First Meetings

35

A series of first meetings short stories and scenes that I hope to add to over time. Each section will be complete in its own right.

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1 – Elijah

Hutch pounded down the alleyway, hoping to catch up with the reprehensible thief who had targeted an old lady for her purse. Starsky had driven around the block, hoping to cut the thief off. The thief had had a good head start on Hutch but even so he couldn’t understand how quickly he could have disappeared from sight. The only other person in the alleyway was an elderly hobo, looking through a large drum hoping to find something useful. A fleeting feeling of sympathy ran through Hutch as he passed by. He wished he could slow down for a chat and maybe give the man his spare change. But he carried on, knowing he had to try to catch up with the thief.

Behind him he heard an urgent rattling noise. He slowed down and looked over his shoulder. The older man was shaking a can of coins at him but also pointing to the left. Following his instincts, Hutch stopped and started slowly walking back down the alleyway. He noticed a small door that he hadn’t seen on the way through. He looked at the hobo. The man nodded at him and pointed again and then went back to searching the oil drum.

Cautiously, Hutch opened the door. Inside, was a small room with shelving and hiding unsuccessfully in the corner was the thief. Hutch soon had him cuffed.

As he came back out into the alleyway, he paused and shouted, “Thank you! My name’s Hutch.”

The elderly man smiled and nodded and shuffled off in the opposite direction. Hutch turned and pushed his quarry ahead of him towards where his partner and the Torino where now waiting.

“Well done on catching up to this guy,” Starsky said.

“I had a little help,” Hutch said. “Get him the car, will you? I’ll be right back.”

Hutch jogged back down the alleyway and caught up with the elderly man. He thanked him again and gave him all his small change, apologising because he didn’t have more.

The man smiled at him and said, “Thank you, Hutch. My name’s ‘Lijah.”

“See you around, ‘Lijah,” Hutch said and then hurried back to Starsky.

“Who was that?” his partner wanted to know.

“A new friend,” Hutch said.

* * *

2- Dobey

Starsky climbed out of his car and looked around the lot. There were a mixture of squad cars and other cars mingled together. A mixture of people too. He eyed a pretty girl about to enter the building and hoped he’d get a chance to talk to her soon.

He walked into the building, asked for directions and headed towards the third floor. Outside the office door, he paused for the briefest moment and then knocked.

“Come in!” a gruff voice shouted.

Starsky walked in and waited. He rocked imperceptibly on the balls of his feet but tried not to look nervous. The large man in front of him had returned to a heated conversation on the phone. Starsky listened with interest, wondering who was on the other end.

Dobey slammed the phone down and wiped at his face with a large, white handkerchief.

“Sit, Detective Starsky.”

Starsky sprawled in the nearest chair and then rearranged himself so he looked more alert. Dobey peered at him, an inscrutable expression on his face, and then opened a file on his desk.

Without looking at him, Dobey said quietly, “Most officers in my squad wear suits.”

Starsky said lightly, “I’m not most officers.”

Dobey frowned.

There was another knock at the door and Dobey told the person to come in. Hutch’s tall frame filled the doorway as he entered, greeting Dobey and then grinning at Starsky.

“Take a seat, Detective Hutchinson.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hutch said.

He sat down next to Starsky, who muttered, “Boy Scout!” under his breath.

Dobey frowned at both of them and then asked, “Would you like to explain your relaxed clothing?”

They looked at each other as if surprised, although they weren’t, then Hutch answered for both of them.

“We feel we will blend in more on the street if we wear casual clothes. Besides it’s easier to run after someone if you’re not wearing smart shoes and a tight suit.”

Starsky nodded.

“And if I say I want you to dress smart?” Dobey asked.

Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances and this time Starsky answered, “You won’t because you want the best and we’re the best.”

Dobey smothered a smile with a frown.

“Hmm.” He closed the file and held it out. “Well, you’d better get to work.”

Both men nodded at him and headed out of the door into the squad room.

“Starsky! Close the door!” Dobey roared.

“Oops, sorry, Cap.”

Starsky said this apologetically, but Dobey could swear he saw a twinkle in his eyes.

These two we’re going to be trouble and he was looking forward to every second of it.

 

3 – Jackson Walters

Starsky heard the sound of someone being punched hard in the stomach. It was a distinctive sound: a hit against something semi-soft followed by an exhalation of pained breath. He rounded the corner of the mess tent and saw four men: two were holding a third while the fourth was getting ready to punch again.

“What’s going on here?” Starsky demanded as he strode towards the group. “Let him go immediately!”

The three white soldiers, a Corporal and two Privates, instantly stopped what they were doing. The third, a black Corporal, bent over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. The three protagonists stared sullenly at Starsky, but said nothing.

He stared them down before asking again, “What’s going on here?”

They looked at each other and then one of them said, “Just a disagreement is all.”

“A disagreement that caused you to lay hands on a superior officer,” Starsky pointed out, concentrating his comments on the two Privates. “I could have you up on charges.”

He saw the black Corporal shake his head slightly.

“Get back to work, you two, and I don’t ever want to see anything like this happening again, capiche?”

They nodded and he glared at him.

“Yes, Sarge,” they both said quickly. They saluted and hurried away.

The Corporal moved as if to go but Starsky got in his way and pointed a finger at him.

“Takes a big man to hit someone while his friends hold him tight,” he hissed. “I’ll be watching you, Jenkins. Every. Single. Day.”

Jenkins swallowed and hurried away.

Starsky turned to the man who had been beaten.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, Sarge, I’m fine…Thanks.”

Starsky nodded. As he held out his hand, he said, “Walters, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sarge. Jackson Walters.”

“I’m Dave Starsky.”

They shook hands.

“Well, Jackson, you should get checked out by the doc.”

“Thanks Sarge but I’ll live. I’ve been through worse.”

Starsky nodded sadly. “I’m sure…but hopefully not while I’m around.”

As they walked back through the camp, Starsky said, “I’m from Bay City but born in New York. Where do you come from?”

Jackson stopped, looking surprised.

“I’m from Bay City!”

They grinned at each other.

“Well, ain’t that great,” Starsky said. “The two guys from Bay City will have to stick together.”

Jackson nodded as the two of them continued walking. Soon they were talking about places they both knew and a friendship took its first steps.

 

4 – Huggy meets the guys

He sat in the back of the car, wondering why two detectives would bother with picking up a small collar like himself. Clearly, they had nothing better to do with their time today. Or maybe they were just lazy and going for easy wins? Some win! He snorted softly to himself.

But not softly enough it seemed when the blond half of the not-so-dynamic duo asked, “Something funny?”

He shrugged and looked out of the window. He wondered how much the fine would be for selling items from a street stall without a licence. Most of the stuff he sold was worth a couple of dollars a piece: it wasn’t like he was making a fortune. What a waste of everyone’s time! His ears suddenly caught up with the quiet conversation that was going on and he tuned in without appearing to do so.

“Think she’ll make it?”

There was a pause and then a regretful: “No.”

“We gotta get this stuff of the streets! It’s killing people.”

“I know, Starsky, I know. But if Vice has got no clue where this so-called Sweet Dream is being sold from, how are we supposed to find out? We don’t know anyone that uses that’s reliable.”

“What about Tall Teddy?”

“That waste of space? He lies through his back teeth for the price of a beer. You know that!”

“Yeah, Hutch, I know…but we can’t watch another high school kid…I mean they should be thinking about ‘does so and so like me’ or ‘did I flunk my geometry test?’ not running the risk of dying ’cause some scumbag persuaded them to try Sweet Dream!”

“I know.”

It went quiet and a depressed silence hung between the two detectives. In the back, the man chewed over what he had heard.

After a moment, he said, “Er, hey my fine law enforcement officers, could I make my one phonecall before we get to the precinct?”

“Why?”

“Because the guy who can bail me out, will be going to work shortly and I need to catch him or else I’ll spend all day waiting, ya dig?”

They looked at each other.

“If I’m stuck all day, I won’t be able to collect my niece and nephew from school and they’ll be disappointed…and my sister will kill me! There’s a telephone booth on third…”

Again, they looked at each other. The dark haired one shrugged as if answering a question and then slowed the car down as they approached the telephone booth.

“Make it quick!” the blond called Hutch said, as he helped him out of the back of the car.

“What number?” the guy called Starsky asked.

He told him and once the phone was ringing Starsky held it to his ear. It was answered after five rings.

“Manny? It’s Huggy…Got a friend who wants to score that new stuff that’s out. Sweet Dream I think they call it. Do you know who he goes to to get a sample?” Huggy could feel their eyes boring into him but he ignored them. “Not safe, you say. Thanks for the warning, my man. Is it Diego’s product? He usually cuts clean…Ah, that makes sense. I’ll warn him off. Thanks Manny.”

The phonecall finished and Starsky hung up the phone. Huggy saw both detectives looking at him. He turned slightly, offering his handcuffed hands towards them.

“Maybe we could do something about these?”

Hutch exchanged looks with Starsky. Starsky shrugged. Hutch pulled a key out of his pocket. It was like an entire conversation had gone on silently and Huggy found himself intrigued.

He rubbed at his now free wrists as he said, “Maybe we could come to an arrangement, compadres?”

Hutch glared at him.

“Not money,” Huggy clarified, “Maybe you forget about me not having a licence and I tell you something I know you want to know.”

Starsky nodded. “Sounds fair. If your information is good?”

“It’s good.”

“Okay. Deal. Who’s the supplier?”

“New into the business. A wacko called Crazy Louie. He’s so crazy he don’t bother to hide it.”

“And where do we find this Crazy Louie?”

“Warehouse near the south end of the docks.”

The two detectives looked at each other again. Then Starsky took Huggy’s suitcase of goods out of the trunk of the Torino and handed it to him.

“Don’t let us catch you again,” Hutch warned.

Huggy nodded. “Nice looking car. It’s got style!” he said to Starsky.

Starsky gave him a toothy grin. “Thanks Huggy. See ya around.”

They climbed into the car. Before they could drive away, Huggy leaned in the window.

“You get that stuff off the street. I don’t want it anywhere near my niece and nephew!”

“We’ll do our best.”

Huggy looked at them both and then said, “Warehouse 136. Be careful.”

Surprise showing on his face, Hutch said, “Thank you.”

Huggy nodded and stepped back and watched as the red car roared away. He was pretty sure he’d be seeing those cops again and somehow he didn’t mind.