Chapter 5

"Ah, Monroe, you've done it, my good friend. These plans are perfect," Remington announced as he studied the blueprints before him. "And you're sure the contractors are all on the up and up? Licensed and all that?"

"No worries, Mick. I did a thorough check on all the contractors just like you asked," Monroe assured him. "I know how particular your lovely bride can be, so I went ahead and had the contractor draw up a schedule… a timetable of sorts. If all goes well, and she approves of your design ideas, they can begin within the month."

Remington dropped the blueprints onto his desk and scrubbed his mouth with one hand. "Yes, well. I haven't told her about any of this just yet. I wanted it to be a surprise," he admitted.

Monroe threw his head back and laughed loudly, "You are a glutton for punishment, my old friend. You had me commission these plans, arrange for contractors and you haven't even told her yet?"

Remington carefully rolled the blueprints back up and tucked them into the cardboard tube on the corner of his desk. "Yes, well, as that very well may be, when it comes to my wife, it's worth every minute," he stated with a smile. He placed the tube under his desk and rubbed his hands together.

"Speaking of Laura, where is she? I haven't seen, nor heard her once this entire time," Monroe stated as he looked around, expecting to see Laura appear any moment.

"My wife is home, resting. She's had a nasty cold since we've returned from Greece and Mildred and I finally convinced her to see a doctor yesterday. She's been given a hearty dose of antibiotics and a prescription for rest," Remington explained.

Monroe shook his head with a grin, "How's she taking it?"

Remington pursed his lips, "Well, I managed to keep her on the couch most of the evening with the promise of chicken soup for dinner and this morning, I left her sleeping like a baby. She called when she woke, complained she wanted to come in until I assured her, I left a full stack of paperwork on the dining room table for her to go through provided she does it from the comforts of the Rossmore."

"And how did she respond?" Monroe teased.

"She informed me, in not so many words, that I had best complete all my paperwork or else I'll be running surveillance alone on our next case. Which, by the way, is due in any time now, my old friend, so I must end our conference," Remington stated with a nod. He stood slowly and offered his hand to Monroe who gladly squeezed it once before he reached out and patted Remington's shoulder.

"I'll wait to hear from you, Mon Cher," Monroe exhaled. "Until then."

"Until then," Remington smiled and watched Monroe exit his office. He could hear Monroe politely say goodbye to Mildred as he passed by. Several seconds later, his intercom buzzed. "Yes, Mildred."

"Hey, Chief, your one o'clock called and he's running a few minutes late. I'm going to run down to pick up something for lunch. Can I get you anything?" Mildred's voice drifted through the speaker.

Remington tapped one finger on the desk and said, "I'll grab something after that appointment shows up. What was he coming here for again?"

"He's looking for something. Wouldn't give me a whole lot more than that," Mildred stated.

Remington frowned, "Looking for something, eh? All right, thanks, Mildred."

"I'll be back soon, Boss," Mildred informed him before he heard the distinct click of the intercom disconnecting. He watched as Mildred pulled her coat on and headed out of the door.

Remington picked up the phone and dialed his apartment number and waited as the phone rang twice. He started to hang up the phone when he heard Laura answer, "Steele residence." "Oh, how I've missed the sound of your voice this morning, Laura," Remington teased.

"Well, it's nice to hear from you, too," Laura replied with a gravelly voice. She was propped up on the couch, a box of tissues beside her and a cup of tea on the coffee table. "How has your day been?"

"Well, I've finished off most of the files Mildred left on my desk, had a meeting with Monroe regarding the last few security contracts he was working on and now I'm currently awaiting our one o'clock who is apparently running late today. How are you feeling?" Remington rattled off.

Laura inhaled loudly, coughed a few times then replied, "No worse for the wear, I guess. I had a nice soak in the tub with plenty of steam to help clear my head and now I'm on the couch with some tea, just beginning to go through the files you left for me."

Remington sighed, "Just don't do too much. Rest, remember, that's why you're home and I'm here."

"Don't worry, I'm still so tired from lack of sleep I don't think I could do too much. What time do you think you'll be back?" she asked.

Remington checked his watch and thought, "Well, with any luck, I'll be out of here as soon as this client gets here. Mildred has a few things she's working on, some research she said. I'll tell her to go as soon as she's done. Can I stop and get you anything on my way?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm just going to finish up these reports and try to take another nap," Laura said softly.

"How about dinner tonight? Soup again or are you in the mood for something else?" Remington questioned.

Laura settled back against the pillows on the couch and rested her arm above her head as she thought. "I don't know. What do you think?" she finally breathed.

"Something light yet filling all the same. Ah, I know. That new place down on Westwood. I could pick up some thin-sliced pizza and salad perhaps? All the toppings you wish," he suggested.

"Mmmm, pizza does sound good. All right, you decide the toppings, only no anchovies," Laura declared. "I'm going to get back to finishing these reports before they finish me. I'll see you later."

Remington smiled, "I'll look forward to it. Oh, and one more thing, Mrs. Steele."

"What's that, Mr. Steele?" Laura replied.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," he stated. "I'll see you at home." Remington hung up the phone just before he heard someone enter the foyer.

"Hello?" a man's voice called out. "I'm sorry I'm late. I had a one o'clock appointment with Mr. Steele?"

Remington quickly sidestepped his desk and straightened his tie as he moved through the doorway, "Hello there. I'm Remington Steele. How can I help you, Mr…?"

"Clark. Russell Clark and I really need your help," the man stated.

"Here, come, come. Into my office," Remington guided the man into his office before he leaned against the edge of his desk. "Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Clark?"

Russell Clark sat across from Remington nervously. He was a small man with a thin build, grey hair and a thick bushy mustache. He wore thick-rimmed glasses which he continuously adjusted on his face. He looked over his shoulder at the empty foyer before he stated, "I need your help finding something for me. Well, it's not really for me, it's for a friend of mine."

"All right, what is it exactly you are looking for?" Remington questioned.

"Well, I need to find the key to a safety deposit box," Russell explained.

Remington furrowed his brow for a moment then asked, "And where precisely is this key supposed to be?"

Russell pulled an envelope out of the inside jacket pocket of his brown herringbone tweed suit and said, "That's the thing. I'm not really sure. I mean Johnny, that's my friend that needs help, sent me this letter asking me to find the key based on the clues in the letter only I'm not real good at this kind of thing. You see, I'm an accountant for a small business. I deal with balance sheets and bank statements, not clues."

Remington ran his hand along his tie and asked, "Your friend Johnny. Why does he need you to find this key for him?"

"Honestly Mr. Steele, I haven't heard from Johnny in almost twelve years. Then, out of the blue, last week, I got this letter from him. Only thing is there's no return address, no way for me to get in touch with him," Russell revealed.

Remington furrowed his brow and asked, "So, what is it he wants you to do with the key once you find it?"

Russell pulled the single sheet of paper from the envelope and read, "It says here he wants me to take the contents of the box to the FBI. That's it."

"Can I see that letter?" Remington asked as he held his hand out.

"Of course, that's why I came to you in the first place. You're the best around, and well, Johnny was a good friend of mine and from the sounds of things, he needs help. The way I look at it, why not get the best help I can. Right, Mr. Steele?" Russell asked.

Remington smiled as he skimmed the contents of the neatly printed letter. "Well, Mr. Clark, it appears you have come to the right place. Just a quick question though. He mentions the movie, Point Blank. Any ideas why?"

Russell nodded enthusiastically, "That was his favorite movie. He watched part of it being filmed down in the flood basins."

Remington scrubbed his jaw for a moment and asked, "But what does that have to do with the key?"

"That's where I need your help. He says the answer to where the key is, can be found in the movie," Russell stated.

"A movie, eh?" Remington muttered with a shake of his head. "Well, I'll have to confer with my associate before we make any decisions, you understand."

Russell nodded nervously, "I hope you can help me. I don't want to let Johnny down. He was always good to me back in the day and I do miss him so I wanna help him."

Remington slood slowly, handed Russell back the letter, and smiled. "Don't worry, Mr. Clark. I'll take the liberty of explaining everything to my associate and I'll get back to you in a day or two with an answer. Let me see you out," he stated. He dropped his arm across Russell's shoulders and guided him back into the agency foyer.

Russell stopped just before the door and added, "Mr. Steele, I hope Johnny isn't in any real trouble. When he just disappeared, well, I thought the worst had happened to him, you know. And to know now that he's alive and just needs help… I need to know what happened all these years."

Remington nodded once more, "I understand. You'll hear from us soon, I promise that. After all, my word is my bond."