Challenge, Horses
A field of sleek race horses breaks from the gate, with the ensuing excitement and noise. As the group rounds the first turn, the colt in the lead falters and falls back, limping noticeably, and tossing his beautiful head. The jockey struggles to control him, gradually bringing him to a stop near the fence, where he leaps from his charge’s back. Several men run to help restrain the spirited horse, followed at a slower pace by a trainer, who runs a seasoned hand down the bay's leg. The colt is led carefully off the track. His tack removed, he is turned out into a roomy box stall, where he stands breathing heavily, nostrils flaring.
“This was the finest colt I’d seen in years. How could this happen?” An angry man in business attire ill suited to the stall outside of which he stands, studies the horse, shaking his head in disappointment.
“It may be just a deep sprain, in which case he’ll be good as new with a little rest and TLC.” the trainer suggests.
“I don’t pay for horses to ‘rest,’ just race. Find some investors foolish enough to take him on, or collect on the insurance and put him down.”
With a look of concern on his face, the trainer watches the man depart.
*****
A woman's hands pull the paper reading "Steele Pure Gold" from a newspaper box.
A pair of dark skinned hands, belonging to a commuter, holds the Daily Chronicle, with the headline "Steele Pure Gold."
Another set of hands, this pair a woman’s, extend over a breakfast table, holding the same headline.
The paper declaring "Steele Pure Gold" is seen just in front of the lame horse's stall. A larger view reveals the work worn hands of the lame horse’s trainer holding the paper, and smiling at the image of the man named Steele.
Elegant, well manicured hands, extending beyond crisp French cuffs and a dark vested suit hold the same headline. The handsome dark haired man smiles at the photo of himself, in which he is holding the arm of Mr. Gordon Hunter, who is flanked on the other side by an "unidentified woman." It is this woman the man's gaze focuses on. His right eyebrow rises slightly and his smile deepens as his mind's eye replays the previous two evenings: the soft deep brown of the woman's eyes as she had sat across from him, the swing of her long, shinning hair catching the light in a dozen shades of brown, the play of dimples across her cheeks as she spoke so earnestly to him about her work... He doubted she had any idea how lovely she was, so absorbed was she in her excitement over the world around her. Audrey Hepburn - no, Katharine....Truly this woman is a gem of much greater value than those he was supposed to have saved....
*****
Laura and Bernice ride up in the elevator together.
"Unidentified woman... That's you.” Bernice remarks dryly.
”Poor Mr. Hunter.” Laura murmurs sympathetically, "He wasn't really a thief, just a man who saw his dream going down in a sea of red ink. He wanted to use those gems to finance the production of his automobile."
The two women walk through the doors of Remington Steele Investigations together. A man has been waiting in the reception area for someone's arrival.
"Lester Giddons - I have a nine o’clock with Remington Steele?" he says inquisitively.
"Oh, I’m sorry. Mr. Steele has been called out of town - San Francisco I believe." Laura apologizes, adding brightly "But we can use his office.” Laura motions for Mr. Giddons to precede her into Mr. Steele's office.
Before following him into Mr. Steele's office Laura looks sideways at Bernice,
"If anyone calls..."
"He won't." Bernice states matter of factly.
"Mr. Steele!" Mr. Giddons exclaims. "I thought you were in San Francisco!”
Laura's face lights up. Glancing quickly at Bernice she follows Mr. Giddons through the tall red door. Inside the office the desk chair turns to reveal the well manicured man in the three piece suit sitting at Mr. Steele's desk.
"Yes, well suddenly it seemed there was nothing there for me. Now, what can we do for you Mr. Giddons?" the ersatz Mr. Steele asks as he rises to close the office door behind the startled and bemused Miss Holt.
Laura's pulse races with the sudden rush of excitement one might feel at the apex of a roller coaster, or the beginning of a ski run down a black diamond slope. This was the feeling that led her to become a private investigator - turning a corner to discover the unexpected and slightly dangerous. ‘What is HE doing here?!’ she thinks! Swiftly she gathers herself, however, to focus on Mr. Giddons, his praise for Mr. Steele's work over the past two days, and the thoughts on how Mr. Steele could assist him with an urgent security failing in his own business. This blue eyed stranger indeed makes a delightful Remington Steele. Her gamble might yet pay off....
The door to Mr. Steele's office opens and closes frequently as the morning continues. Bernice fields continual calls from those in need of the great Remington Steele's services, and those who, having never met the enigmatic Mr. Steele, now wish to thank him in person for services received. The reception area flutters with these latter in particular, each holding their copy of The Daily Chronicle with the photo and story of the royal lavulite. Seeing an opportunity, Laura hollers for Murphy, who, still nursing a headache from the previous day’s events, is working on more pedestrian matters in his office to the left of Laura's.
"Grab the agency camera, Murphy! - let's get some publicity photos!"
Murphy sticks his head into Laura's office, peering through to see ‘Mr. Steele’ chatting with a Hindu man in the office beyond.
"What's going on....whoa - you've got to be kidding me Laura! You don’t honestly want photos of HIM!"
"Don't knock a gift horse in the mouth, Murphy. Com'on, just go with it. We'll talk later-" Laura begs around the beautiful smile that Murphy can never resist.
"I can think of someone I'd like to knock in the mouth." Murphy scowls. With a dark look at HIM, he grabs the camera from a file drawer. Bernice blinks as flash after flash illuminates the doorway of Steele's previously quiet office.
At noon Laura turns her back on the office doors as she locks them behind the last client she ushers out, encouraging those who have not yet seen Mr. Steele to call and schedule appointments. A grin slides across her face, and her eyes sparkle as she looks conspiratorially at Bernice.
"It would seem your Mr. Steele has generated some interest in the agency Laura." Bernice remarks wearily. "I haven't been able to get the phone away from my ear all morning. How do things look from where you are?"
"Not bad, Bernice," Laura smiles broadly; "Not bad at all! Come on - let's talk turkey with this turkey while we have a moment to breathe."
"All right, 'Mr. Steele'," Laura begins as she strides purposefully into Steele’s office and up to the impostor himself. "You have shown an amazing talent for undercover work, glad handing, smiling for the camera, and bluffing your way through situations you know little or nothing about. Can we back up just a moment now? Who are you, and why are you here?"
Murphy and Bernice join Laura in staring the serenely composed interloper down.
"Really, Miss Holt, I thought I'd made that quite clear already. I'm a man who likes an impossible challenge. With the gems currently out of circulation I find myself open to new endeavors. ‘Mr. Steele’ seems to offer some interesting possibilities - for all of us." Steele smiles charmingly at Laura and Bernice, his smile dimming a bit as he meets Murphy's scowl.
"Laura," Murphy spits out darkly. "This is insane. This guy's a con man we know nothing about, representing us in the public eye. The people who were here today want copies of their picture with the ‘Great Remington Steele’ - what are we going to say when he leaves, or when he gets caught heisting some other priceless gems in San Francisco or Fresno, or Catalina: This is professional suicide."
"Murphy - hang on just a moment." pleads Laura. Turning to the handsome stranger, "Murphy has a point 'Mr. Steele.' Can you give us your real name, some credentials, some history of your past employment? What can you bring to this agency if we decide to work out some kind of....arrangement?
"My talents are more than apparent to all of you -" 'Steele' declares cheerfully. "a handsome face, a winning personality, a certain worldly knowledge of people and business. As to my name, I have used several as you have already ascertained, and am quite taken with the one you fabricated for your little ruse. REMINGTON STEELE - it has a nice flair, don't you agree?"
"LAURA..." Murphy's eyes shoot daggers at his 'partner.'
"O.K., O.K., Murph - we still have some things to work out." Laura grimaces, turning once more to the dark haired stranger. "You aren't giving us much to go on ‘Mr. Steele’. We don't know anything about you. How do we know we can trust you not to embarrass this agency, or do us even greater harm?"
"You don't." replied Steele, locking Laura's brown eyes with his blue. "Aren’t things more interesting this way?" Steele's mouth turned up on one side in a most appealing half smile. "It suits to me to stay in the City of Angels for the time being. I will maintain your little ruse in return for those few little niceties appropriate to Mr. Steele's lifestyle. I believe we can have a most satisfactory relationship."
Steele recognizes in Laura the same thirst for adventure and risk that set his pulse racing much as hers has all morning. Appraising her, Steele thinks, 'This woman is afraid of very little, and despite her child-like face, possesses the authority and intelligence that are clearly the driving force behind this agency. Murphy follows her lead, rather than the other way around.' Steele finds Laura Holt most intriguing. She is nothing like the women he is usually attracted to - he is almost afraid to consider what he hopes to accomplish here.
Laura, deep in thought, is pacing, as Steele admires the view she presents.
"All right Mr. ‘Steele’, I’ll admit you have brought attention to the agency simply by appearing on behalf of us last night. Say we consider giving you the use of this office, the use of the limo, and the wardrobe in exchange for occasional appearances as our figurehead." Laura continues to muse. "As far as parameters go, if you are our public face there are activities that we could not have our agency head known for - do you appreciate that?"
"Of course, Miss Holt, of course. Nothing I do must reflect negative publicity back to you. I can be the soul of discretion. Now, just exactly how much time do you anticipate my spending working closely with you?" Steele's eyebrows wiggle suggestively at this.
"Murphy," Laura continues, ignoring Steele's question, "If we do this, you and I will continue to function exactly as we always have. We'll do the work, while Mr. Steele can attend a few lunches, make a few remarks here and there, get his picture taken - and we'll actually have more time for our cases. 'Mr. Steele' will function as he always has, in a purely advisory capacity. In other words, Murphy, he’ll have nothing to do with actual casework."
Bernice alone watches Murphy struggle to accept Laura's proposition. When he fails to respond Laura slows her pacing and turns to seek her partner's eyes. Steele, as well, turns to Murphy briefly, well aware that despite seeking Murphy’s input, the final decision is Laura's and Laura's alone. Murphy shrugs. "This is your call, Laura. I'll go along with this insanity if you think it will help the agency." Turning to the prospective titular head of the agency he glowers darkly. "Believe me though, 'Pal, you don't want to mess with Laura, or with ME."
Steele feels a chill run up his spine at the venom in Murphy's voice. Laura too, at Murphy's cautionary threat, senses the risk she is accepting for all of them by inviting this stranger into their lives, in even a limited role.
"Well, Mr. Nobody? Remington Steele Investigations could issue a press release announcing that the recently seen ‘Mr. Steele’ has once again retired to a less public role. We could carry on as we did before, and you could return to - whatever it is you do." Laura's chin rises, her demeanor is serious as she challenges the dark man standing before them.
Soberly the nameless man replies. “Remington Steele suits me quite well Miss Holt. I relish the challenge of becoming the man you envision Remington Steele to be and offer you my word that I will do my utmost not to embarrass or undermine your agency. I look forward to earning the respect of my excellent staff." A slow smile creeps across Steele's face.
Laura swallows nervously. Still no hard facts about this mystery man, and yet... his eyes are steady as he meets her gaze. There is without doubt a connection between the two of them - a connection that does not include Murphy - a fact that man is painfully aware of. Blue eyes meet brown as Steele and Laura test the future of their association.
Bernice breaks the tension suggesting "Let's grab a sandwich, folks, before our one o'clock arrives." She steers Murphy out the door by his elbow, leaving Laura and Steele to follow behind.
As the group walks through the doors of the agency toward the elevator the trainer from the racetrack, holding the newspaper with Steele’s photo, watches from the corner of the hall. He smiles, recognizing the man trailing in the group of four. ‘What game is Harry up to now?’ he wonders.
End Part 1