Remington tossed himself onto his bunk for the second night and allowed himself to relax in the relative safety of the cell. Gabe entered a minute later. They'd already showered and had what passed for supper- tough as shoe leather meat drowned in fatty gravy with lumpy potatoes and what Remington thought might have been some kind of leafy green vegetable. "Didn't have a chance to thank you for earlier," he told his cellmate. James' friends from the laundry had attempted to corner him as they'd come out of the showers while someone else had distracted Gabe. Still buck naked, Remington had found himself pushed up against the hard, cold concrete wall as Prisoner 1390, whose name was Carl, moved closer, grinning. He'd almost made contact before he was pulled away by Gabe. The others had scattered before the guards came to investigate the noise, and Gabe had pulled Remington away from the wall and shoved his clean clothes into his hands.
"No problem. Didn't mean to let myself get sidetracked, but I had to collect on a bet I made. Guy said he could pay me then or not at all."
"What'd you bet on?"
"That Leroy over in Block C would end up spending another day in solitary," Gabe told him. "Won a pack of smokes." He pulled out a cigarette- and this time Remington accepted one. He usually eschewed the habit, but there seemed little else to do in this place.
"So, what sort of business were you in back home?" Gabe asked, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor across the cell.
Remington took a long drag on the cigarette and fought back the cough that was the result. "Been awhile," he explained to Gabe, who was grinning. Even though the other man had been at Evergen for twenty years, he had a feeling that Gabe wouldn't take kindly to knowing that he was world renowned private eye Remington Steele. "Investments."
"Thought you looked like the suit type," Gabe told him. "Bet you had a string of ladies linin' up for your attention," he said with a grin.
"A few," Remington said. "But there was only one that really mattered."
"Tall blonde, I bet."
Remington chuckled and shook his head as he peered through the smoke. "Nope. Stood to about here," he said, putting his hand to just above his chin. "Deep brown eyes that a man could lose himself in. Brown hair with blonde highlights and dimples when she smiles." He sighed, flicking his ashes onto the floor as Gabe was doing. "I was going to ask her to marry me. Had the ring and everything. Not that she would have given me an answer right away."
"Dragging her feet?"
"For the last four years," he nodded. "Independent sort, my Laura. But that's one of the things I love about her. I'd never be comfortable with a clinging vine."
"Secretary?" Gabe asked.
"Business partner," Remington answered. "She's forgotten more than I'll ever learn about the business."
A guard came by on each side of the common way, clanging cell doors shut and locking them. Remington wondered if he'd be able to forget that sound if he did manage to escape from this place somehow.
Gabe rose from the floor, tossing his cigarette into a can in the corner before stripping out of his clothes. As he levered himself up onto the top bunk, the lights went dark throughout the cell block. "Night, Johnny."
"Night, Gabe," Remington said, putting his own cigarette out before removing his own clothing and folding them neatly to lay at the end of his bed. He drew the rough blanket over himself and lay there in the darkness, hands under his head, wondering what Laura was doing at this moment. Was she trying to find him, or did she think he'd just disappeared like he had last year? Had she found the ring hidden in his desk drawer and understood its meaning? If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear her voice, telling him, "You're the King of the Cons. Figure a way *out* of this mess!"
"I'm trying, Laura," he whispered. "I'm trying."
***
He was awakened early the next morning by a sound he couldn't quite identify at first. "What was that?" he asked aloud.
"Sounded like a plane," Gabe answered sleepily. "Probably bringin' in another prisoner-"
"Or James' father," Remington suggested in a voice that didn't carry any further than the bunk.
"Ain't nothing you can do about it right now if it is," Gabe told him. "Might as well get some more sleep."
The springs in the upper bunk squeaked in protest as Gabe turned over to do just that. But Remington was wide awake, and his eyes were glued to the corridor- and James' cell across the common area. If Gardner Sr. was here, it didn't mean anything good.
***
Daniel peered out of the windows at the poorly lit tarmac, watching the ancient jeep pull closer to the aircraft. He glanced over at Laura, who was wearing an impossibly short leather skirt, low cut, tight blouse, knee high suede boots, and more make up than he could ever recall seeing her wear. He next looked at Murphy. With his blonde hair slicked back, making it look darker, and the dark sunglasses covering his blue eyes, he had managed to change from a harmless boy next door into someone who just might be regarded as dangerous. He was fastening a shoulder holster over his white shirt. He checked and stowed his weapon, and then picked up the dark jacket that completed the outfit. Off the rack, Daniel thought, but from a decent shop, no doubt. He'd do, Daniel decided, watching as he placed the final item into the pocket of that jacket. "Keep that close, Murphy. It's our plan B."
"Don't worry. I won't anything happen to it."
With a sigh, Daniel picked up the leather briefcase beside his seat and said, "Open the door, Murphy. It's show time." He held out his arm to Laura. "Shall we, my dear?"
She slipped her arm through his, shaking back her chestnut hair. "Let's get this show on the road, Big-Daddy," she told him with a smile that caused even Daniel's pulse rate to increase slightly. No wonder Harry and Murphy had fallen for the lady.
Murphy stood there as the gangway was pushed up to the airplane, then followed Daniel and Laura down the steps, hiding his smile behind a sneer at the Warden and his men's reaction to seeing Laura. The glasses were hell to see in with it still so early. He glanced once at the eastern horizon, seeing a pinkish glow beginning. The sun would be up soon enough. He came to a stop as the Warden, a small, overweight little man wearing an ostentatious uniform befitting his position, and carrying a riding crop, approached the end of the gangway, his expression uncertain.
"Mr. Winston. I'm Warden Jenks." His beady little eyes kept sliding over to the expanse of cleavage revealed by Laura's tight sweater and padded bra. Murphy thought he detected beads of sweat on the old man's upper lip and forehead.
"Pleasure to meet you, Warden," Daniel said. "Shall we go?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Winston, but your- lady friend will have to stay on the airplane. This is a prison. An all male prison. There are no women allowed on the island."
Laura ran her fingers over Daniel's arm pouting slightly. "You're not going to make me stay on that old plane, are you, Leland? I won't be very happy if you do- and you know that when I'm not happy-"
"Of course not, Tracy, my dear," Daniel assured her smoothly, patting her hand. "I'm quite sure the Warden and I can come to some kind arrangement. If not, I'll simply return home and tell your father that he'll just have to look elsewhere-"
Jenks' eyes widened as he realized the implications of Daniel's words. "Her- father?"
Daniel nodded, and the warden swallowed heavily. "Apple of her father's eye," he confirmed.
That turned Jenks' attention to Murphy, who was standing just to Daniel's right hand. "And you are-?"
"Bruno," Daniel said. "Bodyguard. My employer insisted on his accompanying us as a precaution."
"Then- he's armed?"
"Isn't a bodyguard supposed to be?" Daniel asked.
Jenks nodded, as if he'd reconsidered what he had been about to say. He turned to a guard. "Captain, call for another jeep to transport Mr. Winston and his party." The Captain of the guard moved away as he lifted a radio to his mouth. "I must ask that you not wander away on your own. Evergen has no fences or walls to keep prisoners inside."
"You wouldn't need one with all that water out there," Laura noted. "Has anyone ever escaped from your prison, Mr. Jenks?" she asked, blinking her eyes in his direction.
"Uh, umm, uh, no. Never, Miss-"
"Just call me Tracy," she purred, reaching out to touch his arm with a gentle caress.
Jenks swallowed again, and Murphy bit back a warning to Laura. She could take care of herself, he reminded himself, focusing on the second jeep that appeared through the jungle. "Ah, here we are," he said, seeming eager to put some distance between himself and the woman at Daniel's side.
Jenks suggested that he take the first jeep, leaving Daniel, and Murphy to climb into the back of the second jeep, after Murphy assisted Laura into the front seat beside the driver. He saw the man's eyes slide over to inspect the length of leg revealed by Laura's short skirt, and then leapt into the back of the vehicle beside Daniel as the jeep set off down the unpaved roadway.
Jenks led the trio into his office in the more brightly lit prison compound, and pulled out a chair for Laura. Murphy remained standing behind she and Daniel's chairs, giving every appearance of a hired killer. It gave Laura chills- or would have, if she hadn't known that Murphy was a pussycat. She was enjoying her little act. It wasn't often that she had a chance to cut loose this way- and regretted that Remington wasn't here to see it. She crossed her legs, showing them to full advantage in the suede boots she was wearing, and ran her finger around the top of the sweater. "It's hot in here," she sighed. "Don't you think it's hot in here, Mr. Jenks?"
"Warden Jenks, Tracy dear," Daniel corrected gently, saving the man from having to answer her query. "Are you ready to discuss business, Warden?" Daniel asked.
Jenks tore his eyes away from Laura and nodded. "Uh. Yes. I believe you mentioned something about your employer needing a place where he could send people-?"
"Yes. He's a very high profile gentleman with a great many enemies that he would like to have simply- disappear. I'm sure they could be brought here using falsified identification and incarcerated."
Jenks looked uncertain. "I don't normally do that kind of thing, Mr. Winston. I know my predecessor often took political prisoners- but it's a very risky thing to do. Housing these prisoners takes a great of money-"
"As I mentioned during our telephone conversation, money is no object to my employer-" a bell began to ring, startling Laura and Daniel- Murphy never moved a muscle.
"What was that?" Laura asked.
"Just the wake up bell, Miss- Tracy," Jenks informed her. "They have fifteen minutes in which to dress and be ready for morning formation in the courtyard." He nodded beyond the window behind them. The bell will ring again in a few minutes as a second warning."
"How many prisoners do you have here at any one time?" Daniel asked, appearing unruffled and collected once more.
"Our population was once as large as five hundred- but it's dropped to merely three hundred now. Too many countries are having trouble getting 'approval' to send prisoners here. The people who want to pamper prisoners and sent them into a country club atmosphere say that I'm too harsh on the men. But these men are the dregs of humanity. All of them have committed heinous acts against humanity on more than one occasion."
"So are you willing to take my employer's business, Warden?" Daniel asked. "If not, we'll go-" he started to rise from his chair, but Jenks rose as well, putting out a hand to stop him.
"Wait. I didn't say that. I-I have taken such prisoners before from- others. One just recently, in fact. How much did your employer have in mind as compensation for prisoner up keep per prisoner?"
"How much did your last customer pay you for the service?" Daniel asked. Jenks named a figure. "I think my employer could go better than that. Nearly twice that, actually."
Jenks' eyes opened wide at his words as the second bell rang. There was a knock on the door, and he rose from his chair. "Enter."
The Captain opened the door. "The prisoners are gathering in the yard, Warden."
Jenks nodded and picked up his riding crop. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Make yourselves at home. We have a great deal more to discuss."
Daniel nodded as Jenks left the office. The moment the door closed, Laura was out of her chair and pulling open the top drawer of the file cabinet beside the window that overlooked the yard. "Laura, what are you doing?" Daniel asked.
"Seeing if there's anything in his files about Remington or Nathaniel Gardner," she told him. "He said to make ourselves at home, didn't he?" Suddenly she went still, her eyes on the small area she could see through the slatted blinds.
"What's wrong, Laura?" Murphy asked.
She reached toward the window, lifting one of the slats to give her a better view. "He's out there."
"Who?"
"Harry." Daniel realized, joining Laura at the window to look over the men. They were indeed a motley assortment. Most were piteously thin, and he wondered for a moment what passed for rations in this hell-hole. "Where?"
"There," she said, pointing toward the nearest end of the second line. "About three in."
It was indeed Harry. He looked a bit haggard and pale, but otherwise unscathed from his adventure. "Thank God," Daniel breathed. "He's alive." Until this moment, there had been a fear in Daniel's mind that Gardner had killed Harry.
"We have guests today," they could hear Jenks telling his men as he tapped the riding crop against his leg in a nervous gesture. "If you see them, you will lower your eyes and will not speak to them without permission. One infraction of this rule and you will find yourself in solitary confinement for no less than twenty four hours. You're dismissed."
Remington could feel someone watching him, and scanned the area without moving his head. The blinds in the Warden's office moved slightly, and then fell back into place as the Warden turned toward that building. Gabe slapped his shoulder. "See you later, mate," the big man said. "Stay safe."
"I plan to," Remington replied, looking at the office again as Jenks vanished into the interior.
***
Laura was again seated in the chair, a look of extreme boredom on her face when Jenks returned. Murphy gave all appearances of not having moved from his previous location, and Daniel thought to himself that it was too bad that both of them had chosen that side of the street to work. Even Murphy might have made a passable con-man with the proper training. "Forgive the interruption," Jenks apologized as he returned to his chair. "Where were we?"
Daniel lifted the briefcase and placed it on the desk between himself and the little man, opening the locks to lift the lid. "My employer wanted you to have this- as good faith money," he said, turning the case around so that Jenks could see the money inside. It was all counterfeit, of course, and the bottom two layers were simply bundles of newsprint- but Daniel didn't plan on giving Jenks a chance to find that out. Jenks' eyes widened again, and he started to reach for the money- only to pull it back quickly as Daniel closed the case to prevent it. "Of course- he did also request that we be given a thorough tour of the prison so that I could make a complete report to him upon my return."
Jenks looked as if he might refuse- then his eyes locked on the briefcase again. "Very well. But I must insist that you all stay with me and the Captain and not speak to the prisoners without permission."
"Of course. Discipline must be maintained," Daniel agreed in an understanding tone. He lifted the case from the desk. "I'll just hold onto this until we're finished- for safekeeping," he said. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to it, would we? Shall we go?"
***
Remington kept one part of his mind on the steam iron and the other focused on what Carl and his friends were up to down the line. So far, all they had done was grin licentiously at him a few times, but none of them had approached him about the incident in the shower the previous evening. James was pacing the laundry facility, keeping a watchful eye on everything- as were the guards. There seemed to be more guards, Remington noticed. That probably meant something was up. Something to do with the guests Jenks had mentioned, most likely.
Had to be someone important, he figured, to tighten security this much, he noted as he spotted yet another guard. There was an added advantage as well- Carl and his friends weren't going to bother him with so many guards around. He saw James move over to a guard and speak to the man, whose name Remington thought might be Garcia. Garcia nodded toward the front of the building as James frowned.
"Get to work, everyone!" Garcia yelled. "Eyes down as you were instructed!" James moved swiftly around the corner, out of sight of the ironing line, and Remington quickly lowered his gaze to his work. He'd seen Garcia take another prisoner down with the butt of his rifle yesterday just for speaking to him without permission. According to what he'd overheard this morning, the prisoner was still in the prison infirmary with a cracked skull- and Garcia was on report. For all the good that would do, considering that the bulky Mexican was still on the job.
***
Laura felt every eye in the place turn her direction the moment she entered the prison laundry. She resisted the urge to pull her skirt down and instead ran a finger just under the top of her sweater as she had in Jenks' office. "It's really hot in here," she commented. "And look at all of these sweaty bodies… Oooh," she moaned.
"Tracy," Daniel said, a hint of warning that she shouldn't overplay the part.
"I must ask you, Miss Tracy to-"
"I was only making an observation," Laura told them, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
Jenks indicated a thin man with blonde hair and dark eyes, wearing the blue shirt and denim jeans of an inmate. "Prisoner 3568 is one of our trustees," he informed them. "He's in charge of the laundry facility."
The man nodded, narrowing his eyes in Daniel's direction, then at Laura. His expression became carefully controlled, and Laura wondered why. From the description of James Gardner in the fifteen year old news clippings that Mildred had pulled up, any of these men could be him. But the man before them fit the description to a "t"- besides being a few pounds thinner and fifteen years older. She glanced at Daniel to see him watching the trustee closely as well. Laura moved to take the man's arm, ignoring the gasps that emanated from Jenks and the guards at her bold move. "Hello, 3568," she said in a breathy voice, tracing the numbers on the shirt. "Do you have a name, or just a number?"
The man glanced at Jenks, who nodded once, granting permission. "J-James," he told her.
"What a nice name. I had a boyfriend named James once. Course, he preferred Jimmy. Daddy hated him," she told Jenks. "He was a-"
"Tracy," Daniel sighed, and she lifted her shoulders, noticing that James' dark eyes moved to her chest for the briefest of seconds. "Shall we continue with the tour, Warden?" Daniel suggested, shooting Laura a warning glance.
The other prisoners all tried to pretend that they weren't looking at Laura as she swayed through the busy room, but they were. She could feel their eyes on her. It gave her a sense of power to know that she was the center of all their attention. Jenks was talking about the laundry, about how many uniforms the prisoners could wash, iron and fold in a day, creating a drone against the noise of the machinery, punctuated by the sound of steam escaping.
Remington removed the shirt he'd just ironed from the table and started to fold it as the Warden came around the corner with his guests. He kept his eyes down, a good idea, he thought, since Garcia had taken up a position close by. His only glance was at the guard, only to discover that Garcia wasn't watching the prisoners, but the group with James and the Warden.
Daniel saw him first as they came around the corner and upon the line of steam tables. His head was down at first, as he attended to folding a freshly ironed shirt. Then, he glanced back at the guard to his left. *Come on Harry,* he thought. *Lift your eyes. Don't let them do to you what Brixton couldn't.* He cut his eyes toward Laura, then Murphy, as if to verify that they had seen him as well.
"Hmm," Laura sighed over the noise of the steam. "I must say, Warden, you've got a wonderful collection of men gathered here. All shapes, sizes. Blondes-" she ran her fingers over James' arm- "Even tall, dark and handsome."
Remington forced himself not to react strongly to hearing that voice as he finally risked looking in that direction. He did allow himself an appreciative grin, however, at Laura's attire before he glanced at Daniel- and was that Murphy behind those dark glasses and obviously packing a gun under his dark jacket? He quickly returned his gaze to his work, picking up another shirt to iron from the basket, then glanced again at Laura, knowing that it would be expected- since Jenks wasn't ordering the guards to put them all in solitary for violating his edict.
"I'd like to take some of them home with me," Laura told Jenks. "It's like a- supermarket for men," she said.
"These men wouldn't be anything you want, Miss Tracy," Jenks assured her. "James- tell Miss Tracy why you're here."
"I- killed a few women," he admitted, almost stammering in her presence.
"Really?" She turned her attention to Remington, ignoring Jenks' attempt to prevent her moving in that direction. She stood there, watching as he worked, and put a hand on his denim encased buttock. As he opened the steam table, she turned to lean against it, tracing the numbers on his chest as she had James', her brown eyes meeting his blue ones. "And - 4079 - why are you here?" she asked.
Remington jumped slightly at her touch, and glanced over at Jenks for permission to speak. The Warden's eyes narrowed in warning, but he nodded, ignoring James' concerned glance. Remington gave Laura a smiled. "I'm sure that the Warden will be glad to tell you why I'm here," he replied.
Laura looked at Jenks. "I'm- not at liberty to say at the moment," Jenks informed her.
"I see," she said with a disappointed frown as she looked at Remington again. "And- do *you* have a name?" she asked.
"Johnny," he said, tugging at the shirt sleeve that was trapped between her leather-clad derriere and the table. "Excuse me?"
"No, excuse me," she sighed, stepping slightly away. "Such a waste," she said to James as she took his arm again.
"Shall we- continue with the tour?" Jenks asked, leading them further into the building.
***
Remington returned to his work, but he didn't feel quite as downhearted as before. They knew where he was- and now they just had to come up with a plan to get him out of the place. Between Laura and Daniel, he had no doubt that they'd find a way.
To Be Continued---
