In the end, Remington decided that his decision to visit Alejandro Candares needed some "rethinking". Laura was surprised and more than a little miffed when he pushed her into the waiting taxi behind Howard Forester before joining them.
"What are you doing?" she asked after hearing him tell the driver to take them back to the hotel. "I thought we were going to visit Gianelli's grandfather?"
"The bell hop outside of the bungalow mentioned that Señor Armendariz has spent much of the day away on 'business'," Remington reminded her. "You wondered about it yourself, remember?"
"So?"
"What if that business is checking up on his grandfather's comings and goings?" he suggested, seeing the realization begin to appear through Laura's angry expression.
"As well as his visitors," she added. "But - we can't just leave him to-"
"Laura, I'm not at all certain that I can tell that old man that the grandson he never knew wants to kill him."
"He has a point, Miss Holt," Howard agreed. "I think the best thing for all concerned will be to get Racine away from Jack Gianelli's clutches, and *then* let the Argentinean authorities handle things from there on out."
"Shouldn't we at least check in with the authorities?" Laura suggested. "Let them know-"
"Let them know what, exactly?" Howard asked. "That American movie star Racine Douglas was kidnapped by the grandson of a former Argentinean Ambassador and that he *might* be planning to harm his grandfather?"
"At least we could give them a heads up," Laura insisted.
"And possibly get Racine killed," Remington continued, shaking his head. "We'll continue the plan as we agreed. Return to the hotel and wait for the right moment to get Racine away from Nurse Ratchet."
***
The desk clerk smiled at the new arrival and summoned a bellhop to take him to a room. "I hope you enjoy your visit, Señor Forester," he said as he noticed the Whitewoods crossing the lobby toward the elevators. "Take Señor Forester to Suite 421," he told the bellhop as he went around the end of the counter to catch up to the American honeymooners. "Señor Whitewood," he called in an attempt to gain their attention.
The couple turned to look at him. "Yes?" Mr. Whitewood responded, smiling.
"There was a call for you," he explained, taking a message slip from his pocket. "A- Señora Krebs."
Remington took the note from the man, glancing at it before giving Laura a look. "I thought you spoke to your mother earlier?" he asked.
"I did," Laura replied, getting into the act. "But you know how she is."
"Nosy," Remington nodded, and when Laura pretended to be put out, he tapped her nose playfully. "But in a good way," he added. Turning back to the waiting clerk, Remington placed some money into the man's outstretched hand. "Thank you. I suppose we'd best go up to our room and find out what she wants."
"Thank *you*, señor," the clerk said, glancing at the generous tip he'd received.
As they moved off, Remington stopped, as if in afterthought. "Ah, would you happen to know if Mr. and Mrs. Armendariz are in," he asked. "Mrs. Whitewood and I thought we might- drop by if they are."
"I believe that Señora Armendariz is in their bungalow," the clerk confirmed. "But Señor Armendariz left earlier today and has not yet returned. I would be delighted to give him a message for you when he does-" the man began, but Remington shook his head.
"We'll just wait until later. Thank you, anyway." Remington placed his hand in the small of Laura's back and guided her toward the elevators. Inside, he pressed the button for the top floor. "I think we'd better find Howard and strike while the iron is hot, so to speak."
"You have a plan?" Laura asked.
"A slight - variation on our original one," he confirmed. With any luck, Racine would be safe within the hour - before Jack Gianelli returned to the hotel.
***
Remington pressed himself against the wall outside of the French doors that led into the bungalow, listening. If he was correct, those doors led directly into the bedroom of the cottage. Through the glass of the doors, he heard someone banging frantically on the front door. Even around the back of the building, he could hear Laura's voice, calling out. "Help! Please! You've got to help me!"
In the bedroom, he heard a woman's voice murmuring, "I'll return in a moment, señora."
Straining to hear further, Remington heard Laura's relieved tones. "Oh, thank God you came to the door. You're a nurse, right? Someone told me you were a nurse-"
"Si," the woman responded, her own tone decidedly *un*friendly.
"My brother. He's having a heart attack. At least, I *think* it's a heart attack," Laura added. "You have to help him!"
"Call a doctor, señorita," Nurse Ratchet suggested coldly. "I am a private duty nurse. I already have a patient to take care of."
"No, please don't close the door!" Laura begged, sounding near tears. "Please! He's all I have! If something happens to him- I'll tell everyone that you refused to help him," she promised. "Just- come take care of him until I can *find* a doctor! Please!"
Remington moved to a nearby window and peered through. He had a clear view of the front door- and ducked back out of sight as the nurse turned to look at the bedroom, uncertain.
"Very well, señorita. But I cannot stay long away from Señora Armendariz."
"Thank you!" Laura said as the woman closed the door before following Laura down the path toward the hotel.
Remington easily slipped the lock of the French doors and entered the bedroom. Racine looked tiny in the huge king sized bed. Her eyes were closed, and remained so as she said weakly, "Who was that?" She obviously thought he was her nurse, returned to continue whatever duties assigned to her.
"Just Laura, luring the gate keeper away so that the Princess could be rescued," he said quietly.
Racine's eyes flew open and focused on his face with difficulty. "Remington?" she questioned. "Am I- dreaming? Jack. Oh, Remington. Jack-"
"I know," he said, sitting beside her, keeping one eye on the door into the room. "DO you know where he might have put your passport?"
"My- passport?" she questioned.
Quietly, he crossed the room and began going through drawers, cabinets- and came up empty. Finally, he started examining the artwork on the walls -
"What are you doing?" Racine asked. "I have to get away from him. He's insane." Her voice sounded weak, and Remington knew that whatever drug Gianelli had given her was still working on her system.
A small watercolor of boats in a harbor swung away from the wall, revealing a safe. Remington leaned close to the door as he turned the knob, listening as the tumblers fell into place. One more, he thought, and froze as he heard the outer door of the bungalow open.
"Are you *sure* it wasn't a heart attack?" Laura's voice said. "I mean- he has a history, and-"
"I know a heart attack when I see one, señorita," the nurse said. "Now, I must return to my patient. Señor Armendariz would not approve of my leaving her for even a moment. He was very specific about it."
Remington's gaze found Racine's terror filled eyes, and signaled for her to be quiet as he picked up a heavy metal figurine from a table and hid beside the door.
"Wait!" Laura called out, but the nurse was not to be swayed.
"Adios, señorita," the woman declared, closing the door with enough force that Remington swore the walls of the small house shook. He waited by the door, signaling that Racine should close her eyes and pretend to be asleep once again. Seeing her follow his orders, he raised the figurine over his head.
When the nurse entered the room, Remington brought the makeshift weapon down onto the back of the woman's head. She collapsed with a surprised grunt onto the floor. "That's one for Jack," he noted, dropping the figurine onto the floor before going to the safe, which opened immediately. Inside, he found not only Racine's passport, but Jack Gianelli's, as well as two fake IDs for Fernando and Marlene Armendariz. The latter two he left, but he took both of the real ones, and then went to the bed, where he gently lifted Racine into his arms.
Without another word, he carried her out of the bungalow through the French doors and around the hotel, where Laura and Howard were waiting near the taxi they had called earlier. "Thank God!" Howard cried when he saw the woman in Remington's arms. "I was so worried, Racine."
"Howard," she sighed. "Jack. I trusted him."
"I know, honey," Howard said as Remington placed Racine into a taxi. "But it's over now."
Remington handed Racine's passport over to Howard. "This should get you both home safely."
"You're not coming with us?" Howard asked, looking up at him from the back of the car.
"We'll delay Gianelli for as long as we can," he explained.
"Thank you, Remington," Racine said weakly. "And you, Miss Holt. You're very lucky, you know."
"I know," Laura agreed. "You just let Howard take you back to Los Angeles and get you well again."
"Be careful," Howard told them both. "Gianelli's not going to be very happy when he finds out that he's lost Racine."
"Well, then, we'll just have to give him something else to worry about, won't we?" Remington suggested. He straightened and tapped the roof of the cab twice. "The airport," he told the driver. "And quickly."
Watching the cab disappear, Laura looked up at Remington. "You didn't tell Howard about this part of the plan, I take it?"
"I knew he wouldn't like our remaining here to confront Gianelli alone," Remington told her. "And I didn't want to argue with him about it." He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "Besides, this way, once we've put Jack Gianelli behind bars, we'll be free to continue where we left off earlier," he said.
Laura smiled at him. "Sounds like a plan to me."
"I take it you approve, Mrs. Steele?" he asked.
"Oh, I do, Mr. Steele. I do." She was about to kiss him when she suddenly gasped and pulled him with her beside a hedge.
"Laura-?"
"He's here," she said, pointing around the hedge. "Just got out of a taxi."
Remington peered cautiously around the hedge in time to see Jack Gianelli head toward the hotel's entrance. He looked at Laura.
"It's Showtime," she said.
***
Jack Gianelli returned to the bungalow to find Señora Delgado just rising from the floor, a hand to the back of her head. "Señora!" he said, moving to try and assist the large woman to her feet. "What happened?"
"I do not know," she said. "I came back into the room, and suddenly- everything went dark."
Gianelli's eyes fell on the still open safe- and he turned toward the bed, expecting Racine to be there, still asleep from the "medication" that he had told Señora Delgado to give her for her nerves. "Racine!" he called out, seeing the empty bed.
"Madre de Dios", Señora Delgado sighed, crossing herself.
"Where is my wife?" he asked the nurse.
"I do not know, señor," she said. Seeing that one of the French doors were open, she suggested, "Perhaps she- went for a walk?"
"She was too weak for that," Jack insisted, rounding on the still groggy woman. "Where is she? Why did you leave her alone?"
"I did not," Señora Delgado insisted.
"You said that you were hit when you came *back* into the room," Gianelli recalled. "Which meant that you'd left."
"Only for a moment," the woman said. "There was a young woman who insisted her brother was having a heart attack and could not wait for a doctor to arrive. I *had* to go help him, señor. It was my duty."
"You had a duty to do what I *paid* you to do!" Gianelli yelled, picking up a heavy marble ashtray and throwing it across the room, where it crashed into a mirror, shattering the reflected image. "Get out of here!" he ordered.
"Señor, I-"
"Get out!" Gianelli yelled.
Laura and Remington watched the nurse stomp away from the bungalow before returning to the taxi stand, where Remington flagged one down.
"Where would you like to go, señor?" the driver asked.
"You wouldn't know where we could find Ambassador Alejandro Candares, would you?"
Crooked white teeth were revealed as the man put his car into gear. "Sí, señor. Everyone knows of the hacienda of Señor Candares. He is a great man."
"Excellent," Remington said with a smile. "Can you take us there?"
"Of course."
***
Alejandro Candares' "hacienda" was a small ranch close to town, with a lovely Spanish styled house of white stucco capped by a red tiled roof. The taxi driver agreed to wait for them, and pulled into a parking area as Remington and Laura approached the heavy wooden doors. "How do we know that Jack Gianelli won't just catch the first flight back to LA?" Laura asked.
"He came this far to confront or whatever he intends to do to his Grandfather. I don't think he'd give that up so quickly once he realizes that we have Racine."
***
Jack Gianelli approached the desk clerk, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "Excuse me."
The man looked up from the computer before him. "Ah, Señor Armendariz. May I help you?"
"I just wanted you to know that my wife left earlier."
The clerk looked upset. "I am sorry to hear that, señor. I hope she has not taken a turn for the worse?"
"No. She decided to spend some time with some friends in the country," Jack lied. "Speaking of friends, has anyone asked about my wife or myself in the last day or so?" he inquired.
The clerk gave Jack a nervous smile. "They wanted to surprise you, señor," the clerk said.
"*Who* wanted to surprise me?"
"Señor Whitewood and his bride." The clerk consulted his ledger. "Reggie Whitewood?"
"Of course," Jack said. "What did this- Mr. Whitewood look like?"
If the clerk was surprised to hear the question, he didn't mention it. "Tall, dark hair. English accent."
"Blue eyes?" Jack continued. "And his wife is -" he held out a hand, "about so tall, with brown hair?"
"Si. That is them. They are in the honeymoon suite," the clerk confirmed.
"Are they really? I'll just have to pop in and pay a visit to my old friend Reggie and his little bride," Jack said, his eyes narrowed. "They *are* still here, aren't they?"
"Si," the clerk confirmed again. "But, they are not in at the moment, however," he said quickly as Jack turned away toward the elevators to pay the promised visit. They told me that they were going to take a friend to the airport and then pay a courtesy call on Ambassador Candares."
Jack's jaw tightened painfully at the news.
***
"Thank you for seeing us without an appointment, Ambassador," Remington said to the white haired man before him. Even at nearly eighty, Alejandro Candares was an imposing man with an equally imposing air about him. He smiled, gesturing to the sofa before sitting down in the chair across from it.
"How could I refuse?" Candares said. "It isn't every day that a famous private detective from Los Angeles comes to my door. And I am no longer an Ambassador," he pointed out with a smile. "Merely a private citizen who is concerned for my country and wishes to spend the remainder of my days watching my cattle grow fat and my horses run faster."
A young maid entered the room with a tray containing a sterling silver tea service and three china cups. "I hope you will accept some tea, Mr. Steele? Miss Holt?" When they both nodded, he nodded to the maid, who began to pour the liquid. "I adopted your English custom of tea-time when I was in England many years ago." Once they had their tea, the maid left the room again.
Laura surveyed the room, its walls lined with photographs of Alejandro Candares with presidents, politicians. "You have a lovely home, senor," she told him.
"Thank you. It has been in my family for many generations. My ancestor came here from Spain and settled much of the surrounding land. At one time, my family's properties ran all the way to the sea." He sighed. "Now, it is but a hundred or so acres. And once I am gone - " He shook off the melancholy that seemed to overtake him and smiled. "Enough about me, Mr. Steele, what can I do for you?"
Laura held her breath as Remington took a sip of his tea before putting the cup and saucer onto the table before them. She mentally prepared herself to speak, knowing that he dreaded having to tell the old man why they were there. When he finally spoke, Laura released her breath and took a sip of her own tea.
"It's about your grandson, Senor Candares."
Candares frowned. "You are mistaken, Mr. Steele. I have no grandson," he informed them. China rattled against china as Candares placed his cup and saucer on the table but ignored the leather wallet in Remington's hand. "My daughter died the day that she chose to ignore my wishes and marry a man who was only after my money and power," he declared. He rose slowly and went to the window to look outside. "I had no contact with her after the day she left the Embassy in New York City to go with him."
"You never made *any* attempt to find her?" Remington questioned.
"Only once, when her mother died five years after we left America to return here. My wife died of a broken heart, Mr. Steele. The loss of her daughter was something from which she could not recover. I attempted to contact her at the address on the only letter she sent to us, written days after her marriage. She was not there, and no one knew where she was."
"So you never tried to contact her again?" Remington asked. "Never wondered if she were all right? Left her to raise her son alone after his father ran away before he was even born? Left her with no choice but to turn to prostituting herself to support the two of them until the night she was found beaten and strangled to death in some dark room?"
Laura placed her hand on Remington's arm to end his outburst as the old man closed his eyes and leaned forward to rest his forehead against the glass. She and Remington watched as he turned around and moved stiffly back to the chair, where he sat down before extending his hand in a silent demand to look at the passport. Remington handed the leather wallet over and watched as the man sagged with realization of the truth of Remington's words.
"If I had known," Candares whispered. "If she had contacted me, let me know that she needed my help-- They should have been here. My grandson should have grown up here where his mother was born and raised." His dark, red-rimmed eyes lifted to Remington. "Where is he?" he asked. "Where is my grandson, Mr. Steele?"
TBC