Starsky and Hutch, young rookies fresh out of the Academy, struggle with their new responsibilities. Working different shifts, they share their concerns and frustrations the only way they can, by communicating through the Los Angeles Police Department’s official memo system.
Originally published in …Turned to Fire, a Starsky and Hutch slash anthology zine published by the Idiot Triplets Press in 1994.
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 6-18
RE: What’s this RE:?
Ain’t it a bitch, working Sundays?
So, how’s it going? From what I hear, Huntley can be pretty rough on rookies.
My “partner,” Niehause, keeps calling me a hotdog, & this morning he complained to Lt. Ebershoff that I’m trying to get him killed. Like it was my fault about that riot, like I sent out invitations to a buncha lunitics with guns.
Do more fucking typing here… I oughta gone to secritrttarial secretarial school. An’ this damn carbon paper oughta come with instructions. I hadta type a whole page over just ’cause I put in one sheet upside down. An’ Niehause just laughs at me. Some partner he is.
Anyhow, Lt. E has got me at my desk, typing shit till he can think of something worse to do to me. I haven’t told him, but there ain’t nothin’ worse. If I’da wanted to spend my life typing, I’da joined a steno pool… at least the scenery’d be better. You think they purposely designed policewomens’ uniforms to make ’em look like they don’t fit? Not that it matters—I don’t have time to get laid anyhow, & it doesn’t look like that’s gonna change any time in the near future. Lt. E says Niehause doesn’t want to be my partner & neither does anybody else. I think he expected me to cry or something.
Speaking of getting laid, how’s Van? Things going any better?
Gotta go. See ya—
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: June 20, 19__
RE:
It’s getting to the point where I’m embarrassed to admit I even know you, let alone roomed with you. Who the hell do you think you are, Spiderman? Yeah, I’m talking about your “little riot.” And let me tell you, if you’d pulled a stunt like that with me, I’d have shot you. I don’t blame Niehause for telling Ebershoff you were trying to get him killed.
All right, I take that back, but only because it sounds to me more like you were trying to get yourself killed. And Niehause’s got a right to bitch about a partner with a death wish—it looks bad on a guy’s record when his partner gets blown away. So quit being a hotdog and maybe Niehause’ll quit calling you one.
You’ve got a one-track mind, you know that?
There’s cold beer in my refrigerator and Van’s visiting her folks (I don’t know if that’s good or bad. We’re not fighting, anyway—but, of course, we’re not speaking) so you want to stop by tonight? I don’t know what time I’ll be home, but you know where the key is.
You’ve got a point about Sundays, but somebody’s got to do it.
Forget the steno pool, you’d never make it, with or without typing skills—you don’t have the legs for it. Better get used to it, pal, police work’s 50% typing, 49% boredom, and 1% having somebody shoot at you, and you can’t change the percentages—don’t even try. Nobody ever died from changing a typewriter ribbon.
See you tonight—
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 6-21
RE: Mind your own business
Bitch, bitch, bitch. I don’t know whose version you heard of The Red Dog Inn incident, but it wasn’t mine & there wasn’t any riot. You got a point about Niehause, though—if I bought it, he’d worry about the bloodstains on his uniform & the black mark on his record, not to mention all the paperwork he’d hafta do. Now, if I died neatly, on my own time, that’d be ok. He wants a new partner as bad as I do.
I notice your priorities are in order—1st comes the beer, then the wife. Is this a pesotifrBtefcX permanent visit?
I may have a 1-track mind, but it’s on the right track—can you say the same?
By the way, where were you last night? I had a couple beers, made myself a roast beef sandwich, watched some tv, & fell asleep. I woke up 2 hrs. later & you still weren’t home, so I split. Is this what being married to a cop is like? If so, remind me not to bother checking out how well those uniforms fit…
When’re you off this week? Maybe we can get together & I can tell you the truth about The Red Dog Inn. I already wrote one report on it & I’ll be damned if I’ll write another report just for you.
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: June 24, 19__
RE:
I’d love to hear your version of the riot—I’ve always liked fairy tales. Anyhow, the way you type I doubt I’d be able to read any report you wrote.
Got stuck here booking a couple guys we caught trying to break into a jewelry store. Which I guess is just as well, considering what a fun date you turned out to be—first you clean out my refrigerator, then you pass out on two beers, and then you have the nerve to complain about what it must be like being married to a cop.
About Huntley being tough: yeah, he is, but he’s a good guy, and he’s fair, and I haven’t had any problems.
You wouldn’t have believed what happened with the jewelry store break-in. I went after one guy, Huntley went after the other. Huntley caught his guy, but mine was some kind of Olympic track star, and I was having trouble catching him. The next thing I know, there’s Huntley running up with the other suspect handcuffed to him. He told the guy he was going to run with him, and if he didn’t keep up, he’d punch the shit out of him.
I have Wednesday and Thursday off, and Van’s not due home until late next Sunday. Give me a call.
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 6-28
RE: Nothing
I think I got Wed. night off—if I’m lucky—so maybe we can get together then.
You won’t believe what Lt. E cooked up for me. Niehause’s got a new partner, he’s happy as a fucking clam. Do I have a new partner? No, I’m walking a fucking beat 3 fucking blocks from the fucking station. You know how often there’s a crime committed there? Once about every million fucking years. And you know what the temperature’s been recently? 95 fucking degrees in the fucking shade at 10 fucking a.m. Lt. E’s trying to kill me. There’s only about 2 fucking foot beats in all of L.A., but I got 1. This sucks big time.
I gotta admit, that Huntley must really be something. From what you’ve said, he really lives up to his reputation. Woulda given alot to be working with Blaine, but of course there’s no way. But I’m telling you right now, Hutch, I’m gonna get outa this crummy priSeiXiXStS precinct & go someplace where I can do something really important—more fucking important than hanging around hoping to catch somebody stupid enough to jaywalk right in front of a cop in uniform.
Lt. E’s lookin’ at me like if I don’t get my ass outa here, he’s gonna be talkin’ to the Cpt. about me. Like I really need that. So I guess I better get outa here, see if I can get heat pcXfiSX stroke or sun-stroke today.
See ya tonight.
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: July 2, 19__
RE:
ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR MIND?!
I ask that because I’ve been hearing the strangest stories about you, and now I’ve found out they’re true: you’re giving out tickets for moving violations on foot? Is that right, or has everybody I’ve talked to got the story wrong? How the hell do you do that, anyway?
I’m waiting for your reply.
Hutch—
ps
Did you know you used the word fucking 9 times in your first paragraph?
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 7-2
RE: LAPD Torture Treatment
Look, I don’t know who you’ve been talking to (what, you & Huntley don’t really work, you just sit around the squadroom, gossiping about me? Jeeze, I didn’t know I was so fascinating. Lt. E sure as hell doesn’t think so) Where was I? Oh. I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but I’m not crazy, I’m just bored out of my mind.
I’ve been walking that same damned beat for day after day after day after day til I thought I was gonna lose my mind! Nothing happens—the closest thing to a criminal act I saw was when this poor 16 yr. old kid got a flat tire & was blocking traffic during rush hour& some bozo late for work started screaming obscenitys at her. I sent the bozo on his way & helped the girl change her tire & get on her way to school. And that was a big day.
Anyhow, I found that there was this one place at this one busy intersection that I could stand & see what color all the stoplights are at the same time. So I started standing there, waiting to catch somebody run a red light. And when somebody did, I’d just step out in front of ’em with my hand up & say, “Stop in the name of the law. You ran a red light. Show me your driver’s lisence & registration.”
Some’a the cars ain’t been stoppin’, though, just swerving around me, so I’ve started pitching my billy club at those that won’t. Hit most of ’em, too—I been tellin’ you leftie pitchers’re better’n righties any day’a the week.
Sgt. Fellers drove by, checking me out, making sure I was where I was supposed to be, & a couple cars behind him a guy ran a red light, so I did my thing & the guy stopped. I wrote out his ticket & the guy goes on his way, & the next thing I know there’s Sgt. F tapping me on the shoulder, asking me am I crazy or something? I said no, sir, I was just doing my job, sir, stopping traffic trxkfiaskxfisqc violators, sir. Now he’s looking at me like I’m king of the nutbars. I just stood there, smiling, like I’m having a great time, & after a couple minutes he just shakes his head & walks back to his car, but I heard him say something about talking to my Cpt.
Happy now? Why don’tcha try doing some work, catching some bad guys, insteada second-guessing me alla the time?
Oh, hey, “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” is showing at the rep theatre—you wanna go? When’s Van supposed to be back? I know you told me, but I can’t remember.
Get back to me.
S
For Official Departmental Use Only
[Typing runs off the bottom of the page.] And writing “fucking”‘s as close as I’ve been getting to doing it lately. What’s it like? Or do you remember?
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: July 4, 19__
RE:
Happy Fourth of July.
“Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” huh? It doesn’t sound like my kind of film, but I don’t have anything better to do.
I don’t know when Van’s going to be back—she was supposed to be home day before yesterday. I called her parents’ house, and talked to her father, who wouldn’t let me talk to her, wouldn’t tell me anything, and pretty much brushed me off. I’ve started wondering if she’s going to be back.
If you quit playing in the street, maybe Lt. Ebershoff will give you a grown-up job, like the rest of us have.
I’ll call you tonight and we can make plans.
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 7-4
RE: Happy Fucking Forth
Grown up job? You1re some swell person to be talking about grown up jobs. I heard you had a call the other day from some guy who said somebody’d tockotfcxjcxk&x vandalized his garden by carving obscenities in his zucchini. I know it makes me feel much safer, knowing you & Huntley’re out there making the world safe for vegetables. Jeeze, Hutch, is this what it’s come down to—me giving out traffic tickets & you looking for vegetable vandals? Why the fuck’d we become cops in the first place? And what’re you doin1 today? Parade patrol, right? Is Huntley training you or babysitting you?
“Invasion of the Body Snatchers” happens to be a classic. When’re you gonna learn a movie doesn’t have to be boring to be a classic?
I should be home before midnight, but I don’t know how much before. Traffic’s horrible on holidays.
Oh, happy 4th.
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: July 6, 19__
RE:
Shut up.
Sorry about the movie—I really wanted to go, but Luke and I were called in early in the afternoon, and we didn’t get off till nearly midnight. Have a good time with—I’ve forgotten her name—anyway, did you? I still can’t seem to get a hold of Van; now there’s an answering machine on at her parents’ house. I think I’ll be hearing soon, though, unless her parents are screening her messages; I left one last night saying this was the first time I’d ever known her to run from a fight. That should get her attention, anyway.
I have to admit, Luke seems to be steering us clear of anything particularly dangerous, which concerns me, but I think he’s sort of letting me get my bearings. So fuck off.
Call you tonight and we’ll try to get something together for the next day off we both have.
Oh, did you set off any fireworks for the Fourth?
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 7-7
RE:
The fireworks were more like firecrackers, not to mention kbxbkxxxx solitary, & I fell asleep in the middle. Talk about depressing.
Spent the 4th downtown/ directing traffic. At least I got to see the pyrotechnical show the city put on.
Listen, the next time we do get together, maybe we both better wear red carnations or something, so we’ll know each other. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I’m not sure I remember what you look like. Were you the blond guy in the wedding picture I saw in your living room?
Gotta go. Another day, another chance for heat prostration.
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: July 14, 19__
RE:
Pyrotechnical show? I’m impressed. You been reading “How to Increase Your Word Power” in Reader’s Digest again? And I think your spelling is improving.
Smartass. Yeah, the guy in the wedding picture’s me. I don’t know who the woman is.
I’m off next Tuesday. You want to come over Monday night for a pizza (not shrimp and chicken!) and the late show?
I heard you got yourself in some trouble on your foot beat—something to do with a city councilman. I’d hate to get the particulars wrong, or be accused of gossiping, so I’ll let you tell me all about it Tuesday.
I have to admit, you may be right about Luke. The calls we went on yesterday could have been handled by a Brownie troop. First we had a call from a lady who claimed someone had broken into her house. They didn’t steal anything, just turned her television upside down, and left. But when we got there, she wouldn’t let us come in the house. Luke tried to convince her that we had to see the scene of the crime, but she was adamant: she’d just waxed her floor and we were not coming in. Luke argued with her for a while, but finally it just didn’t seem to be worth the effort, so we left.
We skipped over I don’t know how many calls until finally Luke decided we should go on an attempted bank robbery. The perp had come in, pulled a gun, made everybody lie down on the floor. With nobody to get the money for him, he got so confused, he just left. I just don’t know, Starsk. This isn’t why I became a cop…
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 7-16
RE: Big deal!!
So I put my nightstick through Councilman Nytes’ back windshield—so what? I still say he shouldn’t’ve run that red light. And he wouldn’t stop when I ordered him to halt in the name in the law. Just ’cause he’s a councilman doesn’t mean he doesn’t have to obey the law just like everybody else. You’d think I’d tried to kill him or something, the way they’re turning this into some kind of federal offence. I’ve been pulled off active duty until Lt. E figures out which level of hell to send me to next. I hate my life.
Why don’t you buy me lunch, cheer me up, huh?
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: July 21, 19__
RE:
I finally heard from Van. Her exact words were, “You’ll hear from me when you hear from me. In the meantime you can darn your own socks.”
I have a brilliant idea for your new job after they kick you off the force. With the practice you’ve had recently dodging traffic, you could have a lucrative career as one of those scam artists who throw themselves in front of cars to try and con money out of the insurance companies. If that doesn’t appeal to you, I’ll try to come up with something equally stupid and dangerous for you to do with your time.
I don’t know about Huntley. At this rate I’m going to end up as a school crossing guard. You’ve got people fucking with your career because they don’t like you. And now I’m picking up your bad vocabulary habits. How could things get worse?
I’m not buying you anything; why don’t we have dinner at my place tomorrow night? I’ll cook. Bring white wine. Good white wine, not something cheap. Don’t go to the grocery, go to a liquor store and ask the man at the cash register. If it costs under two dollars, you’re being screwed—you have to spend at least three dollars and fifty cents. Got that?
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 7-22
RE:
I hate white wine. And knowing, if you’re talking white wine, you’re talking chicken with some kinda glop on it, which you know I hate. I’ll bring red, you’ll make spaghetti or a steak or something.
I’m glad you weren’t my career counselor in hs, you’re really weird. So far Lt. E’s still got me typing, typing & more typing.
People always talk about darning—what is darning, exactly? Do you know how to do it?
I do know how to buy wine, you know. I’m not stupid.
See you tonight.
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: July 22, 19__
RE:
You’re a hell of a dinner guest, you know—you’re not supposed to tell your host what to make. Now you can forget the chicken marinara—you’re getting salmon patties and milk. Dinner’s at seven o’clock. Don’t be late.
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 7-22
RE: CHOCOLATE MILK
Or better yet, why don’t we just order a pizza? You got beer? If not, you can stop at the grocery store, or the liquor store, or a drug store & get some. You’ll recognize it real easy—it says BEER on the can.
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: July 29, 19__
RE:
Did I mention that when someone invites you to dinner, you don’t take one look at what’s on the table, go over to the telephone, and call the nearest pizza delivery? It’s tacky. And for your information, I happen to be an excellent cook, a fact you will never discover because I am never inviting you for dinner again. You can die of scurvy on your diet of pizza and tacos and hamburgers for all I care.
Are you still playing chicken with the cars outside the precinct, or have you been reassigned for your own safety? And have they taken away all your sharpened pencils and given you scissors with rounded points?
No word yet on Vanessa. I’ll keep you informed.
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 8-8
RE:
I hate my life.
You will be happy to know that I have been reassigned; I now have the vitally important job of being the one to wait around the crime scene for the coroner to show up, & then I gotta wait around again for the meat wagon to pick ’em up. So you don’t have to worry about me becoming a corpse—I just keep company with them now… God, Hutch, this really really sucks. I don’t have a partner, I don’t have anybody to talk to, I spend all my day in the company of stiffs in various stages of decomposition. It couldn’t be more disgusting if I hadta work at the morgue—in fact, that’d be better, because at least there they keep ’em in drawers, & it’s cool. What could I have possibly have done to deserve this? Been a Nazi or something in a former life?
HELP ME!
Starsky—
P.S. And I won’t get scurvy ’cause I eat an orange every week.
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: August 15, 19__
RE:
What did you ever do to deserve this? I’ve been telling you for months that if you didn’t clean up your act the brass would find someplace to put you where you couldn’t cause any trouble, and now they have.
Jesus, Starsk, I have to agree with you, though—morgue detail’s the worst I ever heard of.
I had a talk with Luke, and he said that of course he wasn’t trying to keep me away from dangerous assignments, that he was just breaking me in slowly… I don’t know if I buy that, but I told him I was as broken in as I was ever going to be and I’d appreciate it if we could do some real police work now. Anyway, he agreed, so we’ll see how it goes.
I heard from Vanessa. She sent me a letter telling me she’ll be home sometime next week, and we can “talk things over then.” I don’t know exactly what that means, and I’m not too anxious to find out.
In the meantime, you want to get together for a beer after work sometime? Get back to me.
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 8-18
RE:
Sounds kinda ominous, that “talk things over then.” I don’t like the sound of it.
You think morgue detail sounds bad, you should see how it smells. Most’a these places aren’t air conditioned or anything, an’ some of the stiffs’ve been around for a while, an’ Hutch, there ain’t nothin’ worse than the smell of rotting flesh. I feel like I been transferred to a horror flick or something.
And the worst thing is that since I’m not there to do any real investigating, or looking for evidence, everybody treats me like a stick of furniture. The friendliest thing I got was, “You must be Starsky,” like I was some big joke. I don’t like this at all.
Don’t worry about wakin’ me up the other night—I had to get up anyway to go to bed.
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: August 26, 19__
RE:
What is going on? I picked up the newspaper this morning and there was a really terrible picture of you—it looks like your high school graduation photo, badly reproduced—and a story about how you saved the life of a sixteen-year-old girl. The details were a little sketchy, but I distinctly recall the words “heroic action” and “quick thinking” being used. I never doubted you’d go for the heroic stuff, but that “quick thinking” really surprised me. Now, are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to get a copy of the official report?
I’ll be home tonight; come on over for dinner.
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 8-29
RE:
I’ll give you all the details at dinner, but here’s the quickie version:
A drug deal went bad, the buyer didn’t have the $, & into the middle of that walked his wife, their three kids, her 16 yr. old sister & her kid. One of the pushers shot ’em all—including his own 2 partners—we figure he musta panicked.
I don’t know what kind of investigation they were running, but when they got through the report said that the victims were 2 18 yr. old male Cauc’s (2 of the pushers), 1 19 yr. old male Cauc (the buyer), 1 18 yr. old female Cauc (his wife), 1 3 yr. old female Cauc, 1 2 yr. old male Cauc, 1 8 mo. old male Cauc (the buyer & his wife’s kids) & 1 6 mo. old female Cauc (the sister’s daughter).
And where was the sister? Well, she got shot & managed to crawl behind a sofa, & not one of the cops on the scene managed to look back there & find her. It wasn’t til after they’d all left that I heard her breathing (it was pretty loud; a bullet had nicked her lung & she was breathing out blood), so I moved the sofa & there she was. Anyway, now there’s gonna be a big investigation & I’m hero-of-the-week.
And I tried to call you—I mean, I did call you, only you haven’t been home, have you? Working, probably. Hell, I’d go home to my parents too if all I had to show for your presence was some dirty laundry & a mold-filled refrigerator (yeah, I stopped by, too). I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Van’s crazy.
Anyhow, let’s make a real night of it—bowling, pizza, & a horror flick, ok? I got stuff to celebrate & there’s no reason you shouldn’t have some fun too.
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: September 4, 19__
RE:
Someday I’m going to teach you the true meaning of “make a real night of it.*
Okay, I’ll admit I had a good time, but there are other ways of celebrating, like a good French restaurant and the theatre.
I haven’t heard anything more about your heroics—what’s going on? You know, I’m really proud of you.
I got a letter today from a lawyer—Vanessa’s lawyer. I believe he’s a junior partner in her father’s firm. I’m to cease and desist from harassing her. Nothing about a separation or divorce, though, so I still don’t know what’s going on.
Got to go. I’ll get back to you later.
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: H
From: S
Date: 9-7
RE: FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!
Well, here’s the deal: Cpt. Howard is so pissed, what with the press all down on the cops investigating the case & so up on me, that I think he’d like to shoot me. Instead he called me into his office & made me a deal—a transfer to any other dept., any other precinct, he’d grease the wheels personally, if I’ll just keep my mouth shut & not give any interviews to any of the reporters, or, God forbid, set it up so he has to have his picture taken with me. Normally I don’t accept bribes, but what the hell, he hates me, I hate this outhouse I’m working in, so I agreed. I’m starting in homicide next Tuesday.
(By the way, you, me, Cpt. H & Johnny Blaine are the only ones that know about this deal, so don’t spread it around. Johnny said I should grab it & run).
I met Cpt. Dobey, & he seems ok—told me it looked like I was a quick thinker (see?) & that if I settle down, I’ll be a good cop.
Now all we gotta do is get you transferred to homicide too, & we’ll be all set.
Starsky—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
Los Angeles Police Department
“To Protect and Serve”
Inter-Departmental Memo
To: D. M. Starsky
From: K. Hutchinson
Date: September 11, 19__
RE:
I agree with John, you made the right move, you’ll do great in homicide. I talked with Luke about a transfer, but he seemed dubious. I think I need to get out from under his protective wing if I’m ever going to make anything of myself. I think I’ll be talking to Captain Dobey myself about a transfer.
Hutch—
For Official Departmental Use Only
***
EPILOGUE
Hutch set the papers aside as Starsky came into the room. Regarding his partner fondly, he said, “You know, you were a real bozo when I first met you.”
Starsky’s look was quizzical. “Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”
“A compliment.”
“Hmm. And I suppose you feel you can take credit for whatever improvement you feel there’s been in my character.”
“Well, I think it’s fair to say I had something to do with it.”
“That’s what I thought; you were insulting me and complimenting yourself. How come this stuff isn’t all packed up?”
“I got busy,” Hutch defended himself.
“Oh, yeah? Doing what?” Starsky sat down on the floor next to his partner, carefully, as he now made all such moves.
“Reading.” Hutch handed him the memos. “I can’t believe you kept these, let alone made carbons of the ones you sent me.”
Starsky glanced them over, flipping through the pages. “Had to; sometimes it was so long between writing what I wrote and reading what you wrote I wouldn’t have been able to remember what we were talking about.”
“You always did have a short attention span.”
“You’re insulting me again.”
“You’re getting awfully touchy, you know that?”
“Hmm. I didn’t even know I still had these.”
“You’re a pack rat.”
“Yeah, well, at least I’m a neat pack rat, which is more than anybody can say about you; we had to clean up your place before we could pack it up.”
“Now who’s insulting who?”
“You started it. And once we get into our place I hope you’re going to be a little neater.”
“Maybe a little,” Hutch conceded.
“Put your toys away when you’re through with them…”
“My toys? You’re the one who’s been driving a toy car all these years…”
“You’ve always been jealous of my car, I know that.”
“You may have cleaned up your act, but you’re still certifiable; you just hide it better.”
“You know, I was just thinking this morning how much I’d improved you over the years, made you less of a stick-in-the-mud…”
“What!?”
“Loosened you up, made you more fun to be around…”
“Certifiable. I don’t know how they missed your obvious insanity all that time you were in the hospital.”
“They could see that I was okay, but I noticed a lotta people lookin’ at you kinda funny…”
“Probably wondering what someone of my obvious taste and intelligence was doing hanging around with a dirtball like you.”
Starsky grinned, leaned over, kissed his partner’s mouth. “Yeah, sure.”
Have any thoughts?
Share your reaction or leave a quick response — we’d love to hear what you think!
-
2
-
0
-
0
-
0
-
0
