The ferry arrives in Ireland, depositing Laura, Steele, Tony, and Mildred on the quay. "Didn't the wire say someone would meet us?" Laura asks Steele.
"Well, perhaps they weren't expecting such a large group," Steele says pointedly, glaring at Tony, who glares back.
"I'll get the bags," Tony offers.
"I'll keep an eye on him," Mildred tells Steele.
"Thank you, Mildred," he says.
"Don't you find it least bit uncomfortable," he asks Laura, "having a murderer along on our honeymoon?"
"He told us he was set up," Laura reminds him. "I'm sure he'll give us the details in due time."
"The only details he's given us for the last four hours concerns his career in minor league baseball," Steele grumbles.
"Patience is a virtue, Mr. Steele," she tells him, patting him on the chest.
"Isn't it just?" he says as Mildred and Tony return with the luggage.
"Any sign of our ride?" Tony asks.
"Not yet," Laura says.
"Some royal treatment," Mildred laughs.
Laura collars a baggage cart man. "Excuse me, could you give us directions to Glen Cree?"
"Glen Cree, is it?" he asks, as a couple of dock workers over hear and approach. "Aye, you must be after a spot of trout fishin'," he says.
"No, no, no, no," Steele clarifies. "We're tryin' t'get to Ashford Castle."
"Ashford Castle," one of the workers says. "That's a wee bit north of Glen Cree."
The baggage man tells him, "Not by way of Glen Caron."
"Nobody said Glen Caron," another man says.
"We're trying to get to Glen Cree," Laura says again.
The third man smiles. "Aye, y'must be after a bit of trout fishin', then."
"No, no, no, no," Steele says again. "We need the directions to Ashford Castle."
"That's a wee bit north of Glen Cree," he tells them.
"We know that," Mildred says.
"Glen Cree is a wee bit east of Glen Caron," the baggage man tells the other workers.
"How do you get to Glen Caron?" Laura asks.
"Do y'see that road over there?" the second young man asks. "Well, don't be takin' it."
Laura sighs in frustration.
A short little man wearing a bowler hat, with a pipe in his mouth, says, "Glen Cree? This way." He moves off.
They follow him to a vintage Rolls Royce limo, where he stands beside another man. "Mickeline O'Flynn," he identifies himself. "Major domo, Head factotum, Chief of Staff, at your service, your lordship." He tips his cap.
"Terrence O'Riley," the other man, wearing a chauffeur's uniform says, "Principal chauffer, Assistant mechanic. Associate Senior Transportation Captain. A great pleasure it is sir, to meet your American lordship."
"It's a pleasure to be met, my good man," Steele assures him. "Yes. A pleasure indeed. Yes." Laura's glowering already as Steele tells her, "You and Mildred could learn a thing or two from these people, you know that." He's smiling, delighted.
"This way, your lordship," Mickeline tells him, indicating the car.
"Thank you. Thank you."
They drive through the countryside, finally turning into the entrance to Ashford Castle. There are servants lined up outside of the entrance when the car stops. Mickeline gets out and comes around to open the door for them. "Ah, thank you," Steele says.
"This way, your lordship," the little man says.
Mickeline goes to the line of servants and announces, "The new lord and master has arrived." They all follow his lead and applaud Steele's arrival.
Laura's frown deepens, while Steele's smile gets wider. "Thank you, thank you," he says as they start down the line. "I think I've found my true calling, Laura," he tells her.
"Just don't expect me to call you 'your lordship'," she warns him.
"No, certainly not. No. We'll save the pet names for the bedroom, eh?" he asks, smiling at her.
She glares at him.
Inside the hall, Mickeline says, "Your lordship must be tired after his long journey. Would you like me t'show you to your chambers?"
Steele removes his coat, still smiling. "Excellent idea, Mickeline."
Mickeline tells another butler, "Show the other guests to the East Wing."
"We have our own wing?" Mildred asks, impressed.
"This way, your lordship," Mickeline tells Steele, who holds his arm out for Laura to take as he turns to follow the little man.
Mickeline shows them into a huge master bedroom with a raised canopy bed. "The master bedroom," he informs them.
"Very nice," Laura notes.
"Yes," Steele agrees, eyeing the bed. "Very nice indeed."
"It's a bit chilly in here," Laura tells Mickeline.
"I'll look after it right away," he promises. "Is there anything else you need?" he asks.
"No," Steele says quickly. "Not at the moment, Mickeline. Thank you very much," he says, ushering the man to the door.
"Uh, you'll be sure t'let me know, now, won't you?"
"Oh, you have my solemn oath," Steele promises, and closes the door. "You know, Laura, this place is beginning to grow on me. I don't think we should be so anxious to sell. I mean, after all, a man's castle is his home."
"It does have a definite romantic charm," Laura tells him, moving toward the bed.
"Yes, it does, doesn't it?" he asks, tossing his jacket onto the bed as he follows her. "Speaking of romantic charm, if my memory serves me well, we still have some unfinished business to attend to," he tells her, watching in anticipation as she removes her coat and sits close to him on the end of the bed.
"And what would you be hankerin' after, you swift talkin' American?" she asks with an Irish accent.
"A-magical moment, captured in a - worthy setting," he tells her as they lay back on the bed, kissing. There's a knock on the door, and he looks up, and then pats her leg. "Don't lose the mood," then goes to the door and opens it.
An unshaven, rough looking man removes his cap and smiles. "Liam O'Malley, your lordship. Senior steam engineer."
"Steam engineer," Steele repeats, obviously wanting to get back to Laura.
"Sounds a little bit grander than furnace man," Liam explains. "Mickeline O'Flynn was tellin' me it's heat you'd be needin'?"
"Uh, yes," Steele agrees. "It's a bit nippy in here."
"Yes, well, I'd be glad t'stoke up the furnace, your lordship, if you'd just- attend t'this little heating bill." He holds out a slip of paper.
Steele smiles. "Oh, yes, absolutely." He opens it and frowns, seeing that it's marked overdue and is in the amount of 98,000 pounds. He whispers to Liam, "Ninety-eight thousand pounds?"
"Yeah, well, there's a lotta rooms in the castle, your lordship."
Steele folds the paper and pulls a coin out of his pocket. "Yes, well, I'm sure there are, my good man. Here you go. There you go."
"Oh, fifty p," Liam says, smiling.
"Yes, consider it a down payment," Steele says. "There you go." He closes the door and starts back to Laura, glancing at the bill in disbelief. Putting it away, he sits down again.
"Trouble in the boiler room?" she asks.
"Yes, well, I've always liked a brisk castle," he tells her, pulling her into his arms again.
"Well, I suppose we could generate our own heat," Laura suggests.
"Yes," he agrees. "Where were we now?" They kiss again and barely lay down before there's another knock.
"That's where we were," Laura sighs, sounding frustrated.
Steele gets up again and slides across the wood floor to the door. "Brian O'Casey, Chief butler, Supervising steward, Senior chamberlain," the man who's there tells him.
"Congratulations," Steele says.
"The chef has prepared a small repast," he tells Steele, "which awaits your lordship's pleasure in the main dining room."
Steele looks at Laura, who's sitting on the platform. "What the hell," she says. "Let's eat." She leads the way out of the room.
In the main dining room, Tony and Mildred are already seated when they arrive. Laura and Steele are seated at opposite ends of a very long table, with a servant behind each chair, waiting to serve.
"Look what I found in the library, Boss," she says, holding up a heavy volume.
"What's that, Mildred?" he asks.
"A book on your castle. This place goes all the way back to the twelfth century."
"Is that so?" Steele asks. "It gives one pause, doesn't it? Eh? To be an immortal part of history."
Laura shakes out her napkin.
"Are you ready to be served, your lordship?" Mickeline asks.
"Always ready, Mickeline. Always ready."
The little man rings a silver bell, and from the kitchen come four servants carrying silver domed silver trays. The trays are placed before each person, and then the other servant lifts the lid, to reveal a single potato on each plate. A small single potato.
Everyone looks at their plate. "He said a small repast," Laura says.
"Must be the appetizer," Mildred guesses.
Steele, arms folded, turns to look at Mickeline, who shakes his head negatively. Steele considers the potato again, and then picks up a paper beside his plate. Rising, he says, "I'll see to this." He goes out into the entry hall, Mickeline behind him. Opening the paper, he reads it and asks Mickeline, "Eighty-seven thousand pounds- for groceries?"
"Lot o'stomachs in a castle," Mickeline tells him.
"Why do I get the distinct impression that no one's paid a bill around here for the last fifty years?" Steele asks.
"Fifty-nine, to be exact," Mickeline informs him.
Steele looks at the bill again, and then folds it. "Tell me this, Mickeline, if no one's been paid for the past fifty-nine years, why do they stay?"
"Well, the way we look at it, sir, havin' a job that doesn't pay, is better than havin' no job at all."
"Yeah," Steele nods. "Yeah. That's an interesting perspective," he says, scratching his cheek before returning to the dining room. He claps his hands together as he heads toward his chair. "Well. Shall we take a tour of the grounds?" he asks.
Laura looks at him, surprised, and then at the window as something outside catches her eye.
"When do we chow down, Boss?" Mildred asks him.
Steele, standing beside his chair, tells her, "We just did."
"A boiled potato?" she asks.
"Nouvelle cuisine," he informs her. "Speciality of the castle. Mustn't overload the palate." He looks at Laura, who returns her attention to him. "Shall we?" he asks her, coming toward her chair.
"Could you get my sweater, dear?" she asks him. "I left it in the room. It's- under my pink teddy?" She smiles up at him.
Steele's a bit flustered by the "pink teddy". "Anything for my new bride," he tells her, and leaves the room.
Laura picks up her fork, takes a bite of the potato, then puts her fork and napkin aside. "I'm stuffed," she decides. "Excuse me." She gets up and leaves Mildred and Tony sitting there.
Laura comes up behind Daniel Chalmers as he hides behind a flower bush, looking into the dining room windows. "Most guests prefer the front door, Mr. Chalmers," she says, letting him know she's there.
He turns and looks at her. "Linda. What a pleasant surprise."
Laura folds her arms. "It's still Laura. And what are you doing out here, lurking about?"
"It's my job to lurk," he reminds her. "Have you forgotten I'm Chief of Security for the Earl of Claridge, God rest his soul? When I learned the new lord was arriving, I jetted in post haste."
"And you have absolutely no idea who the new lord is?"
"I'm sure I'll meet him soon enough."
"The only reason you ever turn up is to recruit Mr. Steele for one of your hair-brained schemes," she accuses.
"How is Harry these days?" he asks, beginning to cough.
"You can forget the black lung bit. The sympathy ploy has been tried- and it doesn't work. He's mine, now."
"What hold could you possibly have on Harry?" Daniel asks.
She leans closer to tell him, "We're married."
"Really?" He raises a brow. "For better? Or for worse?"
Laura scowls in disapproval.
Carrying Laura's sweater, Steele comes down the stairs, whistling. Tony stops him. "Guess you were pretty sure you'd seen the last of me, huh?"
Steele looks at him. "I must admit, I never expected the pleasure of your company here in Ireland."
"Yeah, well, uh, just how far did you go to see that I wouldn't be around?" Tony asks.
Steele rests his hand on the doorway and says, "There's a nuance here that escapes me."
Tony gives him a threatening look. "Funny thing Helmsley didn't shoot at you-he shot at me."
"You were the master spy," Steele tells him. "I was just the messenger boy." He turns to leave, but Tony grabs his arm.
"Yeah. But if he found out he was being set up-He should have come after the both of us."
"Luck of the Irish," Steele suggests.
"You didn't let anything- slip, did you?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"Then how'd he figure out I was onto him?" Tony wants to know.
"Intelligence can be a leaky business at best," Steele reminds him.
"Maybe. But I'll make you a promise. If I find out you fingered me, I'm gonna have to kill you." He walks away.
Steele watches him go, then goes to the dining room to find Laura- but the only person there is a uniformed maid, polishing silver, humming to herself. "Bridgett O'Leary, your lordship," she tells him, curtseying. "Senior domestic coordinator."
"Oh. Nice to meet you, Bridgett." He looks around. "Uh, where's my wife?"
"I believe she went outside. In a hurry, she was."
"Thank you," he says, and turns back toward the door.
Bridgett runs around the table to catch him. "Before you be rushin' off, there's a wee matter that calls for your immediate attention," she says, pulling yet another bill from her pocket and handing it to him.
He reluctantly takes it and opens it. "Twenty-seven thousand pounds for polish?" he asks.
"Lots of silver in a castle."
He puts a coin into her palm. "Try stainless," he suggests, and leaves her to examine the coin.
Mildred is in the kitchen, searching, when he enters. "The cupboards are bare, chief," she says. "What gives?"
"Cash flow crisis, Mildred. Listen, tell me this: how's the real estate market in castles these days?"
"Lousy. This joint's been on the market since 1532."
Steele nods. "Hmm humm. Perhaps it's time to change brokers, eh?" he asks, turning to leave there.
He finds Laura with another man, looking at some roses. "There you go, Mrs. Steele," he says, handing her the sweater.
"Sean O'Gleason, your lordship," the man says. "Senior landscape architect. Have y'stopped to- smell the roses lately?" he asks, handing Steele a rose- around which is wrapped another bill. Laura smells of her rose and then looks at him as he opens it.
"Yes. A familiar scent indeed," Steele notes. "Yes, well, come along, Mrs. Steele," he says, drawing Laura away with him. "Let's not keep the man from his bush." Once they're alone, he says, "Now, about our uninvited guest-"
"What's the latest crackpot campaign he's come up with?" Laura asks, thinking he's talking about Daniel.
"The latest is, that he intends to kill me," Steele tells her.
She looks confused. "Kill you? Who are you talking about?"
"Tony. Who are you talking about?"
"Harry!" Daniel calls, approaching them, smiling.
"Daniel. What brings you to Ashford Castle?" Steele asks, surprised.
"You do, my boy," Daniel tells him. "I'm your Chief of Security."
"Ah, yes, of course," Steele says with a knowing grin. "Lots of locks in a castle." Laura frowns.
"Might I suggest a tour of your holdings?" Daniel says.
"Uh, yes, of course," Steele agrees. "That's a splendid idea, Daniel." He holds an arm out to Laura. "Shall we, Mrs. Steele?"
She takes his arm, and looks at Daniel before telling Steele, "I'll leave you two to your holdings." She gives him a kiss, and then tells him, "Don't be long, dear," as she smiles victoriously at Daniel.
"No," he promises her, placing a hand to his mouth. "No." He joins Daniel and they watch Laura walk away. "She's turned into quite a girl, hasn't she, Daniel?"
"Um," Daniel grunts. "They always do until they get what they want. Shall we?"
Steele follows, his look uncertain.
Inside the castle, the two men walk through various rooms as Daniel tells Steele, "I understand you've done some settling down since our paths last crossed."
"Um humm," Steele nods.
"I didn't think you were the marrying kind."
"Wedlock has distinct advantages," Steele tells him.
"Indeed. I must say, I never could understand your attraction to Linda-"
"Laura," Steele corrects.
"Laura, Linda- there've been so many, it's hard to keep track. Do you remember the Contessa?" he asks.
Steele laughs. "Ah, yes. The one with the birthmark."
"You see? So many. Shame to tie yourself down to one."
"Ah, Daniel, damn you, you've always been such an incurable romantic. Now listen, tell me. About this security job- is it on the up and up, or are you intending to, uh- relieve the castle of all its treasures?"
"Oh, it's the straight and narrow for me, Harry," Daniel assures him. "Living on the edge can become a bit trying as a steady diet."
"Who would have thought it, eh? The two of us making an honest go of it after all these years?"
"Neither of us is getting any younger, my boy," Daniel points out.
"Tell me," Steele asks, "If you had to do it all again, would you change anything?"
Daniel laughs as he answers. "A few things. Here and there." He leaves the room, and Steele follows.
In the entryway, a costumed maid is scrubbing the floor with a bucket and brush. She stands up, curtseying. "And a good mornin' to ya, your lordship. Mary-Kate O'Donoher, at your service."
"Well, the floor's wet," Daniel notes, sounding a bit nervous. "We'll come back later." He starts to turn away, but Mary-Kate speaks again.
"No problem, sir," she assures him. "I don't mind cleanin' up after ya." She gets back onto her knees and starts scrubbing once more.
"You need to save your strength," Daniel tells her. "For the long walk home."
Steele looks at her. "Doesn't she live in the castle, then?"
"No. She's temporary. Just- passing through," Daniel tells him with a smile that fades when she looks up at him.
"Oh, I'll be around for awhile, sir. There's a lot o'work left undone."
Daniel's smile returns as he looks at Steele, and the two men cross the floor as Mary-Kate watches them.
Laura enters the master bedroom, and smiles as she sees someone beside the bed, looking into a cabinet. She closes the door and locks it before going over and grabbing the man. "Back from the tour so soon, you eager beaver?" she asks, pulling him onto the bed with her for a long kiss. She finally realizes that it's not Steele- but Tony, and ends the kiss. "Tony?"
"If I say yes, will we have to stop?" he asks, then kisses her again.
Laura pushes him away. "Let go of me," she says, getting off the bed. She goes to the window and opens it, trying to cool off. She turns back to look at him, only to find him rifling through the cabinet again. "What have you been doing?" she asks. The suitcases have been searched as well.
"I'll explain later," he tells her, going to another chest.
Laura crosses to grab his arm and stop him. "You'll explain *now*."
"I'm looking at fifty to life- unless I can prove I'm not a traitor," he tells her, and turns back to his search.
"What makes you think you can find proof here?" she wants to know. He doesn't answer, just closes the chest and crosses the room toward another. "I don't believe this. We take you in, hide you from the police, protect you from a murder rap we know nothing about, and now I find you tearing our room apart like a petty thief?" she slams a drawer, making him lift his hands to keep her from crushing them.
"After Steele gave Helmsley the documents, what happened?" he asks.
"Why do you want to know?"
"I'm trying to save my neck!" he tells her.
"We went to the police station."
"We came back to the hotel, packed, caught the train for the night boat to Dublin. You know the rest."
"Did he make any calls?"
"Did he ever leave your side?"
"You mean to tell me he never even went to the bathroom?"
"Iron kidneys," she tells him. "Now what's this all about?"
"Your husband sold me out to Helmsley."
Laura stares at him. "Why would he do that?"
Someone knocks at the door. "Laura?" Steele calls through the door.
"Why don't we both ask him?" Laura suggests, starting for the door.
Tony grabs her arm to stop her. "Do you really want him to find us in here? Together?"
She looks at the door, uncertain now, as Steele rattles the door. "Laura, why is the door locked?"
"Coming!" she calls out, removing Tony's hand from her arm and pulling him toward the window. He climbs onto the ledge. "Coming!" she calls again as Steele knocks. Tony leans down and gives Laura a kiss before vanishing.
Laura runs to the door and unlocks it. "Laura, what took you so long?" Steele asks as he enters to see that the room looks a bit tumbled. "Good lord, what mess," he comments.
"Just doing a little unpacking, dear," Laura tells him as he heads toward the open window. Laura follows right behind him as he leans out in time to see Tony leaping to the ground and running away.
"Rolling around the royal bedspread, your ladyship?" he asks her.
Flustered, Laura tries to explain. "It isn't what you think-"
"Yeah, well, no need to look so guilty, Laura," he says, then opens the newspaper he's carrying. "Your honeymoon hijacks pale in comparison to this."
Laura takes it and looks at Tony's picture on the front page with the headline, "Local Police Search for Double Agent". "Good Lord," Laura says.
In his room, Tony is reading the paper as well. He stuffs it under the bed, and leaves.
In another room, Daniel asks, "How did you find me?"
Mary-Kate (whose real name is Marissa), now wearing a more modern maid's costume, comes from behind a screen to check her stockings as she tells him- with no trace of her Irish accent, "You didn't think I'd give up just because you got an attack of wanderlust, did you?" She comes over for him to tie her apron.
Daniel smiles. "I was rather hoping you would."
She's not smiling. "I have a job to do."
"Well, as I told you, I'd really like to help you, but- something's come up that demands my- full attention."
She finally smiles and looks at him. "Fine. Just return the twenty-five thousand pounds I advanced you, and we'll forget about our bargain."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible."
She sits down on the bed to put on her shoes. "No twenty-five thousand."
"No, flown the coop."
"That's a quaint way of putting it."
"Name of a horse, actually. Unlucky nag."
She picks up the newspaper. "Cheer up, Daniel. Look what dropped into our lap."
Daniel looks at Tony's picture.
"All we have to do is trade Mr. Roselli for what we need," she tells him. "And I know just who to trade him to," she says. Daniel looks at her with a frown.
Steele is coming downstairs when he hears Bridgett humming as she approaches. "Oh, blast," he mutters, and ducks inside a room at the bottom of the stairs til she passes.
He comes out and finds Mickeline there, holding out another bill. "The Chief electrician asked me t'pass this along."
"Chief electrician," Steele says, opening it. "Ninety-six thousand pounds for electricity?"
"Lots o'lights in a castle, your lordship," Mickeline says with a smile.
"Remind me to look into solar energy," Steele tells him, then continues on his way.
Mickeline looks thoughtful.
Steele enters a room where Mildred is talking to someone on the phone. "You've been a big help," she says. "Thanks."
Steele rushes in and starts turning off the lights. "Mildred, Mildred, please, the room's ablaze!"
She stands up. "But it's getting dark."
"Well, break out the candles," he tells her. "Have you seen Antony?"
"He knows better than to get into my line of fire," she tells him.
"Good thought," he tells her, sitting down.
"Fire. Should the castle go up in flames- accidentally, of course- how much could we claim on the insurance?"
Mildred laughs. "Sorry, boss, they tried that in 1856."
"And- it's stone walls, three feet thick. There's no way you're gonna burn this baby down."
He glances out of the window. "Oh, God," he sighs. "Well, okay," he says, heading toward the door. "Oh. From now on, all phone calls are collect, Mildred. Heed me. All phone calls are collect." He leaves the room and goes outside where Terrence is waiting by the limo. "Terrence, my good man, by any chance might you know the whereabouts of my American friend?"
"He was needin' a ride to the village," Terrence tells him.
"I'll be needin' the same ride," Steele tells him, noticing that Terrence is reaching into his pocket. He stops. "But first- your bill."
"Ah, saints be praised for your American lordship," Terrence says, opening the door for him.
"Hm hmm," Steele mutters, and then gets into the car.
Laura finds Mildred in the dining room, turning out the lights. "Mildred, what are you doing?"
"The boss likes a dark castle," she explains.
"Where is he?"
"He left with the chauffer."
"Any idea where he was headed?" Laura asks.
"Beats me. Oh, but do I have some news about Daniel Chalmers. You know that line about Chief of Security? It's as phony as a four-leaf shamrock. According to the executor of the Earl's estate, Chalmers turned the job down."
Laura sighs and looks out of the window to see Marissa and Daniel getting into a car. "Chalmers," Laura muses. "Keep a light in the window, Mildred," she says, taking off.
"Will you settle for a candle?" Mildred calls after her.
In the village, Tony is on the telephone in a pub. The patrons are singing. "Great sound," Tony tells the barman. "Are you rehearsing for some kind of a show?"
"No," the man tells him. "Just regular folk. Farmers, tradesmen, the like."
"Then why are they singing?" Tony asks.
"They're Irish!" the man declares.
Tony's confused as he turns his attention to the phone. "Hello?"
"Tony!" the white haired man from London- whose name is Fitch- says, smiling. "Good to hear your voice again."
"What the hell are you so chipper about?" Tony asks. "My face is plastered all over the Irish papers."
"Well, newspapers do tend to somewhat run behind current events," Fitch notes. "Especially in our business."
"Don't give me a lesson on journalism. You said you'd clean things up!"
"Well, as a man of my word, I have done just that. We've located the documents. Helmsley had them all neatly boxed, waiting to be delivered to his Russian contact."
"Well, then, what am I doing hiding here in the bogs?" Tony asks.
"It's safe for you to come home," Fitch assures him. "Mother forgives you."
"That's swell, mom," Tony says. "Now just how do I get out of here?"
"Where are you?"
Tony looks at the barkeep. "Where am I?"
"I mean what city?"
"Well, it's not exactly a city. I suppose you could call it a town. Uh, but not a town by *your* standards. Well, I guess you'd call it a-"
"What's the name of it?!"
"Glen Cree, of course!"
"I'm in someplace called Glen Cree," Tony informs Fitch.
"That's good, Tony, that's fine. There's a house we used on an occasion not far from there- Um, I'll need a few hours to arrange things. Look, you give me your telephone number and I'll ring you back soon as everything is in order."
"The number is 86-42-9," Tony tells him.
"Tony, although I'm generally known as a most forgiving man, don't do anything precipitous," Fitch warns. "Because I promise you if you do, you will be returning to London- in a box." Tony hangs up.
Terrence pulls the limo up within sight of the pub, and Steele sits back, waiting.
At the Russian embassy, Daniel, now dressed as a butler, and Marissa show some IDs and are let into the compound. Laura parks her car down the road and climbs over a fence to gain access.
Daniel and Marissa enter the building and are stopped by man. "You! Where are you going?" he asks in a Russian accent.
"We're here t'see Secretary Kemadov about the serving arrangements for tonight," Daniel tells him with an Irish accent.
"Secretary Kemadov is a busy man. Too busy to waste his time with that," he declares as Kemadov enters the room.
"It's alright, Nicholai," Kemadov assures his aide. "Please," he says to Daniel and Marissa, indicating his office. Once in the office, he says, "So. You are here to make arrangements."
"In a manner of speaking," Daniel tells him, dropping the accent. Marissa opens her purse.
"On the telephone you mentioned something about a package," Kemadov reminds them, sitting down at his desk.
Marissa tosses the newspaper onto the desk before him. Kemadov picks it up. "Interested?" she asks.
"Double agents are always valuable," Kemadov admits. "I cannot accept damaged goods."
"He'll be alive," Marissa promises.
Kemadov looks at them with suspicion. "Are you good Marxists? Or do you have a more capitalist reward in mind?"
"Two years ago, an American businessman named Robert Peters was arrested for smuggling political refugees through the Iron Curtain. I want to know where he is," Marissa tells him. "Assuming he's still alive."
"Why this interest in a common political prisoner?"
"He's the young lady's father," Daniel explains.
"Of course, you realize," Kemadov warns, "I am merely First Secretary for Cultural Affairs."
"And we are merely domestics," Daniel replies.
"Officially, I know nothing about this Robert Peters."
"And unofficially?" Marissa asks.
"I'll see what I can find out," he tells her as the door opens and a guard pushes an angry Laura into the room.
The guard talks to Kemadov in Russian as Laura sees Daniel. "Well, well, what a coincidence."
"You know this woman?" Kemadov asks of Daniel.
"Tell them who I am!" Laura says as he hesitates.
"Where's you're identification?" Daniel questions, back to the Irish accent again.
"Pick up a badge at the front desk and get back to the kitchen were you belong," he orders.
The guard grabs her arm. "Wait a minute!"
"Take her to the kitchen," Kemadov tells the guard.
"You can't keep me in the kitchen forever!" Laura warns Daniel as she's pushed out of the room.
Daniel shakes his head. "Good help is so hard to come by."
"We have the same problem in my country," Kemadov tells him.
Steele is still watching the pub when Tony comes out. Steele gets out and tells Terrence, "I think I'll take a walk around your lovely village." He starts after Tony.
Tony's about to knock on the red door of a house when Steele asks, "Stopping by to have a drop of vodka with your Bolshevik buddies?"
"Everything's all straightened out now, okay?" Tony says, and turns back to the door.
Steele turns him back. "Not as far as I'm concerned, mate. Laura trusted you and you used her for your own traitorous means."
"*I* used her? You used her to keep from being deported. Where I come from, that's one step lower than a pimp."
Steele hits him, and the fight is on. Tony strikes first blood, and stands there as Steele gets up. "Come on," he urges as the townsfolk gather to watch. They jump onto a rolling hay cart that sends them across the courtyard, still fighting as they're dumped into a bed of hay. Steele tosses Tony into the pub, then stands to raise his arms in victory to the watchers, who cheer him on.
Steele follows Tony inside the pub, and then comes out- through the window, however. The pub patrons follow Tony out. "A fiver on the lad in grey!" one of them says, talking about Tony.
"You're covered, me boy-o!" another man agrees as Tony reaches down to pull Steele to his feet and hits him again, sending him into the waiting arms of the men. They toss him back into the fight.
He trips Tony and asks some men, "How are the odds?"
"Even money, me boy-o! Even money!" They push him back.
Steele finally lands the final punch, sending Tony into a watering trough, as a policeman appears to break things up. "Come on, break it up!" he says, looking at a half-conscious Steele. "Break it up!" Steele leans on him as he looks at Tony. "Ah, well, now. I think we've found our Russian bear!"
"The house," Tony tries to tell him. "The one with the red door. The people in that house can explain everything. I promise. Go ahead. Ask em!"
"This better not be a trick," the policeman warns him.
Tony shakes his head, and nearly falls when the policeman lets him go. Steele grabs him, and they lean against each other as the man heads toward the red door. He looks at Tony, then presses the bell- and the house explodes, killing the policeman and shocking Tony and Steele. The two men nearly fall to the ground.
"Given our past differences, Antony, I suggest a strategic retreat is in order."
"Why the hell can't you just say- RUN!" and they take off.
Steele and Tony hide behind a rock fence until some police cars pass by. "Well, Antony, what do you think of Ireland so far?" Steele asks.
"I think I owe you an apology," Tony says.
"Accepted," Steele tells him as he looks around. "Now you know I didn't set you up, any ideas who did?"
Tony nods. "The guy that sent me to that house. Fitch."
"It appears you dug up two moles for the price of one," Steele notes.
"Yeah. Only nobody's gonna take my word against his."
"High up in British Intelligence, then, is he?"
Steele laughs. "Ironic. Only you, me and-"
"Well, and the Russians, know you're innocent."
"Kemadov," Tony says.
"Obviously not an Irishman."
"A spy as high up as Fitch would only contact one man. Kemadov."
"How might we find Comrade Kemadov?" Steele asks.
"Soviet Embassy in Dublin. If I can get him to point the finger at Fitch, I might get out of this with my skin." He leaps up, about to bolt.
Steele pulls him back down. "Easy. Easy, now, bucko. Seein' as your face is as familiar as Paddy's pig, I think it might be wiser if *I* get a lay of the land?"
"You're saying you're gonna help me?"
"Well, seein' as how I'm already on the hook for harboring a fugitive, I don't see what difference it's going to make, kidnapping a KGB agent."
"Look, uh, that crack I made about you bein' lower than a pimp- I was outa line."
"Yes," Steele agrees. "You were." He climbs over the fence.
At the castle, Steele takes Tony back to his room. "All right, stay out of sight til I get back from Dublin. Lock the door."
Tony goes in and closes the door- only to be smacked in the head by Daniel.
"Safe and sound," Steele says in the hallway and turns to find Mickeline standing there
"Ah, excuse me, your lordship, there's a policeman downstairs who'd like t'ask ya some questions."
"Ah," Steele says.
"Will I show him in?" Mickeline asks.
"No. No, no, no. Just give me five minutes, and show him into the study, now. Downstairs. How's that?"
Mickeline nods and moves away. Steele takes off at a run for his room. He straightens his tie, then starts looking through the suitcase for something.
Wearing a smoking jacket and ascot, he shimmies down the drain pipe and passed the gardener. "Love your hydrangeas," he tells the man, continuing on his way. He climbs into the study window, grabs a pipe from a table, and a book and rushes to a chair, trying to catch his breath as Mickeline opens the door.
"Detective Inspector O'Brien, your lordship."
Steele nods. "Thank you, Mickeline. Thank you. Come in, Inspector. Good day to you, sir. Sean O'Casey," he says, talking about the book in his hands. "Shadow of a Gunman. Always leaves me breathless." He turns the book right side up, then closes it. "And, uh, what brings you to Ashford Castle, Inspector?"
O'Brien shows him the paper. "Have you seen this man, sir?"
Steele studies the picture, nodding sagely. "Oh, yeah. Beady eyes. Yes." He stands to show the Inspector what he means. "Look at that. Dishonest scowl. Obviously a hardened criminal."
"Well, he's wanted for espionage."
"And my men think they saw him headin' for your castle."
"Ah, well, we'll keep a weather eye out for him, Inspector," Steele assures the man. "And I'll tell you this," he adds, turning them toward the door, "if we get wind of any Communists up here, you shall be the first to hear about it, Inspector. Okay?"
"Thank you, sir."
"All right. Nice to meet you. Glorious day, isn't it?"
"Lovely. Thanks. You've been most cooperative." He takes his paper back.
Steele closes the door and leans against it, exhausted.
It's after dark when Laura returns to the castle. "Anybody home?" she calls out.
Mildred is reading a book by candlelight, a frightened look on her face. When Laura opens the door, she screams and stands up.
"Mildred, what's the matter?"
"Ghosts. The Boss's castle is haunted." She opens the book. "Here. Sir Dennis O'Keefe. Slain in the 14th century during the Battle of Omalgen, roams the castle when the moon is full, calling for his beloved Margaret-Mary."
"Speaking of free spirits, has Mr. Steele materialized?"
"He put on his tux and left."
"What about Daniel Chalmers?"
"He put on his tux and left, too." Laura turns to leave, but Mildred asks, "Oh, honey! What about Sir Dennis?"
"Tell him to put on his tux and follow the crowd."
Mildred sits down and starts reading again.
Laura goes up to Daniel's' room. She looks into his empty suitcase, then the bedside table. Finally, she makes her way to the chest of drawers and opens a couple of the drawers. Something she finds in the third one surprises her.
Guests arrive at the Soviet Embassy. Steele watches nearby, waiting. A man gets out of one of the cars, alone, and stops to light a cigarette. Steele runs up to him. "I hate to trouble you, but I seem to have dropped a cufflink just around the corner. Could I trouble you for a light, there?"
"Oui, m'sieu. Après vou," the Frenchman says, and they go around the building.
We hear someone being hit and falling, then Steele comes out of the bushes with an invitation. He approaches the guards at the doors and shows it to them. "Bon soir," he tells them as he enters.
In a room inside, a still conscious Tony lays on the floor, half encased in a sack, a gag over his mouth. "Your package," Daniel tells Kemadov. "As promised." Both men are wearing tuxedos.
"Excellent," Kemadov tells him.
"And now your part of the bargain, Secretary Kemadov?" Marissa asks. She's wearing an evening dress.
"We have no bargain until he talks," Kemadov tells them.
"My dear man, he can hardly say much while he's unconscious," Daniel points out.
"Then we will have to wait," Kemadov says.
Marissa's angry. "That was not part of the agreement."
"How do I know he's worth anything until we have a chance to chat?"
"And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Marissa wants to know.
"Try the caviar."
Steele is mingling with the guests when Daniel calls him. "Harry!"
"Ah, Daniel," he says, waiting for Daniel and Marissa to join him. "Rubbing elbows with our Eastern cousins?" he asks.
"I hadn't realized you went in for these- diplomatic soirees."
"Late invitation," Steele tells him. "I thought I'd see how the other side lives. You couldn't point out Secretary Kemadov, could you?"
"He's upstairs," Daniel says.
"Oh," Steele replies, looking at Marissa.
"Oh, where are my manners," Daniel says. "Countess Inga Olafsen, Mr. Remington Steele, private investigator, par exellance."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Steele," Marissa tells him in a faint Nordic accent.
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, I'm sure."
"The Countess has graciously called on me to escort her this evening," Daniel tells Steele.
"Haven't we met before somewhere, Countess?" Steele asks.
"Oh, I'm sure I would remember a face like yours."
"That's very kind of you to say that. But I'm sure we've met somewhere," he insists.
"I am a woman of many interests," she says.
Steele nods. "And many accents. I was rather partial to your Irish brogue, I must say."
"Didn't I make a convincing scrub woman?"
"You made one fatal mistake."
"What was that?"
"You were the only one that didn't present me with a bill. Tell me, Daniel, what are you doing here, by the way?"
"High stakes roulette, my boy," Daniel says, starting to cough.
"Really?" Steele comments.
"Damn Russian vodka. Sticks in the throat."
"Um humm," Steele nods.
"Ah, the Belgian attaché. Come along, my dear. Catch you later, Harry."
Steele watches them go, then sneaks upstairs, looking for Kemadov. He tries a couple of doors, but they're all locked. As he starts to move away, a moan comes from behind one of them. Steele picks the lock and goes inside. He opens the bag and finds Tony. "I thought I told you to lay low," Steele says, removing the gag.
"Then why didn't you stay at the castle?"
"I walked into my room, and the lights went out," Tony explains.
They hear someone coming, and Tony lays back down while Steele hides beside the door. Kemadov comes in, and frowns upon seeing that Tony's out of the bag. Steele hits him on the head, and looks out into the hallway.
"Now what?" Tony asks.
"Bag him," he says. Closing the door, he helps.
Daniel enters his room to find Laura sitting there, waiting for him. "Do you always make your security rounds dressed in black tie?" she asks.
"Even the help gets a night off, every now and then," he says, watching her.
"Why don't we drop the charade? I know you're not the Chief of Security. You turned the job down."
"You came here because you knew he'd be here, didn't you?"
Daniel coughs again. "The night air catches in the throat," he tells her. "If you'll excuse me, I really must turn in before I get a chill."
"It's not the Irish air," Laura says. "And it's not the Irish damp." She gets up and goes to the chest to open the drawer and set a bottle of pills on top of it. "You have more pills in here than a drugstore."
"Leave it to Linda to dig until she comes up with all the morbid little details."
She comes toward him. "I know you and I have had a- strained relationship at best-"
"We've always been vying for the same object," he tells her.
"Why don't we take off the gloves?" she suggests. "And talk truth for a change."
"I don't like the truth," he tells her. "I've spent my whole life dancing around its edges. You want the truth?" he asks, going to the chest. He digs into the bottles and drops them onto the top angrily. "Here it is. I'll take fantasy any day."
"I'm sorry," Laura says.
"No need. Harry will finally be yours. Irrevocably. Even a consummate artist at deception can't outfox the Grim Reaper." Laura looks stunned. "That satisfy your thirst for the truth?" he asks bitterly.
Laura takes a deep breath. "I found something else," she tells him, and opens a pocket watch that plays "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling".
"Pretty tune," Daniel comments.
"What are you doing with it?" she asks.
"It belonged to the Earl of Claridge. He meant it to go to his son."
"But it was stolen before his son could receive it."
"Then it came to Mr. Steele with a note which said- 'Your father always wanted you to have this'," Laura recalls. "Signed Patrick O'Rourke."
"The thief gave it to O'Rourke," Daniel explains.
"To give it to the thief's son?"
"A father wants to leave some legacy to his children. No matter how small."
"You still haven't told me what this is doing among your belongings."
Daniel laughs, and turns away. "I'm afraid I stole it. Again."
"You're the thief?" she questions.
He looks at her. "You've uncovered quite a Pandora's box, Laura. As difficult as it may be to believe, the man you call Remington Steele- is my son," he admits.
Laura stares at him, then at the open pocket watch in her hands.
To Part II