Steele for the Prosecution - Part 3
STEELE FOR THE PROSECUTION
PART 3
In the end, the D.A.’s office decided that Remington Steele would speak. After all, even the newspapers fingered him for Gordon Hunter’s arrest. He was a sensation, as Laura explained to Murphy. The prosecution would want the biggest bullets in its prosecutorial gun, and having the reclusive agency head, especially a media darling, was a big one.
The trial was already a media circus. Between Hunter’s touching rags-to-riches-to-rags story, the brutal murder of the South African agent, and the now-notorious Royal Lavulite gemstones, the press coverage had out-competing the dueling coverage of John DeLorean’s cocaine trial. Once the media caught wind that the sensational Remington Steele would be on the stand, the cameras lined the courthouse steps as well as its corridors. Private eye Remington Steele appears at L.A. courthouse, accompanied by unidentified aide. “The Remington Steele Agency is only too delighted to serve in the cause of justice,” he pronounced to a frankly fawning crowd outside the building’s entrance. Does he write this material in advance? Certainly this art deco building suits him to a ‘T’.
“I didn’t think he’d show up this morning,” Murphy said, sotto voce, in her ear as they waited, some distance away, for the press to release him.
“You owe me lunch,” said Laura. “He was actually waiting outside his building when I arrived in the limo with Fred. Like a kid keen for his first day of kindergarten.”
“This ain’t kindergarten. If he blows this, our rep is finished.”
“He’s certainly eating this up. I don’t know who loves each other more, him or the press.”
“He loves the attention. It’ll be different once he’s on the stand.”
“Do you suppose he’s ever been in court before? Asked to testify?” she wondered aloud.
“You mean, has he ever been tried and convicted? Couldn’t find a thing, but who knows what name it would have been under. Certainly not one of those passports.”
“I think he’s clean,” Laura replied softly. “This trial is going to be all over the media. Someone would recognize him and he’s got to be aware of that. Say what you will, our Mr. Steele’s not a fool.”
“No. Just a thief and a liar.”
She ignored him and said, a little louder, “Mr. Steele? We need to find our seats.”
***
An aide from the D.A.’s office - a woman not much older than Laura - unidentified aide? Fellow traveler? greeted them just inside the metal detector and escorted them to the courtroom where Hunter’s case was being tried. Both she and Murphy had testified numerous times in the county’s jurisdiction, first with Havenhurst and later with the agency, and they were known to the employees and staff. Mr. Steele, however, was a new item and people watched with frank curiosity as he moved effortlessly through the crowded corridors, nodding and listening in a perfect impersonation of the ersatz Steele. And why not? He is easy to look at. They found their reserved seats several rows behind the prosecution. Murphy glanced at her fixed profile and fell silent, sensing her mood. Why am I so nervous? I’ve been here a dozen times. But my stomach’s doing the flip-flops. What is Hunter’s defense going to pull? Michael Carmelo is a brilliant attorney. I didn’t know Hunter had the money left to pay for him, given all his debts. Funny enough, people actually wanted that car in the end. I’ve seen a few JetStar 6000’s on the streets. Maybe the company’s going to make a go of it after all? Or maybe it’s just the banks trying to protect what’s left of their investments.
Gordon Hunter now appeared, escorted by an officer to join his legal team. Gone was the elegant, confident man Laura remembered from their first meeting. That man had dreamt of an automobile and had made it come true. The tan was gone, of course, but so was that look of confidence that said anything was possible. He was impeccably dressed - his lawyers had seen to that - but Laura thought he had lost some weight. And certainly he had lost his passion.
Unexpectedly, as Hunter took his seat, he glanced over and caught her eye. The two of you have something in common. Remembering, Laura gave Hunter a smile and a small, friendly nod. His eyes widened and, after a long moment, he nodded back, uncertain of her motive but willing to accept the small gift of humanity. A little bit of the verve came back and he sat a little straighter.
Seated beside her, Steele had also caught the exchange, and his own expression grew thoughtful.
The trial had begun two days earlier with predictable opening remarks from both sides. Prosecution proposed that Hunter had intended to steal the stones all along, while defense insisted on his innocence. The insurance officials had already testified as to their contacts with Hunter in arranging the display and covering half their value. A lawyer had spoken about Hunter’s contacting his firm, arranging to display the stones at the JetStar’s unveiling. This morning’s testimony continued the temporal sequence and opened with Laura, as she had handled the agency’s initial contacts with Hunter. Led by Hernandez, she recounted their first meetings with Hunter, how she and Murphy had devised the scheme for transporting the gemstones, and Hunter’s approval of the misdirection once the plans were revealed to him. She outlined how she supervised the armored truck that morning after the reception, and how she was preparing to leave for the airport when Murphy stumbled over to announce that he’d been attacked and the stones stolen.
“And then what happened?”
“I knew that the two suspects who had attempted the theft in South Africa had been jailed,” she said, carefully qualifying her statements for legal accuracy; their trial was still in the works. “Logically, they couldn’t have attacked Mr. Michaels. And then I remembered my conversation with Mr. Hunter the previous evening.”
“What conversation was that?”
She looked at Hunter, and her expression softened. “It was after the big announcement party. He was depressed and sought out a sympathetic ear. He told me that he’d spent years of work and a great deal of money to develop the JetStar 6000. He had 800 people employed and was deeply in debt. But no one had offered to buy the car. He would be financially ruined. And I realized that this gave him a powerful motive to steal the Royal Lavulite.”
“And what did you do in response to that conclusion?”
“I recalled seeing Mr. Hunter leave the hotel just a few minutes earlier. He had carried a small suitcase. He had hailed a taxi and seemed in a great rush. So Mr. Michaels and I proceeded to the airport, where we quickly located Mr. Hunter and found the gemstones on his person.”
“Miss Holt, what was the value of these gemstones.”
“I’m told they were priceless, rarer than diamonds.” Steele’s voice echoed in her memory. “They were valued at two-point-six million and insured for one-point-three in U.S. dollars. Mr. Hunter was liable for the remainder.”
“That’s a great deal of money. Such a high value and high publicity case was a first for the Remington Steele agency. Is that correct?” That was an odd question, coming from the prosecution. We hadn’t discussed this line of questioning before. What does he want from me? The little frown appeared.
“The gemstones have a colorful history. And there was a great deal of publicity attached to the car,” she said, opting to answer his question obliquely.
“Was this the first time your agency had protected something of this high value?”
“That would be correct.” Her puzzlement grew. Where is Hernandez going with this?
“Did it strike you as odd that Mr. Hunter sought out Remington Steele Investigations for this high profile, high risk security job?”
“Noo,” but she couldn’t keep the slight hesitation from her voice. She repeated, with more confidence, “It wasn’t at all ‘odd’. We’ve had several cases that received significant media publicity. And very satisfied clients.”
“But not a case wherein the item was worth millions. Has it occurred to you, Miss Holt, that Mr. Hunter may have hired the agency precisely because of your relative inexperience? That he intended to take advantage of that inexperience because he planned to steal the gemstones all along?”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. So that’s where he was headed with this! Bastard!
Her voice hardened, and her high color gave her a beautiful defiance that, had she been aware of it, would have embarrassed her. She was certainly unaware of the effect it had on at least one other person in the courtroom. “The Remington Steele agency is not naïve, Mr. Hernandez. We investigated Mr. Hunter thoroughly before accepting him as a client. The insurance company documented the valuation and confirmed the insurance. We took every precaution. But with respect to Mr. Hunter’s intent? I cannot speak to that, as it would be speculation.” She held his gaze until he broke contact and turned toward the defense. Damn you. Why couldn’t you clue us in first?
“No more questions. Your witness, Mr. Camello.”
End of Part 3
PART 3
In the end, the D.A.’s office decided that Remington Steele would speak. After all, even the newspapers fingered him for Gordon Hunter’s arrest. He was a sensation, as Laura explained to Murphy. The prosecution would want the biggest bullets in its prosecutorial gun, and having the reclusive agency head, especially a media darling, was a big one.
The trial was already a media circus. Between Hunter’s touching rags-to-riches-to-rags story, the brutal murder of the South African agent, and the now-notorious Royal Lavulite gemstones, the press coverage had out-competing the dueling coverage of John DeLorean’s cocaine trial. Once the media caught wind that the sensational Remington Steele would be on the stand, the cameras lined the courthouse steps as well as its corridors. Private eye Remington Steele appears at L.A. courthouse, accompanied by unidentified aide. “The Remington Steele Agency is only too delighted to serve in the cause of justice,” he pronounced to a frankly fawning crowd outside the building’s entrance. Does he write this material in advance? Certainly this art deco building suits him to a ‘T’.
“I didn’t think he’d show up this morning,” Murphy said, sotto voce, in her ear as they waited, some distance away, for the press to release him.
“You owe me lunch,” said Laura. “He was actually waiting outside his building when I arrived in the limo with Fred. Like a kid keen for his first day of kindergarten.”
“This ain’t kindergarten. If he blows this, our rep is finished.”
“He’s certainly eating this up. I don’t know who loves each other more, him or the press.”
“He loves the attention. It’ll be different once he’s on the stand.”
“Do you suppose he’s ever been in court before? Asked to testify?” she wondered aloud.
“You mean, has he ever been tried and convicted? Couldn’t find a thing, but who knows what name it would have been under. Certainly not one of those passports.”
“I think he’s clean,” Laura replied softly. “This trial is going to be all over the media. Someone would recognize him and he’s got to be aware of that. Say what you will, our Mr. Steele’s not a fool.”
“No. Just a thief and a liar.”
She ignored him and said, a little louder, “Mr. Steele? We need to find our seats.”
***
An aide from the D.A.’s office - a woman not much older than Laura - unidentified aide? Fellow traveler? greeted them just inside the metal detector and escorted them to the courtroom where Hunter’s case was being tried. Both she and Murphy had testified numerous times in the county’s jurisdiction, first with Havenhurst and later with the agency, and they were known to the employees and staff. Mr. Steele, however, was a new item and people watched with frank curiosity as he moved effortlessly through the crowded corridors, nodding and listening in a perfect impersonation of the ersatz Steele. And why not? He is easy to look at. They found their reserved seats several rows behind the prosecution. Murphy glanced at her fixed profile and fell silent, sensing her mood. Why am I so nervous? I’ve been here a dozen times. But my stomach’s doing the flip-flops. What is Hunter’s defense going to pull? Michael Carmelo is a brilliant attorney. I didn’t know Hunter had the money left to pay for him, given all his debts. Funny enough, people actually wanted that car in the end. I’ve seen a few JetStar 6000’s on the streets. Maybe the company’s going to make a go of it after all? Or maybe it’s just the banks trying to protect what’s left of their investments.
Gordon Hunter now appeared, escorted by an officer to join his legal team. Gone was the elegant, confident man Laura remembered from their first meeting. That man had dreamt of an automobile and had made it come true. The tan was gone, of course, but so was that look of confidence that said anything was possible. He was impeccably dressed - his lawyers had seen to that - but Laura thought he had lost some weight. And certainly he had lost his passion.
Unexpectedly, as Hunter took his seat, he glanced over and caught her eye. The two of you have something in common. Remembering, Laura gave Hunter a smile and a small, friendly nod. His eyes widened and, after a long moment, he nodded back, uncertain of her motive but willing to accept the small gift of humanity. A little bit of the verve came back and he sat a little straighter.
Seated beside her, Steele had also caught the exchange, and his own expression grew thoughtful.
The trial had begun two days earlier with predictable opening remarks from both sides. Prosecution proposed that Hunter had intended to steal the stones all along, while defense insisted on his innocence. The insurance officials had already testified as to their contacts with Hunter in arranging the display and covering half their value. A lawyer had spoken about Hunter’s contacting his firm, arranging to display the stones at the JetStar’s unveiling. This morning’s testimony continued the temporal sequence and opened with Laura, as she had handled the agency’s initial contacts with Hunter. Led by Hernandez, she recounted their first meetings with Hunter, how she and Murphy had devised the scheme for transporting the gemstones, and Hunter’s approval of the misdirection once the plans were revealed to him. She outlined how she supervised the armored truck that morning after the reception, and how she was preparing to leave for the airport when Murphy stumbled over to announce that he’d been attacked and the stones stolen.
“And then what happened?”
“I knew that the two suspects who had attempted the theft in South Africa had been jailed,” she said, carefully qualifying her statements for legal accuracy; their trial was still in the works. “Logically, they couldn’t have attacked Mr. Michaels. And then I remembered my conversation with Mr. Hunter the previous evening.”
“What conversation was that?”
She looked at Hunter, and her expression softened. “It was after the big announcement party. He was depressed and sought out a sympathetic ear. He told me that he’d spent years of work and a great deal of money to develop the JetStar 6000. He had 800 people employed and was deeply in debt. But no one had offered to buy the car. He would be financially ruined. And I realized that this gave him a powerful motive to steal the Royal Lavulite.”
“And what did you do in response to that conclusion?”
“I recalled seeing Mr. Hunter leave the hotel just a few minutes earlier. He had carried a small suitcase. He had hailed a taxi and seemed in a great rush. So Mr. Michaels and I proceeded to the airport, where we quickly located Mr. Hunter and found the gemstones on his person.”
“Miss Holt, what was the value of these gemstones.”
“I’m told they were priceless, rarer than diamonds.” Steele’s voice echoed in her memory. “They were valued at two-point-six million and insured for one-point-three in U.S. dollars. Mr. Hunter was liable for the remainder.”
“That’s a great deal of money. Such a high value and high publicity case was a first for the Remington Steele agency. Is that correct?” That was an odd question, coming from the prosecution. We hadn’t discussed this line of questioning before. What does he want from me? The little frown appeared.
“The gemstones have a colorful history. And there was a great deal of publicity attached to the car,” she said, opting to answer his question obliquely.
“Was this the first time your agency had protected something of this high value?”
“That would be correct.” Her puzzlement grew. Where is Hernandez going with this?
“Did it strike you as odd that Mr. Hunter sought out Remington Steele Investigations for this high profile, high risk security job?”
“Noo,” but she couldn’t keep the slight hesitation from her voice. She repeated, with more confidence, “It wasn’t at all ‘odd’. We’ve had several cases that received significant media publicity. And very satisfied clients.”
“But not a case wherein the item was worth millions. Has it occurred to you, Miss Holt, that Mr. Hunter may have hired the agency precisely because of your relative inexperience? That he intended to take advantage of that inexperience because he planned to steal the gemstones all along?”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. So that’s where he was headed with this! Bastard!
Her voice hardened, and her high color gave her a beautiful defiance that, had she been aware of it, would have embarrassed her. She was certainly unaware of the effect it had on at least one other person in the courtroom. “The Remington Steele agency is not naïve, Mr. Hernandez. We investigated Mr. Hunter thoroughly before accepting him as a client. The insurance company documented the valuation and confirmed the insurance. We took every precaution. But with respect to Mr. Hunter’s intent? I cannot speak to that, as it would be speculation.” She held his gaze until he broke contact and turned toward the defense. Damn you. Why couldn’t you clue us in first?
“No more questions. Your witness, Mr. Camello.”
End of Part 3