**second installment is up! i spent alot of time on Laura and Remington because they may be unfamilar to some people, but don't worry i'll be back in metropolis for some LnC the next go round enjoy**
Henry-
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LA, California 9:13 a.m.
“Step on it Fred. The meeting is in fifteen minutes mate, and thanks to Mrs. Steele we’re incalculably late.” Remington and Laura were seated in the back of their new black Lincoln Town Car; one of several new, tax deductible, additions to the agency’s capital goods.
“I beg your pardon!” she spat incredulously
“Come now Laura, if you didn’t have such an obstinate appetite for the temptations of the flesh we would have been in the office an hour ago.”
“So, am I to believe that out little interlude this morning was my fault. Is that what you’re telling me?” Laura looked over at Remington, and wished she had the time to properly wipe that smug little half smirk he was sporting off his face permanently
“Of course not Laura; I’m simply suggesting you control your...uh urges, such as they are, until we are in a position to properly execute them.” Laura stared at him exasperated, but not too much so that she couldn’t enjoy the playful nature of the banter they so often participated in.
She knew full well that that Remington was only teasing her, in order to get her gander up. Some day’s she refused to rise to the bait content to give him the upper hand, and retaking her advantage later that evening. This morning however she was in ready and willing to meet his challenge.
A new client had contacted them, or more specifically Mildred, the previous evening. They hadn’t left the specifics for the reason they had called; Mildred was simply told the time of the meeting, and that a two-hudred thousand dollar retainer would be given to the agency should they accept the case.
As soon as Remington had heard this he’d become his usual animate self, going on and on about the various luxuries two-hundred thousand dollars could bring the agency. And Laura had to concede his point. Not that the agency needed the money quite the opposite in fact; they'd been doing remarkably well. The solve rate was at an all time high, and returns had been more lucrative then ever.
Fred pulled the limo up to Side Street outside Century Plaza, and quickly moved to the passenger side door to let Mr. and Mrs. Steele out of the car.
“Thank You Fred.” Laura said as she made her way to the main door.
“Thanks mate.” Remington said with a curt nod.And he followed Laura into the building holding the door for her.
When they reached the elevator two men in gray Dickey’s painter uniforms boarded alongside them. The darkness that permeated through the small chamber prevented Steele from getting a good look at his two traveling companions; always the amiable gentleman, Steele attempted to make polite conversation. “Good morning gentleman” Remington greeted good naturedly “lovely day don’t you think?” The two men remained ever silent. Looking straight ahead at the door.
If Remington noticed their lack of response he did nothing to show it; he continued to speak as if he conversed with perfect strangers everyday “Doing some painting I see. Excellent, a few of the offices on the upper levels have begun to peel. Water damage the insurance adjusters said. I’m just thankful we managed to avoid the brunt of it; not that we couldn’t afford to pay for the repairs, but I’m rather reluctant to be relocated.”
The two men continued their obstinate silence, and Steele, deciding to cut his losses, spent the remainder of his ascent admiring his wife’s slender yet well toned body.
The elevator stopped at the thirtieth floor with a cheerful ding, and the Steele’s disembarked. “Good day gentlemen” Steele said jovially as he and Laura set off for their office.
As they turned the corner Steele finally got a chance to take a good look at the taller of the two men. Upon closer inspection two things stood out to him immediately: first; the man’s suit was covered from neck to heel in white paint, but his shoes were completely spotless, in fact they looked brand new, second; on his left wrist he wore an eleven hundred dollar Cartier watch something Remington knew a painter would be hard pressed to afford. For the first time Steele took a really good look at the man he'd shared an elavator with, and got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was defiantly off about him the way he stood the way he was dressed and not to mention the sophisticated air that poured off him in droves.
He was an older gentleman late fifties early sixties with a snow white beard that covered his chin and upper lip. His eyes were slightly sunken in, and his mouth was drawn into what looked like a permant frown. If he hadn't been wearing a painter uniform Remington would have mistaken him for a butler.
As the doors closed the man looked up to see Steele studying him. He smirked at him menacingly, and continued to do so until the doors closed. with that the two men again began to move upward through the building.
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Roof of Century Plaza 9:45 a.m.
“You think that Steele fella noticed anything” the second man asked in a distinct Irish brogue. “He was cuttin his eyes at ya like he suspected somthin.” He fidgeted nervously with his front pocket. From there he produced a pack of menthol cigarettes, and lit one. Bringing it to his mouth, he took two long drags to calm his nerves.
“Don’t be preposterous.” The second man said staring in disgust at his compatriot. “My employer insured me that Steele would be completely ignorant of our operation.” * If only he’d hired a more capable associate for me to work with.* He thought sardonically. “Besides our friend should have made contact with Steele by now, and our proposition will be more than enough to distract him.”
The first man reached into the pocket of his uniform and retrieved a small black two-way radio, and proceeded to talk into it. “are you there?”
A cultured feminine voice crackled over the radio in response to his inquiry.
“I read you loud and clear”
“What is your current position?”
“I’m right outside Steele’s office; I’ll be in momentarily.”
“Excellent. Remember the plan, and whatever you do don’t deviate from it.”
“Understood. Over and out”
The man rang off, and returned to his post at the edge of the roof. There was nothing left to do now but wait.
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The Remington Steele Detective Agency hadn’t changed much in the 13 years since its opening. The walls remained a stalwart “Trusty Worthy Gray” in appearance. The reception area still contained the same 7 individual chairs that had been the norm since the 80’s. Three offices a reception desk and a storage closet occupied the rest of the office space.
The first office, and the smallest, was the only room with the exception of the storage closet that remained unoccupied. It had once been the office of Murphy Michaels a long time friend and associate of Laura’s, but after his first year of working along side Mr. Steele he decided to cut his losses and start his own agency in Denver. Since then the office had been vacant.
The second office belonged to Laura Holt-Steele. This office was only marginally larger then the first and was filled floor to ceiling with old case files, memorandums, computer printouts, and other such paper work all meticulously stacked and filed down to the letter. Laura was nothing if not organized, and the way she kept her office reflected that to the nth degree. This was one of the things about her that drove Steele up the wall. For the life of him he couldn’t figure how anyone could be so structured. Especially someone who was as spontaneous as Laura .
The third and final office was the largest and most ostentatious by far. This was were , for lack of a better word,Mr. Steele worked. before the day Steele had breezed confidently into the namesake of the investigation firm, this office had been nothing more then a show piece to convince clients of Steele’s position as boss. In reality little or no work was done in there. The nuts and bolts portions of the operation were usually hashed out in Laura’s office. In the years since his employment by Laura, Steele had picked up a thing or two about the detective business, and had even managed to aid in solving several key cases. However his main function, and it was one he gladly performed, was to meet clients something he was only to glad to do.He was also the man slated to put on a show for the press another duty he was happy to undertake. His natural showmanship and outgoing personality made him the perfect media darling, and much to Laura’s chagrin it had only served to stroke his already over inflated ego.
At the reception desk Mildred Krebbs, the secretary for Remington Steele Investigations for over 10 years, was hard at work ferreting out information on a license plate number Laura had requested a few minutes ago. The older woman studied her computer screen diligently. Scouring the document before her for any matches. Most people would probably find this sort of work painstakingly dull. Mildred however thrived in this sort of environment.
Mildred’s former employment had been as an IRS agent, but it didn’t hold a candle to excitement and sense of fulfillment she received working for the Steele’s. She’d been with them since almost the beginning, and had seen them through thick and thin. At first she, like everyone else, had been fooled into believing that the man seated on the other side of the main office door was in fact the great Remington Steele. She’d regarded him in an almost god like fashion for three years never once suspecting he was anything other then what he said. The day she’d found out he was nothing more then a cut rate con man playing a role had been a sad one indeed. In the preceding weeks she’d been in a state of disillusionment angry with her boss, or rather fake boss, for lying to her for so long. She'd eventually come to terms with the deception, and since then taken on the role of mother hen. Watching her "kids" and making sure that all was well between them.
The door chimed announcing the arrival of the 9:30 client.
Mildred looked up from her computer to find a leggy dark skinned woman standing before her. Her long brown hair curled seductively around her shoulders and her professional, yet slightly revealing business attire attracted attention to her more prominent features. “How may I help you miss…?”
“I have an appointment to see Mr. Steele. I apologize for the delay, but my chauffer had a problem finding a place to park.” She purred in a smooth cultured accent Mildred couldn’t quite place.
“I’ll let Mr. Steele know you’re here Ms…?
“Thank you.”
So much for a friendly hello Mildred thought as she pushed the intercom button connecting her to Mr. Steele’s office. “Mr. Steel, your 9:30 is here.”
“Thank you Mildred, send her please.”
“You can go in now.” Mildred said coolly not wanting to betray her professionalism . Not surprisingly she had an instant disliking for this mystery woman.
