He was brought to the San Diego penitentiary. There he was fingerprinted, forced to undress, searched from head to toe. There was not an orifice that was not touched, poked and inspected. He got an orange colored overall made off some stiff cotton cloth. When he was re-dressed he got a chain around his waist, his hands cuffed to the chain and his feet were shackeled. Finally, packaged like a hardcore felon he was manhandled through long hallways, constantly stumbling in his restraints. His clothes were confiscated and Remington Steele was locked away in a cell, where he got lost in his desperate thoughts. It was already late in the evening and the questioning would not take place until the next morning.
He could not believe it. He had always considered the United States being a constitutional state, where the authorities had to prove his guilt before he could be sentenced. Here it seemed to be the opposite. He knew how hard a policeman's job could be. Constantly being exposed to the bad part of human existence was not easy. Of course he was guilty of some maledictions, but nobody was hurt, he could even prevent worse, if they would just listen to him! He kept banging at the door, getting louder and more and more impatient, until finally two guards entered.
„Pray to God or what ever you belive in, that you can offer a good reason fort he row you are making. Otherwise we will show you what it means to be annoying around here!" Again Steele started to explain: "Please, that's so important, please listen to me, my secretary…" He could not speak any further. The guards entered his cell and cornered him. One of them took him by his jaw and knocking his head hard against the concrete wall. "You rotten criminal son of a ***, now just be very, very grateful I won't knock out all of your teeth. Don't you dare disturbing our work here once again or you will pay for it!" A rough blow to Steele's face emphasized his announcement. His colleague assisted him in restraining Steele again, in the same fashion as before and ruggedly shoved him onto the floor. "And just in case you should dare to ever open your mouth again, better number your bones before, so that you can put yourself together again after we grilled you." With these words the guards left his cell. All his begging and whimpering to make a testimony right now was neglected.
Steele was not able to get up from the floor again so he had to spend the night sitting on the floor, frightened with worry and fear for the lives of two people who meant a lot to him. He hardly ever before was able to trust anyone. Laura had helped him out of his self-induced separation, taught him to love, share and trust and gain a positive attitude toward his life and the people around him. Even Mildred, who in his opinion way to often barged into their relationship- he would miss her constant mothering. Now she had to spend the Night in the closet, uncomfortably, gagged and restrained. Compared to this his condition was almost luxurious. A bad conscience added to his worries. He did not even dare to think about what could have happened to Laura. Delgetti was reckless, calculating and not giving a damn about the lives of those standing in his way. Steele still could not believe nobody would listen to him, that even every time he started to talk he was treated more and more reckless. He was definitely not working on his best today, but what could he have done differently without risking either Mildred's or Laura's life? He was not even able to help Mildred!