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Remington looked around as he and
Laura returned to the office, his wary gaze half expecting to
find someone come to escort him to the airport - or to spill the
beans to Laura. But there was only Mildred, who looked at them
both with open curiosity.
"What did you get out of Grumby?" she asked.
"He wasn't there," Laura told her.
"Any calls, Mildred?"
"Lt. Jarvis called, said he was going to go home and get
some sleep. Oh, and Frances called you, Mrs. Steele - something
about Friday night after the rehearsal."
The "girls night out" as Frances had called it, Laura
realized. Frances' version of a bachelorette party. "I'll
call her later," Laura decided, concerned about Harry's lack
of response to the message. "Any one else?"
"Nothing from- Estelle Becker?"
"It's been quiet, Chief." She picked up the telephone,
her fingers hovering over the buttons. "You want me to get
her on the phone for you?"
"No," he said quickly, hanging up the telephone, trying
to avoid her confused gaze. "That's all right. I'm sure she'll
call as soon as she has something. No need to bother her."
He turned toward his office. "I need to make some other calls,"
he told Laura.
She watched him go with worried eyes, turning back as Mildred
spoke. "Is something wrong, Mrs. Steele?"
"We found Estelle Becker's telephone number in Grumby's office,
Mildred," she explained. "He might have gone to cause
trouble."
"What trouble can he cause?" Mildred asked, forgetting
for a moment that Mrs. Steele didn't know the truth about that
first wedding. When Laura hesitated, Mildred frowned with concern.
"Look, Mrs. Steele, I know I asked this before - and Mr.
Steele gave me a pretty sketchy answer, but - was there some kind
of , well, *problem* with that ceremony on the fishing boat?"
Mildred knew the truth, but she was curious about exactly *what*
Mrs. Steele knew.
"Mildred, the less you know, the better."
"There *is* something. I knew it. The way you two have been
acting, worrying that Immigration could cause trouble - "
"Mildred-"
The older woman gave Laura her patented look that was a holdover
from her days with the IRS fraud squad, a look designed to quell
the staunchest denials. "Spill it, Mrs. Steele."
"I thought Harry told you this." When Mildred's expression
didn't change, Laura sighed and began to tell her the entire story.
**********
Tony sat down on the park bench, pretending an interest in the
fountain's display. "How'd it go?" he asked the man
sitting on the other end of the bench, ostensibly reading a newspaper.
"She was upset - I don't think she liked the idea that she
let Steele's so-called charm get in the way of her professionalism."
"She say what she was going to do?"
"She was on the telephone, requesting a deportation order
when I left."
Tony smiled, sitting back and relaxing. "Good."
"I been thinking, Roselli, maybe I've been wrong - I mean,
I'm an old man, probably need to think about closing up shop ,
going somewhere else --"
Tony was alert again. "Uh-uh. You're not gonna back out on
me, Max. Not now. Besides, the hard part's done. Within twenty
four hours, Steele will be gone, and your competition will be
as well."
"Twenty four hours?"
"I don't think Becker will let it go any longer than that,
not now that she knows that she was conned."
"Steele will be gone- but what's to stop her from going with
him?" he asked, sliding a sideways glance at the younger
man. Tony's gaze narrowed dangerously.
"Because I won't let her." He sat forward. "I'd
lay low for awhile if I were you, Max. Once Steele finds out what's
happened, he'll be looking for you."
"Me? Why me? I would think he'd be gunning for you, Roselli."
"Did I say I was going to march into his office? Not on your
life. Go home, Max. But keep away from Steele. Of course, there's
not much he can do now," he said with a smile, rising to
his feet. "See you Max. Thanks for your help."
Max took a deep breath, folded his paper, and stared into the
fountain with troubled eyes. Roselli was a snake - *And what does
that make you, Max?* he asked himself. *You started all this.
Two people dead, two more people about to be terribly hurt - and
for what? So you could prove what a hotshot PI you are? Was it
worth it?* He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, burying his
face in his hands. And how was he going to make it right again?
**********
"So you see why this could be a problem, Mildred," Laura
said.
"*Could* be, Mrs. Steele- I mean, Miss Holt? It *is* a problem."
Mildred hoped she wasn't overplaying it. Until Mr. Steele decided
to tell her the truth about the first wedding, she'd promised
him not to say anything. A big one. Don't you understand that
you defrauded U. S. Government? At the very least you could lose
your license," Mildred pointed out. "You *could* wind
up in jail for while - "
"I thought of all that when I agreed to do this, Mildred,"
Laura said. "I knew the risks - And if Estelle Becker calls,
I'm going to make sure she knows that the whole thing was my idea
-"
"You're not going to any such thing," Remington objected
as he came from his office. "You're going to stay out of
this. I'll talk to her, tell her that you didn't know that the
marriage wasn't real- "
"She won't believe that," Laura insisted. "She'll
know that I was fully aware of what was going on- because I'm
going to tell her -"
"Laura, I'm trying to protect your future -" *As well
as keep you from finding out the truth just now*, he thought,
knowing that if Estelle *did* contact them about Grumby's visit,
it would be better if he spoke to her alone.
"I don't *need* your protection," she said hotly. "What
I need is for you to be here, not in England or Ireland. *Or*
a jail cell somewhere." When he frowned, she sighed. "You
haven't considered that once you're back in England, the authorities
might start digging and find out that you're probably wanted by
police in other places?"
"That's not very likely to happen, Laura," he told her.
"For once, will you please just do as I ask?" he pleaded
softly. "If Estelle calls, let me tell her -"
"Tell me what, Remington?" Laura, Remington and Mildred
all turned toward the door. Estelle Becker, INS agent, stood there.
"I decided not to call," she told them. "There
are times when things have to be settled in person." She
nodded at Mildred. "Mildred."
"Estelle." Mildred's nervous gaze moved from the woman
to her employers.
"I think we need to talk, Laura, Remington."
"There's no reason for Laura to-" he began, ignoring
Laura's glare.
"But she's as much a part of this as you are," Estelle
pointed out.
"She's right, darling," Laura agreed. "Why don't
we go into Remington's office?" she said, indicating that
Estelle should lead the way. Remington caught Mildred's gaze,
seeing the reminder that he *should* have told Laura the truth
before now. He sighed and turned to follow the women, feeling
as if he were going to his own funeral.
In Remington's office, Estelle took the chair that he offered,
placing her briefcase on the table before her. "Did you find
out anything about Phillipe du Pres?" he asked.
"First things first. I had a very interesting visit from
someone this afternoon . He gave me some information about your
first marriage -"
"Really?" Laura asked. "What kind of information?"
"This man claimed that Juan Cortez wasn't able to perform
a legal marriage ceremony - that the two of you conned me into
thinking that the marriage was real so that Remington wouldn't
be deported. It was a very convincing story - and for a few minutes,
I was tempted to believe it - even started drawing up a new deportation
order for you, Remington -"
Remington smiled nervously. "Really?"
"Did something change your mind?" Laura questioned,
sensing Remington's nervousness, but laying its cause at his fear
of being deported.
"Two things, really. I went to see Juan Cortez, confirmed
that he was indeed able to perform a marriage ceremony at sea
on that boat."
"He- ?" Laura turned to look at Remington, whose worried
smile made her suspicious.
"He had just finished paying for the boat the day before
you and Remington went to him." She smiled at the man who
was standing, hands in pockets. "Juan was very grateful to
you for your help in getting the financing for the boat, Remington."
"Yes, well -" he said, his eyes still on Laura, seeing
all the signs of her temper ready to explode. "His cousin
and I go back a few years -" he explained, knowing that he
was simply digging that hole between himself and Laura even deeper.
"What was the other reason you changed your mind?"
"Well, after talking to Juan, I returned to the office, trying
to figure out why this man would tell me such an obvious lie -
when I got the report on Phillipe du Pres." She opened her
briefcase and drew out a paper. "Phillipe du Pres was here
on a work visa - and his sponsor was Max Grumby."
"And he was the man that told you that Remington and I aren't
*really* married," Laura said in a soft, dangerous tone.
"Yes." Sensing the tension in the room, Estelle frowned.
"I know I could have called with this information, but I
thought you should be aware of what Max Grumby had tried to do.
If I hadn't known you both as well as I do, and decided to check
up on Juan Cortez, that deportation order would have been sent
out this evening."
"I'm glad you had second thought, Estelle," Remington
told her. "And thank you for the information about Grumby.
It's the tie between the two men that we've been looking for,
right, Laura?"
She didn't really smile, he noticed. "Right. If you'll excuse
me, I have something to take care of. It was nice seeing you,
Estelle."
"Laura -" Remington called as the door closed behind
her. "Damn," he cursed softly. "Sorry, Estelle-"
"Did I say something that she was unaware of?" she asked.
He nodded. "She thought the marriage on the tuna boat wasn't
legal," he confessed. When Estelle's eyes widened, he grinned.
"It's a long story. And I give you my word that I'll tell
you about it, but- right now, I need to find Laura and try to
explain it to her."
Estelle nodded. "I was on my way home, so I thought I'd just
stop by. Truth is, Remington," she admitted as they moved
toward the door, "Even if Max Grumby's story had checked
out, I think I would have held that order back a few days- given
you and Laura a chance to be legally married, then applied again
for your visa."
He smiled down at her. "Really? Ever think about moving to
the private sector, Estelle?" he asked, knowing that Mildred
was listening and watching.
"You mean leaving the INS? Sometimes."
"Well, when you do, come see Laura and me. I think we could
find something for you to do here."
Estelle glanced at Mildred, fully aware that the older woman was
a former IRS agent who had lost her job and gone to work for the
Steeles. "I'll remember that."
"Lock up, will you, Mildred?" he asked. "I have
some fences to mend."
"Good luck," Mildred called after him. "And I don't
envy you. She was furious -"
"With reason I'm afraid," he admitted, leaving the two
women staring after him.
"Do you know why Laura was so angry, Mildred?" Estelle
asked.
Mildred considered the question before answering. "Tell you
what, have you got anything planned for this evening?" The
two women had developed a friendship, Mildred being ex-IRS, and
Estelle being INS. The two had a lot in common.
"Just a solitary dinner and some paperwork," she said,
lifting her briefcase.
"Why don't you and I have something to eat somewhere and
I'll try to explain what's going on?" Mildred suggested.
"Can you leave now?"
"Sure. Just let me call the alert the answering service and
then lock up."
***********
Downstairs, Remington saw that the limo was parked in its usual
spot, Fred leaning against the highly polished metal, looking
down the street. "Fred, did you see Mrs. Steele?"
"Yessir, I did. She came down, walked past me and hailed
a cab."
"Which way did she go?"
Fred nodded in the direction that he had been looking. "That
way."
"Did you notice the cab company and number?"
"Golden State Cab - number 345." He opened the rear
door, waiting for Remington to get into the limo, then closing
the door. Remington looked down the street as Fred got behind
the wheel. "Where to, Mr. Steele?"
"Just a moment, Fred." He picked up the telephone and
asked the mobile operator for information. Fifteen minutes later,
he hung up. She'd switched cabs, leaving the Golden State Cab
for another. All he could do was go home, and wait - and pray
that she'd come back so that he could try to explain. Sitting
back against the leather seat, he sighed. "Home, I suppose,
Fred."
**********
"Thanks for calling, Meg," Max Grumby said to the woman
on the other end of the line. "No, I'm fine. Just got to
get some things taken care of. I understand that it wasn't your
fault. Don't worry about it. Give my best to Larry," he said,
referring to his cousin's husband. Max looked down at the open
file on his desk, at the photo of Laura Holt that smiled up at
him.
His cousin had called to alert him to the fact that Estelle Becker
of the INS was looking for him in regards to his sponsorship of
Phillipe du Pres into the country on a work visa. They were onto
him. Resting his head in his hands, he considered his options.
One, he could leave. Now. Before he had to face Tony Roselli again.
It would only be a short leap from discovering his connection
to du Pres/du Mont to figuring out that he had also killed Manny.
Two deaths - he'd never actively killed anyone before du Mont.
Never had to. Malcolm had had someone else to do that kind of
thing for him.
Thinking about his former employer brought to mind his second
option. Roselli had phrased it well.
"Be careful that you don't end up like your friend Malcolm:
with a bullet to the brain."
Whatever his decision, Max knew that he had to try to clear all
this up. Searching in his desk, he located a halfway clean sheet
of paper and a pen - and began to write.
**********
Estelle Becker's eyes were like saucers as she listened to Mildred's
explanation of Laura's actions. "You mean she thought the
marriage was fake? That she intended to con me and that odious
Norman Keyes -"
Mildred nodded over her plate. "You got it. She was furious
with Mr. Steele for not coming to her in the first place about
his problems with Immigration. And his decision to marry that
other young woman was even more of an insult, she thought. So
agreeing to *really* marry him was out of the question. Mr. Steele
assured her that Juan Cortez was only a fish cleaner- with no
real authority to marry them."
"And Remington hadn't told her about this?"
"She thought they were still trying to hide a fake marriage.
That's why the Chief asked her to marry him again- so that *she*
would consider everything legal."
Estelle sat back in her chair, shaking her head. "I don't
know how Laura kept from strangling him. I think I would have."
"Oh, I'm sure she considered it- as well as a few other choice
means of murder," Mildred said with a smile. "That's
why she took off the way she did."
"Do you think she might insist that he end the marriage?"
Estelle asked.
Mildred, knowing that Laura would never risk losing the Agency
because of Mr. Steele's deportation, shook her head. "I doubt
it. Those two kids really do love each other, Estelle. This will
pass. Believe me. I've seen them screaming at each other one minute
and the next cooing like a couple of lovebirds. She just needs
time to come to terms with the news. And to figure out some way
to make him pay for conning *her* instead of you and Keyes."
"I wonder if she needs any help?" Estelle mused. "I'm
going to talk to Mr. Grumby again tomorrow about his sponsorship
of du Mont - and find out who put him up to coming to me."
"I know who it was," Mildred said. When Estelle looked
at her curiously, she said, "Tony Roselli."
**********
As he neared Max Grumby's office, Remington frowned, wondering
if Jarvis had decided to arrest the man instead of merely questioning
him.
He'd been pacing the apartment, worrying, checking the front door
and the telephone every few moments, trying to convince himself
that Laura would be back once she'd cooled off, that everything
would be fine, when the telephone rang.
Thinking, no, *hoping*, that it might be Laura, he'd answered
before the ring finished, only to find that it was Lt. Jarvis,
who strongly suggested that he come down to Max's office as soon
as possible.
He left the limo free in case Laura wanted to use it to get home,
and took the Rabbit, parking it now behind Jarvis' unmarked vehicle.
Seeing the ambulance on the curb caused his frown to deepen and
on his way up the two flights of stairs he passed two attendants.
One of them told the other - "Nothing we could do for the
guy. The Lieutenant's already called the coroner."
As he approached the office, a young officer smiled in recognition.
"Mr. Steele." He stepped aside. "Lt. Jarvis said
I was to send you right in."
Remington nodded in silent acknowledgement as he entered the office
to see the inner door standing open. His concern grew stronger
as he neared the portal.
Jarvis was watching someone dust for prints, and looked up. "Steele."
But Remington barely heard him. His attention was wholly focused
on the grisly scene before him. Max Grumby was dead.
**********
Tony Roselli stood outside the building, watching as the stretcher
was loaded into the coroner's wagon. He'd heard someone in the
crowd say that the detective in the building had been found dead
- and Tony wasn't happy. He moved as close to the Rabbit as possible,
deciding to wait here for Laura to come out, when a familiar voice
reached his ears. Hearing it, he ducked behind some trash cans.
Where was Laura? he wondered.
"Laura will be relieved that this clears her," Remington
Steele said, holding up an envelope before putting it into his
pocket.
"I'll put out that APB on Roselli as soon as I get back to
the office," Lt. Jarvis said, causing Tony to duck behind
some trash cans. "Although at the moment I can't hold him
for more than being an accessory to murder after the fact."
"I want him found, Jarvis," Remington said as he opened
the door of the Rabbit. "As long as he's on the loose - this
isn't over."
"I can't say I blame you for being angry Steele. Sending
Max to Immigration with that story about your marriage not being
legal was below the belt."
"Lucky for me, Antony Roselli doesn't know as much as he
thinks he does." His eyes darkened dangerously again. "I
mean it, Jarvis. I want him found."
Jarvis placed a hand on the car. "Steele- let us handle this,
okay? Don't go out and make trouble -"
"I'm not the one who's been making trouble, Jarvis. But I
just might end it."
Jarvis looked at him for a long moment before stepping back as
he started the small car's engine. "Give my best to Laura."
Remington nodded and pulled away from the curb, merging into traffic.
Jarvis sent another look to the building, then got into his car
and left as well.
Tony came from his hiding place once the police vehicles were
out of sight. "Damn!" he cursed, kicking the nearest
trash can, sending it rolling into the street. It was time to
get serious, he decided. There was only one option left to him
now, he realized. He'd been hesitant to take that step, but he
had no choice. He'd give Laura one more chance, and if she still
refused to listen, then he was going to stop that wedding Saturday
and put an end to the Steele's marriage - no matter what he had
to do to accomplish that.
To Be Continued . . .