"What?!" Murphy couldn't
believe his ears. Had Steele really said he was going to run away
from this?
"Listen, whoever's set this thing up did a good job. Too
good, maybe. And with Jarvis back in town and on the case- hell,
Murphy, he'd just as soon see me in prison as anyone. I'm just
saying that it might be best if I find out who's behind it on
my own. I don't want to drag you and Laura down with me."
"Hell, Steele, I AM involved. So is Laura. And so is Mildred
here. Jarvis'll come down on us for sure if you up and vanish.
You know that. I'm sure he's figured out who I am from the description
of me he got at the bank." He clapped a hand on Remington's
shoulder. "Look, at least let me call Lesley, see if she
can tell me anything."
Remington met Murphy's concerned look, then nodded. "Okay."
Murphy smiled in relief as he picked up the telephone. Remington
moved to peer through the venetian blinds that covered the windows.
"I wish we had some way to get in touch with Laura."
"Couldn't you call her and leave a message?" Mildred
suggested.
"Too risky. But you could, if you're still willing to help
me, that is. You've already put your job at risk-"
"Mr. Steele, you wanna know a secret? I hate my job. I really
do. It's boring, depressing- I just hate it. These last few hours
since I walked into your office have been the most exciting of
my life!" she declared. "I guess that doesn't say much
about my life, does it?" she asked with a sheepish smile.
Remington put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You're
a very special lady, Mildred."
"Not really, Mr. Steele. Just a burned out old bureaucrat
who's hankering after something more in her life than she has
now. Tell you what, once Murphy's done on the phone, we'll call
Miss Holt, okay?"
"Okay," Remington agreed, finding himself liking this
woman more and more. "What do you suggest we do about the
courier? I don't like the idea of sending that information to
your superiors to simply hand over to the police."
"That's easy enough," Mildred said, turning to her briefcase
to remove a new folder. Looking around, she found a copy of the
previous day's newspaper and put inside. "There you go."
"Won't you get into trouble?"
"I can handle those guys at the office," Mildred assured
him.
Murphy hung up the phone. "Lesley's gonna check, see what
she can come up with. I told her I'd call her back in a couple
of hours."
Mildred moved to pick up the telephone. "Where are we gonna
leave that message for Miss Holt, Mr. Steele?"
***
Laura frowned as she approached the office doors and found them
secured with a padlock. Inside, men were carrying stacks of files
into Harry's office. She tapped on the door, and one of the men
turned to look at her before continuing into the other room.
Frustrated, Laura considered taking out her kit and picking the
padlock- wouldn't take a minute, she figured. In fact, she started
digging in her purse as the door opened as far as the chain would
allow. "I'm sorry, miss. The Remington Steele Agency is closed
until further notice. Perhaps another agency-"
"What? Who are you?"
He showed her his identification. "Mr. Steele is under investigation
for-"
"I KNOW what he's under investigation for, Mr. Newman. And
it's a crock."
Newman backed off a little, looking at her with a thoughtful expression
as one of his men approached. "You're Laura Holt, aren't
you?"
"Yes," Laura admitted.
"She's not a client, Newman," the other man said. "She's
Steele's--associate."
Laura heard the pause and narrowed her eyes in the man's direction.
"Look, can I come inside? My- I left something in my desk-
some medicine-"
"Medicine?"
"For my mother," Laura lied.
"Sorry. Everything's off limits til we finish going through
the case files," the man told her as Newman remained silent.
"You're not going to find what you're looking for,"
Laura insisted. "Because he never handled that case! And
even if he HAD, do you really think he'd be stupid enough to put
it here?"
"What better place to hide something like that?" Newman
countered her question. "With all these case files, he could
easily have hidden whatever information he had on the Conover
case."
"I KNOW there's nothing there."
"How do you know, Miss Holt?" the other man asked. "Because
your- Boss told you so?"
There was that hesitation again. The implication that Remington
Steele was MORE than just her boss. Laura clenched her hands into
fists, wishing she could reach far enough into that office to
wipe that smirk from the man's face. "No," she replied
in a soft, dangerous voice. "I know because I've READ every
file in that office. I did it when I started with the Agency a
year ago. Mr. Steele insisted that I do it to familiarize myself
with how he does things."
"Yeah, I'll bet you know all about how he *does* things,"
was the snide reply as he looked her up and down. "Look,
Holt, if I were you, I'd go find a nice little secretary job somewhere.
Because your boyfriend's not going to be around to let you play
detective anymore."
"Listen, you-" Laura felt her cheeks grow warm with
anger, and would have sent a few choice words in the man's direction
if Newman hadn't stepped between them.
"That's enough, Phillips," Newman said in a firm voice.
"Go help the others."
Laura's glare followed Phillips all the way. "You need to
learn to control your people, Mr. Newman."
"Phillips is a bit gung-ho," Newman agreed.
"He doesn't like Mr. Steele, does he?"
"It might come as a surprise to you, Holt," Newman said,
reaching out to place a key in the lock and slip it from the chain
before holding the door open, "but there's more than a little
jealousy in the PI community when it comes to Remington Steele."
"Why? Because he's so successful?" Laura questioned
as she followed Newman into her office.
"That's part of it. But some of it could be because he's
so high profile. Easy target. And the fact that he makes it look
so easy doesn't help much. Lots of em wouldn't mind seeing Steele
taken down a peg or two."
"Including you, Mr. Newman?" Laura asked.
"Doesn't matter to me," he shrugged. "I'm not on
the streets anymore, fighting for clients. My job now is to make
sure that the people who ARE still out there are doing it ethically."
"Let me tell you something, Mr. Newman- Remington Steele
is the most ETHICAL person I know. He LOVES to lecture Murphy
and me on that very subject! He would NEVER use this agency for
personal gain."
"Maybe, maybe not. If he's innocent, the facts will bear
that out."
"Speaking of Murphy, where is he?" she asked, knowing
full well that he was with Harry somewhere.
"You mean Michaels? Oh, he and your new receptionist left
after we came in. Said they were going to find Steele. Maybe they
were successful."
"New receptionist? I wasn't here- didn't know that he'd hired
anyone," she said quickly.
"Yeah. I think Michaels said her name was Krebs or something
like that. Kinda feel sorry for the woman. Getting a job and losing
it all in one day."
"She hasn't lost her job yet, Mr. Newman," Laura informed
him, turning toward the door.
"Aren't you forgetting something, Miss Holt?" Laura
stopped and looked at him. "The medicine?" Newman prompted.
"Oh. Yes. Um, it's in my top desk drawer," she told
him, moving around to open that drawer. She removed a brown plastic
tube, grateful that she'd just refilled the aspirins inside, and
shook it with her hand around it, before putting it into her purse
with a smile. "Thanks. My mother really needs these."
"Give her my best," Newman said, walking her to the
door.
"I will." She paused in the open doorway. "Mr.
Newman, why aren't you treating me the way your friend Phillips
did?"
"Because I've read some of the reports that have come in
since you joined the agency, Miss Holt. YOUR reports."
"How do you know that I wrote them?"
"Everyone's got a style. I've read enough of Steele's and
Michaels' reports to know theirs. You're good at what you do-
unless those reports were lies."
"They weren't."
"I didn't think so. Look. As good as you are, there are a
LOT of people who see you only as Steele's girlfriend. A secretary
he's letting 'play' at being a PI. This thing with Steele just
might be a good thing for you. Give you a chance to show em all
that you really ARE a detective."
"I'm going to show them, Mr. Newman. Because I'm going to
prove that he's innocent. He's been set up by someone- "
"Maybe. But the question is: by who?"
"That's what I'm going to find out," Laura informed
him, exiting the offices. She turned toward the elevators, hearing
the pills rattle in the bottle that she'd stuffed into her purse.
Taking it out, she removed two of the aspirins and stopped at
the water fountain to swallow them. She had a headache- and it
was getting worse.
She pulled the Rabbit out of the garage onto the street, and smiled
as she saw the unmarked police car pick up the tail once more.
She'd made him halfway back to the office from Rossmore. Jarvis
probably figured she would lead them to Harry. The smile faded
as she recalled that she had no way of knowing where Harry might
be.
She drove home, even waved at the policeman as he drove past her
house. He didn't wave back, but she saw him pick up the radio,
probably to report back to Jarvis that she'd made the tail- and
that she was at home.
Inside, Laura tossed her purse and hat onto the chair, then flopped
down on the sofa, wondering what her first move should be. Her
eyes noticed that the answering machine was blinking. She'd hated
the machine when Harry had gotten it, but he'd insisted that it
was something she wouldn't know how she had ever lived without
after awhile. She still hated the thing- but there was a message.
TWO messages, if the indicator was right. Pressing the button,
she listened as a familiar male voice filled the air.
"Laura, it's Daniel." She smiled tiredly upon hearing
Harry's father's concerned voice. "Someone just called me
about Harry. Something about his being suspected of blackmailing
a client or some such nonsense. I've been trying to call his flat,
but there's no answer. Call me and let me know what's going on,
please. If Harry needs me, I can be on a flight in half an hour."
"Oh, Daniel," Laura sighed, remembering her failed attempt
to get Harry to call his father.
The next message made her sit up in confusion at first. "Laura,
hon, it's your Aunt Millie. Just thought I'd let you know that
I'm heading up *North* to *Hawkins* later this evening. Heard
about a lady up there selling *109* of those little dolls that
I collect. If you get in before 9, give me a call."
The voice SOUNDED a little like that of Miss Krebs, Laura decided,
playing the message again. "Hawkins," Laura muttered,
grabbing an atlas from the bookshelf. "Hawkins. Hawkins."
There was no Hawkins that Laura could find. While putting the
atlas back, a street map of Los Angeles fell to the floor, and
Laura picked it up. Her expression thoughtful, she opened the
map and looked for North Hawkins Street. "Bingo!"
Now, she just had to wait until dark, so she could evade Jarvis'
men. Picking up the telephone, she dialed Daniel's number. "Daniel?
It's Laura."
***
"I'm going to try Laura's number again," Remington decided,
picking up the telephone.
Murphy glanced away from the window. "I don't think that's
a good idea, Steele."
"Why not?"
"Jarvis just pulled up outside," Murphy informed him.
"I told you he'd be right behind that courier. Man's like
a bulldog. Just won't let go."
"It's time for me to go, then," Remington decided. When
Murphy looked at him to argue, Remington said, "Look, you
and I both know Jarvis. You're right. He's not going to let this
go. Can't say I blame him for that- but I'll be damned if I'll
take you any further down with me."
"Mr. Steele," Mildred said, "you can't go yet.
Miss Holt will be here at nine- I'm sure of it." She thought
for a second. "The bedroom."
"What?"
"The closet in there is huge. I've gotten lost in there myself
a time or two," she informed him. "Besides, if he doesn't
have a search warrant, he's not getting any further than this
room."
Remington gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I should refuse
the offer-."
"Get going," she urged as there was a knock on the door.
She pointed toward the bedroom, then waited for him to close the
door. With a glance at Murphy, who stepped around the corner,
she opened the front door. "Hello?"
"Mildred Krebs?" Jarvis asked, taking out his badge
and showing it to her.
"Yes, I'm Mildred Krebs."
"Lt. Jarvis. I need to ask you a few questions about your
involvement with Remington Steele-"
"I'm not involved with Mr. Steele, Lieutenant," Mildred
said. "I had an appointment with him this morning, yes, but
he never showed up."
"Maybe you can explain why you went to the Valley Bank and
removed the contents of a safety deposit box held in Steele's
name." He looked past her. "And why you were with Mr.
Steele's associate, Murphy Michaels."
"Was I?"
Jarvis turned to look at the dark Ford parked on the curb. "That's
Michaels' car, Miss Krebs."
Murphy came around the corner into the entry way. "Hello,
Jarvis."
"Michaels. Give me one reason why I shouldn't arrest you
right now for interfering in a murder investigation. You removed
evidence-"
"The only thing in that box were old newspaper clippings,"
Murphy told the detective. "Stuff about the Conover robbery,
mostly."
"You're aware that Steele's wanted for questioning in the
disappearance and possible murder of Lila Malone, I assume?"
"No, I hadn't heard about it. But I don't have to assume
that Steele's innocent, Jarvis. I know the man. So do you. He
could no more kill in cold blood than you could."
"Right now, I might surprise you, Michaels," Jarvis
said. "Have you seen Steele today?"
"No. After we left the office, Miss Krebs told me about the
safety deposit box, and we decided to go open it up, thinking
there might be something there that would prove his innocence."
"Look, Michaels, the night janitor at the Devonshire Inn,
where Lila Malone was staying, claims he saw Steele leaving her
bungalow AFTER shots were fired. He was carrying something that
looked to be wrapped in a blanket."
"He's mistaken."
"And Steele's fingerprints are all over that room- and his
gun was on the floor."
"He left the gun behind for you to find? Come on, Jarvis!
You know Steele. You know he's not stupid. Or did that year in
New York make you forget everything you ever knew about old friends?"
To Be Continued---