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?"
"Go on Ronnie, tell him before we kill them. Might as well now that we've got the loot back."
"You're a Brit so you know how much the knobs love their dogs, right? This was a dog-napping scam. We targeted Lady Tomlinson and her Yorkshire Terrier first but we needed someone well spoken, someone who could enter her social circle, gain her trust so that we could get to know her movements. We put the word around and Felicia's name kept cropping up so we met her and told her our plan. Anyway, things got kind of heated between me and Felicia -"
"Heated?" Laura prompted as Steele directed a lopsided grin at his former lover.
Ronnie seemed embarrassed. "- so when she convinced me that it would work better if she combined her role and acted as the go-between too, I agreed to it. She told me that she'd persuade Lady Tomlinson not to go to the Old Bill once we took the dog and her ladyship received the ransom note. She insisted it would work because she had a foolproof cover. She said she'd tell Lady Tomlinson that she used to work with Remington Steele and -"
"What!" Laura exclaimed.
"- that he was a famous private investigator in Los Angeles. That way, if her ladyship chose to verify her claim by calling the great Remington Steele himself to see if he existed -"
"Bingo," Steele added wryly.
"She also mentioned that she'd spin some yarn about how often that sort of stuff came up, that she was used to handling it, et cetera. Anyway, it all went without a hitch. We took the dog, sent the note and Lady Tomlinson paid up the thirty grand we demanded. Felicia met us at the designated place, gave us a bag with the money and we gave her the pooch to return to the old bag. We were home and dry however, it turns out that there was only a grand in the bag. She'd arranged it to look like the entire thing was filled with money but underneath the pound notes there was only paper and -"
"The greedy cow scarpered with our money and that's why we're here." Reggie put in.
Felicia directed a poisonous glare at him. "You are so uncouth."
"I don't care how much you flatter me luv, I'm not giving you one."
"One what? Inch?"
He flicked his knife, "Why you mouthy tart! I should -"
"Cool it Reggie, our work here is done. Let's get this over with and go back to London."
Laura slapped her thighs. "Oh that's just wonderful! That's just peachy! Every time a woman from your past reappears, it puts my neck on the line too!"
"If you recall Miss Holt, my neck's been right there alongside yours! And let's not forget that both women neglected to inform me of their contrivances! I suggest we leave our daily altercation aside for a moment until I find out if I'm going to live through this one. If I survive, I'll argue with you next, okay?"
Reggie laughed. "Bloomin' `ell! It looks like we've walked smack bang into the middle of a ménage á deux!"
"Actually, the correct terminology is ménage á trois -" Ronnie pointed the gun. "-but who's counting?" Steele finished with a shrug of his shoulders.

Laura raised her arm. "Might I venture a proposition?"
Everyone stared at her.
"Look, irrespective of what you were told, the fact is that neither Mr Steele nor I had any prior knowledge of this scheme of yours. We are innocent pawns. The way I see it, there's no need to kill us. What would you gain? At the moment your crime is one you committed on English soil and if your police are half the force we all know them to be, they'll arrest you both for it eventually. That's good enough for me. Besides, this office is loaded with secret cameras gentlemen: you wouldn't get away with it and I really don't think you want to add homicide to your list of misdemeanours as that would mean serving time in an American jail. Have you ever done American time before? It really does sort the men from the boys. Or the men from the girls, if you catch my drift. So if I was you, I'd take the money and go. Enjoy your freedom while you can. You're just wasting precious time with us."
Ronnie lowered his gun. "Come on Reggie. Let's get the car and get out of here."
"Yeah. Let's go. Bleedin' Los Angeles! By the way mate, thanks for the tea and biscuits. First decent cuppa we got in this place. Sorry we had to toss your flat but we were looking for the loot, you understand right? If it's any consolation, I didn't slash anything and nothing was broken either. We were very restrained really. Mainly `cos you're a fellow Brit and you won't believe how civilised a cup of tea made us feel before we went about our work."
Ronnie picked up the bag and gestured to Reggie. They closed the door behind them.
Steele looked at Laura: a certain expression set firmly on her face, hands on her hips. He turned to his left and glanced at his former lover: arms crossed, countenance unreadable.
Flustered, he rubbed his hands. "Coffee, anyone?"

*************************************************

At the sound of the buzzer, Steele checked his watch and grinned as he strode towards the door.
"Ah Laura! Come in, come in."
"Thank you. Mmmm. What's that lovely smell?"
"Dinner. I'm cooking -"
"You're entertaining someone tonight, Mr Steele? Why didn't you say? Look, don't worry. I'll see you at the office -"
"No-no-no Laura. It's okay, I'm cooking dinner for us and -"
"This isn't a date you know. I'm not here to -"
"I know. I just knew you'd come tonight. As a friend only. A concerned friend, right?"
"Right." Laura smiled. "I was going to help you clear up but it looks like you've beaten me to it." She glanced around her. "What kind of state did they leave your apartment in?"
"I've seen it worse."
"You have?"
"Hmm. So have you."
"I have?"
"Yes. That time you put me on the committee to save the bald eagle. Remember? The role of honorary chairman as I recall. Anyway, I returned to find this place upside down and you sleeping on my couch. I'd trash this apartment myself, if that's what it takes to get you to spend the night!"
"Well, no harm done. Nothing broken. I'm glad."
Steele backed away. "I'm just going to see to dinner. Don't want it to burn, do we?"
"Okay." Laura clapped her hands and exhaled. Walking over to the `Notorious' picture frame, she straightened it and stepped purposely towards the kitchen. Steele was busy chopping and preparing vegetables.
"Meat or fish?" Laura asked automatically.
"Meat," he responded in kind.
She walked over to his wine rack. "Chianti or Cabernet?"
"Ah, Cabernet. I think. Yes, Cabernet."
"To breathe, or not to breathe?"
"Ten minutes should do it."
As Laura uncorked the wine, she unconsciously continued with their well-worn routine. Spotting the pattern of highly intimate pre-Cannes evenings, Steele turned away to hide a smile. Laura began the task of laying the table.
"Table bare or covered?"
"Bare. We'll just use mats."
She opened a drawer, made her selection and moved towards the dining area.
"Water in glasses or a jug?" she called out to him.
"A jug. I'm rather thirsty tonight."
"Two courses or three?"
"Just two."
"Which two?"
"Main course and dessert."
"What dessert?"
"Cheesecake."
"Cheesecake? Sounds wonderful."
"It will be wonderful," he responded.
Laura strolled back to the kitchen and popped a slice of carrot into her mouth. "Table's done."
He drained some liquid from a pan over the sink. "Okay. Thanks."
Stealing over to him, she laid her head against his back, snaked her arms around his waist, pulled his shirt free and let her hands wander across his bare chest. "Mmm. That feels good Laura. A little lower please."
Recollecting herself sharply, she backed away. "Oh Mr Steele, I'm sorry! I forgot, force of habit and -"
"It's alright Miss Holt. No harm done, mores the pity!" he grinned.
Blushing furiously she hunted around for something to do. "I'll just take these."
"Yes, yes. You do that." He knew what she was doing and it amused him.
Picking up the dishes that he'd already served food into, she set them down, scolded herself and resolved to act more composed.
A couple of minutes later, Steele emerged with the final vegetable dish and a plate with the roast, now sliced.
"Smells delicious. It smells like -"
"Canard á Vin Rouge." He placed the last part of their meal on the table and pulled out Laura's chair for her.
"Thank you," she smiled. He returned it.

*************************************************

The conversation between the two friends flowed easily and the sound of laughter filled the air. They were sitting on the couch, drinking coffee as Ralph Kramden ranted away on the TV.
"That again? You still won't let me forget it, will you? It's not my fault a case came up at that particular moment Mr Steele!"
"It happened so many times that I'm personally nominating the phrase, `Holtus interruptus' for the English language!"
Laura playfully hit him, sipped her beverage and then observed, "Who'd have thought that a man like Ronnie would succumb to the charms of your former associate?"
Steele stared at her for a moment before saying, "No, Laura. I didn't know Felicia was coming here last night."
Without missing a beat, she continued. "I shouldn't feel sorry for Ronnie but he actually looked embarrassed at his little romantic tight spot. Was that your impression?"
"Felicia slept in my bed. I slept on the couch. If I can abuse the word and call it sleep that is."
"Y'know, this whole thing reminded me somewhat of Kevin Masters and Doolittle. Dog-napping and intrigue. Didn't you find yourself recalling them when Ronnie related his seemingly foolproof plan?"
"Yes, she asked me to go back to Europe with her."
"Can you believe that anyone would pay thirty thousand pounds just to get their dog back? What is that in dollars? Nearly fifty thousand?"
"Yes, I took her to the airport."
"Reggie and Ronnie. What a strange pair! How have they survived as criminals all this time? They were taken in so easily by two women. Ironic, huh?"
"No, I didn't wait for her to board the plane."
"God, I hope we've seen the last of them. They won't be back here, will they? I mean, they've got no reason to now. Right?"
"Yes, I kissed her goodbye. For old times sake. Very old times."
"I can't believe how easily our agency was dragged into that mess! We were lucky they were stupid and not sadistic. It really was a close one, wasn't it?"
"Yes Laura I'm sure I made the right choice. Staying here. As Remington Steele. No. I've no regrets."
"Crazy day Mr Steele."
He placed his mug on the table in front of him then shifted on the couch to look at her. She caught the expression on his face and took a sip of her coffee.
"All in the line of duty for us, eh Miss Holt?"
Laura met his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yes, I realise now that you were having a huge laugh at my expense. Ha, ha. Very funny."
"It's no skin off our nose to continually face these trials and tribulations. We can handle it, can't we?"
"Okay, Mr Steele. You're right, I suppose I deserved it for immediately jumping to the wrong conclusion."
"In fact, it's just another example of how well we work together as a team. Down in the trenches, side by side. Would you really have it any other way?"
"Yes, poor Mildred unintentionally prolonged your awful little façade."
"Did I mention how well that photo shoot went today? Great PR for the agency Laura, eh?"
"Yes, it was a little beneath you to use Mildred like that. But I'll admit that if the situation were reversed, I probably would have done the same thing too."
"The camera loves me, Miss Holt. I'm told that I could model for GQ. Remarkable isn't it?"
"No, I haven't forgiven you yet for putting me through that. Maybe in fifteen minutes or so."
They smiled at each other.
"A crazy day indeed Miss Holt."
He got up off the couch and stretched his limbs. Then he moved towards his video collection
shuffling through tapes until he found what he was looking for. Slotting the cassette into the VCR, he dimmed the lights and sat back on the sofa.
"What are you doing?" Laura queried.
"Citizen Kane," Steele answered.
"I feel asleep through it last time. Why are you putting it on again?"
"You fell asleep in my arms, remember? Just a little science experiment to see if lightning strikes
twice!"
She shook her head and didn't have to say the word. He knew what he was. "You spoil me with your cooking. The food was delicious. Thank you."
"It's the only way you let me pamper you."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "It is?"
"Hmm."
"You mean, when you cook for me it's -"
"An invisible embrace? Something like that," he crossed his arms and settled back on the sofa pleased that she was unconsciously leaning against him.
"Mr Steele."
"Hmmm?"
"Just out of curiosity, you understand."
"Yes?"
"What do you think of Princess Leia?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You're not talking about a Princess Leia from some minor European royal family by any chance, are you?"
"No."
"This is a question about the Princess Leia of `Star Wars' played by Carrie Fisher? The Twentieth Century Fox blockbuster made in 1977?"
"That's the one. Well, that and `Return Of The Jedi' and the other one, I forget its name."
" `The Empire Strikes Back,' Twentieth Century Fox, 1980. A seminal entry in the trilogy due to the revelation that Darth Vader is -"
"So, what do you think of Princess Leia?" She tried to keep her tone nonchalant.

He raised an eyebrow. "You, querying an aspect of a movie? What's brought this on Miss Holt?"
"I was having a discussion with a friend of mine and he -"
"He? He who?"
"It's not important who he is. Anyway, somehow we got on the subject of Princess Leia and he mentioned that she looked very nice in Return Of The Jedi, that's all. I just wondered if you shared that point of view."
Unsure as to where the cross-examination was going, Steele stalled for time. "Can you be more specific, Miss Holt?"
"Well, I understand she caused quite a stir in Return Of The Jedi, something to do with a bikini and -"
"Oh my word! She caused a stir all right. Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!"
Laura picked up her cup. "You know, I've heard that it's not entirely uncommon for some people to see that semi-naked Princess Leia, especially in that bikini - and let their imaginations wander in a very personal way."
"You mean fantasize? About Princess Leia? Is that what you're inferring Miss Holt?"
"It's what I've heard."
"Well, I suppose some people do let their imaginations wander in that direction."
There was silence for a second. Laura drank her coffee. Steele pondered her question, reached for his mug and took a sip.
Eventually, he cleared his throat. "Y'know I've got an image which beats Princess Leia in Return Of The Jedi, bikini et al, hands down."
"You have?"
"Hmm. It happened at a dentist convention. It involves a slender woman, auburn hair wearing a very revealing navy blue top, five buttons, none fastened. A lavender belt around her waist, a wonderfully wicked black mini-skirt and black knee-high boots. She tipped the contents of her purse on the floor and had to bend over to retrieve them. I got an eyeful of virtually bare legs, of thighs, of hips. A sight that warms me up on cold, winter nights - or it would do if there were such a thing as cold, winter nights in Los Angeles. At that very moment, I knew there was a God."
From nowhere, a warm feeling enveloped her and she snuggled closer.
"So, you're not one of those people who chooses Princess Leia for a fantasy?"
"Princess Leia has never called me by my name Laura. Nor is she likely to."
"Calling out your name? Well, I'm certainly used to doing that Mr Steele."
In spite of herself, she smiled into her coffee as he gave her a quizzical look.
"You know, Citizen Kane revolves around a name too. The name `Rosebud' it's uttered at the beginning of the film and an audience is enthralled, captivated, wondering exactly when we'll find out who or what `Rosebud' is."
She turned to face him. "What is it?"
"Ah, now that would be telling, wouldn't it Miss Holt?"

"I hate it when you do that. I guess I'll just have to try and stay awake this time."
"Don't worry Laura, I promise you all will be revealed at the very end. First, the identity of `Rosebud' then the naked splendour of your body followed by mine. We'll adjourn to my bedroom and -"
"Mr Steele, let's watch the movie."
Ten minutes into the film, he ventured a question. "Feeling sleepy yet?"

THE END
************************************************
Back Home CaseBook E-Mail