“For instance” Steele began “did you know that I once stole the “Three Nude’s of Cairo”, it’s a painting—very valuable at that. Of course Laura made me give it back, but for a few moments I was the owner of one of the greatest paintings ever…painted.”

This interview was not at all what Clark had imagined. Steele was supposed to be tight lipped and reluctant, the Clark would whip out the photographic evidence and Steele would crack under the pressure—at least that’s how it had played out in his head. Now the complete opposite was occurring, and to top it off Steele somehow discovered his secret.

“And that’s not even the half of it” Steele grabbed the lapels of Clark’s jacket and mock whispered “I’m not even Remington Steele” Steele darted his eyes around the room as if to confirm that they were alone “Laura invented him, he doesn’t exist. At least he didn’t before 1980—do you know where I was in 1980?” Steele asked, looking as if he expected Clark to answer “I was in South Africa, don’t really remember why, but that’s not the point—the point I’m trying to make Mr. Kent is that I’m a fraud. I owe everything I am to Laura Steele-Holt…I mean Laura Steele…ur Holt Steele. “

Steele glanced at it speculatively “You’re not thinking of opening it are you? That would be a blatant invasion of privacy Mrs. Steele—“

“Your point being?” Laura asked giving him some eyebrow of her own.

“No point, I’m just wondering what’s taking you so long to open the bloody thing.”

He entered the room, and maneuvered over to the bed. With a quick flick of the wrist he pulled the sheet back to reveal two pillows embedded with bullet holes, it was less than a second later that his whole world went dark.