The door of the grandiose office opened broadly to reveal the great Remington Steele seated comfortably behind his desk. The woman took in his appearance, and decided she liked what she saw. His dark almost jet black hair accentuated his steel blue eyes and lush lower lip. He had a broad smile on his face which revealed his straight white teeth, and slight laugh lines.
He wore an, obviously, custom-made suite which she recognized as one of Guido’s an expensive private tailor downtown. On his left hand he wore a gold plated bracelet with the initials R.S embroidered on in it a curvy script, and on fourth finger of his left hand he wore two rings. One was a simple gold band with no outwardly distinguishing features. The second was eye-catching in appearance as it was brilliant platinum with several sky blue stones surrounding a square cut diamond that resided in the middle of the ring.
The man obviously had great taste.
Her perusal of his appearance, having only taken a few seconds, ended when Steele stood from behind his desk and made his way around the front of it. He extended his hand in greeting and spoke “Remington Steele. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
“The pleasure’s all mine Mr. Steele, but I’d prefer if we skipped over the pleasantries. I have a matter of great importance I need to discuss with you.” At this she retrieved several files from her leather briefcase, and took a seat on one of the couches that lined the office wall.
Remington followed and sat on the opposite side of her crossing his legs at the knee. “Actually, I’d prefer if we waited for my associate. I’m sure she’d be very interested in the particulars of this case.” He looked longingly at the connecting door to Laura’s office, and willed her to walk in. Not that he couldn’t handle a client meeting, quite the opposite, it was just that this case seemed especially technical thusly more to Laura’s liking.
“I was under the impression that this was your firm Mr. Steele.” She offered with a slight smirk. “I assumed I’d be dealing with you exclusively, but if we must wait then I suppose I have no choice.” She leaned back in her seat and gave Steele an almost predatory glance. She’d never imagined the great detective Remington Steele would be so…whipped.
As if he’d read her thoughts Remington smiled politely and spoke “Ms. Holt and I work best as a team each of us incorporating our own specialties into each case.”
“And your Ms. Holt, what exactly is her specialty?” she said glancing with an icy smile at Steele.
He smiled back, in a calm manner he usually reserved for such occasions when people undermined Laura’s position in his life, and commented smoothly “MY Ms. Holt, is an invaluable and irreplaceable member of this firm. She has a higher solve rate then any other Private Investigator in the state of California, and has been decorated for bravery more times then I can count by the LAPD. Her specialty as you so aptly put it is none of your concern. All you need know is that without her I would be nothing, and this firm would be non existent. One would even go so far as to say she made my career.” Steele paused briefly and took in the woman’s expression. She was still wearing a smug smile, but behind that he could see a glint of respect and resignation at his words. “If this is in any way a problem for you then I suggest you find a different detective agency. I will not tolerate Ms. Holt being treated with anything less then the full amount of respect she deserves.” With that final declaration Steele returned to his original position on the couch, and resumed his polite smile.
“I meant no disrespect Mr. Steele.” She said coolly “If you insist on waiting for your assistant then we shall.”
Steele again glanced at Laura’s door. What’s taking so bloody long? He wondered usually Laura’s the paragon of punctuality. The one time we have a really big case she decides to be late--
Suddenly, as if by the power of suggestion, Laura walked into the room. Smiling brightly she bent to shake hands with the woman and proceeded to introduced herself “Laura Holt. I’m Mr. Steele’s associate I’m sorry for being late, but I had some urgent business to attend to.”
“It’s quite alright Ms. Holt you’re just in time.” Laura nodded and took a seat next to a still smiling Remington.
The woman crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap as she began “The matter I contacted you about is a very serious one indeed.” She started, taking a deep breath she continued “Several days ago a jeweler by the name of Albert Haas was killed in his shop. According to several eyewitnesses four men came into the shop, and began smashing cases. The leader of the group drew a large sawed off shotgun and started yelling at Haas in German. It was later determined that the gunmen had been shouting at him to ‘open the safe’. When Haas refused, he was shot point blank in the chest, and died in transit to the hospital.”
She paused briefly as Mildred came in with a tray of refreshments. Placing them on the table she left as suddenly as she came.
The woman poured herself a glass of water, and having taken a sip continued her narrative. “The assailants made off with several million dollars worth of antique diamond jewelry and several loose stones. The police initially listed the event as a simple break in.”
“They have reason to suspect differently now do they?” Steele asked as Laura took notes diligently.
“Yes, after Mr. Haas’ business partner Felix Burmeister discovered several documents missing from the filing cabinets; he contacted me. Those documents detailed the location of gems more precious then diamonds, and were supposed to be a government classified secret.”
Laura looked up suddenly “If the government was keeping their location secret, then why did Mr. Haas have those documents?”
“That information is classified Ms. Holt, but I can tell you that Mr. Haas was working in collaboration with the military on a project involving those stones. Which is why this is such a serious matter. If those stones were to get into the wrong hands it could be a potentially serious national security threat.” She moved forward in her seat to retrieve the two manila folders that had been placed on the table and handed them to Steele and Laura. “The first document there is a profile of the suspected mastermind behind the heist Dimitri Nowitski . He’s a former KGB spy who defected in the early 80’s. His last known location was a small compound in Siberia; currently he’s the leader of a radical terrorist group known as The Hammer of Thor.”
“I’ve never heard of them.” Steele said
“It’s not surprising Mr. Steele. Most people in our own government aren’t aware they even exist. They received a red flag from the NSA a few years ago when MI-5 reported their presence at a secret uranium purchase. They were outbid, but I assure you they are just as dangerous as some of the more infamous terrorist cells around the world, and twice as determined. They’ll stop at nothing to achieve their objective.”
“As much as I’d relish the idea of involving myself in the government’s dirty little secrets” Steele commented dryly “I’m still having trouble ascertaining why you contacted us. After all isn’t this what the CIA is for.”
“Well Mr. Steele” the woman replied with a slight hint of embarrassment “currently the higher ups are unaware of the situation. The only ones in the know are myself, Felix Burmeister, General Brody, and my direct superior at the CIA Stuart Trevainian.” She paused, again taking another sip of water, and then continued “the reason we contacted you Mr. Steele is because we’d rather keep this particular incident from getting back to the White House, for reasons’ that are our own. Also, because of your previous cooperation with the CIA in matters of a particularly delicate nature; we’ve concluded that you can be discreet where national security is concerned.”
“You don’t trust your own operatives.” Laura stated plainly.
“It’s not that we don’t trust them” she said quickly “but we’ve received intelligence that there may be a leak within in our ranks. We simply can’t risk exposing ourselves or this operation by trusting the wrong people.”
“And how are you so certain that we can be trusted?” Steele queried
“As I’ve said before Mr. Steele you record speaks for itself. We are also prepared to offer you two-hundred thousand dollars as a retainer, and an additional one-million upon completion of the job.”
Steele’s jaw dropped. 1.2 million was A LOT of money. More then he’d ever seen in one place at one time (legitimately anyway) with that kind of money he could easily afford to give Laura the life she deserved. Better not screw this one up old boy, Remington thought.
“That’s a very tempting offer, but how do we know we can trust you? Are we just supposed to take you at your word, and while I’m at it how do we know you are who you say you are? You could very well be working for this Nowitski character using us to do his dirty work.” Laura said defiantly, looking at the woman for any sign of hesitance or dishonesty in her eyes. Not surprisingly she saw none.
“You are free to doubt me all you like Miss Holt; actually I encourage it. You wouldn’t be the great Remington Steele Detective Agency if you didn’t do some checking into people’s stories. That’s why I’ve brought you legal documentation; in the file your holding Mr. Steele is a signed statement from my superior Mr. Trevainian. You will be contacted by him later this evening before your plane leaves. As soon as you land in Metropolis you’ll be briefed by him in person.”
“Metropolis! But that’s bloody near two thousand miles away.” Steele commented incredulously.
“If it’s the expense Mr. Steele then you need not worry. The CIA will be paying for all of your expenses, and I have your plane tickets right here. Along with the two hundred thousand dollar retainer.” She put extra emphasis on the two hundred thousand dollar part, and that did not go unnoticed by Laura.
She had her reservations about this whole thing, and planned on doing thorough background check on the information she was given. For now however she had no choice but to believe the woman—another thing was bothering Laura; why hadn’t she told them her name?
Again, as if to give testament to some kind of psychic link between them, Steele spoke “Well Laura and I will of course meticulously research the information you’ve given us. However, as we have no course to doubt you, I am happy to say that we’ll gladly take on any case the US government is willing to offer.”
“Excellent” the woman said as she stood “Trevainian should contact you by 7:00 tonight, and I will be your contact while in Metropolis.”
Laura and Steele both stood and walked with her to the door. Then as if it were an after thought she turned and said “if there are any problems just call this number” she handed Laura a business card with a number scrawled on the back in a distinctly feminine pen. “ask whomever answers to speak to me” at that she turned again and headed out the door.
“and what exactly are we expected to call you Miss…?” Remington asked.
In response to Remington’s inquiry she smiled, her brown eye’s gleaming, with one final look at the detective she spoke “you may call me Mrs. Cox” and with that she was gone.
Roof of Century Plaza 10:45 a.m.
Nigel St. John Smiled triumphantly as he listened to the conclusion of the conversation. Things were going according to the plan, and that always made him happy. Mr. Luthour had chosen well when he’d contacted Mrs. Cox her performance for Steele had been Oscar worthy. It was always a pleasure to work with professionals such as Cox, his current companion Jason O’Neil however had been a thorn in his side since the day he’d met him.
Nigel had been one of her majesty’s best in his hay day, and even though he’d eventually defected for more lucrative work he’d never gotten over the feeling of excitement he felt after a job well done. Presently he was staring off into the Los Angelus skyline contemplation the second step of the plan.
Trevainian had already been blackmailed, and it hadn’t taken much coercion to get him to go along with the plan. That egomaniac didn’t need it Nigel thought, as soon as he heard we were after Superman his greedy little eyes lit up like Christmas. Nigel hated the man with a passion matched only by his hate of the Lane woman. She was, regrettably, not to be harmed at any stage in the plan.
“you think it worked? Do ya think Steele and his little lap dog bought it?” Jason asked, interrupting him from his contemplation.
“We’ll know soon enough.” Nigel said “I do believe Mrs. Cox was most convincing, if I didn’t know her the way I do I would have fallen for it hook line and sinker.”
“What about Trevainian?” Jason asked just before he lit another cigarette
“Don’t concern yourself with him; my employer has already taken care of it.” Nigel turned back to the skyline content to let the matter drop, but Jason had other ideas.
“I don’t trust that Cox woman she seems a bit funny to me.” Nigel rolled his eyes. Jason continued “I mean she killed her husband didn’t she, I mean I know the cops convicted the other guy, but still.”
Nigel chuckled as he remembered exactly how Mrs. Cox had dispatched her husband.
Jay Hugh Cox, had been a man of the stage an actor from sun up to sun down. Ever since high school he’d been the lead in every play he tried out for; due in no small part to his good looks.
He’d met and married Margaret Greer at the age of 28, and they seemed like the perfect couple. Mrs. Cox believed herself to be in love; which is why when she’d accidentally walked in Jay Hugh’s dressing room , and caught him cheating with his leading lady she’d been extremely distraught. Instead of doing what a normal woman in her position would, marching in and declaring she was getting a divorce, Mrs. Cox began to plot.
She quickly got on the phone with the starlets husband, who just happened to be the prop master, and told him what was going on. When he reached the dressing room and saw the truth he went ballistic, threatening Jay Hugh with all manner of horribly violent acts. The entire cast and crew had heard the commotion, and would later report how angry and vengeful he’d been.
The production they’d been working on was Romeo and Juliet, and the director was widely known. This all but guaranteed a full house. When the curtain went up that night the actors played their roles to perfection, especially Jay Hugh. Nigel, who was seated in the skybox with Lex , was busy scanning the crowd for any potential threats to Mr. Luthours security.
At last the final act came round; Jay Hugh opened the vile of poison (which was supposed to be grape Kool-aid), and guzzled it greedily. At first all seemed to be well, but then Nigel noticed his speech was becoming slurred. Suddenly his eyes bugged like he was being strangled, and his face turned deep crimson. The veins on his neck and face stuck out and convulsed violently like snakes writhing in the grass. When he finally fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for breath, he screamed for someone to call an ambulance; the director quickly sent his assistant for help and ran on stage.
The entire cast ran out from behind the curtain, and the on scene doctor attempted to revive him thinking it was an allergic reaction. When the epipen injection, he had given, didn’t work CPR was administered. Jay Hugh remained motionless.
At that time the paramedics had arrived, and the ushered all the actors off the stage to make room for the gurney. They hit him with a shot of adrenaline to the heart hoping it would be enough to bring him round, and it worked.
But soon afterward he began to convulse again. One of the on site technicians noticed a funny smell radiating from the vile clutched in his hand. The doctor took the vile and sniffed it cautiously a sickly sweet odor like burnt sugar assaulted his nostrils. It was then that they realized he’d been poisoned. He was strapped, flailing limbs and all to the gurney, and
wheeled out of the packed theater, all while the audience gasped and mumbled amongst themselves.
The ambulance arrived at the hospital not 5 minutes after it left the playhouse, and the attending E.R doctor ordered that Jay Hugh be started on detox as quickly as possible.
By then however it was too late, with one last shuddering gasp, Jay Hugh Cox was dead.
In the following weeks the city was a firestorm of media coverage the prop master, Jonathan Ruder, was the one and only suspect for the murder.
No one even suspected the grieving and rarely seen Mrs. Cox.
With the testimony of over 40 witnesses, all telling the exact same story about what had happened between Ruder and Cox, it was an easy 12-0 conviction.
After that Mrs. Cox disappeared into the ether, never to be heard from again.
She’d gone on to freelance mercenary work from there, and was one of the highest paid assassins in the western hemisphere. Now she worked exclusively for Luthour.
Nigel was knocked out of his reminiscence by the sound of the roof door being opened. Out stepped none other then Mrs. Cox. Wearing a confident smile she started to say something to Nigel, but was interrupted by Jason.
“It’s about bleedin time. Whad ya think we were doing up here havin a tea social.” He walked forward and got right in her face, but his intimidation factor was limited by the fact he was 4 inches shorter then her 5’11 frame.
Mrs. Cox rolled her eyes, aggravated by his presumptuous nature, and walked around him. She then proceeded to talk to Nigel ignoring Jason completely.
“Steele bought it. Have Trevainian call him at 7:00 sharp, and make sure that pig remembers his lines.”
“excellent, as always wonderful work Margaret.” Nigel smiled exultantly—yes it was good to work with professionals.
