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Steele In Pursuit
Part 3

Mildred was already at her desk when they arrived the next morning. Steele had called her after their return from the morgue the previous evening to fill her in and to ask her to put a rush on the information on Thomas Holt. Seeing them now, she held out a folder toward Laura.

"I got as much as I could, Mrs. Steele," she said. "I've got more coming, I think. I found several murders of important people in LA from fourteen years ago and then cross checked any that were connected. -"

Laura glanced through the file as Steele opened the newspaper he'd picked up downstairs. "And you came up with this?" she asked the woman. "What time did you get here this morning, Mildred?"

"Around six, I guess," Mildred told her. "Mr. Steele said it was important that we find out as much as we could -"

"I think you'd better call Frances, Laura," Steele told her.

She sighed deeply. "I thought we had already settled this-"

He held out the paper for her to read the article that had caught his attention. "I meant before *she* calls you."

At the bottom of the front page was a headline. "Local P.I.'s Father Killed by Hit & Run Driver, Police Have No Leads," Laura read, her voice shaking. "Police have no leads in the hit and run death of Thomas Holt, father of Laura Holt Steele. The accident occurred around six-thirty yesterday evening on Rossmore between Clark and Davis streets. Mrs. Steele, wife of internationally known detective Remington Steele, and a Private Investigator in her own right, was called by the police to identify the body. -" She scanned the rest of the article. "I *do* need to call Frances -" she was saying as the telephone rang.

"Remington Steele Investigations," Mildred answered, then glanced at Laura. "Yes, she is. Just a moment." Pressing the "hold" button, she said, "It's your sister, Mrs. Steele."

"I'll- take it in my office," she decided, moving in that direction as the second line rang.

"Remington Steele- no, she's not available," Mildred responded. "Just a moment." Laura's office door closed and she told Steele, "It's a reporter. Says he wants a comment about Thomas Holt's death."

Steele held out his hand and took the phone. "No comment." He hung up the phone, looking at Mildred. "Until you hear otherwise- that's the only response those vultures get."

"Gotcha, Chief." She nodded toward the closed door. "How's she taking it?"

"I don't think it's fully sunk in yet. You know Laura. She'll work herself into a frenzy to solve this case before anything else."

Mildred saw his concerned look toward the office. "Why don't you go on in there? She might need some moral support, considering who she's talking to."

"The real moral support's going to be needed when her mother finds out what's happened," he told Mildred, turning toward Laura's door. He tapped once before entering to find her sitting in her chair, the phone in her hand.

"I know, Frances. It was as much a shock to me - No, I've no idea why he came back. Yes, he tried to explain a little of it- and I think I understand why he left - but- I don't have time right now, Frances. I'm in the middle of a case - Of *course* I am. But- things don't just *stop* because -" She closed her eyes, and Steele came around to rub her shoulders lightly. "No, Frances. I haven't called her yet. I'd appreciate it. No, I have no idea- I hadn't thought that far ahead - All right. Let me know the details- No, as soon as possible, I should think. I will. Good bye." She hung up, then placed a hand over one of his on her shoulder. "She asked me to tell you hello."

"How did she take the news?"

"She was surprised, of course. I didn't tell her everything. I think the less she knows the better -"

"You might be right. I take it she's going to call your mother?"

"She offered. She's also going to take care of the arrangements for the - the funeral." Taking a deep breath, she turned her attention to the folder on her desk. "According to the information that Mildred found, there were six deaths of important people in LA in the year before Daddy left. All of them were covered by insurance sold to them by him. Two were accidents- no question. The other two were totally unrelated."

"And the other two?"

"Killed by an unknown assailant, shot through the heart with a large caliber weapon. The only witness to the first murder was the man's insurance agent, one Thomas Holt."

"We know the police arrested someone for hiring the murders," Steele reminded her. She nodded as the telephone rang. "Let Mildred get it," he said. "If it's important, she'll let us know. Why don't we move into my office?"

Still reading the file, Laura went through the door he opened for her. "The two dead men were City Councilmen, one of which had been rumored to be planning a run for mayor in the next election. Mitchell Hargrave and Henry Logan." She sat down in the conference area. "Thomas Holt was unable to identify the killer in Hargrave's murder, and was asked to testify when they arrested local entrepreneur Craig Malcolm for ordering the two deaths. Holt provided insurance to all three men, and was witness to a meeting between them a month before Hargrave was killed before Holt's eyes."

"Craig Malcolm?" Steele repeated.

"You know the name?"

"I should think everyone in Los Angeles knows who Malcolm is, Laura. Your father talked about 'movers and shakers', well, Malcolm is top of the list."

"I've never-"

"Do you remember the gathering at City Hall last month, Laura? When the mayor announced his decision to run for re-election?"

"Yes," she told him. She'd only gone because the Mayor had specifically asked them to attend the dinner.

"Do you recall the man who stayed just behind the mayor? Short, dark, had a mustache?"

"He looked like a bodyguard," Laura recalled. "More than a little frightening."

"*That* was Craig Malcolm." There was a knock on the door before it opened.

"Excuse me, -"

"Yes, Mildred?"

"Lt. Jarvis is-"

"Here," Jarvis finished, pushing past Mildred. "Thanks, Mildred."

"Miss Krebbs," she corrected, remaining by the door until the telephone rang again. "I got it," she announced, returning to her desk.

"Lt. Jarvis," Steele said, moving to take the man's hand, giving Laura a moment to put the papers she'd been looking at away.

Laura closed the file and held it close to her, hoping that Jarvis wouldn't see the name on it before rising to join Steele. "How are you doing this morning, Laura?"

"I'll be fine once we find out who killed my father," she told him. "Do you have any leads?"

"We found the car," he told her.

"When?" Steele asked, moving to sit behind his desk.

"About two hours ago. It was parked six blocks from where Mr. Holt was killed."

"Who did it belong to?" Laura wanted to know. "And what about prints?"

"It was reported stolen yesterday afternoon," Jarvis explained. "And it was clean. No prints except for the owner's."

"Then it *wasn't* just kids joy riding," Laura pointed out.

"You don't know that, Laura," Jarvis insisted.

"Come *on*, Jarvis! How many kids do you know that would think to stop and wipe their prints after something like that? My father was deliberately murdered!" Steele caught her eye in silent warning.

"You sound pretty sure of that. Almost like you have some information that I don't have."

Laura forced herself to calm down. "I just - an accident just doesn't track, that's all."

Jarvis looked at her. "I did some checking on your father after the two of you left last night. How much do you know about why he left Los Angeles fourteen years ago?"

Laura sat on the edge of Steele's desk. "Not much. As I said, he didn't go into detail."

"That's why we invited him to dinner last night, Jarvis," Steele pointed out. "What have you learned?"

The homicide detective took out a notepad and referred to it. "Mr. Holt was an insurance salesman, am I right?"

"Yes."

"He clients were the upper echelon of Los Angeles society. People with money, power. Six months before he left, he went for a meeting with a city councilman, a Mitchell Hargrave. When he arrived, he found Hargrave, another councilman, Henry Logan, and a local businessman, Craig Malcolm."

"Craig Malcolm. The same-"

"The same Craig Malcolm that's running our *current* mayor's reelection campaign," Jarvis confirmed.

"What does this have to do with why my father was killed, Jarvis?" Laura asked.

"I'm getting to that, Laura. To make a long story short, both Hargrave and Logan wound up dead within a few months of each other, killed by a hired assassin. Your father was the only witness to Hargrave's murder and most likely *saw* the killer. But he refused to identify the man - and when Malcolm was arrested and charged with contracting for the murders a few months later, it would have been your father's testimony that tied him to both men. But your father refused to testify. Instead, he left town. Vanished completely for fourteen years. I think it's very strange that he should have been killed on the day he decides to return to Los Angeles."

"But why would he have run? He didn't have anything to do with the murders- "

"No, but the police reports of the time say that they believe that the lives of his wife and daughters had been threatened, and Holt didn't trust the police to keep them safe." Jarvis looked at her. "You already knew this, didn't you?"

"Does it really matter?" she asked.

"Yes, it does. If it the person who killed those two men knows that you spoke to your father before his death, then you're a target. He won't risk your telling anyone who he is or identifying him."

"I don't *know* who he is," Laura told him. "I don't know anything more than you do."

There was a commotion outside, and the door opened as Mildred said, "I *told* you, you can't go in there!"

"Look, all I want is to ask-" the man was saying as he tried to push past Mildred's arm.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Steele," Mildred apologized. "This clown just barged in, wouldn't take no for an answer-"

Steele came forward. "May I help you?"

"Reeves, from the Times," he said, identifying himself as the writer of the article in the newspaper. "I have a few questions about Thomas Holt's death-"

"No comment," Steele said, taking the man's arm. "Now, if that's all-"

Reeves looked back at Laura. "That go for you too, Mrs. Steele?"

"No comment," Laura repeated firmly, lifting her chin as she spoke.

Steele saw the man out, then returned. "Nosy buggers," he commented, going to Laura. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Jarvis, how did the newspaper get wind of this so quickly?"

"You know how it is, Laura. There are reporters all over the place down there. But I refused to speak with Reeves last night when he was there asking questions about the murder. Just told him we had no leads, nothing else."

"Then how did he know that Laura identified the body?"

"He saw the two of you leaving, then talked to Howie at the morgue. I've already warned him about doing something like that again."

Laura looked thoughtful. "Is there a way we can work together on this, Jarvis?" she asked. "Share information?"

"I don't know, Laura. This could get messy-"

"I'm *used* to messy," she said. "He was my *father*, Jarvis. Besides, how will it look if the Remington Steele Agency *doesn't* help bring in my father's killer?"

"Thing is, Laura, that you and Steele might have to be the *only* ones to bring him in."

Steele frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I was going to tell you before Reeves interrupted- I'm already getting some heat from upstairs to close case as quickly as possible."

"Heat from upstairs?" Laura repeated. "Such as from the Mayor's office?"

"This came from my Captain. Not sure how much higher he got it from. They want it labeled an accident and shifted to traffic, out of my reach."

"Then you do that, Jarvis," Laura said.

"Laura-"

"What are you-"

She faced the two men. "Because they can't stop *me* from investigating it."

"They could threaten to pull your license," Jarvis reminded her. "Or they could threaten you the way your father was threatened."

"I'm *not* my father. I don't scare easily, Jarvis. Close the case."

Jarvis looked at Steele. "Can't you talk any sense into her? She's setting herself up as a target-"

Steele shrugged. "She knows what she's doing, Jarvis," he assured the policeman with more certainty than he felt. "And I've learned the hard way not to argue with her once she's made up her mind to do something. Rather like running head first into a brick wall."

Jarvis took a deep breath, then turned toward the door. "Keep me informed, okay? And don't do anything crazy. I'll do whatever I can to help - off the record."

*********

That afternoon, Laura Holt Steele called a press conference in the offices of Remington Steele Investigations. Most of the local media attended the event, called to give her response to the determination by the LAPD that Thomas Holt's death had been the result of an accident.

Laura faced the cameras bravely, Steele at her side. "Yesterday evening, my father, Thomas Holt, was killed by an unknown assailant as he attempted to cross a city street. Witnesses- now ignored by the police department, have said that the car that killed him drove directly for him with no attempts to stop. Yet the police have decided that my father's death was an accident, the result of teenagers joy riding in a stolen car and now too frightened to come forward to admit the truth. I don't believe that. My father was murdered in cold blood by the same person who forced him to leave Los Angeles fourteen years ago. And I intend to prove it."

"Do you know the name of this person, Mrs. Steele?" a reporter asked.

**********

Across town, a man watched the local newscast on television and picked up the telephone. "You watching the news?" he asked the person who answered the other end. "Channel six. Holt's daughter might be a problem. No, I don't think we need to go that far yet. Surely there's a way to make her re-think her position. . . . Well, if she doesn't, then we'll just have to play a little rough, won't we?" He listened to the other end of the line, his frown deepening. "Listen. You're in this as deeply as I am. They get me, then they'll get you too. I want Laura Holt Steele taken care of. And quickly. There's a *lot* more at stake here now than there was then."

To Be Continued. . . . .


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