"How can you tell?" Laura asked.
"Not again," Remington moaned.
"I had the hotel set exactly enough places for us. There's one over there that's unused."
Laura looked at Remington, who stood up, touching a spoon to his water glass to gain everyone's attention. "I need to find out who's not here. I want everyone to look around -"
"Mr. Flannery," someone said. "From Texas."
Laura looked at the list of names. "John Flannery, Room 201."
As she rose, the others started to do the same, but Remington held up his hands. "She's going to call Lt. Craig," he told them. "The Lieutenant has asked that he be called before we do anything else."
"He might have overslept," Elliot Tedford pointed out. "I think someone should go and check. Why don't you and Mr. Micheals go up, Mr. Steele?"
Remington looked at Murphy, who frowned and stood up. "After you, Mr. Steele."
"I just have a problem with things coming too easy to people, that's all. And I'm getting a little tired of looking at the LA papers and finding another picture of you reporting another case solved by the great Remington Steele. Especially when I know that Remington Steele doesn't exist."
"Fair enough. It's not me as much as my taking the credit for solving a case -"
"And the person who did most of the work gets zilch," Murphy said as they stopped before Flannery's room. He lifted his hand to knock, only to have the door open under his fist. "Mr. Flannery?" Murphy called. There was no answer, and Murphy started forward.
Remington stopped him. "I think we should wait, Murphy -"
"So you have an audience?" Murphy asked, pulling his arm away and going into the room. Remington's jaw set upon hearing Murphy's remark as he hovered in the doorway. "Get in here, Steele," Murphy said. "Just don't touch anything.
John Flannery was on the floor beside the bed. "He's dead?"
"Yeah," Murphy confirmed as he knelt beside the man. He the wound in the man's back. "Shot through the heart, I'd say." There was a pillow nearby with powder burns and a hole in it. "The killer must have used this to muffle the gunshot. And his body's not cold, yet. He hasn't been dead very long - and he was already dressed, so he was ready to go downstairs - "
"Very good, Mr. Micheals," Lt. Craig drawled from the doorway, an officer at his back. "I thought we agreed-"
"The door was open," Remington explained."
"Go back downstairs, tell everyone that I want them back in their rooms for questioning. The coroner's right behind me. Any sign of the gun?"
"Nothing," Murphy responded.
"If the pattern in the other murders hold," Remington said, "One of the others will find it in their room."
Turning, Laura frowned at Sybil. "Apparently so."
"You know, I'm very glad that I'm not a P.I., after all. Very dangerous business. I suppose I should be grateful to you for not backing me up with Alan."
"Backing you up?" Laura asked, eyes wide. "What was there to back up? You nearly cost me MY liscense." She saw Remington and Murphy approaching. "Excuse me, Sybil."
"Of course. Do be careful, Laura. I'd hate for something to happen to you- or that dishy husband of yours." She glided off toward the restaurant.
"He's was shot, Laura," Remington said. "Where did everyone go?"
"They're still in the conference room, waiting for some word about Mr. Flannery."
"It was in Lee Thompson's room. He claims never to have seen it- and I tend to believe him, since the serial number has been filed off - and his prints aren't on it. Besides which, Thompson has an alibi for the murder -"
"An alibi?" Murphy asked.
"He was in the hotel swimming pool- and there were ten other people there that can back him up."
"That's a relief," Laura said. "I didn't think Lee would be capable of murdering anyone."
"You know Mr. Thompson?" Lt. Craig asked.
"We worked together years ago," she confirmed.
Craig shook his head. "I've got to admit, Mr. Steele, that this case has me stumped. None of the victims knew each other, had ever worked together - there was no reason for anyone to kill them- "
"Then I'd suggest you start looking for a tie between the people whose rooms the murder weapons were found," Remington suggestes as his attention was caught by a page for Remington Steele, asking him to pick up a lobby phone. Worried that it might be Agatha, that something was wrong with the children, Remington told Laura, "I'll be right back."
"Alright, let's look for that link that Mr. Steele mentioned," Craig said. "You and Mr. Micheals know each other - he used to work for Mr. Steele."
"Yeah. For Mr. Steele," Murphy confirmed.
"And what about Mr. Thompson?"
Laura nodded. "At the Havenhurst Agency. The three of us started our training there."
"Started?"
"Lee left Havenhurst after a misunderstanding with Alan - our boss. He finished his apprenticeship in San Diego."
"So all three of you were at Havenhurst."
At Craig's statement, both Laura and Murphy looked at each other. "Sybil," Murphy said. "And she's left handed."
"Sybil?" asked Craig.
He turned slightly to smile nervously at Sybil Blaylock. "Miss Blaylock. What-"
She jabbed the gun farther into his side. "I need to talk to you, Mr. Steele -"
"At gunpoint?"
"Just to make certain you listen. Why don't we go upstairs to my room where we won't be disturbed?" She linked her right arm through his, the gun still in her left, hidden by their arms. "Now, Mr. Steele."