Steeling a Dream:
Part 3: House of Steele (R)
Part 3: House of Steele (R)
Steeling a Dream:
Part 3: House of Steele
Part 3: House of Steele
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Steele Holting On
Chapter Twenty-Three: Questions
Tuesday afternoon, 6 December 1988 -- 36 weeks, 5 days
Siobhán gave up playing the piano and collapsed on the sofa. Remington closed his files and set them to
the side. “Care for tea?”
Laura stifled her disappointment at not continuing the investigation but admitted to herself she’d been
working or on her feet nearly the whole day. “I’d love some.”
She sat next to Siobhán while Remington bustled about the kitchen heating water and setting fruit, cheese
and crackers on a tray. Laura stroked her daughter’s hair, noting the faint shadows under her eyes. “Still
tired?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“You okay?”
Siobhán crossed her arms and rested her head on the pillow beside Laura. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t want to go get my mother’s things. Does that make me a bad kid?”
Laura’s heart ached at the sadness in her voice. “No, Siobhán. Rei told me you asked if your solicitor
could send them on. It’s not that you didn’t want her things, it’s that you didn’t want to go to--” she
stumbled on her words before recovering, “Denis’ house to get them.”
“Does that make me a coward because I didn’t want to go there?”
Only if it makes me one too. “No. But will you tell me why you didn’t want to go?”
Very softly, Siobhán said, “I’d overheard that Denis killed my mother. Da said he’d heard the same
thing. I can’t go when my mom must have hated living there.” Siobhán shifted so that her head rested
on Laura’s shoulder, and Laura moved so that she could wrap her arms around her daughter. “I … I
hardly remember her … but I miss her anyway.” A steady stream of tears began rolling down Siobhán’s
cheeks. “Please don’t take it wrong, Mom. I’m glad I have you and Da.”
“I understand, Siobhán,” Laura soothed. “It’s no different from when I wish my father hadn’t left when I
was young. He died several years later, and I never had a chance to know him or to ask why he left. So
I have all these questions, and I won’t ever have the answers.”
Siobhán gave up and cried all over her shoulder. “It’s not fair,” she said.
Laura held on to her, meeting Remington’s gaze from across the room. His pinched face told her he’d
overheard. “No, Siobhán, it’s not,” Laura told her daughter.
“Why, Mom? Why did Denis hurt my mother? Why didn’t Johnny save her?”
Laura wished she had better answers for her daughter. “Siobhán, Johnny respected your mother’s
wishes. We do that with people we love even if we don’t like their choices.”
“But why didn’t he make her stay with me?”
Laura pushed Siobhán’s hair out of her face and caressed the tears away. “Maybe they both knew that
the best way to keep you safe from Denis was to do exactly what they did. Denis wasn’t sane, Siobhán.
He probably would have come after Erin even if she was in Johnny’s home. I think he was terribly
possessive of her and couldn’t stand the idea of her being with anyone else.”
Siobhán sniffled back tears and took the tissue Remington held out. “Would he have hurt me?” She
blew her nose noisily and sat up, taking the tea he had made. “Thank you, Da.”
“You’re welcome.” Remington set Laura’s in front of her on the coffee table and made a point of
returning to the kitchen.
Laura wiggled until she could sit reasonably upright. “Yes, Siobhán, I think he would. As a parent, I
understand that your mom had a terrible choice to make--to either let you go and hope you would grow
up in spite of the circumstances, or to keep you with her and know you might have a more sinister fate in
store.”
Siobhán stared at the windows while she though. Neither Remington nor Laura interrupted her. They
sipped their drinks in silence.
At last, the gray-eyed teen nodded solemnly. “I get that. But it doesn’t excuse Johnny for leaving me
alone.”
Laura nodded. “I agree. He could have taken you to London with him and protected you there. But,”
she held up a hand, “Johnny’s made a lot of people angry. He’s used a lot of people and hurt a great
many more. Any number of those people have connections and might have used you to retaliate against
him--by either hurting you, killing you or holding you for ransom. Denis was at the top of that list,
Siobhán.” Laura took Siobhán’s hand between her own. “Johnny loves you. He may not be a very
good father, but he does love you. That much was apparent when he came to see Remington before
Interpol found him.”
“Why did Johnny go see Da? Johnny said he hadn’t seen Da since before I came to live with him, and
Da didn’t want anything to do with him.”
Laura’s eyebrows flew up, and she had to stifle a little shiver of her own. She hadn’t realized that
Siobhán knew that much about the two men’s relationship. From her vantage point, she could see Rei
listening intently from the kitchen.
With her usual rapid thought process, Laura determined how much to say and what to conceal. “It’s a
complicated story, sweetheart, and it isn’t very pretty. The short version is that Remington and I were in
Ireland earlier this year for a vacation. Denis wanted Remington to steal a diamond for him so that he
could sell it and hire someone to kill Johnny. He ... threatened us. We called Interpol, who helped us to
catch Denis and put him in jail. Johnny caught wind of it and realized that Remington Steele and Ciarán
McGee were one and the same. I think he did a little checking and liked what he saw.”
“So why did Interpol arrest Johnny?”
“Because Denis and Johnny, along with four other men, were partners in a lot of very illegal activities.
When Interpol investigated Denis, it all linked back to the others--including Johnny.”
Siobhán shook her head. “I don’t really get it.”
Laura took a deep breath and tried again. “Rei told you that Denis and Johnny were partners a long time
ago, right?” Siobhán nodded. “After your mom died, Johnny did his best to drop Denis from the
partnership, but everything was so tied up together that they couldn’t completely shake free of each
other. In the end, those links are what led Interpol to your father.”
With a sad maturity Siobhán shouldn’t have had at fifteen, she looked askance at Laura. “There’s a
whole lot more that you’re not telling me.”
Not surprised in the least at the girl’s sharp insight, Laura nodded. “You’re right. But it has to do with
Denis, not Johnny and Erin. When you’re older, I’ll tell you more.”
“Did you ever meet Denis?”
Laura quelled the urge to rub her knee. Instead, she replied, “Just once, Siobhán. That was enough. I,
for one, think your parents made the right choices when it came to you.” She gave her daughter one
more quick hug. “Will you be all right?”
Siobhán nodded. “Yeah. I think I’m going to go take a nap. I’m still on Ireland time.”
“Good. We’ll talk more later if you want.”
But the girl shook her head. “Not now. Maybe when all of the stuff from Ireland gets here.” A shy
gleam appeared in her eyes. “Some of Da’s stuff is in there.”
“Remington’s?” Laura asked. The possibility hadn't crossed her mind.
She nodded this time as she stood. “Some toys, pictures from his room, that sort of thing. I have a
teddy bear that was his. He tried to leave it all behind, but I wouldn’t let him. Told him you would be
ticked.”
Laura snorted. “Damn right. I can’t wait to see what you brought back.”
Siobhán shrugged and wandered off to her room.
“Nicely done, Laura.”
She collapsed backward on the sofa as her husband came to sit next to her. “For a moment, I felt like a
suspect trying to dodge the answers, but we promised we wouldn’t lie to her.”
“You didn’t. Now scoot over so I can put my hands on your belly.”
After dinner, Mildred faxed over a stack of data and called to give Laura the rundown on what she’d
discovered on Penny Descoine. “I’ve got an address for her dad’s old house, but not much else. I
haven’t been able to trace her whereabouts prior to that. Check with me in the morning; I’m waiting for
a couple of calls that might pan out.”
When Laura told Remington, she caught his look and crossed her arms. “Not tonight,” she insisted.
“Why not?” he asked irritably.
“Two reasons. One, you’re still jetlagged. Two, if we’re lucky, Miss Descoine will spend tomorrow
night in jail, and there won’t be anyone around to press charges for trespassing.”
“Damn your logic, Laura. I was looking forward to a bit of fun,” Remington muttered.
“Yes, well, if she’s anything like her father, she’s booby-trapped her whole house. You’ll need your wits
about you if you’re to disarm all of them.” Laura recalled her own midnight foray the first time she’d
nailed Major Descoine. It hadn’t been pretty. She’d narrowly avoided a nasty trap. If she’d been too
hasty, she’d have been discovered at best, seriously injured at worst.
Reluctantly, he agreed. Later though, after Siobhán had gone to bed and while Laura soaked in the tub,
Remington placed a call to his brother-in-law. He told Murphy what he and Laura had pieced together
that day.
“What’s your take on Miss Descoine, Murph?”
“I don’t know. I only vaguely remember Laura telling me about Descoine when she put him away the
first time. Didn’t his girlfriend commit suicide instead of going to jail?”
Remington nodded. “Yes. Killed herself in an acid bath. Strange bloke. Wants to kill us, but likes to
see if we can outwit him. Score’s three to zip, and I’d rather keep it that way.”
“So, what’s his daughter got to do with it?”
“She helped him the last time. Tripped something or another to set fire to the flat they’d set up. Come
to think of it, they had a number of pictures of us on the mantle then too.” He grimaced in memory.
“She seemed delighted and shocked that we managed to escape. In the end, we caught him, but we
never found her.”
“So maybe she has a screw loose too?”
“Perhaps. Certainly, she didn’t have any compunction about trying to kill us.”
“How old is she?”
“Oh, I’d guess she was in her late teens. That was five or six years ago. So twenty-one, maybe?”
Remington mused. “I think Sandra indicated twenty-two in the file, but that may not be entirely
accurate.”
“You going to bring in the police?”
“I might. But they can’t do much more than harass her in the same way she’s been irritating us.”
“But if she violates a restraining order, you’ll have grounds to have her thrown in jail.”
“Aye. That's something.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I want to take a look at her place.”
“Hell, yeah. But what does Laura think about that?”
“Not tonight on account of jetlag. Tomorrow night is fair game.”
“You think she’ll stay put?”
Remington chuckled. “Sure, if only because she’s terrified of being stuck in bed for the next four and a
half weeks. Doctor’s orders--she’s not to work on any more cases except for paperwork.”
“I’m happy not to be in your shoes.”
“There is that,” he paused. “Murph--you should have seen the way she put together the clues before I
came home,” he continued with pride. “Pinpointing the angles Miss Descoine took the photos from was
sheer brilliance. I’d have been sorting through two hundred photos looking for a familiar face.”
Murphy snorted. “Just proves a point that she can do a great deal more from the desk than she cares to
admit.”
“We all can.”
“But the fun is getting out of the office.”
Remington grinned in agreement. “My sentiments exactly. Nevertheless, Laura needs a few more
options while we have an infant.”
“You do know her.”
“Aye, Michaels. I always have.”
Silence reigned on the line for a moment. “Just how long would you have waited for her?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
10 November 2009
Chapter Twenty-Four: Answers
Tuesday afternoon, 6 December 1988 -- 36 weeks, 5 days
Siobhán gave up playing the piano and collapsed on the sofa. Remington closed his files and set them to
the side. “Care for tea?”
Laura stifled her disappointment at not continuing the investigation but admitted to herself she’d been
working or on her feet nearly the whole day. “I’d love some.”
She sat next to Siobhán while Remington bustled about the kitchen heating water and setting fruit, cheese
and crackers on a tray. Laura stroked her daughter’s hair, noting the faint shadows under her eyes. “Still
tired?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“You okay?”
Siobhán crossed her arms and rested her head on the pillow beside Laura. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t want to go get my mother’s things. Does that make me a bad kid?”
Laura’s heart ached at the sadness in her voice. “No, Siobhán. Rei told me you asked if your solicitor
could send them on. It’s not that you didn’t want her things, it’s that you didn’t want to go to--” she
stumbled on her words before recovering, “Denis’ house to get them.”
“Does that make me a coward because I didn’t want to go there?”
Only if it makes me one too. “No. But will you tell me why you didn’t want to go?”
Very softly, Siobhán said, “I’d overheard that Denis killed my mother. Da said he’d heard the same
thing. I can’t go when my mom must have hated living there.” Siobhán shifted so that her head rested
on Laura’s shoulder, and Laura moved so that she could wrap her arms around her daughter. “I … I
hardly remember her … but I miss her anyway.” A steady stream of tears began rolling down Siobhán’s
cheeks. “Please don’t take it wrong, Mom. I’m glad I have you and Da.”
“I understand, Siobhán,” Laura soothed. “It’s no different from when I wish my father hadn’t left when I
was young. He died several years later, and I never had a chance to know him or to ask why he left. So
I have all these questions, and I won’t ever have the answers.”
Siobhán gave up and cried all over her shoulder. “It’s not fair,” she said.
Laura held on to her, meeting Remington’s gaze from across the room. His pinched face told her he’d
overheard. “No, Siobhán, it’s not,” Laura told her daughter.
“Why, Mom? Why did Denis hurt my mother? Why didn’t Johnny save her?”
Laura wished she had better answers for her daughter. “Siobhán, Johnny respected your mother’s
wishes. We do that with people we love even if we don’t like their choices.”
“But why didn’t he make her stay with me?”
Laura pushed Siobhán’s hair out of her face and caressed the tears away. “Maybe they both knew that
the best way to keep you safe from Denis was to do exactly what they did. Denis wasn’t sane, Siobhán.
He probably would have come after Erin even if she was in Johnny’s home. I think he was terribly
possessive of her and couldn’t stand the idea of her being with anyone else.”
Siobhán sniffled back tears and took the tissue Remington held out. “Would he have hurt me?” She
blew her nose noisily and sat up, taking the tea he had made. “Thank you, Da.”
“You’re welcome.” Remington set Laura’s in front of her on the coffee table and made a point of
returning to the kitchen.
Laura wiggled until she could sit reasonably upright. “Yes, Siobhán, I think he would. As a parent, I
understand that your mom had a terrible choice to make--to either let you go and hope you would grow
up in spite of the circumstances, or to keep you with her and know you might have a more sinister fate in
store.”
Siobhán stared at the windows while she though. Neither Remington nor Laura interrupted her. They
sipped their drinks in silence.
At last, the gray-eyed teen nodded solemnly. “I get that. But it doesn’t excuse Johnny for leaving me
alone.”
Laura nodded. “I agree. He could have taken you to London with him and protected you there. But,”
she held up a hand, “Johnny’s made a lot of people angry. He’s used a lot of people and hurt a great
many more. Any number of those people have connections and might have used you to retaliate against
him--by either hurting you, killing you or holding you for ransom. Denis was at the top of that list,
Siobhán.” Laura took Siobhán’s hand between her own. “Johnny loves you. He may not be a very
good father, but he does love you. That much was apparent when he came to see Remington before
Interpol found him.”
“Why did Johnny go see Da? Johnny said he hadn’t seen Da since before I came to live with him, and
Da didn’t want anything to do with him.”
Laura’s eyebrows flew up, and she had to stifle a little shiver of her own. She hadn’t realized that
Siobhán knew that much about the two men’s relationship. From her vantage point, she could see Rei
listening intently from the kitchen.
With her usual rapid thought process, Laura determined how much to say and what to conceal. “It’s a
complicated story, sweetheart, and it isn’t very pretty. The short version is that Remington and I were in
Ireland earlier this year for a vacation. Denis wanted Remington to steal a diamond for him so that he
could sell it and hire someone to kill Johnny. He ... threatened us. We called Interpol, who helped us to
catch Denis and put him in jail. Johnny caught wind of it and realized that Remington Steele and Ciarán
McGee were one and the same. I think he did a little checking and liked what he saw.”
“So why did Interpol arrest Johnny?”
“Because Denis and Johnny, along with four other men, were partners in a lot of very illegal activities.
When Interpol investigated Denis, it all linked back to the others--including Johnny.”
Siobhán shook her head. “I don’t really get it.”
Laura took a deep breath and tried again. “Rei told you that Denis and Johnny were partners a long time
ago, right?” Siobhán nodded. “After your mom died, Johnny did his best to drop Denis from the
partnership, but everything was so tied up together that they couldn’t completely shake free of each
other. In the end, those links are what led Interpol to your father.”
With a sad maturity Siobhán shouldn’t have had at fifteen, she looked askance at Laura. “There’s a
whole lot more that you’re not telling me.”
Not surprised in the least at the girl’s sharp insight, Laura nodded. “You’re right. But it has to do with
Denis, not Johnny and Erin. When you’re older, I’ll tell you more.”
“Did you ever meet Denis?”
Laura quelled the urge to rub her knee. Instead, she replied, “Just once, Siobhán. That was enough. I,
for one, think your parents made the right choices when it came to you.” She gave her daughter one
more quick hug. “Will you be all right?”
Siobhán nodded. “Yeah. I think I’m going to go take a nap. I’m still on Ireland time.”
“Good. We’ll talk more later if you want.”
But the girl shook her head. “Not now. Maybe when all of the stuff from Ireland gets here.” A shy
gleam appeared in her eyes. “Some of Da’s stuff is in there.”
“Remington’s?” Laura asked. The possibility hadn't crossed her mind.
She nodded this time as she stood. “Some toys, pictures from his room, that sort of thing. I have a
teddy bear that was his. He tried to leave it all behind, but I wouldn’t let him. Told him you would be
ticked.”
Laura snorted. “Damn right. I can’t wait to see what you brought back.”
Siobhán shrugged and wandered off to her room.
“Nicely done, Laura.”
She collapsed backward on the sofa as her husband came to sit next to her. “For a moment, I felt like a
suspect trying to dodge the answers, but we promised we wouldn’t lie to her.”
“You didn’t. Now scoot over so I can put my hands on your belly.”
After dinner, Mildred faxed over a stack of data and called to give Laura the rundown on what she’d
discovered on Penny Descoine. “I’ve got an address for her dad’s old house, but not much else. I
haven’t been able to trace her whereabouts prior to that. Check with me in the morning; I’m waiting for
a couple of calls that might pan out.”
When Laura told Remington, she caught his look and crossed her arms. “Not tonight,” she insisted.
“Why not?” he asked irritably.
“Two reasons. One, you’re still jetlagged. Two, if we’re lucky, Miss Descoine will spend tomorrow
night in jail, and there won’t be anyone around to press charges for trespassing.”
“Damn your logic, Laura. I was looking forward to a bit of fun,” Remington muttered.
“Yes, well, if she’s anything like her father, she’s booby-trapped her whole house. You’ll need your wits
about you if you’re to disarm all of them.” Laura recalled her own midnight foray the first time she’d
nailed Major Descoine. It hadn’t been pretty. She’d narrowly avoided a nasty trap. If she’d been too
hasty, she’d have been discovered at best, seriously injured at worst.
Reluctantly, he agreed. Later though, after Siobhán had gone to bed and while Laura soaked in the tub,
Remington placed a call to his brother-in-law. He told Murphy what he and Laura had pieced together
that day.
“What’s your take on Miss Descoine, Murph?”
“I don’t know. I only vaguely remember Laura telling me about Descoine when she put him away the
first time. Didn’t his girlfriend commit suicide instead of going to jail?”
Remington nodded. “Yes. Killed herself in an acid bath. Strange bloke. Wants to kill us, but likes to
see if we can outwit him. Score’s three to zip, and I’d rather keep it that way.”
“So, what’s his daughter got to do with it?”
“She helped him the last time. Tripped something or another to set fire to the flat they’d set up. Come
to think of it, they had a number of pictures of us on the mantle then too.” He grimaced in memory.
“She seemed delighted and shocked that we managed to escape. In the end, we caught him, but we
never found her.”
“So maybe she has a screw loose too?”
“Perhaps. Certainly, she didn’t have any compunction about trying to kill us.”
“How old is she?”
“Oh, I’d guess she was in her late teens. That was five or six years ago. So twenty-one, maybe?”
Remington mused. “I think Sandra indicated twenty-two in the file, but that may not be entirely
accurate.”
“You going to bring in the police?”
“I might. But they can’t do much more than harass her in the same way she’s been irritating us.”
“But if she violates a restraining order, you’ll have grounds to have her thrown in jail.”
“Aye. That's something.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I want to take a look at her place.”
“Hell, yeah. But what does Laura think about that?”
“Not tonight on account of jetlag. Tomorrow night is fair game.”
“You think she’ll stay put?”
Remington chuckled. “Sure, if only because she’s terrified of being stuck in bed for the next four and a
half weeks. Doctor’s orders--she’s not to work on any more cases except for paperwork.”
“I’m happy not to be in your shoes.”
“There is that,” he paused. “Murph--you should have seen the way she put together the clues before I
came home,” he continued with pride. “Pinpointing the angles Miss Descoine took the photos from was
sheer brilliance. I’d have been sorting through two hundred photos looking for a familiar face.”
Murphy snorted. “Just proves a point that she can do a great deal more from the desk than she cares to
admit.”
“We all can.”
“But the fun is getting out of the office.”
Remington grinned in agreement. “My sentiments exactly. Nevertheless, Laura needs a few more
options while we have an infant.”
“You do know her.”
“Aye, Michaels. I always have.”
Silence reigned on the line for a moment. “Just how long would you have waited for her?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
10 November 2009
Chapter Twenty-Four: Answers