- Revised, Part 2/? - Steele By
Date: Tuesday, January 30, 2001
- Carla <email@example.com>
See Part 1 for copyright
disclaimers . . .
Previously: Steele moaned softly, trying to ignore the pounding
in his head.
"Mr. Steele!" The voice was harder this time. "A
condemned man has no business sleeping through the morning!"
* * * *
The abrupt words forced him to consciousness. Condemned . . .
morning . . . The words thundered through his mind. **C-Can't
be morning . . .** he thought in confusion. Steele tried to force
his mind to forget about the pain and concentrate instead on
remembering the events of the past 24 hours.
"Laura?" Steele whispered painfully as his eyes opened
slightly. His eyes closed again for a moment in protest of the
bright rays of sunlight that filtered in through the torn lace
curtain that he saw hanging loosely over a nearby window.
The voice laughed at his agony before continuing to taunt him.
"No, Mr. Steele, your precious Miss Holt is not here. How
unfortunate, don't you think?"
The curtains swayed slightly and Steele caught a glimpse of the
thick, black bars across the window.
He heard the faint rustle of fabric and Steele's dark eyes turned
to study his captor more closely. Although hidden from view from
head to toe, the tone of voice was definitely female.
"Welcome to your new home." The woman's wide, brown
eyes peered out from her veil and glanced for a moment at the
shiny gold wallpaper that dangled like tattered ribbons. "New
is, perhaps the wrong word -shall we say your final home?"
Steele had already noted the dismal conditions and swallowed
hard. "Where," he croaked, the dryness of his mouth
made him cough. "is this place? Who . . .are you?"
The veiled head shook in annoyance and a slender hand reached
up and unclasped the covering from her face.
"How could you have forgotten me so quickly, Mr. Steele,"
the woman's voice grew icy.
Steele looked at her in confusion. Events of the past were jumbled
in his mind,like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Yet something about the woman's face provided a clue. "You
called me . . . last night . . . said you needed to hire . .
. the agency."
"Ah, so you are remembering," The anger left her face
moment. "Yes, you were so gallant. Offering to be late for
your date with Miss Holt to come to my rescue."
"You drugged me . . ." The effort of speaking drained
the little strength he had left.
"My apologies, Mr. Steele, for the headache. Perhaps I gave
you a bit too much of father's serum but I had to make sure you
were easily managed." The color flooded into her cheeks.
"How ironic that you are slow to remember me yet not a day
goes by when I am not reminded of what you and Miss Holt have
done to my life."
Her face was familiar . . . older perhaps, but familiar. Steele
studied the woman intently as she continued speaking.
"You have disgraced the name Descoine and made it a thing
to be mocked . . ."
Descoine . . . Steele thought, a sense of alarm spreading through
"You," she continued, her voice rising sharply, "killed
Lillie Martin and destroyed my father's happiness and in doing
so, destroyed mine . . ."
As the woman vented her spleen at Steele, memories flooded into
Not long before he had assumed the identity of Remington Steele,
Laura Holt had been hired to find an embezzler at one of the
major banking firms in Los Angeles. She had exposed Major Descoine
and his paramour, Lilly Martin, an employee at the firm. Unable
to face the disgrace and what the future held, Lillie Martin
had thrown herself into an acid bath, forcing her lover, Descoine,
to witness the woman's painful and violent death. The incident
had pushed Descoine over the fine line which separates sanity
With her death, the matter had been closed . . . or so everyone
thought. Less than a year had passed before the Major made his
first unsuccessful attempt to kill Steele and Holt at the acid
baths where Lillie Martin died, "to honor" the annniversary
of his lover's death.
Soon after, Descoine tried again, this time with poison and an
accomplice - his daughter. The second attempt had resulted in
Descoine's capture and imprisonment.
**We were bloody fools . . .** Steele thought bitterly. When
Descoine had been captured, he and Holt had left Detective Jarvis
of the LAPD in charge of finding the daughter, who had vanished
without leaving a trace. Until now . . .
The woman continued as the rage she felt inside overtook her.
"And so, Mr. Steele, the time has come for you and Miss
Holt to pay for your misdeeds. . . and pay you will . . . dearly
. . ."
- End Part 2
- To Part