Disclaimers in Part 1
Remington opened his eyes and looked around, forgetting momentarily where he was. Lifting his head, he saw the pattern of sunlight on the faded wallpaper. His head fell back onto the pillow as memory returned.
He was in Daniel's flat, in his "old" room. The room that Daniel had kept open just for him in case he needed a place to stay. On his visit to London over a year ago, when he'd been trying to locate his father, Remington had deliberately avoided this place, thinking that it held no answers to his questions. A humorless laugh escaped Remington's lips as he realized that all of the answers to his questions had indeed been here after all.
Reaching over, he picked up his wristwatch and looked at it. It was almost eight- which meant that Mildred would probably be sound asleep. He'd call her later- maybe take a chance on calling her at the office.
Slowly, Remington rose from the bed and made his way to the connecting bath. He had a long day ahead of him.
***
The flat in Kensington was the same one that Felicia had been living in on that fateful trip to London. She opened the door at his knock and smiled when she saw the bouquet of flowers that he held before his face. "Flowers for the lady?" he asked in a Cockney accent.
"Hello, Michael," Felicia cooed, taking the flowers as he lowered them. "They're lovely. Come in, please." He noticed her curious glance at the package in his other hand, but retained it and moved into the room, surveying the furnishings.
"Looks as though you're doing rather well for yourself these days," he told her, sitting on the sofa as she put the flowers into a vase.
"I can't really complain, I suppose," she admitted. Suddenly her grey eyes grew serious. "How are you doing? I tried to ring you yesterday, but there was no answer."
"I was out meeting with Daniel's solicitors," Remington explained. "And to that end-" he showed her the box that he was holding in his hands. "I believe Daniel wanted you to have this."
Felicia's eyes lit up, her concern for him apparently pushed aside by the thought of what the box might contain. She placed it before her on the table and lifted the lid. Taking one of the tissue wrapped items from inside, she gave Remington a look before removing the tissue to reveal a jade figurine. "Oh, my," she sighed, and removed another, setting each piece on the table between them.
"Daniel knew that you admired the collection. This, however, I believe he purchased just with you mind," he added, drawing the long velvet box from his jacket pocket as she paused in her unpacking of the jade.
She took the box and opened it. "Oh." She looked at him. "Purchased, you say?"
Remington nodded. "I have the receipt. Apparently Daniel was quite taken with you."
She shook her head as she lifted the necklace from its bed of satin. "I had no idea. He never said a word - "
"Here," Remington said, standing up and moving to stand behind her chair, where he fastened the necklace around her long neck.
Felicia's long fingers touched the gems.
"Lovely," he declared.
Felicia looked up at him. "Michael, why don't we take a trip to Cannes?" she said suddenly. "I'm sure that will put a smile back in your eyes. Cannes always made you so happy-"
"Sorry. Too much to do. Daniel left a list of debts that I'm to pay off."
"Will you be staying in London, then?" she asked.
"No. In fact, the flat's being packed away for storage as we speak."
"You're giving up Daniel's flat? You've decided to return to Los Angeles then?"
"I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet, Felicia," Remington said. "I promised to give Laura time-"
"She's had over five years, darling," Felicia pointed out. "I think that's more than enough time to know whether or not she wants you or that other man."
For a moment, Remington regretted telling Felicia about Tony Roselli. He hadn't told her everything, just enough to explain why he was in London instead of in Los Angeles with his "bride".
Felicia's sigh brought Remington back to himself and he looked at her with a frown. "You know, Michael, darling, Laura's the first woman who's managed to hold your interest for more than a fortnight. And she managed something that absolutely *none* of the rest of us did. She got a commitment out of you. I simply can't believe that you'd leave the field clear for someone else after all of that."
Remington stared at her for a long moment, and then felt a smile forming on his face. "Felicia, luv, you're amazing."
"I *knew* that, darling," she responded, then said, "How did you mean that?"
"You helped me to make up my mind. Once I've finished with Daniel's debts, I'm taking the first flight back to Los Angeles and I'm going to fight for Laura. Whatever Antony Roselli is offering can't possibly stand up against what she and I have built over the last five years." He gave her a kiss. "Thank you."
"Why don't we have dinner this evening?" she suggested as he turned toward the doors. "Michael?"
"Sorry, but I've a lot to do before I can leave." He hesitated in the doorway as he looked at her. "Take care of yourself."
"Always, darling," she replied. "Who else have I got?"
He gave her another kiss and then left the Kensington flat, going to Daniel's tailor to pay his last bill there, and then to his favorite restaurants and tobacco shop.
There were also several debts owed to those on the less-than-sunny side of the street: bookmakers, ex-partners in crime that took most of the day to track down.
By the time Remington returned to the flat, there was only one name left on the list: Marissa Peters. Daniel had wanted Remington to return the money she'd given him to find her father if he hadn't been successful in that endevour before his death.
Remington knew that Marissa had planned to remain in Dublin and try to convince the Russian authorities to help her. So his trip back to Los Angeles would entail a side trip back to Ireland, he decided as he surveyed the various packing crates and disarray of the rooms. Perhaps a hotel might be a good idea for the evening, he was thinking, as there came a knock on the door.
Side-stepping the crates of artwork and the furnishings that he wanted to keep, including the French provincial desk and ornate chair that matched it, Remington opened the door and stared at the unshaven little man wearing a worn, wrinkled suit that had clearly seen better days.
"May I help you?" he asked.
"Are you Remington Steele?" the man asked.
Remington frowned. "Yes," he replied.
"Are you the gentleman that Daniel Chalmers called 'arry?" the man questioned.
"Yes, he did. Did you know Daniel?"
"Never met the man," he responded in a brusque tone, pulling a card out of his pocket. He held it out. "Cheevers' the name. I'm a private detective. Been 'ired t'find you."
"Hired? By whom?" Remington wanted to know.
"Your grandfather," Cheevers announced. "Liam 'arrison."
***
Mildred frowned as Tony and Laura entered the office together, laughing. "Something funny going on?" she questioned, her eyes narrowing as they fell on the curly haired man.
"Tony was just telling me about something that happened to him awhile back," Laura explained. "Any news, Mildred?"
"Bupkes," Mildred replied. "None of my contacts have been able to get a telephone number for Chalmers in London."
"Phone might not have been in his name," Tony pointed out. "I mean, Chalmers' credit rating probably wasn't four star."
"I had them do a cross check on the address," Mildred pointed out. "Still nothing." She eyed Laura. "I guess you two got here at the same time, huh?"
Laura nodded as she picked up a stack of telephone messages. "Fred called this morning and said that the limo had two flat tires."
"Two flats?"
"He wasn't sure what had happened when he called," Laura told her. "I was going to call a cab, but Tony happened to come by and offered to give me a lift."
"Happened to come by?" Mildred repeated, glaring at Tony.
He grinned and shrugged. "I had a feeling something was wrong. What can I say?"
"Oh, no," Laura sighed, and looked at Mildred. "You didn't tell me that my *mother* called."
"I haven't had time," Mildred said in self-defense. "She and the Pipers just got back from that trip to Japan," Mildred explained, "and there were apparently a slew of messages on Mrs. Piper's machine about the marriage."
"Oh, great."
Tony glanced at Laura. "Problem?" he asked.
"My mother is always a problem," Laura fretted. "I suppose I'd better call and try to explain- somehow-," she said, turning toward the door to her office, but stopped as an elderly couple came into the office.
"May I help you?" Laura asked.
"I'm Michael Hanlon," the man explained. "And this is my wife, Julia. We have an appointment to see Mr. Steele?"
"Of course," Laura said, forbearing not to mention that they were early. "Mr. Steele is out of town, but I'm Laura Holt-Steele, his wife and partner. If you would just go into that office," she pointed toward Remington's office, "Mr. Roselli and I will be right with you to discuss your case."
Mrs. Hanlon gave Tony an uncertain look. "And who is- Mr. Roselli?" she wanted to know.
"This is a very sensitive matter, Mrs. Steele," Mr. Hanlon continued before Laura could answer his wife's query. "We were counting on Mr. Steele's reputation for discretion-"
"Mr. Roselli is an operative for the agency," Laura explained. "And discretion is our middle name."
"Where is Mr. Steele?" Mr. Hanlon asked.
"Out of town on another case," Laura explained easily. "But he'll be checking in frequently, and I'll be sure to give him a full report on your case if you decide to let us handle it." She indicated the door again, and this time the couple moved in that direction.
"Very good," Tony complimented her.
"I've had lots of practice," Laura replied. "Let's go." She started toward the office as the telephone rang. "Let me do all the talking, okay?" she was saying.
Mildred picked it up. "Remington Steele Investigations."
"Mr. Roselli, please," a man said.
"It's for you, Roselli," Mildred called out.
Laura glanced at Tony. "Go ahead. Catch up when you finish."
Tony nodded and pointed toward Laura's office. "I'll take it in here," he told Mildred, who frowned at him until the other line rang as well, forcing her to hang up as Tony picked up the extension in Laura's office.
"Remington Steele Investigations," Mildred answered, her eyes on the man standing in front of Laura's desk, his back toward her.
"Mildred-"
Tony Roselli was forgotten as Mildred gasped. "Mr. Steele?"
"Mildred, please. I'd rather Laura not know that I-"
"But, -"
"I just called to let you know that I'm okay."
"Let me go get Mrs. Steele," Mildred said, "Don't go anywhere." She put down the telephone, ignoring Remington's voice.
"No, Mildred, I-"
Mildred hustled toward the main office, tapping once on the door before entering. Laura was sitting in the conference area with a well-dressed couple. "I really thought that we would be meeting with Mr. Steele today, Mrs. Steele," the man was saying, his tone filled with disapproval and disappointment.
"Mrs. Steele-" Mildred said, trying to get Laura's attention.
Laura lifted a hand in Mildred's direction. "Just a moment, please, Mildred," she said, and then turned back to the clients. "Believe me, Mr. Hanlon, Mr. Steele will be on top of your case every step of the way. As I explained, he's out of town on another case, but he checks in every day so that we can discuss how things are going."
"Mrs. Steele!" Mildred said again with more force. The Hanlons and Laura looked at her.
"Mildred, I'm busy-"
"I really think you should take this telephone call, Mrs. Steele," Mildred interrupted. "It's *him*."
Laura's eyes widened, and she gracefully rose from her chair, apologizing to the Hanlons. "If you'll excuse me. I won't be a moment."
As Laura came from the office, she saw Tony coming out of her office. "What's going on, Laura?" Tony asked.
"Remington's on the telephone," Laura explained, grabbing the receiver, hearing a soft "click" as she put it to her ear. "Hello?" She frowned. "Hello?" Taking a deep breath, Laura slowly returned the receiver. "He hung up. Guess he didn't want to talk to me."
"Oh, hon, I'm sure that's not true. He's just confused," Mildred said. "He'll call back."
"Did he give you any idea where he was, Mildred?" Laura asked.
"Nothing. I'm sorry, Mrs. Steele."
Tony put an arm around Laura's shoulders. "Hey. It'll be okay. You're right. He'll call back. Maybe the connection closed. Or he couldn't wait. Maybe he didn't have enough change to continue the call."
"He doesn't carry change," Laura murmured as the door to Remington's office opened and Mr. Hanlon appeared.
"Mrs. Steele- I'm a busy man."
"Oh. I'm sorry, Mr. Hanlon," Laura said, rushing to the man's side. "Mr. Roselli, with me, please."
Once the door closed behind them, Mildred grabbed the telephone and dialed a number. It was answered quickly. "Fred? It's Mildred. Where are you?"
"Just leaving the tire place. Does Mrs. Steele need to go somewhere? I thought she had meetings today-"
"She does. I have some questions. What happened to the tires?"
"You know, it's strange. They were fine last night, but when I got ready to leave this morning, the back passenger side was flat as a pancake. So I went into the trunk to change it, and the spare was in the same condition."
"Any nails or-"
"No. That's what's so strange. It's like someone let the air out of them deliberately. Even the spare."
"Could it have been the kids in your apartment building?" she asked.
"No way. Like I told Mr. Steele awhile back, those kids think having a limo around is a status symbol. They fight over who's going to wash it. None of them would have done that."
Mildred thought for a second. "Okay. You up to a little detective work, Fred?" she asked.
"Me?"
"I just want to ask around, see if anyone saw anything unusual, if any of the kids have a little extra pocket money than they normally would, things like that."
"Sure. I can do that."
"If you find out anything, let me know, okay? I'd rather not bother Mrs. Steele with this right now." Mildred hung up the phone and sat staring it at, silently willing Mr. Steele to call again.
***
When Mr. and Mrs. Hanlon left, after being reassured by Laura that they would find the young man who had deserted their pregnant granddaughter, Mildred noted Laura's quiet demeanor.
"No more calls, I guess?" Laura asked.
"Sorry. I gave it another shot to try and find a number, but came up empty again."
"What time is the next appointment?" Laura questioned.
"Fifteen minutes," Mildred explained.
Tony picked up the telephone Mildred's desk and dialed. "Who are you calling?" Laura asked.
"My contact. I haven't heard from him today. Maybe he found something." He waited for the other end to pick up. "It's Roselli. Got anything? . . ." He pulled a slip of paper over to the edge of Mildred's desk and picked up a pen. "Shoot." Laura looked over his shoulder as he wrote down a number. "Got it. Thanks." He hung up and held out the paper to Laura. "The number for Daniel Chalmers' apartment."
Laura picked up the telephone and dialed the number. After fifteen rings, she hung up again. "No answer."
***
Remington was at the elevator when he heard the telephone ringing in the flat. Dropping the suitcase he'd been holding, he returned to the door and dug for his lock picks before remembering that he had a key. By the time he'd dug out the key and put it into the lock, the phone was silent.
With a sigh, he turned back to the elevator and picked up his case as the doors opened. Felicia, most likely, wanting to wish him goodbye again. His flight for Dublin was waiting.
And so was his grandfather.
In the taxi, Remington found that he was still torn between seeing the old man or just ignoring the summons. After all, Liam Harrison had made a deliberate decision to excise his grandson from his life almost thirty-five years ago. Why was it so important now that he see that grandson except to satisfy some long buried sense of guilt?
He would find Marissa and pay her what she was owed, and then make his final decision.
As for Laura, the next time he called Mildred, he'd call her at home, where she couldn't go get Laura. And he wouldn't make even that call until he'd made a final decision about his grandfather's request to see him.
But in his heart, Remington knew that he'd already made that decision.
He'd lost too many years not knowing who Daniel was. He didn't want to lose whatever time he might have with his grandfather as well.
He would go to see Liam Harrison, listen to what the man had to say, and then decide whether to forgive him- or tell him to bugger off.
***
Tony entered Steele's office via the connecting door to find Laura standing at the window, looking out. Moving toward her, he stood close. "It'll be okay, Laura."
"He obviously doesn't want to talk to me," she said.
"I doubt that."
"Oh come on. I hurt him, Tony. Badly."
"So he runs off like a little boy to lick his wounds? Is that the kind of guy you want, Laura?" Tony asked her.
"You don't know Remington. He had a very hard life. Passed around from family to family, living on the street-"
"Yeah, well, we've all had hard times, Laura," Tony pointed out. "But if we're lucky, it makes us stronger, able to go after and hold onto what we want. Not to run away at the first sign of trouble. If Steele were any kind of man, he'd have stayed here and fought for you in person."
Laura shook her head. "I wish-"
"Wish what?"
"That I never said what I did to you that day. That I hadn't given you reason to believe we had a future-"
Tony lifted her chin so he could look at her. "Hey, it wouldn't have made any difference. I love you, Laura. And I'm here. Even if it's only as a friend, I'm here for you."
Laura took a deep breath and released it before resting her head against his chest, letting herself draw in some of his strength for a moment.
Mildred opened the office door, intending to give Laura the information she'd dug up on Neil Overton, the young man that Mr. Hanlon had asked them to locate. But seeing Laura in Tony Roselli's arms, Mildred's eyes widened.
No way was she going to make things easy for that would-be Lothario to step into Mr. Steele's shoes. "Here's that information on that Overton guy, Mrs. Steele," she said loudly, hiding her smile as Laura jumped and moved guiltily away from Tony's embrace. "He's a real prize. Got a record as long as my arm. Makes a habit of romancing vulnerable women," Mildred pointed out, glaring at Tony, who returned the look evenly.
Laura read the report. "Thanks, Mildred. How long till the next client is due?"
"An hour. One pm."
"You two go get some lunch," Laura told them.
"What about you?" Tony asked
"I'll get something later. Or you and Mildred can bring something back," Laura decided, sitting down at the desk. "I have paperwork to do. I need to call Mother and Frances. And - I want to be here, just in case-"
Mildred nodded, not happy about the idea of having lunch with Roselli, but wanting the opportunity to remind him yet again that Laura was a married woman- and he was responsible for Mr. Steele not being here. "Come on, Roselli. You heard the boss. Let's go."
Laura didn't look up from the paperwork before her, and Tony gave Mildred a wary smile as he joined her to leave the office.
Once they were in the office, he said, "I'm glad we're going to have this time together, Mildred. I think we need to clear the air-"
"You betcha," Mildred agreed. "Because *you* are going to explain to me exactly what you're up to, Roselli." They entered the elevator and Mildred pressed the button for the ground floor.
"Up to?" he repeated, giving her an innocent look. "I'm not up to anything except trying to be a friend to Laura."
"Oh, come on, buster. You and I both know that you want to be a lot more than a 'friend' to *Mrs.* Steele. You haven't forgotten that she's married, have you?"
"Well-"
"Good. And I'm not buying that you just *happened* to drop by this morning to bring her to work," Mildred said.
"Yeah. Call it luck or intuition if you want."
"I don't want. You want me to tell you what I think happened?" Mildred questioned.
"By all means, Mildred. I said I wanted to clear the air, remember?"
"I think you either let the air out of the limo's tires- or paid someone to do it for you," she accused. "And knowing that Fred wouldn't be there, you went to pick Mrs. Steele up."
"You can't prove that."
"Not yet. But I'm sure someone saw something, or remembers seeing a mug like yours." Mildred poked him in the chest with her finger. "And when I get the evidence, I'm gonna take the air out of *your* tires, Roselli." The elevator doors opened and she stepped out. "I'll take a rain check on lunch. I don't think I could sit at the same table with you and enjoy it."
Tony watched her walk away, a speculative look on his face that slowly changed into a determined smile.
To Be Continued---