- Steele In The
Know4
- Part 2
- Upon their arrival in Dublin, Remington
and Laura sent Mildred on ahead to Ashford Castle. "To-scope
things out, as it were," Remington told her. "Get a
bead on what we might do to turn things around if they're in
as bad a shape as Katherine implied."
"What will you two be doing?" Mildred inquired as the
cab driver finished placing their luggage into the trunk of the
car.
"Looking for Murphy," Laura explained. "We'll
join you at the castle just as soon as we find him- or at least
get a good lead on where he might have gone."
Remington opened the door. "In you go, Mildred," he
said, assisting her into the back seat, then tapped the top of
the car to signal the driver. Once the vehicle was away, Remington
turned to look at his wife. "Where do we start?"
"The bed and breakfast, obviously. Maybe he left something
there that will point us in the right direction."
"He might even have returned by now," Remington suggested,
flagging down another cab.
The owner of the small hotel smiled in response to their questions
about his missing guest. "Aye, Mr. Michaels is registered
here, but he's not been in for the last two days."
Laura frowned. "Oh, dear. He's my cousin," she confided.
"And I was supposed to meet him here. You're sure he didn't
say anything about where he might be going?"
"Not a word. Left here a couple of days ago in the afternoon,
he did, sayin' he'd see me later. His room's paid up til the
end o'the week."
"I don't suppose you could- let us into his room?"
Laura asked hopefully.
The Irishman shook his head. "Oh, now, I don't think I could
be doin' that. But you're welcome t'take one of the other rooms
and wait for him."
"I don't-," Laura began, only to be cut off by Remington.
"We'll take it," he said, bringing out his wallet.
Laura turned from the door as the little man left to find Remington
with his hand on the telephone. "WHY did you agree to take
a room? I thought we were going to Ashford."
"We will, love," he assured her. "But we might
as well wait a bit, see if Murphy does indeed turn up. And while
we're waiting, I'll have the chance to make some calls that I
didn't have time to make before we left Los Angeles."
"What calls?" Laura asked, moving to look out of the
window as an elderly couple entered the building.
"Check with a few old friends, see if any of them know what
Daniel might be up to. Where he might be." He finished dialing
a number and waited for it to be answered. "Lady Claridge,
please. Remington Steele." Laura took a deep breath, pacing
the room as she listened. "Katherine? . . .How are you doing?
. . .Actually, I called to find out if you'd heard from Daniel
. . .I see. Could I ask a slight favor? . . .If he does call,
don't mention anything about having seen me. But you might tell
him that your solicitor contacted me about Ashford and that Laura
and I will be there for awhile. . . No, we did go back to Los
Angeles, but we found out a friend is missing in Dublin- . .
.Yes." He sat down. "Really? How interesting . . .But
it's missing, you say? . . .Don't worry yourself, Katherine.
I don't need the watch. It's the thought that counts, anyway.
. . If you need anything, just call. . . .Yes. I will. Good bye."
He hung up, frowning.
"What?"
"Apparently the Earl told Katherine that he intended to
see that I got the pocket watch back- the one he meant for his
son?" When Laura nodded, he continued. "But when she
went to get it from where he had put it after I returned it,
it was gone. She's afraid it was stolen again."
"How strange."
"Yes." He picked up the telephone again.
"I think I'll go talk to some of the other guests. Maybe
Murphy said something to them about where he was going."
"Good idea," he agreed. "Be careful."
"I will." She turned from the door to give him a kiss
as his call was answered. She could hear someone on the other
end of the line.
"Hello? Hello, is anyone there?"
Laura smiled. "Give Felicia my regards," she whispered,
moving away to leave the room.
"Hello? If you don't say something, I'm going to hang up
the line," Felicia warned in that throaty, low voice that
had once seemed incredibly sexy to Remington.
"Hello, Felicia. How are you doing?"
"Michael?" the woman asked. . .
- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Laura found the elderly couple in a downstairs sitting room,
having afternoon tea. She easily struck up a conversation, finding
out that they were also American, but that the woman's parents
had been Irish immigrants. "We're here trying to find my
roots, I suppose you could say."
"That's a coincidence," Laura told them. "My cousin
was here in Dublin trying to find information on my husband's
family. Maybe you've met him? My cousin, I mean. Murphy Michaels?"
"Oh, you mean that young man who's staying in the room beside
ours? Such a nice young man, right, Horace?" she asked.
Horace nodded. "You say you're his cousin?"
"Yes. I was going to meet him here- but he seems to have
vanished."
"He's been gone for a couple of days," Gladys confirmed.
"I have to tell you that I'm getting a bit worried about
him. He told us that he's a private investigator."
"Yes, he is. Did he- happen to mention anything about- what
he might have found?"
"No," Gladys said, thoughtfully. "Not that I recall.
Did he mention anything to you, Horace?"
"Well, the day he left, I saw him take a note from a local
boy- after he read it, he turned to ask the boy where he'd gotten
the note, but the boy was halfway down the block."
"Where was I when this happened?" Gladys asked.
"Taking a bath, I believe. Mr. Michaels took off after the
boy, and when he came back a few minutes later, he mentioned
that he had a pretty good lead. Said he should be back in a few
hours to get his things and go home."
Gladys looked at him. "You never told me this."
"You didn't ask," he said.
Laura rose from the chair she had been sitting in. "Well,
thank you. I'm going to go see if my husband has finished his
calls. If you remember anything else, just knock. We're in room
four."
"We're in room one," Horace told her.
Laura returned upstairs, pausing at the closed door of the room
she and Remington had taken to look across the hall at room two.
It had to be Murphy's room, she decided. It was the only one
next to Horace and Gladys Witherspoon's room.
Glancing up and down the dark, narrow corridor, she pulled her
lock pick from its case and made short work of the opposite door,
slipping easily inside. Typically for her former partner, the
room was neat as the proverbial pin. Nothing out of place- except
for a slip of paper on the floor next to a small writing desk.
Picking it up, Laura read it and smiled. A clue.
Remington was just hanging up the telephone when Laura returned
to the room. "Find out anything?" she asked him, her
eyes shining.
"Nothing. He's vanished just like Murphy. Everyone I spoke
to denied that he was involved in anything remotely shady."
"Hmm," Laura said. "I'm sure he'll show up when
he's ready. He might just be upset over the Earl's death. Katherine
DID say that they had become good friends, remember."
"Yes," he agreed, then turned his attention to her.
"I tried to call the castle, too. The phone lines are down.
What did you find?"
"Oh, just the clue that might lead us directly to Murphy.
Or at least to where he went when he left here." She held
out the note. "I found it in his room. It was delivered
the day he left by a local boy."
Remington took the note and read it. "If you want information
about Remington Steele's father, be at O'Flanagan's pub in Glen
Cree by nine tonight."
"A bit cryptic, wouldn't you say?" he asked. "I
mean, there's no signature, no initial." He studied the
paper. "But the handwriting is vaguely familiar. I know
I've seen it before," he mused.
Laura came to put her arm through his. "I think it's time
we started toward the castle, don't you, Mr. Steele?"
"Mmm," he agreed, still musing over the note. "I
think you're right, Mrs. Steele."
- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The cab dropped them outside of the small pub in Glen Cree. Remington
tried to convince Laura to continue on to the castle, that he
would join her later, but she refused to consider the idea. "Don't
tell me that there's some unwritten law here that says a woman
can't go into a public bar and have a drink with her husband?"
she said.
"Not at all. Come along, Mrs. Steele," he urged, leading
her toward the building.
"Should I wait, sir?" the cab driver asked.
"If you wouldn't mind," Remington told him. "This
shouldn't take too long."
The pub wasn't crowded, and Laura was surprised when Remington
went to a table instead of the bar. The bartender, a thin, smiling
man, came across to them. "We don't get very many visitors
in here," he said. "Just passin' through?"
"Not really," Remington told him, returning the smile.
"I'm the new owner of Ashford Castle, actually," he
said.
"Are y'now? I wish y'the luck of it, then. I'd heard that
the new owner might be on his way t'Glen Cree. Me cousin works
up at the Castle as a maid." He waved as someone came in.
"What can I get for you, now?"
"Two pints, if you don't mind. And some information."
"The pints I can manage. Information, now-," he said,
the smile faltering only slightly.
"A friend of ours was supposed to meet someone here the
other evening. American, tall, blonde."
"The boy next door type," Laura finished, then dug
into her purse as the man frowned. Flipping through the photographs
in her wallet, she held one up. "It's a few years old, but
he hasn't changed much." Remington gave her a "thumbs
up" sign as the bartender looked at the photograph.
"Y'know, as a matter of fact, he was in here. Came in- night
before last, he did."
"Did he meet anyone?"
"Aye, sat at that table over there- older gentleman, white
hair. They argued for some time, then the younger man got up
and left."
"And the older man?" Laura asked, looked at Remington.
"He followed th'younger one."
Remington asked, "Had you ever seen the older man before?"
"Sorry. I've only been back in Glen Cree for a few weeks.
Spent several years in London."
"Do you know where they might have gone?" Laura probed.
"Twas a bit busy in here. I didn't notice. Excuse me. I'll
have Mary bring your pints."
Laura sat back. "We're no further along now than we were
in Dublin," she sighed.
"Maybe. Maybe not. Surely someone else in town saw the two
of them. Once we finish our drinks, we'll ask a few questions."
With the cab driver watching impatiently, Laura and Remington
questioned several locals about whether or not they had seen
Murphy around town. They were about to give up when the local
constable, a heavyset man with a fringe of bright red hair, looked
thoughtful. "Y'know, I think I DID see this gentleman. Driving
out toward Ashford Castle, as a matter of fact."
"Why would he go there?" Remington wondered.
"Maybe because the man he was with is the Earl of Claridge's
Chief of Security," the man informed them.
"You- wouldn't happen to know the man's name, would you?"
Remington wanted to know.
"Sure now, and I do. Chalmers. Daniel Chalmers, it is."
"Thank you," Laura told the man as Remington turned
toward the waiting cab.
She barely got inside before he ordered the driver to go. "Ashford
Castle," he said. "As soon as you can." Remington
was looking at the note. "I should have recognized Daniel's
handwriting. He's slipping."
"It doesn't make sense," Laura protested. "Why
would Daniel lure Murphy down here?" wondered aloud. "And
why is he still passing himself off as the Earl's Chief of Security?"
"There's only one possible reason," Remington told
her. "He's known who my father is all this time and hasn't
told me."
"I don't believe that he would-, I mean, he KNOWS you've
been looking for your father. Why keep the information from you?"
"I don't know. But I'm going to find out if I have to wring
that old fraud's neck to do it," Remington said in a tone
that left little doubt that he was fighting keeping his temper
in check.
Laura placed a hand on his arm as she turned her attention to
the Irish country side. She had her own thoughts about why Daniel
had lied to Remington- but she wasn't quite ready to put them
into words. If she was right, then she hoped that Remington calmed
down BEFORE the two men met again. Because she wasn't sure what
his reaction might be.
To Be Continued. . .
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content ©1999 by Nancy Eddy