final prayers. Laura felt him shiver in the warm air, and reached down to grasp his hand, squeezing it, feeling him squeeze back in silent reply. The guests filed by, offering quiet words of sympathy, and then moved on, finally leaving only a small group of people beside the coffin. Abigail, Frances and Donald said that they would see Laura later, and moved off as well, as did Monroe.
Laura and Mildred each gave Daniel a hug. "I was afraid you wouldn't get here," Laura told him. "I left you a message-"
"I got it- but I couldn't seem to find you to return the call."
"How did you know?"
"I was in Hong Kong when I saw a Los Angeles newspaper," he told her, reaching out to touch the flowers on the coffin. "Oh, Harry, my boy," he sighed. "What happened, Laura?" he asked, and she smiled, realizing that he'd finally gotten her name right.
"Why don't we go somewhere else and discuss it, Daniel?" she said.
He nodded, and then said, "If I could have a moment- to say goodbye?"
Laura gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then she moved off with Mildred, Bernard and Murphy toward the limo to give Daniel some privacy. "He really loved Mr. Steele, didn't he, Miss Holt?"
Laura, unable to speak for the lump in her throat, nodded in answer to Mildred's question.
"I have to get back to class," Bernard apologized. "I thought Aunt Mildred could ride with you and Mr. Michaels?"
"Of course." She gave the young man a hug. "Thanks for coming."
He gave Mildred another hug as well as Laura turned her attention back toward Daniel, who was standing there beside the coffin, head bowed. "Murphy, you and Mildred go on to the limo. Daniel and I will catch up in a minute." She waited another moment, and then crossed the grass to join him. "I'm sorry, Daniel. I tried to keep him safe- but-"
He put a hand over hers where it curled around his arm, drawing a deep shuddering breath. "I can't believe he's gone. I just spoke to him last week. He was filled with plans and ideas- you know how he was when he got excited about something-" he saw the ring on her left hand. "He told me about that- but I hadn't thought he'd given it to you yet."
"He hadn't," she admitted. "I found it- in his desk the day after-" she choked back her own tears. "Let's go, Daniel."
"I don't like leaving him here. I looked so long for him, to just leave him here like this-"
Laura frowned at his words. "What are you talking about, Daniel?"
"A man's child shouldn't die before he does," he said softly. "I should have told him. Now-"
"You're his- father?" she asked, and Daniel nodded as a tear escaped from his right eye to roll down his cheek. "Oh, Daniel."
"I don't suppose I'd blame you if you told me to get lost. He would have."
"I don't think so. Not if you explained- you *could* have explained, right? You had a reason for-"
Daniel sighed. "You mentioned something about going somewhere to talk?" he reminded her. "I want to know what happened to my son."
***
While Laura seemed to forgive him, Mildred wasn't quite as ready to overlook Daniel's transgression. "He needed to know who his father was," she said. "And you ever said a word to him."
"Mildred," Laura said in a quiet voice. "Later, okay? I'm sure Daniel will explain everything later. Now's not the time."
Mildred sat back in the seat, her expression uncompromising. Murphy had decided to sit in the front, since he'd never really met Daniel Chalmers before today.
"Thank you, Laura," Daniel said. "I hadn't intended to mention it all. It just- slipped out, I suppose. It's only the second time I've admitted that he was my son in the last twenty odd years."
"The Earl knows, doesn't he?" Laura asked, shaking her head as he nodded.
"I knew something strange was going on when he asked if we'd gotten in touch with you," Mildred said. "He sounded like it was really important that we let you know."
"He and I had a long talk when I turned down his offer of a job as chief of security. He told me about his son, how he'd wished Harry could have been Sean- and I found myself telling him the truth. He was more than a bit put out with me for not telling it to Harry."
"He should have been," Mildred said with a glare at him.
"He truly wished he could have been here-" Daniel assured Laura. "But he couldn't clear his calendar to allow it as such short notice."
"I know. I talked to him yesterday morning."
"Where are we going?" he asked. "Not- Harry's apartment?"
"No. My loft."
"Ah."
***
Daniel watched closely as Murphy Michaels moved to escort Laura up the three flights of stairs, leaving Daniel to accompany a still miffed Mildred. "Young Michaels seems rather fond of Laura," he commented sotto voce as they climbed the stairs well behind the younger couple.
"They're old friends. I'm not sure how she would have managed if he hadn't been here," Mildred admitted. "She needed someone to lean on- although she'd never admit it. I wasn't much help."
"And I wasn't here, either," Daniel said sadly pausing at the second landing. "I'm truly sorry, Mildred," he said. "I know how close you were to Harry. He often told me that you were more like a substitute mother than anything else."
"Sometimes he needed a little mothering," Mildred said. "And I enjoyed it. He and Miss Holt are really all I have- Bernard's got his own mother- and so does Miss Holt, even though they don't always get along. But Mr. Steele- he never really had anyone."
"My fault again," Daniel sighed. "I would have told him, Mildred, but after having spent the first three years after I found him hearing him talk about what he'd do to his father if he ever found him-" he shuddered at the memory. "It kept me awake more than one night."
"But you knew he wanted to find his father," Mildred said. "After London last year-"
"He wasn't looking for me, Mildred. I was his friend, his former mentor. I was content with that. I didn't want to risk losing even that much to his anger once he found out that I'd kept the truth from him all these years."
"He would have gotten over it," Mildred insisted. "Oh, Daniel. He needed you. As his father, not as his friend."
"Mildred?" Laura called over the railing. "Daniel?"
"Coming, my dear," Daniel said, taking Mildred's arm as they continued upward.
Murphy had poured wine for all of them, and once they were seated- with Murphy sitting at Laura's side, Daniel noticed- Laura told Daniel everything she knew about Harry's accident. "But I don't think it was an accident," Laura finished. "In fact, I'm sure someone murdered Remington-"
"Any ideas about who it might be?" Daniel asked, accepting her statement with more ease than anyone had up to now.
"Not a clue," Laura admitted. "Mildred's searched our files, and Lt. Jarvis has confirmed that none of the people we put away are out of prison. So I thought maybe it might be someone from Remington's past. There are still huge gaps of time that I know nothing about-"
"You're asking if Harry made any enemies before he became your Remington Steele?"
"Something like that," Murphy confirmed. "His- profession didn't lend itself to making friends, I would think."
Daniel smiled at the blonde man, aware that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "You'd be surprised how easily Harry could win people over," he said. "He didn't make enemies easily. Rivals, yes. People after the same things he was after-" another glance toward Murphy made his point to the younger man. Daniel rose to his feet, pacing the room as he thought. "Well, the Palermo Brothers are dead- Monica Haddon is in prison, I can't think of anyone off hand who would bear Harry this big a grudge."
"Think, Daniel," Laura begged, "You know more about Remington's past than any of us. You're our only hope of finding out who might have killed him." She sighed as someone knocked on the door.
"I'll get it," volunteered Murphy, rising from his place beside Laura, which gave Daniel the opportunity to take that spot. Murphy slid the door aside to reveal Lt. Jarvis. "Lieutenant."
"Mr. Michaels," Jarvis said, nodding as he entered the loft, looking at Laura. "I'm sorry I missed the funeral, Laura- I was at the lab overseeing some tests on Mr. Steele's car-" he stopped as he realized there was an unfamiliar face in the room.
Laura turned to Daniel. "Lt. James Jarvis, Daniel Chalmers. Remington's father." She smiled at Daniel's quickly hidden surprise at the introduction.
"Lieutenant," Daniel said, shaking the other man's hand as Murphy joined them.
"Mr. -Chalmers." He eyed Daniel curiously, and Laura knew that he was wondering about the difference in last names- and other things as well, most likely.
"Did you find something, Jimmy?" Laura asked, intent on getting the policeman's mind off of the mystery of Daniel Chalmers.
"Maybe. We need to finish a few more tests, but- we *think* there may have been some kind of incendiary device attached to the car that could have been remote detonated."
"To make sure it burned," Murphy said, looking at Laura. "You were right."
"But why was it so important for the car to burn?" Laura wondered. "Wouldn't just letting it go off the road be enough?"
"Not if Steele had been killed in some way that couldn't be explained as a car accident," Jarvis said. "A bullet, poison, something like that."
Laura rose and began to pace the room herself. "What if it was done to hide the fact that it wasn't Remington's body at all?" She suggested.
Jarvis, Murphy, and Mildred all shook their heads as Murphy said, "Laura, I thought we'd settled that. It Steele's body. They found the jewelry-"
"Jewelry?" Daniel asked.
Laura went up into her bedroom and returned with the watch, bracelet and ring, still wrapped in their plastic bag. "These," she told Daniel. "They found them on what was left of the body. Now, what if someone already had another body that was the same general build, and somehow kidnapped Remington, taking his watch, bracelet and ring, and put the body into his car and drove it over that cliff?"
Daniel opened the bag, removing the ring, and Laura noticed that Daniel had a similar one. Funny that she'd never noticed that before, a part of her mind said.
"And then blew it up to hide the fact that it wasn't Steele at all?" Jarvis asked, then shook his head. "It's a long shot, Laura. You've got no proof."
"I'm right, Jimmy," she insisted. "Remington's alive- somewhere. We know that he checked out of his hotel in Bakersfield at six thirty. And he called me at seven- it sounded like he was on a pay phone."
Jarvis nodded. "A gas station. He stopped for gas, asked to use the phone. The clerk remembered him."
"Someone could have kidnapped him then," Laura insisted. "It tracks, doesn't it, Murphy?"
"It might- if we can figure out *who* wanted him badly enough to set this up," Murphy agreed slowly, looking at Daniel.
Jarvis nodded. "You want to exhume the body? Run some more tests?"
"No," Laura said. "Not yet. But if you find out anymore about that bomb that was in his car-"
"I'll let you know. And- you'll let me know before you go off looking for who ever this guy is on your own, right?"
"She won't be on her own," Murphy assured Jarvis. "But she'll be in touch."
Once the door closed behind him, Laura turned to throw her arms around Daniel. "He's alive, Daniel. I'm more sure of it with every minute that passes. He's alive."
"For now," Murphy cautioned, and his eyes locked with Daniel's again.
"Do you really think he's alive, Miss Holt?" Mildred asked, her eyes filled with cautious hope.
"Yes, Mildred. Now, Daniel, it's up to you. We need to know about *anything* Remington might have been involved in that would cause someone to be willing to take this big a chance."
Daniel took a deep breath, closing his fingers around the ring. "Most of the young men he spent time with are either in prison or dead- Did you ask Monroe if he knew anyone?"
"He only knew Remington for a few months," she said. "You said they were in prison. Would they blame him for their being there? What about their families? Father, mother, brothers-"
The signet ring still clenched in his hand, Daniel paced the room again, thinking. "About ten years ago, around the time Harry decided it was time to move on, he struck up a rather curious friendship with another young man who saw himself as a master con artist. Harry was good by then, but he was still learning -" he saw Murphy's knowing expression and pressed on. "They set up a con that I told Harry was a mistake to try, but they nearly pulled it off- they would have, but for the other young man's rather- dreadful habit of beating young women until they were dead."
"Sounds like a nice guy," was Murphy's comment.
"Delightful fellow, according to Harry. He dragged Harry to a pub one evening and chatted up a young barmaid into going with the two of them after she got off work for the night. Apparently she changed her mind and the young man became incensed, started hitting her. Harry tried to stop him, but ended up half conscious, unable to do more than watch as his supposed partner killed the girl."
"What happened?"
"A neighbor heard the commotion and called the police. They were both arrested for killing the girl- and it came out that the young man had been arrested on at least two other occasions for the same thing, but there'd been no witness to testify to his crime."
"This time there was," Laura said. "Harry."
"Exactly. Harry was given the option of sharing his friend's fate or testifying to what he'd seen."
"You know this young man's name?" Murphy asked.
"James Gardner," Daniel recalled.
"Do you know if he's still in prison?"
"Oh, I'm certain of it. He was sent to a privately owned prison in the Pacific- Evergen Prison. Horrid place, by all accounts. Reserved for only the hardest cases, those that can't be redeemed. Their governments pay Evergen's owner to take them off their hands to serve out their life sentence."
"Sounds like Devils' Island," Mildred said, shivering.
"It's very similar from what I've heard, Mildred," Daniel agreed.
"Well, if he's still there, then I guess we're at another dead end," Laura said with a disappointed sigh.
"Not necessarily" Daniel told her. "Gardner's father is Nathaniel Gardner." He looked surprised that they'd never heard of him. "One of the most powerful and wealthiest racketeers in England. He swore to get back at Harry for his part in sending James to prison. I suggested to Harry after the trial that he leave England for awhile, get out of Gardner's bailiwick, as it were."
"How would he have traced Harry back to Mr. Steele?" Mildred wondered. "It's been a long time -"
"Close to fifteen years," Daniel acknowledged. "Harry's face was all over the London papers after he saved the Earl's life last year. It's possible that Gardner saw it and recognized him as Harry." He looked down at the ring as Laura spoke.
"We have to find Gardner-"
"And convince him somehow to tell us where Harry is- if he's even still alive."
"He is," Laura insisted, touching Daniel's hand. "I can feel it." Her gaze fell to the ring and she touched the one on his finger. "You gave it to him, didn't you?"
"It was part of a con we ran years ago," he told her. "We were pretending to be father and son to bilk an old man out of-" He noticed Laura's curious gaze. "Anyway, after the con was finished, Harry kept his on. I never mentioned it to him, but I wore mine as well. It- gave me a connection to him, almost as though he thought of me as his father."
"I think he did. Does," she corrected herself. "We'll find him, Daniel," Laura promised. "Alive."
"I hope you're right, Laura," Daniel said, pulling her into a fatherly embrace, knowing that if she was, he might just lose his son all over again when he found out the truth.
