Laura watched him for a moment as
he sat there. "It gets worse," she admitted, then went
to the answering machine and rewound the message to play it again.
"I swear to you, Laura, I hadn't heard that until just now,"
he insisted. His blue gaze fell on the clutch of lilies on the
table before him, not really seeing them at all as he tried to
make some sense of things.
Laura grasped his left elbow to try and force him to pay attention
to her, frowning as he yelped. "What is it?" she asked.
"My arm hurts," he told her. "Guess I bruised it
while I was out." He removed his jacket and rolled back his
left sleeve to reveal what was indeed a bruise, surrounding what
appeared to be a small pin prick. "What the-?"
Laura gently turned his arm toward the light. "It looks like-
like someone gave you an injection. Something to keep you knocked
out, maybe-" she speculated.
"But why?"
She touched the blood on his shirt. "To give them time to
complete their plan, whatever THAT is. I think someone's trying
to destroy the Agency."
Remington looked thoughtful. "There's a long list of people
that I've made enemies of, Laura," he reminded her. "Before
AND after I became Remington Steele."
"Okay, but how many could pull something like this off? And
how many of the people you put away as Remington Steele are out
of prison?"
"I don't know."
She paused. "Maybe- if you called Daniel-?" she said
softly, watching him.
At the mention of his father's name, Remington turned to look
at her. "Daniel? What on earth for?"
"Maybe he's heard something," she suggested. "Talk
on the streets, rumors of someone with a big grudge."
"I think he would have already called if he had. Let's check
the other possibilities out first, eh? Besides, I'm not even sure
where to reach Daniel."
"I have his number," she told him.
He unfastened his shirt, and went toward the bedroom. "Right
now, what I'm going to do is take a hot shower, then maybe things
will become clearer. My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton
wool."
Laura picked up the stained shirt from the floor, and then grabbed
a clean shirt from the drawer. "Put this on," she told
him. "I'm taking you to see a doctor," she explained
when he turned as he was about to enter the bathroom to look at
her. "Whatever they gave you could be dangerous. And I'm
sure you have a concussion."
He touched her cheek. "It's a good thing that I didn't give
in to my instinct to stay with you last night," he told her.
"I wouldn't want to drag you down with me. Maybe you and
Murphy can salvage your careers." He looked up as the doorbell
rang. "Would you see who that is? I'm going to take that
shower-" when she would have spoken, he place a finger to
her lips. "And then we'll go see the doctor."
He waited a moment for her to go back out to the living room,
then went to the partially open door and listened as she called,
"Coming!" The bell rang again. "Who is it?"
she asked.
"LAPD," a voice called out, and Remington winced. Stepping
out, he motioned that Laura should answer the door, slipping his
arms into the clean shirt as she turned away.
Laura opened the door to reveal a rumpled looking man accompanied
by two uniformed officers. "May I help you?" she asked.
"I'm- uh-" the man patted his pockets for a moment,
as the two officers exchanged a knowing smile behind his back.
"Oh, here it is," he said, pulling out a wallet and
showing her the shield it contained. "Detective James Jarvis,
Miss- Holt, isn't it?"
"Yes," Laura admitted. "I'm Laura Holt."
"I need to talk to Mr. Steele."
She stepped back, belatedly realizing that she was still holding
the ruined shirt. As nonchalantly as she could, she folded it,
making sure to keep the blood stains away from the policeman's
line of sight. "If it's about Lila Malone's accusation, Detective-"
"As a matter of fact, Miss Holt, it IS about Miss Malone,
but fraud isn't really me department."
"Oh? What IS your department?" Laura asked with a sinking
feeling.
"Homicide," he explained, looking around the room.
"You can't seriously believe that H-that Mr. Steele is responsible
for Louis Malone's death?"
"It's not MR. Malone's death that I need to talk to him about.
Is he here?" He patted another pocket. "Oh, and-"
he finally pulled out a piece of paper. "I have a search
warrant allowing me to search the apartment." He handed the
warrant to Laura, then held out his other hand. "May I see
that shirt, Miss Holt?"
Slowly, Laura handed it over, watching as he examined the bloodstains,
then looked at the other two officers. "Check the bedroom,"
he ordered.
"Jarvis-" Laura began, but one of the officers returned.
"Looks like he escaped through the bedroom window, Lieutenant.
Fire escape."
"Close down the area. I don't want him to get away."
"Yessir," the officer said, taking the door to the corridor.
Laura used Jarvis' distraction to move toward the answering machine.
Her finger was hovering over the "erase" button when
Jarvis called out. "Hold it right there, Miss Holt."
He reached around her. "Wouldn't trying to destroy evidence,
now, would you?"
"Of course not, Jarvis. It's just that-"
"Let's see what we have here, shall we?" he asked as
he pressed the "rewind" and then the "Play"
button.
Laura closed her eyes for a second as Lila Malone's angry voice
seemed to fill the room. Once it was finished, Jarvis removed
the tape from the machine. "Jarvis, he swears he never heard
it before I played it for him this morning."
"Did he say where he was last night?" Jarvis asked.
"He spent the evening with me," Laura began.
"Oh, come on, Miss Holt. I'm as aware as anyone in this town
that you and Steele are- more than employee and employer. But
giving him an alibi-"
"He LEFT around eleven," Laura finished in a tight,
angry voice. "The agency limo left him downstairs half an
hour later. Someone hit him on the head when he came in here-"
"And I suppose he doesn't remember anything that happened
after that?"
"No. He woke up an hour ago in the alley behind this building."
Jarvis' disbelief was evident. "I really need to talk to
him, Miss Holt. Where was he going?"
"I don't know. Last I heard, he was going to take a shower."
The second officer returned, holding a large shoebox. "Lieutenant,
I found this stuffed in the back corner of the closet. Beneath
about a dozen pair of shoes."
Laura held her breath as Jarvis lifted the lid on the box and
set it aside. He picked up a manila folder and glanced through
the contents. "Looks like a folder on the Conover coin case."
He examined a document. "Including a report claiming that
Louis Malone stole that collection." He handed it to Laura,
then looked into the box again. "A bankbook-" he glanced
at the entries, then whistled. "Nice little nest egg Steele's
got there." In the back was a paper. "And there's a
safety deposit box at the same bank." He rummaged around
for the key, but came up empty handed.
Laura tossed the folder into the box. "These were planted
before or after Mr. Steele was hit on the head," she told
Jarvis.
"It would help if I could talk to him, Holt," Jarvis
told her again. "You're SURE you don't know where he might
be?"
Laura sighed. Harry was in a LOT of trouble.
***
Murphy drove the car past the Rossmore Apartments, then turned
to take the block again. "What's wrong now, Mr. Michaels?"
Miss Krebs asked. "I thought we were going to Mr. Steele's
apartment to meet Miss Holt?"
"We were," Murphy told the woman. "But police cars
are never a good sign," he commented, then noticed movement
in the hedge near the alleyway.
When he turned into the alley, his passenger frowned. "What
ARE you doing? Look, if you're not going to take me to Mr. Steele,
then-"
Murphy stopped the car and reached behind him to open the back
door of the sedan. He ignored the sounds and creak of back seat
springs, and saw Miss Krebs start to turn around. "Eyes front,
please, Miss Krebs," he warned. "Don't want to-"
the door closed, and he continued, "draw attention, do we?"
Putting the car into gear, he backed out of the alley. "I'd
stay down back there," he warned, noticing two more police
cars turning onto the street. "Kinda hot up here right now."
"Thanks, Murphy," the muffled voice responded.
"Hey, what are friends for if not to risk their entire future?"
***
"It doesn't make any sense!" Laura declared as she and
Jarvis watched as yellow tape was placed across the doorway of
Harry's apartment. "If Mr. Steele came back here and heard
that message, why didn't he erase it before going to meet her?"
"Probably in too much of a hurry," Jarvis suggested.
"He only had until midnight to meet her. Look, Holt, it doesn't
have to make sense when you consider that we found Steele's gun
in the bungalow- and his fingerprints were all over the place.
Including a bloody one on the wall."
"So Lila Malone was shot?"
"Apparently."
"Apparently?" Laura asked, turning to follow him toward
the elevator. "You don't KNOW?"
Jarvis scratched his head as the doors closed. "Well, we
haven't exactly found the body. But there were reports of yelling,
and a shot being fired- and a man leaving the bungalow carrying
something. The description matches Steele's general description-"
"That's all circumstantial evidence, Jarvis ,and you know
it!"
"Fingerprints don't lie, Miss Holt," Jarvis said as
they exited the building onto the street, just in time for Laura
to see Murphy's car turning down the street, passing a police
car.
Laura kept her attention focused elsewhere as she asked, "Then
WHERE is the body?"
"I think we'll find that out when we find Mr. Steele."
She followed him to his car, not daring to breathe until Murphy's
Ford sedan had gotten safely away. "What happens now?"
"Well, we find Steele. And we found out what's in that safety
deposit box." He opened the passenger door of his car. "After
you, Miss Holt." Laura shook her head. "Right now, I'd
feel better if I knew where YOU were, any way. Get in."
Laura sighed as Jarvis closed the door and went around to get
in on the other side.
***
Murphy watched in his rear view mirror as Laura talked to Jarvis,
then turned the corner. "Okay. I think it's safe," he
told Steele. Steele sat up, running his fingers through his hair.
Murphy glanced into the mirror again. "You look rough."
"Getting hit on the head and drugged will do that to you,"
Steele commented dryly.
"You're Remington Steele?" Miss Krebs asked, eyeing
him uncertainly.
Murphy's smile was grim. "Remington Steele, Mildred Krebs-
IRS," Murphy added.
Remington reached over the seat to take Mildred's hand after giving
Murphy a curious glance. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Krebs.
Wish it could have been under better circumstances. And I'm very
sorry for missing our appointment this morning."
Murphy shook his head as he listened to his boss turn on the charm.
The question was- would it melt the heart of one Mildred Krebs,
Bureaucrat?
"I'm sure you have a great many things on your mind, Mr.
Steele," Miss Krebs said. "But my time IS important-"
"I quite agree, Mildred. May I call you Mildred?" he
asked ingenuously.
"Well, I-"
Murphy rolled his eyes. He had her. Pretty soon, she'd be eating
out of the palm of his hand. How DID the man do it, he wondered-
not for the first time.
"And I can assure you that I can explain whatever problems
you might have found with my taxes," he told her with sincerity.
"I'm always glad to cooperate with the taxman."
"I'm glad you feel that way, Mr. Steele. Not everyone does.
But if you could just explain about the account that we got a
tip on-"
"What account?" Steele asked, watching as Mildred opened
her briefcase and pulled out a folder.
"At Valley Bank," she informed him, handing him the
file. "There's an account in your name, as well as a safety
deposit box. If you can't explain it, I'll have to get a court
order to put a lien against the account and the contents of the
box."
"Hmm. Well, Mildred, the truth is, I had no idea that account
even existed until this moment."
"You didn't?"
"No. So, you see, in order for me to explain to you, I have
to find out what's going on."
"Um," Murphy said, interrupting, "Mind telling
ME what's going on?"
"Gladly, Murphy, what I know about it, anyway. The details
are still a bit sketchy. Why don't you head for the Valley, eh?"
Steele suggested.
"Already ahead of you, Boss," Murphy told him, pointing
toward a sign on the side of the highway.
Steele clapped a hand on Murphy's shoulder. "Good man, Murphy.
Have you seen this morning's paper, by any chance?"
To Be Continued---