Steele and Steele Again
Date: Wednesday, November 1, 2000
Suejue <hantaks@mtco.com>

This story was inspired by the title submitted by "Nancy2"

Steele and Steele Again

by Suejue

(permission to archive)

"I didn't say no, I said I'd consider it." Laura shook her coat off and placed it on the hook in her office. She was also trying to shake off the persistence of her partner.

"Laura, the clock is ticking," Remington reminded her.

"Can we just get some work done, please?" She placed her hands on his shoulders, rotated his body 180 degrees to steer him into his office. With a shove, she pushed him out of her office and turned her attention to the work on her desk. Not a moment later her phone buzzed an interoffice call. Betrayed by the light of his extension, she picked up the receiver, "What is it now?"

"Just tell me you'll go see it this afternoon, and it's the last time I'll bring it up."

"If you don't let me get some work done, we'll never be able to afford your new toy."

"Okay, okay....but did I forget to mention how wonderful you looked this morning?"

"Flattery will not get you closer to the marina, Mr. Steele."

She hung up the phone, shaking her head amused by the shameless behavior of Mr. Steele. Since they returned from Iowa, Remington pursued the idea of buying a sailboat relentlessly. He saw it as the answer to all of life's
injustices. It would afford him a certain place in life, something of his own, not to mention the romantic implications. He could be guaranteed a fair amount of uninterrupted moments with Laura, sailing off for days at a
time without phones, Mildred, clients, cases, and all the usual mayhem that sabotaged their relationship.

Once Laura hung up on him, he pressed 9 for an outside line followed by a number he had memorized. "Ah, Steele here, yes.....yes...I think we can make it this afternoon. Will you have it done by then? Very good, my man, see you then."

He hung up the phone with a certain satisfied flair. Even though he had been completely above board with Laura so far about his desire to buy the boat, he did ask the broker to make one slight change that would hopefully seal the deal with Laura.

At ten, a short man with a slight build pushed through the agency door without an appointment. Mildred announced "Mr. Edwards" then showed him into Mr. Steele's office.

Remington got up from his chair, buttoned his suit coat to greet him. Laura entered from her door. He motioned for Mr. Edwards to take a seat in the chair. "How can we help you, Mr. Edwards?"

"I'd like to show you something." He set his briefcase on the desk, fumbled with the combination then opened it and spun to show a near empty case to Laura and Remington. In the briefcase was a small, clear plastic protective sheet containing a stamp.

"May I?" Remington asked reaching into the briefcase to take a closer look.

Remington held it up to the light in the space between he and Laura. Mr. Edwards explained, "It's rare." He looked around, checking the room then whispered, "Very rare. It's valued somewhere between four and five million
dollars."

"I would certainly say that is rare, indeed." Remington agreed, gingerly placing the stamp back in the case.

"What is it that you would like us to do, Mr. Edwards?" Laura asked.

"I want you to steal it for me."

Remington and Laura looked at each other then at Mr. Edwards with the same confused look. The client went on to explain, "Are you familiar with the expression, 'rob Peter to pay Paul?'" Laura and Remington nodded. "I deal in high end coins, stamps and other collectibles. It is a very quick paced and risky enterprise. You don't last long in this business sitting on your hands. You have to go after what you want. Do you know, Mr. Steele, what it is like to find that one-of-a-kind item that makes your pulse race? That
sometimes you just have to jump at the opportunity when you have the chance?"

Remington glanced at Laura, "Yes, I believe I do, Mr. Edwards."

Laura was a bit unnerved by the entendre in Remington's voice, "What does that have to do with this stamp?"

"Well, Mr. Steele, Miss Holt.....I jumped....twice in fact."

"Care to explain that?"

"I came across a set of Roman coins that I've been after for quite some time. I knew of several buyers who would fall over themselves to have them. Instead of just brokering the deal to one buyer, like I usually do, I thought I'd buy them myself and make a tidy profit by playing the collectors off each other. So I used the stamp as collateral for a loan.
But, you don't just walk into a bank for this kind of loan. A very special <banker> by the name of Talbot financed the purchase. To make a long story short, the collector who lost the bidding war on the coins decided to go after a 17th Century aristocrat's jewelry collection. I didn't want to
alienate the other buyer , so I told him I could get that for him too. I used the stamp as collateral again for a second loan from another <lender>by the name of Salmon. I was ready to square things with Talbot and Salmon when a honey of a deal dropped in my lap. I used the proceeds of
both deals to buy some Galileo's documents that are utterly priceless. However, they are hung up in the authentication process. I don't know what possessed met to do this, I could lose everything. "

"Why don't you just sell the stamp and pay off part of both debts in installments until the Galileo authentication comes through?" Remington suggested.

"The stamp isn't mine. I was the designated broker for the Kingsley estate. It's going to auction at the end of the month. I want to turn the stamp over to Talbot, have you steal it back so I can give it to Salmon, then steal it from him so I can turn it over to the auction house and keep my
reputation in tact. They can't report the theft to the authorities and they won't suspect that I stole it. When it is auctioned, I received a 1 percent commission from the sale of the stamp. I am willing to give you my fee if
you can get me out of this mess. Then no more wheeling and dealing for me, I promise. The guilt is killing me, I'm going to give any profits from the Galileo sale to charity when this is over."

"Even though Talbot and Salmon may have criminal lending practices, we still can't justify stealing from them." Laura rationalized. "Besides, what makes you think the Remington Steele agency provides this sort of service?"

"Talbot is the center of a Justice Department investigation. It's only a matter of time before they sweep in and close down his operation. The stamp, along with all his assets will be seized. Salmon, as you may know, is behind many criminal activities including murder, I wouldn't lose any
sleep over stealing anything from him. I've made some inquiries and I understand that your agency sort of specializes in these kind of problems-"

"If you'll allow us a moment to confer...." Remington opened the door to Laura's office.

Once the door was shut, Laura started, "I don't like the idea of hiring us to commit grand larceny....TWICE in fact. And exactly when did my agency become specialized in this field?"

"Laura, he really is in a bind and he can't exactly go to anyone else."

"Are you sure you're not just thinking of that 1% commission?"

"One of us has to think of the agency's bottom line, Miss Holt."

Laura rolled her eyes at the absurd notion that he was actually concerned about the agency's financial health. "Not to mention a 40 to $50,000 downpayment on your sailboat."

"Laura, I'm wounded," he tried to sound offended. "You really think I have such a one-track mind, that I spend every waking hour obsessing over a boat?"

Laura gave him another 'oh pulllease' look.

He smiled when he realized she was right and admitted, "There is so many other things to consider, the marina slip lease, insurance, nautical wardrobe," then he looked intently at Laura adding, "selecting and training a first mate."

Laura softened to the idea, "Well let's see what we can find out about Talbot and Salmon first, or our only experience at sea may be a burial."

"Ahoy Remington!" Spencer Tinkerton called from the deck of the boat. "Come aboard, matey." Remington removed his suit coat and tossed it across the seat of the Auburn as Laura walked ahead. Spencer unlatched the gate on the rail and extended his hand to Laura. Once she was on board, he lifted her hand to his lips, "This must be Laura. I now see why Remington wants to sail off into the sunset with you." Spencer certainly was a smooth talker, which was a necessary attribute in a yacht broker. . Spencer bent Laura's
arm into his and started the grand tour. Once they arrived at the bow, he invited the two of them to lean over and check out the name, "Mr. Steele when I saw the name of this beauty, I took it as a sign that this is the boat for you." As Laura leaned over, the two men shared a conspiratorial
wink.

"The Magnifying Glass," Laura read aloud.

"Rather fitting for a private detective, wouldn't you say, Steele?" Spencer asked knowing full well that Remington arranged to have the name painted on earlier.

"Couldn't have thought of a better name myself, Spencer." Remington responded.

Spencer continued the tour of the boat ending in the intimate surroundings of the stateroom, "I'll leave you two to talk it over, I'll be in my car making a few calls."

Laura looked around but in a rather detached manner. Remington was trying to gauge her reaction. When she showed no overt signs of approval or disapproval, he finally asked, "Well... what do you think?"

"It's very nice," she tried to be pleasant, but he still could sense her hesitation.

"I know it's a lot of money, but there is always a fair amount of negotiating involved..."

Laura interrupted, "It's not the money, Mr. Steele."

"If you like it, and it's not an issue of money, then what's making that crinkle in your brow?"

Laura smoothed her forehead with her fingertips pacing trying to find the words to explain her misgivings. "There are two things, actually that are bothering me,"

Remington crossed the room and leaned against the wet bar. He folded his arms, "Care to enlighten me, Miss Holt?"

"I feel like....if I say yes to buying the boat, I'm also saying yes to something else as well." She nodded and cast her eyes in the direction of the bed emphasizing her point.

"Well, I'm not going to pretend that thought hadn't crossed my mind, but it's not my only motivation. And the second reason?"

"Just promise me you won't get angry first."

Remington moved closer to her and put his arms tightly around her, "How can I be angry with you? Two weeks ago, I never even thought we would be discussing the boat at all." He kissed the tip of her nose.

She prefaced what she was about to say with a disclaimer, "I hate myself for even thinking this but....A very, very small part of me fears that the boat will make it too easy for you to disappear without a trace. You could just sail off and..." Laura stopped when he let go of his embrace. "See, I
knew you'd be mad."

"Only YOU would think of that, Laura." he said with a mix of hurt and insult.

Remington walked out of the room and back up on deck with Laura close behind.

"Will you just wait a minute?"

From his car, Mr. Tinkerton could tell by the heated argument on deck, that this deal was far from in the bank.

By the time they returned to the office, Mildred had tracked down the residences of the two men they were to steal the stamp from. "How was the marina?" she asked innocently.

Remington took the notepad from Mildred's desk, tore off part of the top sheet, "I'll see what I can find out about Talbot." With that, he stormed out of the office.

Mildred sat with her mouth gaping. Her two kids rarely worked apart. Something was definitely going on between them. "Miss Holt? I fathom that it is not all smooth sailing?"

"You could say that, Mildred" Laura reached across the desk, "I guess that leaves me with Salmon." She tore the rest of the sheet off and left as well.

Talbot lived on an sprawling estate in the Santa Ana Mountains. It was a basic metal gated affair with video surveillance and electronic alarms. Steele contacted a former acquaintance to get more details. According to
Weasel, one room in particular, was more heavily guarded. It housed an extensive collection of art and treasures, a trophy room to his ill-gotten gains. It was likely the stamp would find a home in one of the glass enclosures in that room. Dressed in workman's coveralls, <borrowing> a phone company's repairman's truck he parked just outside the estate. He climbed into the 'bucket' at the end of the telescoping lift. Once above the hedges, he took several photos and made a quick sketch of the grounds.

Salmon was more of a the urban chic crowd. He lived in the penthouse suite of a security highrise in the city. He was more of the traditional, combination-safe-in-the-bedroom type. Laura watched from across the street, a doorman was on duty and occupants seemed to require a key to enter the
front door. Even if they could get past the doorman, picking the lock in his presence was suspect. She pulled around to the back. From there it seemed to be a steady flow of deliveries; caterers, flowers, Federal Express and the like.. Again, there were two security guards checking id's
before allowing entrance. Getting in through that access seemed attainable, but how would they be assured that Salmon wouldn't be in his apartment?

Laura returned to her apartment. She dialed Steele's number, but when there was no answer, she hoped he was just delayed, not allowing her suspicious mind to surmise he was avoiding her in the wake of the argument this afternoon. <He'll call when he gets in> she assured herself.

Steele thought he heard the phone ringing from the hall, however, by the time he got through the door, it stopped. Knowing Laura and her unrelenting diligence, he reasoned that if it was her, she'd call back. Waiting for the
other to call, they each spent a lonely and frustrated evening alone.

Remington came in the next morning armed with his plan of attack for Talbot. Laura too had an idea of how to get into Salmon's fortress. They called their client to tell him they would take the job and to give the green light to set up the first meeting. Laura watched the exchange and followed Talbot back to his manor. Once she recognized Remington stationed in his perch in the repair hoist, she drove on as Talbot waited for the gate to open. Equipped with binoculars, he watched Talbot place the stamp in one of the glass cases just as they speculated he would.

That evening, at Laura's loft, Remington poured himself a drink waiting for her to change. Normally a good ole heist had his blood racing. Tonight, still subdued by Laura's suspicions about the boat, he remained distant. He didn't even hear Laura joking as she came out of the bathroom, "Most women have the basic black dress as a necessary part of their wardrobe, I have the basic black burglary outfit."

Laura drove them in her car. Occasionally she glanced over in his direction, but he remained quiet and brooding. She pulled into a roadside picnic area unexpectedly. Skidding into the gravel, she woke him out of his daze, "Laura, what are you doing?"

"We need to talk."

"This is not the time, we have a job to do."

"This is precisely the time, I need you to be on your game tonight and we don't need this(she motioned between them) distracting us."

"I'm NOT distracted." He stated defiantly.

"Well I AM," she got out of the car and slammed the door with equal frustration. She walked to the back of the car and sat on the closed trunk. Her feet supported by the bumper, elbows resting on her thighs, hands clasp together, she shook her head from side to side.

Remington got out of the car, accusing, "Why? I'm the injured party here."

"You wanted me to be honest. I know I hurt you, and I don't know how to fix that."

He could see that she was beating herself up over this more than he was. In that moment, all was forgiven. He stepped between her knees, pried her hands apart and snaked his own around her waist. He leaned into her, "This is how you can fix that." His lips lowered to hers. They shared a slow,
indulgent and sensuous kiss. Interrupted by headlights shining on them, a police officer exited the passenger side of his cruiser

"Okay folks, park's closed after dark. You're going to have to move this along."

Getting back into the Rabbit, Remington commented licking his lips, "Now I'm distracted."

"We have a job to do first, then I'll distract you some more, Mr. Steele."

They successfully maneuvered around Talbot's security measures and extracted the stamp from the display case. They returned to the office to lock it in the safe there until they could return it to their client in the morning. The only light in Remington's office was the soft glow coming from the lamp in Laura's office. Remington took off his shoes and began to rearrange the pillows on his sofa. Perplexed, Laura asked, "You're staying here?"

"I think I'll sleep better knowing the stamp is safely a few feet from me."

"You mind if I stay with you?" Realizing that sounded like she didn't trust him again, she quickly made her motives clearer, "I mean, if you think there is room on that sofa for the two of us?"

"Only one way to find out," he wiggled his eyebrows at her and extended his hand guiding her to follow him. He laid back on the cushions, pulling Laura's body on top of his.

The next morning, during her usual opening the office routine, Mildred noticed Laura's lamp on. When she went in to turn it off, she saw the two of them through the connecting doorway. Still asleep on the sofa, Mr. Steele was on his back with Miss Holt's head on his chest, her body draped half across the left side of his body. Satisfied that things were obviously better between them, she quietly closed the door to give them some privacy and left the office for a bakery run. By the time she returned, Laura and
Steele were both awake. Still in his socks, Mr. Steele greeted Mildred, "Ah Miss Krebs, so glad you're here. Would you kindly summon Mr. Edwards for us?" Laura too, still in her stocking feet, came from the coffee room with two mugs in hand. She handed one to Remington. When he hesitated at
accepting her coffee, Laura insisted, "Don't worry, Mr. Steele, it seems the coffee fairy visited the office this morning." Laura looked directly at Mildred knowing she was the guilty party. Laura announced she was going home to change.

While Remington examined the contents of the bakery box, Mildred discreetly asked, "No more rough seas, boss?" Remington smiled and began to whistle a Popeye tune effectively answering her question.

Edwards arranged to turn over the stamp to Salmon that afternoon. During the transaction, Salmon took a phone call that tipped off there was going to be a party that evening. Posing as part of the catering crew, Laura and Remington gained entrance to the party. Once inside, they ducked into the bedroom, breached the combination safe and lifted the stamp for the second time.

At auction the stamp sold for 4.35 million dollars. As promised, the agency received $43,500 for its services. With check in hand, Laura led Mr. Steele out of the office, "C'mon, there's a boat out there with our name on it."

"Really?"

"I'm assuming that you DO know how to sail, don't you, Mr. Steele?"

The End

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