Disclaimer:
Remington Steele and its characters are owned by MTM. No copyright infringement intended. For entertainment purposes only.
Set after Season 4. Bonds of Steele and Season 5 are not in my universe.
Chapter1:
The week had been frantic. After closing the Dumont's case, they were enjoying a lovely weekend at the golf fields. The Los Angeles Country Club was magnificent. A fantastic par 72 course. The clubhouse had been built in 1911, and it was one of the first Golf Clubs in Los Angeles. The restaurant was open to a terrace full of tables, and down the stairs was a beautiful fountain, a refreshing touch to the California dry landscape… The main building was surrounded by an impressive 36 holes course. By the right side of the club were the tennis courts, always full of players and trainers working to maintain the high-level competition between the members of the institution. A hard task.
Mr. Steele had been watching the course from his office windows, looking forward to the chance to play there since his first day as Remington Steele. They'd played their first round between them there when the Marcall's case had been closed. Mr. Marcall had adopted them as his permanent guests.
But the club held other additional pleasures for Mr. Steele, aside from the sports practice itself. Every relevant character in the movie industry was a member of the institution. The chance to meet a star from the big screen was high.
They started to play early to enjoy the fresh morning air. They were the first line, without anybody ahead of them to make the walk slow. Only one of them supported this idea, in fact. The other one would have loved to start a little later. But if Laura were playing, the game would be faced first time in the morning and energetically. When they arrived at the 16th green, Mr. Steele was already hungry. But not only for food. They were going to have lunch at the clubhouse, and he couldn't wait to get there in time. Sitting with Laura on the terrace would give him the chance to watch for any random star having lunch there.
"Congratulations, Laura! Your approach was splendid! Let's check your abilities with the putter." Then, he took the flag out of the hole leaving enough room for Laura's ball to roll in. She did it with an accurate shot. There were only 2 holes left till the end of the game. Laura was ahead of him by 2 shots. Certainly, he would have to improve at the end of the match to at least equal her game. They'd made a bet the day before: if she won, he would have to play a tennis match after lunch. But if the winner was Mr. Steele, they were going to enjoy a romantic dinner at his place in front of the fireplace, including chilled champagne to relax them after a strenuous day.
The 17th hole was an advance for him. Laura was only one shot ahead at the start of the 18th hole. He had to think of something to kill her advantage. After two shots, they were already on the 18th green. If she sunk the ball, she was the winner, and all thoughts about a romantic dinner would have to wait for a different opportunity. Laura was farther from the hole than he was, so she was to make her shot first. She grabbed the putter and gave a threatening gaze to her opponent. Then she put her left hand in the back pocket of her pants while making an analysis about her next t move. She noticed then that something was missing.
"Oh, I lost my glove!" she asked him.
"Ahh, Miss Holt. Is this an excuse to delay your last shot? That's not good… Be a good player and do your shot, you are not going to put my mind out of the game at this instance, Mr. Steele answered smiling triumphantly.
"Ok, I'll do it, Mr. Steele. There's no need to be like that. It wasn't a trick to distract you. I was only asking…" She then played her shot, but at that point, she was a little unfocused and missed the hole. He made his shot then, and voilá, they were tied for the game, and for a promising evening.
"Well, Miss Holt, it looks like we'll have to play tennis after lunch, and we have a scheduled dinner to attend as well. It's going to be a long day," "Let's head to the restaurant to have our strength recovered for the next challenge," he said while arranging his gear in his golf bag, hiding the stolen glove in a secure place.
They'd chosen their seats offering a great view of the rest of the tables all over the terrace. The players were finishing their rounds, and Mr. Steele felt like in heaven, looking all around for known faces, and explaining to Miss Holt who was who in the place.
Once the place was already full of diners, and their orders were on the table, they started to enjoy their meals. After a few minutes, something caught Mr. Steele's attention. There was a man at the table behind them, talking with his friend about something related to the Academy Awards. Just when he was tuning his ears to catch more of the conversation, Laura asked him," If you eat everything you've ordered, you will not be able to move even one inch on the tennis court."
"Yes, I will," he answered shortly.
"Because if not, I would love to taste your salad. It looks delicious."
"Take the salad, Laura," He told her pushing the dish towards her, trying to be free to listen to the gentleman's conversation behind him.
"I was not implying that I wanted all the salad, you know? I wanted only a bite or two." She returned it to him. Realizing he wasn't paying attention to her words, she asked him, "What's happening to you?"
"Shhh, Laura. I'm trying to listen…," he answered...
"Are you spying on the neighbors? Mr. Steele, are you insane? We are guests here! Mr. Marcall invited us! You can't spy on other diners conversations…""
But with her talking, he couldn't catch the end of the conversation. After taking a sip of wine, he put his napkin on the table, stood up and walked to the next table, "Excuse me Sir, but I couldn't help listening to what you were saying. Were you talking about the Academy Awards, The Academy Awards?" He asked.
"Excuse me, Do I know you?" asked the man.
"Ahh, Excuse my manners… I'm Remington Steele."
"The Remington Steele?" asked the man smiling with excitement.
"The man in the flesh," he answered. "I see my reputation precedes me," he stated offering a satisfied grin to all the members of the table. Laura couldn't believe it. What was he doing?
"Come on, Mr. Steele. Have a seat with us! We are in the middle of a conversation about a subject that might catch your interest," said the man.
"Thank you, thank you, gentlemen. Please let me introduce you my associate, Laura Holt," he said gesturing towards a bewildered Miss Holt, to join the members of the table.
"Nice to meet you," said Laura shaking hands with the man.
"My pleasure Miss Holt, my name is Michael Fairbanks. I am the Chairman at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, most known as The Academy as your boss correctly stated. And these are my golf friends, Sean Collins, Peter O'Hara, Barry Porter, Dale Baxter, and Jerry Mitchell. At that very moment, Laura realized what had caught Mr. Steele's attention.
Once the introductions were over, they resumed their conversation about the matter that had intrigued the detective.
"You know, Steele, the Ceremony will be on Monday, next week. But we are sort of worried because something unusual might be happening. And if we confirm our suspicions and find that's true, we need to find a solution as soon as possible, because we can't reschedule the Oscar Ceremony," said Fairbanks.
At that point, Mr. Steele's face reflected a mix of heaven and hell. He couldn't believe he was talking to a Douglas Fairbanks descendant, but at the same time, he realized his lousy luck because work would interfere with such a pleasurable moment. He couldn't believe that the one time he was getting close to the core of show business; a case would shadow his dream. At that very moment, he realized too, that Laura, who besides him, had switched into full work mode in less than a second, ready to turn the pleasant conversation into a business one.
"My infallible instincts tell me you've found the right person to help you, Mr. Fairbanks," he stated. Laura sent a look at him, full of seriousness and disbelief. How could he be that unprofessional? And with The Academy chairman in the flesh, nothing less. But she didn't have the time to introduce a word, while all the men at the table were speaking to Mr. Steele, telling him all about the surreal situation they were suspecting were going to happen.
"You know, Mr. Steele, there is a betting game on the Academy Awards going on out there. We don't have anything to do with that. But there are Betting Houses all around the world, speculating on the Oscar winners. A lot of money is involved. The Academy has a certain number of members from different areas of the industry. They make their vote, and all the results are kept top secret. There is a company in charge of protecting the envelopes with the final results to the stage the night of the Ceremony. The situation is that one of the Betting Houses is taking millions of dollars for a movie that is not a favorite. We don't know if the information has been filtered by one member of The Academy, or if it's a random coincidence. If one film that is not the favorite wins, and a lot of unexpected bets flow in the wrong direction, might look extremely dangerous, it would look as if a member could have filtered the information to someone to make money and manipulate the bets. Our confidence would be broken forever. It would be the end of the Academy," said Mr. Fairbanks.
"What makes you think that some member of the Academy would betray the secret?" asked Mr. Steele, his face full of curiosity.
Laura, who was still in shock, tried to find a gap in the conversation to put in an excuse to delay their compromise until they could analyze the case and get some information about the facts. But the men at the table didn't bother to give her a chance. It was a gentlemen's business discussion, and she was there only because Mr. Steele had introduced her. It didn't care she had been introduced like an associate. They were thinking about her as a secretary. And secretaries exist to receive orders, not to offer opinions.
After the whole explanation had already been done, and a meeting had been set for Monday morning, the men shook hands, and the detectives returned back to their table. Mr. Steele was satisfied with the turn of events. Finally, he would have the chance to be in touch with la crème de la crème in the film industry. However, Miss Holt wasn't satisfied at all. Right as they had sat down, she put her napkin back in place after a sharp shake before speaking, "May I remind you that the decision of agreeing to take a case involves not only yours but my opinion too. Why did you do that? This is huge! We are talking about The Academy! We should have listened to their words, and asked for some time to make an analysis of the case before agreeing to take it! This can blow up in front of our faces!"
"For Heaven's sake, Laura! Don't tell me you are not as intrigued as I am. Just think of the publicity this would bring to the Remington Steele Agency! We can't let the opportunity slip out of our hands. You know, Laura, luck doesn't knock at your door twice. You have to take the opportunity when you have the chance. And our day was today."
"I don't know if you realize that if this case doesn't end successfully, we'll be out of business. And if that happens, you would have to take your only chance to run away from my hands expediently, because if I have only one opportunity to strangle you, be sure that I will take it." She emphasized her last words graphically gesture.
"That's what I love about you, Miss Holt. You always trust me." He raised his glass and had a sip of wine, trying to finish their disagreement and start enjoying the rest of the meal.