"I think I've found something, Sid," the gray haired woman said. Sid moved away from the back issues that he was examining to peer over his assistant's shoulder.
"Whatcha got?" he asked.
"It's not much," she began in her gravelly voice, "but- according to this, Philip Cameron's accountant was arrested for tax evasion fifteen years ago. Not for his personal taxes. For Cameron's. He was sentenced to ten years in prison."
"How come the accountant went to prison if it was Cameron who owed the taxes?"
"He was handling Cameron's books, and supposedly took it upon himself to cut some corners. Cameron paid the taxes and penalties with a smile and got off. The accountant wasn't so lucky."
"What's his name?" Sid asked.
She peered at the screen on the computer. "John Haverly."
Sid chuckled with glee. "Keep digging. I need to know where he is now."
"Digging," Mary said, hitting the "search" button once more.
***
In the office of Remington Stele, Remington was talking into the telephone. "Okay, Agatha. Just keep the children close to the house- what's that?" he asked, straining to hear through the connection. "Let me speak with her." His eyes met Laura's. "Megan."
Laura rolled her eyes and went to join Tony, Mildred and Edward in the conference area as they planned their evening's activities.
"Hello, Daddy," Megan said. "Are you and Mom coming home soon?"
"Not for awhile yet, Megan. We have some things to take care of here first."
"Oh. Tomorrow's Christmas Eve-"
"I know. And hopefully all of this will be wrapped up by then. But right now, I need you and your brothers to stay in the house and not go wandering about, okay?"
"Is something wrong, Daddy?" she asked, and he silently cursed the fact that his daughter had her mother's instincts.
"Your mother and I will just feel better if we know you're safe and sound, okay? I want your promise, Megan, that you'll do as I ask."
He heard her sigh deeply. "I promise."
"Good girl. I have to go. Talk to you later, okay? Give the boys a hug for us. Love you."
"I love you," she said.
Remington hung up the telephone and joined the others, rubbing his hands together as the surveyed the building plans. "At least we have a heads up on the security at Cameron's building and house- considering that we oversaw their installation," he pointed out.
"You realize that Cameron might have put everything on the computer," Edward noted. "And if that's the case, since I doubt Tony is a computer whiz-"
"Not really," Tony said.
"And neither am I-"
"Don't let him kid you," Mildred laughed, placing an arm around Edward's shoulders as she sat on the edge of the sofa. "He can handle it. You ought to see him on the computer at home. Puts me to shame."
"There you go," Edward said, smiling at her. "Giving up my secrets." He pressed a light kiss into her palm. "So. Why don't we all go for a bite to eat before setting out for out little adventure?" he suggested. "My treat."
"No so fast," Jessica said from the doorway.
Everyone was on their feet immediately as they turned to look at her. "Jessica," Laura said. "I didn't hear you come in-"
"Terri was gone- and I was about to leave for the day- I just need to ask Antony something-"
"We'll leave you-" Laura began, but Jessica shook her head.
"That's not necessary," the lawyer said, her blue eyes on Tony. "Did you go to see Dr. Fletcher today?"
"Yeah-" Tony said.
"And- what did he say?"
"He didn't say much of anything," Tony answered. "He was dead when I got there."
"When you got there? Are you certain of that?"
"Laura and I were with him, Jessica," Remington said. "Fletcher was dead when we found him. Antony had no time to get there on his own before hand."
Jessica sagged slightly, and Tony rushed to put an arm around her for support. "Oh my."
"Someone suggested that Tony killed the doctor?" Mildred asked.
Jessica nodded as she sat down. "Thank you," she said as Laura brought her a glass of water. "Yes."
"Let me guess," Tony said. "Cameron. That son of a-"
"He told me that you'd gone to see him, and told him that you were going to get the truth out of Fletcher even if you had to squeeze it out of him- Philip said that you threatened him as well."
"Damn right I threatened him," Tony said, kneeling before the chair. "Jess, I didn't kill Fletcher. One of Cameron's men did to keep him from talking."
"There's still no evidence, Antony- nothing that points directly at Philip as the villain of the piece."
"He's a manipulator, hon," Mildred told her. "Knows how to find people's weak spots and use them. Why do you think he told you that story about Tony and the doc?"
"I can't believe that I could have been so wrong," Jessica said quietly.
"You were taken in just like we all were, Jessica," Remington said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm having dinner with him tonight- I'm not sure that I can after-"
"You have to," Laura insisted, and Jessica looked up at her. "It's important that he think nothing's wrong, Jessica. That he think you're still blissfully ignorant of the truth."
"Why?" Jessica asked, and then her eyes fell upon the building plans on the coffee table. "Oh, no. You're not planning on-"
"The less you know, Jess, the better," Tony responded. "I don't like the idea of you being with that guy- if there was another way-"
"I'll be fine," Jessica said. "We have reservations for Ché Rive at-"
"At nine," Remington finished. "I called Claude a little while ago," he said.
"Mr. Steele!" Sid Blake called out, rushing into the office, only to stop as he saw Jessica's concerned face. "Miss Beecham. I have that information you were asking for, Mr. Steele," he told Remington.
"You can talk freely, Sid," Laura said. "Jessica knows what's going on."
"Oh." He watched as Tony rose, placing a hand on Jessica's shoulder.
"What'd you find?"
"Fifteen years ago, Philip Cameron was accused of tax-evasion. He was never charged, but his accountant, John Haverly, went to prison for ten years, saying that it was all his doing, that Cameron had no idea what was going on. Cameron paid the back taxes and the penalty and came out smelling like the proverbial rose."
All eyes had turned to Mildred as Sid spoke. "Do you recall that case, Mildred?"
"Sorry, Chief. Fifteen years is a long time. It probably wasn't my case."
"Do you know where John Haverly is now, Sid?" Edward wanted to know.
"Oaklawn Cemetery," he answered with a frown.
"Great."
"He was killed three days after he got out of prison by a hit and run driver," Sid continued. "The car and driver were never found."
"Another dead end," Tony fretted.
"Not necessarily, Mr. Roselli," Sid said, and was the center of attention now. "Haverly had a daughter. She was in college when Haverly went to prison. They didn't have a lot of contact- her parents were divorced. Haverly left everything to her."
"Do you have an address?" Mildred asked him.
Sid held it out. "Right here. San Jose."
"I think I've figured out what I'll be doing tonight," Mildred told the others, taking the address.
"You're not going alone," Edward said. "Sid-"
"I got nothing planned, Mr. Holt," the reporter assured him.
"Let's go get something to eat, then, shall we?" Edward suggested again.
"I can't," Jessica reminded them. "I have to go and get ready for my date this evening." She rose from the chair.
"Are you okay, Jess?" Tony asked.
"No, Antony, I'm not. I've just had my world turned up on its ear again. It's not a feeling I enjoy."
"I'll walk you downstairs," Remington told his sister. "I'll be right back," he told the others as they left the office.
"Poor kid," Mildred sighed. "She's not taking it well."
"And it's all my fault again," Tony said, shaking his head. "Damn."
"You're sure you want to do this?" Remington asked Jessica as they moved toward the elevators.
"I don't have much choice. If I cancel the evening, then you and the others won't be able to do whatever it is you're planning." She placed a hand on his chest. "I'll be fine, Remington. I just need to regroup. Gather my defenses as it were." The doors opened. "I can find my way from here. You just be careful."
"You too." He gave her a brief hug and then watched her enter the elevator and press the button that would take her downstairs. He waved as the doors closed, then put his hands into his pockets and turned back toward the office.
***
Jessica entered the loft and froze as she realized that she wasn't alone. Philip was sitting on the sofa, his gaze on the white flower box on the table. "Philip. What a surprise," she said.
"That makes two of us," he commented, sitting forward to touch the box. "So he sent you roses."
"That's just Antony," she said, putting her purse on the table and fluffing her hair, taking a moment to gather her defenses. "He tends to do things before thinking. I've made it clear to him that it's over, Philip."
"Do you think he believed you?" he asked.
"I don't know. I hope so."
Philip's eyes were on her, studying her, then he smiled and rose to his feet to approach her. "So do I. I have tickets to that movie you wanted to the other day-"
"Really?" she asked.
"I thought we might go and see it before we have dinner."
"That sounds wonderful," Jessica said. "Let me change-"
His hands tightened on her shoulders, preventing her from moving away. "Are you sure everything's okay? You seem- tense."
"It's just been a long day, Philip," she told him truthfully and managed a smile before leaning forward to give him a kiss. "I won't be a moment."
***
Mildred and Sid knocked on the door of the house, and waited a couple of minutes for it to be answered. The dark haired woman who opened the door looked uncertain. "Can I help you?"
"Justine Haverly?" Mildred asked.
"Who wants to know?"
Mildred showed the woman her license. "I'm Mildred Krebs. I work for Remington Steele Investigations. I'd like to ask Ms. Haverly some questions about her father."
"My father's been dead for five years, Miss Krebs," Justine Haverly said.
"Did he leave any papers?" Sid asked.
"Who are you?"
"Sid Blake," he said, extending his hand, and Mildred jumped in before he could say more.
"An associate," she said. "Miss Haverly, it's important. There's a possibility that your father's death wasn't an accident."
Justine stepped back to let them into the house. "What do you mean? He was run down on the street-"
"It's possible that it had something to do with the ten years he spent in prison. How well did you know your father?"
"Not well. My parents divorced when I was ten. Father lived here, mom and I back East. He sent money, but he wasn't there. Mom died about the time I started college, and after that he started writing letters. Not much in them, really, but I wasn't really interested, after all those year that he ignored me, I guess. Then, just before he was arrested, he sent me a box with a note asking me to keep it safe for him. That I wasn't to let *anyone* have it- or open it myself. That when he could, he'd retrieve it."
Mildred was excited. "Do you still have it?"
Justine shook her head. "No. Father showed up on my doorstep the day after he was released and asked for the box, said he'd see me soon." Her eyes became distant. "That was the last time I saw him until the police called me to identify his body."
"He didn't have the box?" Sid questioned.
"No. The only thing he had was-" she stopped and went to a computer sitting on the desk. From deep inside the cabinet, she pulled out a square plastic box. "This."
Mildred took it as Sid frowned. "A compact disk?" he said.
"What's on it?" Mildred asked.
"I have no idea. Oh, I tried. But it's password protected. And I've tried every password I could think of to get into it. Course, I'm not much on the computer. I'm lucky to be able to get online and check my e-mail."
"I know what you mean," Sid commiserated.
"Would you mind if - I gave it shot?" Mildred asked, her eager eyes on the disk in her hands.
Justine waved her toward the computer and turned it on. "Be my guest."
Mildred slipped the disk into the drive and opened it, expecting the password box to come up. "Okay, what was your father's birthday?" she asked.
Justine told her. After trying a few variations, Mildred asked, "What about yours?"
"I've tried all those, Miss Krebs," she said. "And social security numbers and phone numbers. My name, his, even mother's."
Mildred typed a few generic passwords into the box as Sid spoke. "What about some of the people you father mentioned in his letters?" he suggested.
"There weren't many. He was working for Philip Cameron-" Justine stopped, frowning. "Didn't I read that Mr. Steele's sister is engaged to Cameron?"
"Yes, she is," Mildred confirmed, still trying to crack the password.
"Who else besides Cameron?"
"Mostly the letters were about Mrs. Cameron," Justine told them. "She'd just died, and Father seemed to take her death really hard."
"Margaret Cameron?"
"He called her Maggie," Justine told them.
Sid looked at Mildred, who typed the name into the box. "Bingo! We're in!"
Sid and Justine looked over Mildred's shoulder as they viewed the scanned documents, each more damning than the last. "Dear God," Justine breathed softly. "He took the fall."
"Apparently," Sid agreed. "Does he mention where the box is, Mildred?" he asked.
"Yeah." Mildred looked up at Justine. "Ms. Haverly, would you mind if Sid and I retrieved that box?"
"What are you going to do with it?" Justine asked, reaching over Mildred to press the "down" key, continuing to read.
"It could be evidence in a case," Mildred answered. "Would you like to clear your father's name?"
"He was guilty. He even admits that here."
"But he wasn't totally at fault," Sid reminded her. "He was only following orders."
"Famous last words, Mr. Blake." Justine read a few. "Okay. If Philip Cameron was guilty, he deserves whatever he gets."
****
Tony led the way through the air vent, pausing as they reached an intersection to consult the map in his hand using a penlight. "Left."
"I'm getting to old for this," Edward sighed as he followed the younger man.
"You and me both," Tony whispered, stopping at a grate and looking through to the room beyond. "Here we go. Cameron's private office."
"You remember the security layout?"
"Twenty seconds once we get inside," Tony nodded, easing the cover from the vent. "Stay here."
Edward watched as Tony went across the room to the book on the credenza and opened the cover to reveal the security keypad. He attached the decode device and turned it on- watching the second hand on his watch tick ever closer to the deadline.
The sixth number fell into place with a millisecond to spare, and Tony took a deep breath as he disconnected the decoder. "It's clear, Edward."
Edward lowered himself to the floor and joined Tony. "You take care of the safe," he said, and sat down at the computer. "I'll see what I can find in here."
Tony knelt before the credenza and opened the front to find the safe. Putting the small black box on it, he turned the knob slowly.
Edward got past Cameron's password easily. Too easily, he thought. There wouldn't be anything of value in here. A financial icon drew his attention and he clicked it, examining the screen as it came up. Clicking through several more, he frowned. "Something interesting?" Tony asked.
"Could be. Six apparently unconnected accounts, all with relatively small withdrawals to one single account."
"What account?"
"A numbered account in the Caymans. Almost impossible to trace."
Tony opened the safe and removed the contents, looking through them in the light from the computer screen. "His will. Stocks-" he held up a computer disk. "What's this?"
Edward took the disk. "Let's find out." He opened the disk and then whistled softly. "Damn."
"What is it?" Tony asked.
"What we're looking for," Edward said. He printed the deposit report, and pulled the disk from the drive to put it into his pocket. "Put the rest back into the safe."
***
Laura stood nervously near the door as Remington pressed his ear to the safe. "Hurry up," she hissed, then turned as a soft "click" reached her ears.
Remington grimaced as he opened the door. "I'm out of practice."
Laura moved toward him. "Next time, I'll bring Megan. I think she could beat your speed."
"Don't remind me," he said, handing her some of the papers. "Anything?"
Laura shook her head. "No. I'll check the computer-" She started toward the desk, only to stop as she glanced into the trash can. "Looks like he had little fire in here earlier," she commented.
Remington stopped. "What?"
She bent to retrieve the charred remains of an envelope. It hadn't burned completely - half of it was still there, buried under other ashes. "He must have been interrupted by something," she told Remington, pulling the scorched page out to try and read it in the dim light. "Ohhh, my."
"What is it?" Remington asked.
"Close the safe and let's get out of here. I think we have what we're looking for."
***
Jessica started to open the door of the Porsche, but Philip reached across to stop her. "Jessica, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. Really. I'm just- tired. That's all."
"You've been saying that. How come I don't believe you? Tell you what, why don't we go back to my place for a nightcap? I think we need to talk."
"I'm not really in the mood to talk, Philip."
He looked as if he might argue the point, but finally nodded. "Very well. I'll see you tomorrow." Leaning forward, he gave her a long kiss.
"Good night, Philip."
"Get some sleep. Things will be better tomorrow. I promise."
Jessica got out of the car and went toward the building, aware that Philip was still sitting at the curb, watching. He was still there when she turned on the light in the loft and went to the window. She waved, and he put the car into gear, pulling away from the curb.
She turned to look at the telephone, willing it to ring.
***
Megan stood in the dark bedroom, looking out. Suddenly, she pointed. "See?"
Daniel looked in the direction she was pointing. "No- wait a minute. Yeah. I saw a light."
"I've been seeing them for ten minute. Around the garage."
"What are you two up to?" Katherine asked from the doorway.
"Aunt Katherine," Daniel said, gulping, his eyes wide at being caught out by their great aunt.
"I thought you were supposed to be in bed?" Katherine asked, coming further into the room, leaning heavily on her silver topped, ebony walking stick. Her hand reached for the light switch, and Megan spoke.
"Don't turn on the light, Aunt Kitty," she begged, using her father's pet name for his mother's sister.
The hand fell, and Katherine came closer. "Why not? You're up to something, Megan Abigail Steele. I can tell. You've got the same look your father does when he's trying to keep something from me. And calling me Kitty won't get you out of it."
"There's someone down there," Megan said, and Katherine moved closer to the window.
"Where?"
"Near the garage. I think I saw a light in Harley's apartment."
"Are you certain it wasn't your imagination?"
"I saw lights too, Aunt," Daniel confirmed.
Katherine looked at the two children and then back at the grounds below. "Perhaps we should call your parents." She went to the extension and picked it up, then frowned, pressing the switch hook a few times. "How odd."
"What's wrong, Aunt Katherine?" Daniel asked in a frightened voice.
"The telephone is dead."
To Be Continued…