- Two's Company,
Three's A Steele
- By Ilsa
Lund
- PART TWO
- Summary, disclaimer
and rating in Part One
Steele strode through the suite doors and enthusiastically greeted
the secretary with a wave of his hand. "Morning, morning,
morning! New dress? It suits you."
She gazed adoringly at her dashing boss. "Morning Mr Steele.
Aren't we chipper today!"
- "Oh, you too Mildred?"
He dug his hands into his pockets.
- "Whatever it is that's got
you so cheerful, share it with Miss Holt. She's not her usual
spunky self today."
- He grinned ear to ear. "Really?
I wonder why."
- "There were three calls for
you chief. Two were the prospective clients that I passed on
to Miss Holt as you instructed. The other one was from someone
named `Monroe,' he said he'd call back. I've already laid your
newspaper out on your desk. Coffee this morning boss?"
- "Tea, Mildred. I think I'm
in the mood for a nice cup of tea. I'll be with Miss Holt, will
you bring it to me in my office in ten minutes?"
"You got it boss!"
- "Thank you." He flashed
her a dynamic smile as he walked towards his partner's door.
Mildred wryly shook her head. Oh to be thirty again!
*************************************************
Steele popped around the door and grinned. Laura looked up, caught
the self-satisfied expression on his face and suppressed an urge
to belt him.
- "So good of you to finally
join us," she closed the file she'd been reading as he shut
her door behind him. Or rather, the file she'd been pretending
to read. At the sound of his voice, it was speedily employed
as a prop to aid her deliberate display of nonchalance.
- "Ah Miss Holt! Morning, morning,
morning! Lovely day, eh? Weather like this makes one truly thankful
to face the rigours of gainful employment."
- "Who are you and what have
you done with Mr Steele?"
- "Truly Laura, as I got dressed
this morning it occurred to me that fate can sometimes deal you
a winning hand and - something wrong?"
- She shrugged. "It's just that
you're very effusive."
- "I am?" He straightened
his tie.
- "Yes."
- "Must be the buzz of anticipation
for detective work, eh?" He beamed.
- "Might I remind you that this
has been your line of work for nearly three years now? In all
that time I've never seen you buzz this much."
- "It's the cumulative effect
of legwork Miss Holt. Had to happen sooner or later!"
- Laura swallowed her scream of frustration
and ostentatiously checked her watch. "I hate to be pedantic,
but it's actually nearer afternoon than morning."
- "Is that the time? I didn't
realise."
- She picked up the file and blindly
flicked through it. "Any particular reason why?"
- "Any particular reason for
what?"
- "For not realising the time."
- To heighten the effect, he counted
to five before answering her. "I overslept."
- She looked up sharply. "Did
something cause you to oversleep?"
- "What on earth could have
made me oversleep Laura?"
- "Well, the traffic might have
kept you awake. All night. For example."
- "Ah. Well, I can categorically
state that the traffic did not keep me awake all night."
- "Oh." She gazed at her
nails.
- After a few seconds, Steele pressed
on. "As a matter of fact Miss Holt, there was very little
traffic."
- She reached for a pen and doodled
on a scrap of paper. He opened a drawer of her filing cabinet
and shuffled through the files. There was silence for several
minutes. Laura broke it.
"And yet, you say something caused you to oversleep?"
- He looked up. "Did I?"
- "Yes you did Mr Steele."
- "When did I say that Miss
Holt?"
- "Just now."
- "I did?"
- "Yes."
- "Oh." Steele flipped
some pages on a calendar.
- "Oh what?"
- "Merely confirming Miss Holt.
Merely confirming."
- "Merely confirming what Mr
Steele?"
- "Your assertion of my assertion."
- "I only reiterated your initial
statement."
- He dug his hands into his pockets.
"Yes but you embellished it. All I said was that I overslept.
You've now twisted it into a theory of something causing me to
oversleep." He smirked, "Ever the detective, eh?"
- Laura stood up. "I can't believe
we're having this conversation! Alright, fine. The time is eleven
thirty-five and you're happy to be here. Satisfied? Because I'm
ecstatic!"
- "My, my, my! Where does the
time go when you're having fun?"
- "Fun?" she crossed her
arms.
- "Yes Laura, fun. F-u-n. You
remember fun, don't you?"
- "That depends on your definition
of the word Mr Steele."
- "I believe any dictionary
would define it as having a good time."
- She placed her hands on her hips.
"I see. And are you trying to tell me that you had a good
time last night?"
- "Are you referring to your
unexpected visit Miss Holt?" He walked towards her desk
and fiddled with a plant leaf.
- "If you recall, I wasn't the
only wom - I mean, for the benefit of clarification Mr Steele,
are you implying that you had a good time while I was at your
apartment last night? Or afterwards?"
- "Why this morbid fascination
with my activities last night?" He forced himself to stay
icy calm. Almost there old chap, he told himself. Almost there.
- "What are you accusing me
of?" Her temper was rising.
- "What are you accusing me
of accusing you of?" he responded calmly. Too calmly.
- She stared at him for a second
then admonished herself for her near-fatal slip. "Forget
it alright? We have business to conduct and -"
- "Don't worry Miss Holt, it's
forgotten." He drew a line under his words with his hands.
- "What is?" Genuinely
puzzled, her brow furrowed in bemusement.
- "What you just told me to
forget."
- "What did I tell you to forget?"
- "If I tell you what you told
me to forget, it won't be forgotten anymore and you know how
I love to follow your instructions Laura." He grinned at
her again.
- "Can we just rip up this entire
conversation and start again? I have some documents that require
your signature, you have yet another photo shoot with yet another
magazine and we need to discuss our M.O for the Campbell matter."
- Steele frowned. "Photo shoot?"
- Laura slapped her thighs in exasperation.
"I told you about it yesterday, after we solved the Rogers
case. Don't you remember? `The Butler Did It.' "
- "I thought it was the chef?"
"What are you talking about?"
- "The Rogers murder. What are
you talking about?"
- "The Butler Did It,
Mr Steele."
- "For once he didn't, remember?
The chef lost his temper when Rogers stole his secret recipe
for duck breast coated in tamarind sauce served with basil risotto
and nori salad and tried to pass it off as -"
- "Would you stop with the menu
recap please! I'm painfully aware of the details of the Rogers
case, especially as I was the one undercover washing-up all the
dishes in that restaurant! Why you couldn't do it is beyond me!"
- "Laura! I'm the bon vivant
of our business. The only thing I wash is my hair."
- "What about me?"
- "Say the word and I'll wash
your hair too."
- She rolled her eyes heavenwards.
"I meant, don't you think I'd like to take it easy on a
case for once?"
- "Now who'd believe that a
man of my demeanour would lower himself to skivvy in a food establishment,
eh?"
- "Exactly what qualified you
to sample cuisine in luxury while I skivvied in a hot kitchen?"
- "When one wants to know about
foie gras, one comes to me when one wants the best brand
of concentrated washing-up liquid, one goes to you. That's what
I love about you Laura, you're so wonderfully pragmatic!"
He straightened his tie.
- "How did we get on this subject?"
- "What subject Miss Holt?"
- "The Rogers murder."
- "Wasn't it because of your
determination to change the profession of our murderer? He was
definitely a chef although I must admit his tarragon lobster
with linguine tasted more like a butler had cooked it instead
and -"
- Laura gritted her teeth. "Mr
Steele, `The Butler Did It' is the name of the magazine!"
- He tugged his right earlobe. "Never
heard of it. What is it?"
- "It's a publication for private
investigators and they've chosen you as their centerfold `Eye
of the
- Month.' That's where Fred's taking
you shortly."
- "Ah, I see! Okay. Do you mind
giving me a few minutes? Mildred's only just brought me my paper
and a cup of tea. I'm still trying to wake up. Didn't get much
sleep last night."
- Laura glared at his back as he
opened the connecting door to his office.
*************************************************
As the two men made their way into the grand apartment building,
the blonde woman, armed with a small overnight bag, jumped down
from the fire escape. She ran around to the front then stopped
dead at the sight of the green Buick. Recognising it as the same
one that had followed her the day before, she walked up to it
and placed her hand on the bonnet it was still warm. They were
a step behind her: it wasn't much, but it was enough. An idea
struck her. Digging into her bag, she pulled out the device.
After a couple of furtive glances, she slid the gadget between
the window and panel of the door and used her other hand to pull
the handle.
- "Open sesame," she panted
with relief. Throwing her bag on the passenger seat, she pulled
down some wires and connected them. The engine roared into life.
Like the cat that got the double cream, Felicia smiled a smile
of supreme satisfaction and put her foot down.
*************************************************
The day's paperwork attended to and meticulously filed, Laura
wandered into the reception area and plonked herself on the sofa.
- "That's right, the usual amount.
And please ensure that the pads are canary yellow. If you have
any other queries about this order, please refer them to Mildred
Krebbs, Remington Steele Investigations. Thank you. You too."
She replaced the phone and directed a quizzical look at the glum
woman.
- "Something wrong Miss Holt?"
- Stirred out of her reverie, she
blinked. "Huh?"
- "You look a million miles
away."
- "I do? Oh. Just thinking about
that photo shoot. That's all." She got up and paced.
- "Yeah, the boss is a real
poster boy all right! Didn't you want to go with him?"
- "Believe me Mildred, there's
a limit to how many times you can hear `the camera loves you
Mr Steele!' without fearing for your sanity."
- "Are you two out of the office
on a case later this afternoon?"
- Laura shrugged. "Probably."
- "It's just that I need to
leave a little earlier today."
- "Oh, nothing serious?"
- "No Miss Holt. Just a routine
check-up."
- Finally, a smile was coaxed out
of the detective. "Fine Mildred, leave when you're ready.
Somehow, we'll try and cope without you."
- "Thanks Miss Holt. I'm looking
forward to an early night. I'm beat!"
- "Actually Mildred, that reminds
me, I forgot to ask you how was your evening? Do anything interesting?"
- "Just bowling. You should
have seen us honey, we were real hot last night, bagged another
trophy. You?"
- "I visited an old friend.
Did Mr Steele happen to mention to you what he got up to last
night?"
- Mildred's antenna perked up sharply.
"Any particular reason for the question Miss Holt?"
- "No-no-no," Laura hastened
to cover. "It's just that I haven't really had time to speak
to him today, what with the photo shoot and everything else,
that's all."
- "I see. Well, the only thing
he said to me was that he hardly got any sleep."
- "He didn't get much sleep
last night?"
- "That's what he said. He also
told me that he was - now what's the word he used? - shattered
today. That's it, shattered. Shattered from let me get this right
too much expended energy. Something like that, you know how the
boss talks."
- Laura stood up. "Shattered?
Expended energy?"
- The secretary scribbled down her
stationary order. "Uh-huh. He asked me to put sugar in his
tea to perk him up. Said his back was aching too."
- "His back?"
- "Uh-huh. His back."
- "That's a bit I mean it's
- did he say what caused the pain in his back?"
- Mildred contemplated the question
for a moment. "Come to think of it, yes. He mentioned something
about not enough room and an awkward position. Or was it not
enough positions in an awkward room? I was making the tea at
the time and couldn't hear his conversation that clearly."
- Laura stared at her, aghast. "I
see. Thank you Mildred."
- The secretary beamed. "Feel
better now you know what Mr Steele did last night, Miss Holt?"
*************************************************
"I don't think I've wasted any film for once. The camera
loves you!"
- Steele held up his hands in a self-deprecating
gesture. "Please, please! You're making me blush Marcus."
- They walked companionably towards
the exit of the studio.
- "I'm totally serious Mr Steele.
Have you ever thought about modelling?"
- "Ah Marcus, I'm afraid I cannot
afford to indulge in such vanity. The agency which proudly bears
my name is here to serve. As am I." Steele emphasised the
point by pointing to himself.
- "Well, that's great for Los
Angeles but a shame for you. With that face, I bet you'd easily
make the cover of GQ."
- "Yes Marcus, to serve diligently,
faithfully...GQ you say?"
"But what does GQ have over that feeling of helping your
fellow citizen?"
- Steele paused before continuing.
"What indeed Marcus, what indeed. Anyway as I was saying,
to serve diligently, faithfully -"
- "If it's any consolation,
our editor reckons your name and face will help push our circulation
to its best ever. All the women in the office have already reserved
two copies each!"
- "Really Marcus?" Steele
grinned broadly. "Y'know, I've long been a fan of `The
Butler Did It' remarkable publication, it's never off my
coffee table. Right next to my copies of `Life' in fact."
- "Which issue's your favourite
so far?"
- Steele feigned contemplation of
the query as he thought quickly for a way out.
- "Ah there you are Fred!"
The over-enthusiastic greeting did not go unnoticed by the chauffeur.
- "I'm afraid we'll have to
continue our conversation another time. I'm sorry but duty calls.
Clients to see, clues to ponder, that kind of thing. Crime waits
for no man! Not even Remington Steele."
- "Well, it's been an honour
to meet you and the camera really does love you Mr Steele,"
Marcus offered his hand.
- "Please, please! I'm blushing.
Thank you Marcus." He shook the photographer's hand as the
chauffeur opened a door.
- "Did your appointment go well
sir?" Fred asked as he checked his mirrors.
- "Very well Fred. Very well."
Steele picked up his newspaper.
- "Back to the office sir?"
- "Ah, no Fred. Not yet."
He checked his watch. "Miss Holt needs time to pump Mildred
for information. Why not take the scenic route to Marco's bistro,
drop me there and grab yourself some lunch too?"
- "Very good sir."
- "Good man."
- Steele smiled. A beautiful day
in Los Angeles, Laura digesting Mildred's unintentional misrepresentation
of the facts while he digested a leisurely lunch of fresh mozzarella
and roasted peppers, chicken parmigiana, tiramisu for desert
all washed down with a glass of fine Chardonnay ah yes. Flapping
open his newspaper, Steele scanned the front page. After a second,
he chuckled evilly to himself: did anyone else have this much
fun with a woman fully clothed?
*************************************************
Outside Steele's apartment, the two men glanced nervously around.
- "Shall I kick it in?"
- "No. We don't want to call
attention to ourselves. Pick the lock. I'll look out."
- "Have you got our friend Mr
Revolver with you?"
- "Cocked and ready to fire."
- Cautiously they opened the door
and stepped inside, momentarily impressed by the sumptuous surroundings
and tasteful décor. One man pointed to the right; the
other nodded and indicated left. They separated in search of
their prey. Five minutes later both ran back in the living room.
- "The bleedin' bitch has scarpered!
How the hell did she get past us?"
- "There must be a back way
out of here. Damn!"
- "Now what?"
- He paced. "We'll toss the
place and see if she's hidden the loot here. If she did - we
know she's coming back for it and we'll be waiting for her. If
it's not here, we'll take a little trip to her boyfriend's workplace
and see if she stashed it there. If it's not there, we're on
our way to the airport. She'll go back to Europe, maybe London
first. She won't stay here now that she knows we're on to her."
- "Right. By the way, what's
this geezer's nationality? There's a packet of PG Tips in the
kitchen and real Scottish shortcake biscuits in a jar. That's
too classy for a Yank! A decent cuppa at last, fancy some tea
and biscuits before we toss his flat?"
*************************************************
Felicia pushed open a door of suite 1157, slightly taken aback
by the matronly secretary cum receptionist behind the desk. What
happened to the attractive brunette?
- "Can I help you?" Mildred
took in the striking, tall, blonde carrying an overnight bag.
- "Yes. Is Mr Steele available?"
- A client obviously. She smiled.
"I'm afraid he's out on an appointment. Can -"
- "In that case, is his associate
available?"
- "Yes, Miss Holt is here but
she's on the phone. I'll just buzz -"
- "No need. We go back a long
way. This one, isn't it?" she walked in the direction of
Laura's office.
- "Yes but but but -" her
protestations fell on deaf ears. Mildred raised an eyebrow: Whoever
she was, she was no client. The secretary shook her head. Women
like that made a certain phrase spring instantly to mind: lock
up your husbands.
*************************************************
Outside Rossmore, the two men stood incredulous, hands on hips,
gazing at the empty space.
- "I don't believe this! Where's
Jimmy's car?"
- "The bleedin' bitch has done
it to us again!"
- "I'm starting to get very
angry now."
- "Look, let's stick up a car
and get the driver to take us to that place, Century something
or other, ain't it? Have you got the address?"
- "Yes, I've got it but I don't
want any heat. Let's take a taxi. Felicia can reimburse us for
all our troubles when we catch up to her."
- "Isn't it less aggro to force
someone to drive us there under gunpoint?"
- "We're here to do a job: get
the money, deal with Felicia and get out as quickly and cleanly
as possible. Alright? I don't need any complications."
- "All this because you shagged
that tart. Next time we've got a scam going and you get a hard-on
for a bird, have a wank instead."
*************************************************
"No Frances, it's not unreasonable of Donald to ask that.-I'm
on nobody's side here, I'm just trying to-Yes Frances, that's
what I said-You're kidding? Mother and I had the same opinion
on something? Good lord! -" Laura's thoughts were halted
by the door opening and a woman unceremoniously entering her
office.
- "Frances, I'm sorry I have
to go now. I'll call you back." She replaced the receiver
just as the intercom buzzed.
- "Yes Mildred?-I know-Don't
apologise, it's not your fault-It's okay. I can handle it-Oh
yes! Your appointment. Go, have a good day and we'll see you
tomorrow."
- Laura picked up her cup of coffee
and took a sip. It was piping hot. She dispassionately regarded
the person before her and waited. Eventually the silence was
broken.
- "I suppose you're wondering
what I'm doing here?"
- "Here in my office or here
in Los Angeles?" She blew on her coffee.
- "Both."
- "The thought had crossed my
mind." Laura sat back in her chair, cup in hand. It was
still too hot. Damn.
- Felicia smiled. "I just wanted
to see the face of a loser in love."
- "Oh? Looked in a mirror lately?"
- The blonde's eyes narrowed. "I
wasn't the one who stomped out of his flat last night."
- "And I wasn't the one left
alone in it this morning. He left you and came straight here.
And now he's out on an appointment. Working. For our agency.
That speaks volumes, don't you think?" Laura made another
attempt to cool down her beverage.
- " `Our agency?' How cute but
oh so desperate too! We both know that this is your enterprise.
Your sole enterprise."
- "We're partners. Have been
for nearly three years now."
- "You know, I almost pity you.
You really are labouring under this strange misconception that
you've got some kind of hold over Michael. A mistake. He'll be
leaving you and all this," Felicia waved her hand, "to
return to what he does best, with me."
- "Mr Steele," Laura emphasised
his name, "didn't go back to to that kind of life when you
were last here and he won't go back now. He's here because he
chooses to be."
- "Really? He told me last night
that he's returning to London with me. Right after we made love
for the third time. I believe my one night of passion beats your
three years together hands down."
- Laura looked her adversary straight
in the eye as she rose from her desk.
- "Mr Steele is out on business.
If you want to wait for him, I suggest you do so somewhere where
you'll be welcome. Now beat it blondie before I flatten your
nose!"
- The door opened then was quickly
shut. Both women got a glimpse of the individual and called out
his name.
-
- "Mr Steele!"
- "Michael darling!"
- The doomed man nervously stepped
in and closed the door behind him. Injecting bravado into his
voice, he enthused, "Ah Miss Holt! Felicia. I was just going
to make a spot of tea for -"
- Laura smiled. Too sweetly. "Later,"
she insisted.
- He recognised that particular tone
and inwardly winced.
- "How did our photo
shoot with `The Butler Did It' go?"
- "Oh fine, fine." Steele
dug his hands deeply in his pockets. "The camera loves me."
He directed an apprehensive little laugh at his partner before
glaring at his former lover.
- Felicia straightened his lapels.
"Well, isn't this cosy darling? I was just saying to Lisa
-"
- "Laura," he supplied
automatically.
- "Lisa, that London's wonderful
at this time of year -"
- "October?"
- "- for those beautiful crisp
autumn days as the countdown to Christmas begins in earnest.
I bet you can't wait."
- "Hmmm. It's a -" Steele
tried to play for time until realisation dawned. "What can't
I wait for?"
- "To return to London with
me, of course! You silly darling."
- "I'm going back to London?"
He gaped at Laura as he asked the question. Had she uncovered
the ruse and thrown him out in his absence? Good grief, it was
only a bit of harmless fun. Hardly a reason for such extreme
punishment!
- Felicia directed a triumphal glance
at her competition. "There. What did I tell you?"
- The door suddenly burst open, startling
all in the room. One of the men was armed with a revolver and
the other had a knife.
- "What is going on here?"
Laura cried.
- Steele raised his hands. "Everyone
just stay icy calm, okay? Icy calm."
- The man with the gun spoke first.
"Over there, where I can see you. MOVE!"
- The bemused group shuffled to the
back of Laura's office, backs to her window.
- The man with the gun inclined his
head towards the man with the knife. "That's Reginald. We
call him Reggie for short."
- "And that's Ronald. We call
him Ronnie `cos it's quicker."
- "How quaint." Steele
observed sardonically then suppressed a groan as the heel of
Laura's shoe dug into his toes.
- "Alright Felicia, where is
it?"
- "You know these people?"
Steele turned to her in astonishment.
- Laura rolled her eyes. "Figures."
- "Ronald darling, I did borrow
the car but I've parked it downstairs in the -"
- The sound of the revolver being
cocked permeated the air.
- "My patience has run out Felicia.
You've led us a right merry dance all the way from London. Where's
the loot?"
- "The loot?" Laura asked.
- "What loot?" Steele queried.
- "Wait Ronnie, she's got a
bag with `er. Get `er to kick it over."
- "You heard him Felicia. Do
it. Slowly."
- Reluctantly, she complied. "Ronald,
sweetie this is all a slight misunderstanding. However, I fully
understand why you've got the wrong end of the stick but let
me explain and -"
- "Shut up. You've made a fool
of me Felicia and that's not something I take lightly. Search
the bag, Reggie."
- "Look gentlemen, I promise
you I have absolutely no idea what this is all about but -"
- "You're Remington Steele,
aren't you?"
- "Yes, I am. You're both from
London aren't you? I didn't realise my fame was so strong on
that side of the Atlantic -" In spite of their predicament
he couldn't help feeling flattered and glorying in the recognition.
Laura easily discerned his line of thinking and rolled her eyes
again.
- "What are you doing in L.A?
What's going on?" Steele continued.
- "It's here Ronnie."
- "Count it Reggie. How much
of it did you spend Felicia?"
- She was resolutely silent until
Steele nudged her. "A couple of thousand. Or five. Nearer
six."
- "Six grand! You spent six
grand of my money!"
- "Our money, Ronnie."
- "It's my money too. I deserved
a substantial cut. I did all the hard work with Lady Tomlinson.
You two oiks wouldn't have been able to get near her. Unless
you were cleaning her chimneys, of course." Felicia flicked
her hair.
- "Sarky cow! Watch yer mouth
or I'll cut you a new one!"
- "Calm down Reggie, don't let
her upset you or you'll lose concentration. Keep counting."
- "Look, you've got your money
now but would someone mind telling me just what the bloody hell's
going on here?" The tone in his voice was one both women
knew very well. He was starting to lose his temper.
- "You don't get off lightly
Steele. We know you and her were working together. You were in
on it too."
- "What!" Laura exclaimed.
- "In on what? Felicia, talk
fast and pronto! What have you so conveniently embroiled me in
this time, eh?"
- "There's just over twenty-three
grand here, Ronnie."
- "What!" Steele and Laura
exclaimed simultaneously.
- "Consider that money you prematurely
borrowed your cut Felicia. You're getting no more out of it."
- "You can't be serious? After
all the tedious charity work I did? After all the tiresome hobnobbing
and stifling social rounds I endured to put my face in that social
circuit so that your little scheme would work?"
- "What scheme?" Steele
demanded.
- Ronnie frowned. "Wait a minute,
are you telling me that you really don't know what's going on?"
- "On my life, I haven't a clue.
Actually let me rephrase that. I swear I have no idea what this
is all about."
- "But she went to your flat
last night. We trailed her there. Why would she go there if you
weren't in on it too?"
- "In on what? Ronnie, wasn't
it? Look, Ronnie, Felicia and I are - old friends. She needed
somewhere to stay and that's the truth. Now what's this all about?"