While Hutch is still recovering from the effects of the plague, Starsky sets out to fulfill a promise. Will the risks he must take to honor his word be worth it, or will they lead to devastating results?
Originally published in the zine Venice Place Press Presents Stories by Sue David, an S&H Gen Zine, published in 2012.
Usually, Detective David Starsky would answer his desk phone with a more professional greeting than, “Hey, you, what are you doing awake?” However, he knew that was the appropriate greeting in this ease.
“Wouldn’t ‘Hello’ or maybe, ‘Homicide, Detective Starsky’ be a more traditional way to answer the phone?”
Starsky laughed. “For everyone but a man who should be checking the insides of his eyelids for cracks, yes.”
“What if it hadn’t been me?”
“I knew it was you.”
“How?”
“Sounded like your ring.”
“Starsky, that’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve heard you say in a quite a while.”
Dave Starsky smiled and closed his eyes briefly. And I‘m glad you ‘re alive to hear it and razz me about it. “What good is a man to his ailing partner if he can’t at least provide some entertainment value?”
“Ailing? Who’s ailing? I’m on the mend, buddy. You staying out of trouble?”
Ken Hutchinson had been released from the hospital after nearly succumbing to a plague that had been kept mostly quiet outside the confines of Bay City. After days of running ragged trying to find the one man who represented the cure and then sitting vigil to see if his friend would pull through, Starsky had slept the clock around while his worried captain and friends kept an eye on both him, and on Hutch’s progress. When he finally woke, it was to the best result he could have hoped for—Hutch was still responding to treatment and with luck and prayer would be released to home care by the end of the week. That had been the happiest news Starsky had received in a long time.
Hutch had promised his partner that he would rest and not do anything to over exert himself while Starsky went to the station to tie up some loose ends and sign off on some reports. Starsky looked at his watch in disbelief at how much time had passed since he left Hutch covered with a quilt on the couch with a book and the newspaper to help him pass any “awake” time he had until Starsky returned.
If he lived to be as old as the people Hutch had told him about in Azerbaijan, he would be unlikely to forget the cautions the doctors had thrown at him when they semi-reluctantly released Hutch to his care. Although the man was rallying, he was still at risk for myriad potential setbacks and relapses. Starsky was admonished with a daunting list of things to watch for and instructions to follow to assure Hutch’s continued recovery away from the watchful eyes of the physicians from Disease Control. They did not like the risk, but they recognized that both detectives needed to circle the wagons of their friendship and extended family to get through what lay ahead. Once he was declared no longer contagious, Hutch made it clear that he was going over the wall as soon as he had his legs under him again even if they didn’t release him. Starsky knew how much he needed the comfort of being in his own place, surrounded by his plants and his things. That and Starsky’s care were what would see him through the rest of this crisis.
“Hey,” Hutch said. “You still awake over there?” Starsky had been silent and lost in his own thoughts longer than he realized.
“Yep.” He felt the need to redirect the conversation. “Are you okay?”
“Just tired, and you didn’t answer my question.”
“The one about staying out of trouble?” Starsky asked without expecting a response. “When have you ever known me to stay out of trouble?”
“That’s what,” Hutch started, but he had to stop to cough. After a few moments of that he added, “worries me.”
That’s what worries him? “What’s that about?”
“I guess it’s just time for some more cough medicine. I thought we were talking about you.”
Starsky knew Hutch hated being the focus of attention and he particularly hated being on the bench from illness or injury. His friend was a fantastic caretaker when Starsky was in need, but he was neither a good nor a compliant patient all of the time when it was his turn. He had a tendency to venture out before he should or to go too far or stretch his abilities too soon and that was most likely to happen if he was worried about his partner for some reason. Starsky knew he’d better nip this one in the bud quickly.
“Listen up, Blondie. I’m fine. You, however, are only halfway to fine. Be a good boy and rest. I’ll be back soon.”
“I’m too worried to rest.”
“You know something I don’t?” Starsky asked.
“No, I guess I just don’t like you being on the job without me watching out for you.”
Starsky laughed. “Buddy, I’m only barely on the job. Riding a desk. The worst thing that can happen to me here is I might suffer a life-threatening paper cut, or fall out from a massive overdose of bad stationhouse coffee.”
Hutch snickered. “Okay, okay. Just don’t go off without backup if you decide to do something besides being a desk jockey. Is Rawlins in the house today?”
Steve Rawlins was a coworker who had recently lost his partner. Fred Thompson and his brother had been out running errands when they were t-boned at high speed and both were killed. The fact that Fred did not die in the line of duty was a mixed blessing. Going out being hit by a careless red-light runner was an ignoble fate for a decorated officer, but it did mean that his partner was allowed back at work much sooner than he would have been otherwise. Working would at least allow the grieving detective to focus on something other than his loss. Captain Dobey had been giving Rawlins some time to adjust and get past some of that grief before assigning him a new partner. He was a good cop, but he had only been a detective for a year and he needed the steadying influence of a more seasoned partner, which could take some time to arrange.
“He’s helping interview some witnesses downstairs. If I have to go anywhere, I’m sure Dobey’ll let him ride shotgun for you.”
“Good. Promise?”
“I promise, partner. Now take some cough medicine and sleep ’til I bring dinner. What do you want?”
“I’m not very hungry, Starsk.”
“Uh-huh, but you are very skinny. I promised Judith I’d get some weight back on you.” Starsky could hear the weary sigh through the phone.
“Okay. You’ll have to surprise me. If you wait for me to think up something to eat, we’ll both be signing our retirement papers before it happens.”
“Roger that. Zebra Three out,” Starsky replied. He could hear Hutch laughing as he hung up the phone.
Starsky returned to his paperwork. The least he could do was to get their expense reports in and sign off on some files so Hutch didn’t have mounds of paperwork waiting for him when he returned to work. Both detectives preferred being out prowling their beat, or on an undercover assignment to working through paperwork. A surprising amount of a cop’s time was spent on the latter. At least no one was shooting at them when they were sitting at their desks. As he continued to work through the stack of papers and reports, Starsky’s thoughts kept drifting back to the events that had led them to where they were now.
Two weeks earlier
“What do you mean, you’re not sure?”
“Would it help if I said I was cautiously optimistic?”
“Not much,” Starsky said. “When will you know?”
“Soon, I hope. I just can’t say he’s turned the comer yet. He’s not losing ground anymore, which is why I’m cautiously optimistic, but he hasn’t made any urine for a while. We’re working on that.”
The doctors from Disease Control had successfully created the serum to immunize people against the plague, and they had given Hutch the doses he needed to bring him back from the brink, but so far, he had not gotten better. As the hours ticked by and Starsky restlessly alternated from sitting by Hutch’s side to pacing, he had become increasingly tense.
Dr. Judith Kaufman put a hand on Starsky’s aim and said, “Things like this are only somewhat predictable. He came so close to death, all we can do is pray that the cure came in time. The fact that his temperature is not climbing and his white cell count has stayed the same is probably good. I just don’t want to give you false hope.”
Starsky dropped his chin and shook his head. “That’s what you said last night,” he said dejectedly.
“Hang in there. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”
“No. I’m not leaving ’til I know he’s gaining ground.”
All attempts to get Starsky to go home for some sleep had failed. When Captain Dobey tried making it an order, Starsky made an impolite and impolitic suggestion as to what he could do with his order in reply.
“When can 1 ditch the mask and gloves?” Starsky asked.
“The immunization we gave you won’t be fully effective for two weeks after we administered it. God willing, Hutch will be fever free long before then.”
At least the medical staff had stopped trying to prevent him from being near Hutch. He was thankful for that.
“You really do look exhausted. Your dark circles have dark circles. Will you at least go crash on the couch in the lounge for a while?”
Starsky didn’t want to admit that he was as tired as he was. Huggy had at least kept him fed, but he couldn’t do anything for the exhaustion. He looked through the glass at Hutch, still laboring to breathe under the oxygen tent. The need to be with him now that all the excitement was over and he could give himself permission to stop running was undeniable.
“What if I still lose him? I’d never forgive myself if he died without me there because I was sleeping.”
“I’m watching him every minute that I can and we have a nurse in there all the time. We’ll come and get you if he gets worse. Okay?”
Hutch had only been really conscious for long enough in the past twenty-four hours to get agitated over the fact that Starsky was there. He was mostly incoherent and delirious, which did nothing to quell Starsky’s fears. He would never forget the look of panic in Hutch’s glassy eyes as he pushed against his arm weakly and begged him to leave.
“No, no. Get out of here, please,” Hutch mumbled.
“It’s okay, boy. Shhhh,” Starsky tried to soothe.
Hutch shook his head and between raspy breaths said, “Don’t want you here.”
“Don’t worry. Just sleep.”
Starsky had pinned his restless arm to the bed and held his hand.
“I’m okay. Sleep.”
One of the nurses was on the other side of the bed shaking her head at the unchanged and dangerously high number on the thermometer.
“Maybe you should leave,” she said. “He’s out of his head, but he did ask you to go.”
Starsky looked at her and shook his head. “It’s not that he doesn’t want me here. He’s afraid I’ll catch it from him and die.”
Hutch looked at the nurse with pleading eyes and nodded his agreement with what his partner had just said. Starsky was a little encouraged that at least Hutch was coherent enough to understand what he had said. Maybe that was a good sign.
“I’m not going anywhere, partner. You sleep. I know you don’t completely understand me, but I can’t get it from you. It’s gonna be okay, now. Shhhhh. It’s me and thee time, buddy. Trust me.”
Hutch nodded and squeezed his hand right before he dropped back into a restless sleep.
The nurse looked at him and said, “How did you know that’s what he meant?”
“He’s my partner.”
“Okay if you promise you’ll come and get me if anything changes.”
“I swear. Come on, I’ll show you where to go.” Judith led him down the hallway to a doctors’ lounge with a couch. “I’ll call Captain Dobey and let him know where you are. Sleep. If you don’t—”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll try.”
Starsky had done much more than just try. He kicked off his shoes and was asleep before Judith left the room to ask someone to bring him a blanket.
Throughout the next day, Starsky slept without noticing when people came and went. The doctors on duty all knew who he was and other than checking on him now and then to make sure he was all right, no one bothered him. Almost twenty-four hours had passed when Huggy came to get Starsky up with the good news that Hutch was awake and Dr. Kaufman had said they could all begin to relax. He found his friend sitting up and tying his shoes when he got to the lounge.
When the door opened, Starsky saw Huggy and immediately demanded, “Is he okay?”
Huggy smiled at him. “He’s great. The lady doc says he’s doing much better.”
Starsky sighed and said, “Oh, thank God.” He knew when he’d looked at his watch that he probably had slept for a day and he couldn’t believe it. “Why’d you let me sleep so long?”
Huggy laughed. “Dobey came in here and looked in on you and I did, too. You’ve had doctors in and out of here and you never budged. You needed the sleep, man.”
“Guess that’s what happens when you don’t sleep for a few days.”
“Guess so.”
Huggy handed him a gym bag and said, “Clean clothes and stuff for a shower.” He pointed at a door and said, “Locker room’s in there.”
“I want to see him first.”
“He’s fine. They let Dobey go in and sit with him. Sleeping ain’t the only thing you’ve had no time for in the past few days. Clean up. Blondie will appreciate it.”
The relaxed look on Huggy’s face convinced him everything was okay, so he’d agreed. By the time he was done and walking into Hutch’s room, he was relieved to see they had gotten rid of the oxygen tent in favor of a mask.
Judith looked up when he entered. She had just finished making some notations in Hutch’s chart. “Welcome back,” she said with a smile on her face. “See, my cautious optimism was well founded.”
“Looks like it. How is he?”
“Better. Much better. He started to improve about four hours after you went to sleep. Temp has dropped by two degrees and his white cell count is better. He started making urine again. He’s definitely responding.”
“Thank God. Where’s Dobey? Huggy said he was in here.”
“He left to go deal with some arrangements for Thomas Callendar.”
“He’s gonna make it?”
“Yes.”
Although he had survived surgery, the doctors were not sure Callendar would live at first. Starsky never expected he could be grateful to an international hit man. Life was full of unexpected turns. He had promised to help Callendar get out of the country and he intended to keep that promise.
“How about Richie? Did he make it?”
“He started to improve before Hutch did. He’s going to be just fine.”
“I’m glad. Has anybody told Callendar?”
“Your captain has him under heavy guard. In fact, the only two people allowed in to see him without a police escort are you and Richie’s mother. He knows.”
That caused Starsky to have a new worry. “What about Richie and Mrs. Yager? Has anyone thought to put guards on them?”
“Yes, they’re under constant guard. Try not to worry and go sit with him.”
Hutch’s eyes were closed, but when Starsky touched his hand, he opened them. They still looked feverish and intense, but his breathing was a lot better.
“Hey,” Starsky said. “Hey. You okay?”
“Funny question for you to ask. I’m fine.”
Starsky pulled a chair closer and sat down next to the bed. “Can I get you anything?”
Hutch reached up to try to pull off the mask, which Starsky wouldn’t let him do. “Uh-uh, buddy. I know it’s uncomfortable, but leave it alone.”
“Okay.”
Dr. Kaufman brought some water and a cloth to Starsky and handed them to him. “This seems to help. I have to do the rest of my rounds. If you keep it up with the cool compresses, his fever might come down some more.”
Starsky nodded and got to work. Hutch drifted in and out of sleep while Starsky tried to soothe him.
When he was more awake, Hutch asked, “Guess you got Callendar, huh?”
“Guess so. You look a lot better. Does this help?”
“Feels good. Thanks. Did you sleep?”
“Only for about a day.” Starsky chuckled at that. Although Hutch often marveled at his partner’s ability to grab a few minutes of sleep anywhere in any setting when he needed it, Starsky was never one to sleep overly long or overly late. He still couldn’t believe he’d done it.
“A whole day?”
“Yep. You’ve been here a long time, buddy. You had me pretty scared.”
“Me, too. You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine. I guess you don’t remember telling me to get out of here do you.”
“No. Sorry.”
“No sweat. You didn’t want me to catch it. I knew that. I’m just glad you’re getting better.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Not likely. How about if you worry about you and let me take care of everything else?”
“Okay,” Hutch said. His voice was weak, but he was relaxing and responding to Starsky’s touch. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“From you, dummy. Remember when I had pneumonia?”
“It wasn’t pneumonia. Just bronchitis.”
Starsky smiled at him. If he was with it enough to remember one of their favorite arguments, he really was coming back to him. That made everything he’d gone through to save his friend worth it.
He continued to sit at Hutch’s side for another day before he finally relented and went home for a night of sleep in his own bed.
Present Day
He had been working on paperwork and lost in his thoughts for some time when Captain Dobey called him into his office.
“Looks like the time has come to pay the piper,” Dobey said.
Starsky knew what he meant. “So, they’re cutting Callendar loose, huh?”
“Late this afternoon. He has contacts in Argentina and that’s where he plans to go from here.”
“Okay. What time do I pick him up?” Starsky asked.
“Not so fast. This needs to be carefully planned and we don’t have much time. You don’t really think I’m going to let you do this alone, do you?”
“I gave him my word, Cap.”
“I understand that, and I’m not saying that you shouldn’t keep it, Starsky. I just want it done carefully.”
“I’m always careful.”
“And it’s my job to see that you keep being careful.”
A few retorts came to Starsky’s mind, but he bit them back because he had to admit to himself that the captain was right.
“Take Rawlins with you.”
“You sound like my partner.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Take Rawlins. Oh, and check out a plain UC from the motor pool. Driving that subtle machine of yours to the airport would be dumb.”
Starsky snorted. “Now you really sound like my partner. Okay, Cap. Boring unmarked vehicle it is.”
“Unobtrusive, Starsky. Not boring.”
“Same, same. Look, Cap… I’m gonna go round up Rawlins, check out our chariot, and get this done. If I call Hutch to clue him in, he’ll go straight up and to the left. He doesn’t need to do that. Run interference for me, huh?”
“You want me to lie?”
“‘Course not. I want you to stall. Talk in circles. You know, pretend you’re a bureaucrat.”
Dobey glared at him for a moment. Then, a sly half-smile crept onto his face. “Get out of here and do your thing. I’ll handle things here.”
Starsky nodded his thanks and left, closing the door behind him.
***
“Well, where did he go?” Hutch asked.
“I don’t know, Hutch,” Detective Sanderson said truthfully. “He was already gone when I came on shift. I think he’d been gone about thirty minutes by then.”
“Is Cap in?”
“He was, but I think he went over to the courthouse. I could leave him a message.”
“No,” Hutch said. “I’ll call later.”
Hutch hung up, leaving his hand resting on the receiver for a few moments as the gears in his head turned. He had called twice for Starsky in the past two hours. After he woke up from a two-hour nap, he was told his partner had gone down to interrogation and he should be back in a while. Now, “in a while” was morphing into “where the hell is my partner?” Hutch picked the phone back up and dialed again.
“Chez Bear, proprietor speaking,” came Huggy’s warm voice through the line.
“Hey, Hug, it’s me.”
“Well, well, the blond centurion awakes. And how do you be this fine afternoon?”
“Lazy and sleepy is how. Have you heard from Starsky?”
“Funny you should ask. Yeah, he called me a couple of hours ago and asked me to bring dinner over around six o’clock. Said he had somethin’ to do and he knew I was planning to stop over anyhow so he’d just meet me at your place.”
“Well, did he say what?”
“Negative, bro’. No what, just that.”
Hutch pondered that for a moment. “Thanks, Hug. Tell him to call me if you hear from him.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just a little worried about him. I called to ask him to stop and pick up a prescription Judith called in for me for come cough medicine that won’t make me feel like a zombie. That was a couple of hours ago.”
“I’m sure he’s fine and I’m also sure he’d rather you were resting than worrying.”
Hutch hated to sound like an old woman, but he had a feeling something wasn’t right. Starsky wasn’t the only one who was prone to an inexplicable tingly feeling when his partner was in some kind of trouble.
“He promised to take one of the other guys for backup if he went anywhere. I’m sure you’re right. See you at six.”
“Later,” Huggy replied.
Hutch threw the quilt off and stood up to go get something to drink. He wasn’t hungry in the least, but he knew he needed to force fluids and he had finished everything Starsky left out for him. By the time he went a few steps, little spots were dancing in front of his eyes and he was dizzy enough to need to grab one of the chairs at his table to keep from falling. He held onto it with his eyes squeezed shut while the disturbing sense of vertigo dissipated and his vision cleared.
“That was smart,” he chastised himself. “No standing up too fast for a while.”
Once he felt better, he continued to the kitchen on wobbly legs. Although he knew he really needed to take it easy for the next week, he was also frustrated by how weak and wrung out he felt all of the time. He made a mental note to talk to Starsky about getting some walks in and working on getting his stamina back as quickly as he could.
***
Starsky was aware that this would be the first time Steve Rawlins had been on a call with any type of danger in the two months since his partner died. He and Hutch had known Fred since their days in uniform. Although he was an excellent detective, he had a reputation that even surpassed Starsky’s for being hot tempered. Rawlins was the first partner he had been assigned that clicked with him. They had been a good team.
“Zebra Three to control,” Starsky called into the mic before he fired up the engine.
“Go ahead, Zebra Three.”
“Log me and Rawlins out on assignment and unavailable for response.”
“Roger that, Zebra Three.”
Rawlins shifted in his seat and looked out the passenger window.
“Sorry about that,” Starsky said. “1 guess I just assumed we’d use my call sign since I’m primary.”
“No sweat,” Rawlins replied. Though he seemed mostly unreadable to Starsky, no one who looked at him could mistake the sad, hollow look on his face.
Starsky pulled out into traffic in the nondescript brown LTD he had checked out from the motor pool. The car was definitely dull, but it was new and he was glad it had a powerful engine in case he needed to push the horses.
“Thanks for coming along, man. I know Hutch would appreciate it.”
“Happy to, Starsky,” came the reply. “At least this little errand unshackled me from Dobey’s desk prison for a few hours.”
Starsky winced at that remark. He could certainly understand why the man was starting to feel like he was serving out a sentence and that he was innocent of any crime.
“He’s just trying to be careful. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know. I got my clearance from psych a few days ago. Cap says he has some feelers out on a guy who wants to transfer up from San Diego. Says he’ll know something in the next few days.”
Starsky nodded. “Good. You been to the range yet?”
“Uh-huh. Re-certified yesterday.”
“That’s great, Steve. You’ll be off the desk soon.” Starsky paused for a few moments as they rode in silence. Then he said, “Fred was a good cop. Smart.”
Steve turned and looked at him. “You don’t gotta talk about him, Starsky. It’s okay.”
“Huh?”
“It’s just that nobody seems to want to. To be honest, nobody much wants to talk to me about anything.”
“Guess they just feel uncomfortable. It’s hard to know what to say.”
Rawlins swallowed hard. “Guess so. Anyway, I’m the one who should thank you for getting me out for a little action.”
“Yeah, well let’s hope there’s very little of that. This may look like a quick and easy assignment, but we both need to be on the alert. Callendar’s got a lot of enemies. The only thing he’s got going for him is that nobody knows if Roper bought it or not. Seems like that’s the best kept secret since who really shot JFK.”
“Who placed the order?”
“No idea. The only guy left alive who knows is Callendar and he ain’t talking.”
Starsky took a right turn and Rawlins asked, “Aren’t we going to County?”
“Nope. Cap had Callendar moved to St. Teresa’s for Women a few days ago after the DC docs cleared him. He figured he had a better chance of staying alive that way.”
“Smart move. So, you buy all that conspiracy talk about Oswald?”
Starsky wasn’t thrown by the sudden change of subject. He frequently did that himself, to his partner’s eternal frustration. “Oh, I think he was the shooter. I just think he was probably a patsy.”
“Oh. Maybe. I think it’s hard to believe the guy could have fired off all those shots that close together and hit his moving target from where they say he was.”
Starsky internalized that for a short while. He knew what a sniper could do from personal experience. However, that was a subject he was not going to discuss, so he decided to turn the conversation on a dime again.
“I guess you know Fred went through several partners before Dobey teamed you up with him, right?”
The change in conversation track did not seem to throw Rawlins. “I knew. Fred had a short fuse. I’m sure you knew that.” Rawlins had a wry smile on his face.
“Sure did,” Starsky replied. “Didn’t take a whole lot to piss him off. He was worse than me.” Starsky looked in his rearview mirror again and decided to take another turn, heading them in a direction that would not get them to St. Teresa’s.”
“What’s up?” Rawlins asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Hopefully nothing. I just thought we might have some company behind us. Thought I’d check out my theory.” He was glad his passenger was armed and recently qualified with his gun, just in case.
“Well?”
“Nothin’ yet. It’s a black Lincoln Continental with dark windows. I’m gonna pull in over there at Dino’s and wait a few minutes.”
Starsky nosed the car into a parking space at the drive-thru breakfast place. They closed at noon, so he was fairly confident they wouldn’t be putting anyone in any danger other than themselves and whoever might be tailing them.
Within two or three minutes the Lincoln wheeled into the lot and parked several spaces away. By that time both detectives had pulled their guns and tucked them into their waistbands. Starsky did not want to call too much attention their way by calling for reinforcements. This could possibly be nothing. The car wasn’t blocking them and the driver seemed to be the only one in it.
“Stay here and be ready to call the cavalry if we need ’em,” he told Rawlins.
“You’re not getting out of this car by yourself, Starsky.”
“Relax. I have a feeling it’s okay, just trust me. Oh, and keep a sharp eye. Fred may’ve been a hothead, but you ain’t ready for it if you have to tell my partner you let me get bruised.”
Rawlins pulled his gun out of his waistband, chambered a round, and rested his gun hand in his lap. Starsky got out and warily walked toward the Lincoln. He was relieved to see that the driver had both hands on the steering wheel. The man looked nervous under Starsky’s intimidating gaze. When he got close enough, Starsky showed his badge and signaled for the man to roll down his window.
“Detective David Starsky. Metro. Suppose you tell me why you were tailing me,” he said, getting right to the point.
The terrified looking young man stammered, “Uh, I, um, well—I was kind of wondering where you’d go.”
That wasn’t a good answer. “Get out of the car slowly and keep your hands where I can see them,” Starsky ordered.
“Yes, sir,” the young man replied.
“Now put your hands on the hood. You got anyone else with you?”
“No, sir.”
“Got anything in your pockets I should know about?”
“Just a lighter and my wallet.”
“Name?”
“Danny Clarkson.”
Starsky frisked him and found nothing concerning. He looked at the license he found in Clarkson’s wallet, and then signaled Rawlins to come join him. Rawlins stood back a few paces, watching.
“You could have just driven past here. Why didn’t you?”
“I figured you’d just pull out and follow me, so I might as well talk to you and get it over with.”
Starsky pointed to the ground. “Sit. Then you’re gonna tell me what you know and what you think you’re doing tailing a couple of cops.”
Clarkson obeyed. “Don’t know what you mean by what I know, Officer. I’m just an intern on an assignment. I’m a senior at UCBC.”
“Intern?”
“Yeah, I’m a production assistant for Harry Wahlberg. You know, the guy that makes those cop flicks.”
“This car belong to him?” Starsky asked.
“Yes. He let me drive it for my assignment. My car’s a pile and it doesn’t always run.”
Starsky turned to Rawlins. “Run the plate. Let’s see if Clarkson here is telling the truth. Okay, Clarkson. How’d you know this was a cop car?”
“Please.” The young man gave a derisive sniff. “You don’t exactly look like the kind of guy who’d drive a boring car like that. Besides, I was waiting on the street outside police headquarters for somebody to pull out in an unmarked car.”
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing. What the hell for?”
“W-well, Mr. Wahlberg’s making a movie about inner city undercover cops. He wanted me to follow some and take notes.”
“That’s about the stupidest thing I’ve heard all day. He’s supposed to go through the information officer for that. He knows that.”
“I know. I tried to tell him, but he yelled at me and threatened to cut me loose. I need this internship to graduate, man. I just do what I’m told.”
“Of all the idiotic… you could have gotten yourself shot that way.” Starsky turned toward the car when he heard Rawlins call his name.
“He’s legit. Car belongs to Wahlberg.”
Starsky put his hand out to help the frightened young man up to his feet. “Okay. You listen up good. Go back to the studio and tell your boss to call the information officer at Metro and file an official request. Tell him if he does anything like this again, he’s going to be looking at jail time for any number of charges.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you,” Clarkson said, hanging his head and turning to get back into the car.
Starsky shook his head and walked away, but then something occurred to him. Even though it was a stupid stunt, the kid was only twenty-one years old and he was obviously completely clueless about the seriousness of what he had tried to do. He couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him so he walked back to the car and handed Danny Clarkson his business card through the still open window.
“You also tell him that if he fires you, I’m going to press charges anyway and it will be him in the fire. You’ll get immunity for squealing on him. I’ll see to that. If anything happens, call me.”
Danny Clarkson smiled and accepted the card. He now looked as relieved as Starsky felt that this was an unfortunate misunderstanding.
“Thanks, Detective Starsky. Oh, and thanks for not blowing a gasket.”
Starsky laughed at that. “Don’t mention it.”
***
“I said no,” Roper ground out, impatient with the man who was trying to convince him of something he was not about to agree to do.
“Okay, boss. I just think it would be easier to hit all of them than to try to single Callendar out.”
Roper sat up in bed, red-faced. He was in a safe house; attended only by his private physician and surrounded by men who would keep the secret that he had survived the shooting. Even his wife and children did not know for certain. He took a deep breath to dissipate his anger. That particular emotion was doing nothing to help him heal.
“He may be a little crazy, but that cop has some brass ones. He came to me alone asking for help to save his partner. The crazy bastard wanted me to be a target to do it.” Just the thought of that made him laugh, wincing and holding his side until the pain it caused passed.
“In a twisted kind of way, Detective Starsky saved my life.” Roper exasperatedly waved off the beginnings of protest from his hit man.
“Enough. This conversation is finished. They’re cutting Callendar loose this afternoon. That cop isn’t the kind that would back out on a promise. He’ll be there to pick Callendar up and take him to the airport. You find them and you waste Callendar. Do anything to permanently harm Detective Starsky and you’re dead. It’s just that simple.”
The big man being given that charge shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “Can I bend him a little? Might not be possible to get Callendar without hurting Starsky at all.”
Roper sighed. If being shot had done nothing else for him, he had been given a new perspective on some things. What he was really interested in was finishing Callendar. He knew the man had survived. When he had recovered enough to think clearly, he had put the wheels in motion to take Callendar out at County, but they had moved him somewhere before his operative could get to him. He hadn’t been successful sniffing out where Callendar had been taken, despite the amount of money he’d spent with some less than squeaky-clean cops. The tipoff had come just that afternoon from a mole he had at Metro. One Detective David Starsky had checked out a brown unmarked car from the motor pool, leaving his flashy red Torino at the station. That had to be it.
“Knock him out, tie him up, do whatever you need to short of really hurting him. I mean it. Starsky has immunity. You got that?”
The man nodded. “Yes, sir, boss.”
Roper watched as his man left the room. His right-hand man turned to face him and said, “Boss, you know he really didn’t save your life.”
“Bullshit,” Roper spat at him. “Starsky orchestrated everything that led up to us finding that piece of shit hit man. You don’t have to understand it. You don’t have to like it, but that’s the way it is. For me, this is a matter of honor. Someday, we may need to call in for a favor. Starsky won’t forget that I wouldn’t help, but he also won’t forget I didn’t allow him to get wasted in the aftermath.”
***
No matter how much reading or resting he tried to do, nothing seemed to take away Hutch’s ever-increasing sense of dread. The clock showed just a little past five. He had not heard from Starsky or Huggy. The one time he’d spoken with Dobey had left him feeling like he’d been the victim of misdirection. Hutch thought he was starting a fever and he was in no mood for it. He shoved it out of his mind as best he could and figured out that he could pace if he got up slowly and adjusted to being vertical before he started. The tension was intolerable by the time it occurred to him that he might be able to figure out if anything major was happening by listening to the police radio in his car.
Cold and shivering, he threw on a coat. Tying his shoes had nearly resulted in an unscheduled meeting between himself and the floor. He didn’t intend to go anywhere, just to listen.
The trip down the stairs at Venice Place was exhilarating. Hutch came close to losing his balance and pitching down the stairs more than once. He managed to pull it off and after resting at the foot of the stairs, was able to continue on his path to the car. Within a few minutes, Hutch was in his car listening to the radio traffic.
Nothing much happened for a while. The calls were typical and relatively ordinary. Hutch was slumped in the front seat, his head resting on his arms, when a squawk came through that nearly stopped his heart.
A voice Hutch was somewhat sure belonged to Steve Rawlins was frantically calling for backup for Zebra Three.
“We are fleeing a black Cadillac with dark windows. Shots fired, officers in need of assistance!”
Hutch snapped his head up and turned up the volume. “Give them your location!” he said to no one in particular.
“Roger, Zebra Three, what is your location?”
The sound of shots being fired was all too chillingly plain in the background of the response.
“Truck!” Rawlins shouted, followed by the sounds of breaking glass and squealing tires.
Hutch picked up the mic, but stopped to listen when Rawlins called again.
“We are southbound on La Manga, heading toward East Canyon Road!”
More dismaying sounds came through the radio before contact was abruptly lost.
“Starsky!” Hutch shouted. He was coughing and starting to wheeze, but he was determined to try somehow to get to his partner. If he had any hope of helping, he knew he’d need his gun and it was upstairs in his apartment.
The trip from the car to the door was taxing enough. Hutch had to stop just inside the door to the stairs leading up to his place for a minute or two to catch his breath enough for the climb. Those spots were dancing again and he was getting angrier by the moment. The last time he had climbed those steps, Starsky was there to catch him when he stumbled and to make sure he made it safely to the landing.
After taking a series of calming breaths, Hutch started up the stairs. He made it about a third of the way when more coughing overtook him. He felt like he couldn’t catch his breath and his ears began to ring. He tried to keep it together, but lost the battle with consciousness and collapsed right where he was, out cold with a climbing fever.
***
“What do you mean you lost them!” Captain Dobey bellowed into the telephone.
“I’m sorry, Cap,” Desk Sergeant Mike Ballard said. “They called for help and several units responded. By the time they got to their last known location, they were nowhere.”
Dobey knew there was no point in yelling. He took a deep breath. The man on the phone updating him was not at fault for any of what was happening. Obviously, someone had tipped off one bad guy or another and had put Starsky and Rawlins in jeopardy. Yelling at the messenger was not going to help and was not going to find out where Starsky, Rawlins, or Callendar were.
“I want every available unit in the hunt. Put it on the air immediately. I want an APB out on both Detectives Starsky and Rawlins. Missing officers. Leave Callendar out of it. Either he’s with them or he’s dead.”
“Yes, sir,” Ballard replied. “I’m on it.”
Dobey sat and listened to the buzzing of the disconnected line for several seconds before hitting the hook switch and dialing.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Pick up, Hutch! Ring. Ring.
He hung up the phone in disgust. After several moments thinking about how to handle this next task, he picked the phone up again and dialed a number he wished he did not need to have memorized. The man he was trying to reach answered, sounding a little harried.
“The Bear is busy, make it fast,” Huggy said.
“Huggy, Dobey.”
“What can I do you for, El Capitan.”
“Can it, Huggy. I need you to handle something. Starsky may be in trouble and I want you over at Hutch’s as soon as you can get there to keep a lid on it with the other half of the dynamic duo. Can you do that?”
The concern in Huggy’s voice was unmistakable. “What kind of trouble?”
“The kind that gets his partner stirred up, only this time he can’t afford it. He needs to rest, understand?”
“Yeah, I hear ya. I don’t want to lie to our Viking friend. What should I tell him?”
“Nothing unless you have to, Huggy. Just buy me some time to figure out what in the blue blazes is going on, got it?”
“Okay. I’m supposed to bring Blondie some repast in a while. I’ll head over now and see if I can get things under control. Give me half an hour. After that, you can call me at his place.”
Dobey sighed his relief. “Guess I owe you one again, Huggy. Thanks.”
***
“Shit!” Rawlins exclaimed as Starsky left the roadway and hurtled the nondescript undercover car down an embankment off East Canyon Road. Rawlins had been frantically calling for backup when a bullet shattered the driver’s side window, grazing Starsky in the upper arm and passing through shattering the front passenger window.
“You’re bleeding!” Rawlins shouted while yanking a handkerchief out of his pocket and aiming it in Starsky’s direction.
Starsky ignored him the same way he was ignoring the wound. He needed all of his concentration to drive.
“What the hell are you gonna do?” Callendar shouted.
Rawlins turned toward the hit man and said, “Stuff a sock in it, Callendar. We’re all that’s standing between you and your maker.”
Starsky didn’t dare take his right hand off the wheel to shake off Rawlins’ attempt to staunch the flow of blood. “There’s a culvert down here. We’ll use it to get into the drainage system. I know where we can hide until the cavalry can find us.”
Tree branches were breaking over and around the brown car. When Starsky knew where he was, he shouted, “Hang on!” and jerked the wheel to the right, hurtling the car into some trees. The shock from their sudden stop jerked the wheel out his hands and propelled Rawlins into the windshield. Callendar started to come over the front seats, but was able to brace for impact thanks to Starsky’s warning.
For several moments, the passengers of the dark brown police car sat stunned and a little confused. As soon as he’d snapped out of it enough, Starsky exclaimed, “We’ve gotta get out of here! Everybody okay?”
Rawlins nodded and swiped at some blood on his forehead. “Yeah, bruised but not broken. Callendar?”
“Get me the hell out of here!” Callendar shouted in response.
The three men stumbled out of the car. Starsky pointed out the direction he planned to take. “Fifty yards that way we can get into the drainage system. Grab the flashlight and follow me; I know a good place.”
“Shouldn’t we call in?” Rawlins asked.
“No. They probably have a scanner.”
Starsky took off toward the west. He had drawn his weapon and was ready to fire at anything that challenged him and hoping that Rawlins could shake off the impact enough to grab the flashlight and get both himself and Callendar moving.
“He’s your best bet, Hit Man.” Rawlins yelled at Callendar. “Better follow him.”
Rawlins and Callendar double-timed it to catch up to Starsky, who was already well ahead of them.
***
Huggy shifted the box in his hands to more easily open the street door at Venice Place. His eyes adjusted to the light and he realized almost immediately that the man he’d been sent to look after was sprawled unconscious on the stairs.
“Hutch!” Huggy exclaimed as he set the box of food down and immediately climbed up to where his friend lay. He shook his shoulder and elicited a moan.
“That’s it, wake up, Blondie.”
Hutch’s eyelids twitched and then fluttered open, revealing glassy blue eyes. “Starsk?” Hutch asked, looking dizzy and miserable.
“No, Huggy. Curly is out mustering the troops. You okay?”
“Uh, what am I doing here?” Hutch asked.
“Good question. Come on, let’s get you back upstairs.” Huggy was concerned by the warmth he felt from Hutch as he helped him to his feet. “You have a fever,” he said.
“Nah, just a little overheated 1 guess.”
Ignoring that comment, Huggy struggled up the stairs with his charge, uneasy about how much of Hutch’s weight he was supporting and how hard it was for his friend to ascend each step. Concern aside, even a skinny, off-his-feed Hutch outweighed him by an easy forty pounds. Carrying him up the stairs was out of the question. After some tense moments, he got Hutch through the door and onto his couch.
“Sit tight,” Huggy directed. He headed for the kitchen to get a cold drink for his feverish friend, his mind racing with what to do. Starsky was in trouble out there somewhere, a thing Huggy was supposed to cover. He was worried that Hutch would figure out what was happening as soon as Huggy did not try to call Starsky about finding his partner collapsed on his stairs. He stalled for time for a few moments while he gathered the cold drink and found the aspirin.
Huggy put the glass in Hutch’s shaking hand. “Drink this,” he said “and take a couple aspirin.”
Hutch accepted the pills and took them. “Thanks, Hug.”
“Just what were you doing out on the stairs?”
Hutch furrowed his brow, obviously straining to remember. When it came to him, his eyes opened wider and he said, “Starsky!” He started to get up, but Huggy put a hand on his shoulder and easily pushed him back down onto the couch.
“Whoa, Kemosabe! You’re not going anywhere. What it is?”
“Starsky’s in trouble!”
“What is it you think you can do right now?”
“Help, damn it! When I didn’t hear from him for long enough to get worried, I went down to my car to listen to the radio for a while. He and another detective we know are out there in serious trouble. I was trying to come up here to get my gun and, well, I guess I tried to get up the stairs too fast. I’m gonna need your help.”
Huggy sighed. He was trying to figure out how to respond, when he realized Hutch was onto the fact that he knew something. The look in his friend’s eyes had switched from barely controlled panic to cold realization in a heartbeat and Huggy didn’t miss the shift.
“Wait a minute,” Hutch started. He turned his head slightly and lowered his eyelids. “Give.”
“I don’t know any more than what you already figured. Dobey called and told me he was in some kind of hot water and—”
“What kind?” Hutch demanded.
“The kind that gets you more excitable than you need to be right now, bro’.”
“Damn it, Huggy! When was somebody planning to let me in on what’s happening with my partner?”
“El Patron is s’posed to call here any time now. He just asked me to run interference so’s you don’t go undoing all the progress you’ve made.”
“When did I stop being in charge of that?” Hutch demanded.
Huggy pinned him with his eyes and said, “Listen up, Flatfoot. You didn’t get to see what your partner went through to save your Viking ass, but the Bear did.” This was a tone and approach that Huggy rarely took with Hutch, but he was worried that he would be unsuccessful convincing his friend to listen to reason and he did not want to waste time he feared he did not have. “I have never seen Curly like he was those days and you are not going to go off puttin’ yourself in Harm’s way and gettin’ yourself killed leaving me and Dobey behind to pick up shattered partner pieces, you got that?”
Being completely stunned into speechlessness was a thing Huggy knew rarely happened to the usually in-control detective. That appeared to be where Hutch was, so Huggy pressed the advantage.
“Calm down and we’ll call Dobey and get the lowdown. I get it that you feel like you’re the only person who can do right by your partner, but this time you’ve gotta let go. Don’t make what he went through be for nothin’. That’d kill him, dig?”
Hutch didn’t have time to respond before the phone rang.
***
Callendar was obviously having a difficult time keeping the pace Starsky was setting. He was sufficiently recovered from the plague and the trauma of being shot to travel, but running for his life was a stretch. Rawlins dragged him along when he started to lose ground. The run through the overgrowth to the place Starsky was leading them was taking a toll on the paid killer.
Starsky did not waste the time or energy to look back to see if the other men were keeping pace. Adrenalin kept him going, focused only on the way to what he hoped would be at least temporary safety. He pelted toward the culvert he knew would lead them into the system of flood canals, fearing the dash across the open canal to the drain opening he was heading for on the other side. The farther ahead he could get them, the better the chance they would make it so he had to trust that Rawlins would keep their special charge moving.
The canal was dry, meaning they would not even leave wet footprints to show where they had gone. That was lucky. The down slope of concrete left Callendar stumbling by the time they reached the flat part of the dry waterway. When they reached the other side, Callendar stopped briefly, nearly out of breath.
“Come on!” Rawlins shouted. “Move it!”
Starsky had already scaled the concrete and disappeared into a tunnel when he heard Rawlins shouting and the realization hit him that something wasn’t right. He reversed direction to see if he could help.
Rawlins had an arm around Callendar’s waist, barely keeping the man on his feet, much less propelling him up a steeply graded slope. Starsky quickly scanned the other side of the canal before he popped out into the open, raced back down the concrete and got on the other side of Callendar to help get the man up and out of sight. As Callendar and Rawlins entered the tunnel, Starsky spun around, pulling his gun and sweeping the area while he backed in behind them. He finally turned around and holstered his gun when he was certain they were out of sight. His eyes adjusted to the darker light and fell on Callendar sitting down with his back up against the concrete wall and Rawlins walking toward him.
“We’ve got to get him farther in,” Starsky said.
Rawlins nodded. “I know, but he needs a minute and you need that arm looked at.”
Starsky hadn’t noticed it was still bleeding. He couldn’t feel it and he shook his head, “It’ll wait. We don’t have time if we’re gonna stay ahead.”
Rawlins said, “He won’t be moving for a few minutes. He’s still getting over a gut shot, not to mention the same shit that nearly killed Hutch. Give him a minute while I look at that.” He pointed toward Starsky’s bloody, torn jacket sleeve.
He didn’t like it, but Starsky capitulated. “Okay. I’m moving up to just inside the opening so I can keep an eye out while you do whatever it is you’re gonna do. I swear it’s nothing.”
Rawlins glared at him as he reached into his pocket for his clean handkerchief. “Yeah. Pretend I’m your partner and tell me that again.”
Hutch. Starsky hoped he was all right and that their captain would keep him from knowing what was happening. He indulged in a few minutes of deep introspection while his friend did what he could to clean and bind his wound. They may not have left a trail of wet footprints, but Starsky was concerned about leaving a blood trail. Though it bled steadily, he knew the wound wasn’t dangerous in comparison to their exposure to hired assassins.
“Best I can do under the circumstances,” Rawlins said.
“It isn’t that bad, just bled a lot.”
Rawlins nodded. “What about him?” He jerked his head back at Callendar.
“Better get him further in,” Starsky replied.
“Then what?”
“Then, I hole up with him while you go for help.”
“Wait a minute,” Rawlins started to protest.
“We can argue later. No time for that now.” Starsky walked past him toward Callendar before Rawlins could finish. “Come on,” he said. “We have to move or we’re all dead.” Starsky pulled the hit man to his feet and pointed farther into the darkness. “That way.”
“Why?” Callendar asked.
“Because you came in. Because I gave you my word.”
Callendar nodded. “Your life for his?”
Starsky lifted his chin a little and answered, “If that’s the way it goes down, that was always the game, Tito.”
***
Closest to the ringing phone, Huggy answered. “Hutch’s pad.”
“Dobey.”
“We were just gonna call you. He knows something’s up.”
“Better let me talk to him.”
Hutch took the receiver and said, “Talk to me.”
“Did Huggy spill it?” Dobey asked.
“No. I heard it on the air. What’s happening with my partner?”
“I’ll tell you, but you need to let me handle it. I’m on it.”
“Just tell me, Cap.”
“Starsky and Rawlins picked Callendar up to take him to the airport. They were in an unmarked car that dropped off the radar maybe forty-five minutes ago near La Manga and East Canyon. Units have been looking for them since.”
Hutch dropped onto the couch. “Shit. Okay, well did anyone check off road?”
Dobey was about to respond when his other line buzzed. “Hold on a minute, Hutch. Maybe this is an answer.”
Hutch waited for what felt like thirty years instead of thirty seconds before Dobey returned to the phone and said, “The car’s been found and I’m heading over there now. I’ll call when I know something.”
“Where?” Hutch asked.
“No dice, Hutch. You stay by the phone. I promise I’ll call as soon as I can.”
“You don’t really think I’m staying here, right?”
After a moment’s pause, Dobey said, “1 suppose not. Sit tight. I’ll send a car for you if you promise to take it easy.”
“I promise. No need for Starsky to kill both of us when this is over, right?”
“Right. Be out front in five.”
“Thanks, Cap.” Hutch hung up and turned to his friend. “They’re sending a car for me. Why don’t you go back and do your thing. I’ll call you when I know something.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I have to be. Starsky may be in trouble.”
***
Captain Dobey was standing on the sidewalk talking to some officers when the car he’d sent for Hutch came around the corner. He sighed and tried to steel himself for what would undoubtedly come next as he watched the squad park. He walked that way, hoping to intercept his officer and keep him from rushing to the wrecked car, his partner’s last known location.
Hutch appeared to be pretty agitated by the time one of the officers had opened the back door for him. Dobey could see he was trying to move faster than he should. Hutch’s color was not good and he had a thin sheen of perspiration on his face.
“Slow it down, Hutch,” Dobey said as he approached.
Hutch’s only reply was, “Talk to me, Cap.”
“The car is down there,” the captain answered, pointing toward where the car’s exit from the roadway was fairly obvious. Hutch’s eyes opened wider and his boss quickly continued, “No one was in it.”
Hutch nodded. “Any ideas where they are?”
“No sign of them.”
“At least they left on their own steam,” Hutch stated.
“You’re probably right. If they hadn’t—”
“We’d have three bodies,” Hutch finished. “Better let me take a look at it.”
Dobey put a hand on his arm and said, “Hutch, you promised me you’d take it easy.”
“I am, damn it!” Hutch barked, some of his control slipping away from him.
Dobey wanted to prepare him somewhat. “There’s blood, Hutch.” \
Hutch’s lips tightened and he nodded. The captain stood out of his way and watched while the man who probably stood the best chance of figuring out where his partner might have gone passed him and headed down the hill. None of them knew the men who had chased his partner and caused this mess were watching their every move from a short distance. They couldn’t get close enough to take action unnoticed amidst an impressive BCPD response, but they could bide their time.
***
As they went farther into the drainage canal, the light grew increasingly dim. Starsky was glad he’d thought to tell Rawlins to bring the flashlight, despite the fact that his temporary partner probably thought it was a crazy request. He smirked a little when he saw the light come on behind them.
“Where are we going?” Rawlins asked.
“To a safe place, if it’s still there. How good are you at orienteering?”
Rawlins laughed. “Pretty good with a compass and map. Why?”
“Because you don’t have either one and you’re only going so far. We’re almost to the place where we separate.”
Callendar was breathing hard, and Starsky could hear the strain in his voice when he asked, “Where the hell are we going?”
Starsky stopped and turned to face the other two men. “Look, somebody obviously leaked that we were coming for you. We’re going to hide and Rawlins is going for help. I know a place. Keep up.”
Without another word, he turned and headed down the darkest tunnel yet.
“You gonna do that?” Callendar asked Rawlins as they followed.
“I plan to argue, but yeah. I’m gonna do what he says. He’s good and he has his reasons. I trust him.”
Callendar said, “Guess I do, too.”
They had only gone on for a few minutes when Starsky stopped at a spot where the dark mouths of two tunnels angling off in different directions were in front of them. Starsky turned around to face them.
“This is as far as you go, Rawlins.”
“Starsky, I don’t—”
“Steve,” Starsky said, his tone serious. “I don’t want you to know exactly where we’ll be.”
“Just in case I get caught?”
“Yeah. Sorry, but I think it’s best.”
“You’re right. What do you want me to do?”
Starsky was relieved that his friend was willing to go along with this scheme. He pointed to the tunnel on the right and said, “Take that tunnel. I’m gonna need to hang onto the flashlight. There’s absolutely no light where we’re going. You can put your hand on the tunnel wall and keep moving. Within five minutes or so, you’ll see some light off to your right. Head for it. Once you find that tunnel keep going and heading toward where it gets lighter. Eventually, you’ll come out in a different part of the system. When you reach the opening, you’ll be near the Tenth Street Bridge. You can climb back out there and you’ll find a pay phone within two blocks south or north.”
“Okay,” Rawlins replied. “What about you and Callendar?”
“Only one other person knows where I’ll be. Call Dobey and tell him he needs to get Huggy. He can tell Huggy he needs him to lead the cavalry to The Hole. Huggy will know where we are.”
“What about Hutch?”
“Dobey’ll handle it. I don’t want Hutch anywhere near this. He’s not up to it. ‘Sides, he doesn’t even know about this place.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Rawlins said.
Callendar added, “You and me both.”
“If this works, we’ll all get out alive. Rawlins, stay focused. The guys after Callendar may have guessed we ducked into these tunnels and they may stake out as many of them as they have men to cover. Don’t get yourself killed.”
Rawlins smiled and said, “You follow that advice yourself. Don’t make me have to explain that you’ve bought it to your partner.”
“I’ll do my best Now, get out of here. I’ll shine the light down there until you make it out of sight.”
“Good luck,” Rawlins said. Turning to the hit man, he added, “His sense of honor is all that stands between you and Hell, Thomas Callendar. Stay sharp.” He shook Starsky’s hand and started to walk away when Starsky called him back.
“Hey,” he said. “If you get to the other side of this and I don’t, look out for my partner, huh? You know what it’s like.”
“God help me, I do,” Rawlins replied. “I promise.”
With that, Callendar and Starsky watched as Rawlins headed toward and into the tunnel. Starsky kept the light shining down the tunnel for at least half a minute after he lost sight of the other detective. His thoughts were racing and he sent out a prayer that Rawlins would make it and this would turn out all right in the end. Some men might have abandoned Callendar, but he could not do that. He owed the man and he intended to make good on his promise to help him onto a plane to any country that would take him. When he was sure Rawlins was past the point where the flashlight was helping him, he dropped it and turned to Callendar.
“Just me and you now, Tito.”
“I heard what you said to him. Back when we first got in here.”
“What was that?”
“About giving your life for your partner. I gotta know, what makes anything or anyone worth the price of your life?”
“What made saving Richie worth risking yours?”
Callendar was silent for a few seconds before he said, “He was worth it. The only person worth it in a lot of years.”
“Hutch is worth it, too.”
***
The blood in the car was on the steering wheel, the driver’s seat, and the driver’s door. At least it didn’t seem like a life-threatening amount to Hutch. He shook his head at the irony of the thought that any amount of his now-missing partner’s blood was a relief. The passenger side of the windshield had a crack in it and a smear of blood where Rawlins had hit it. Both front windows had obviously been shot out through the driver’s side. Small shards of safety glass littered the front seat, mostly on the driver’s side and in the middle. The glove box was open and so were three of the four doors. A quick look through the glove box revealed that the flashlight was missing.
A couple of uniformed officers were standing behind him, waiting while he assessed the damage and gathered his thoughts.
Hutch turned to the other officers and said, “Starsky must have been hit, but the amount of blood probably makes it look worse than it is. At least I hope so.”
“How do you know it wasn’t Rawlins driving?” the younger officer asked. His older partner whacked him on the arm and shot him a clear “shut up” look.
Hutch didn’t recognize the young man. He read his nameplate and remembered seeing the name on the list of recent academy graduates. The older man, Nick Collins, had been in the department a long time as a training officer. Despite his pounding headache, dizziness, and escalating worry for his best friend, he answered in a way that would seem instructional, rather than snapping at him.
“Because he’s my partner, Reynolds,” Hutch answered. “When you work with a partner, you learn everything you can about him. How he thinks, what makes him tick, what moves he might make. That’s how you keep each other safe. Understand?”
Reynolds nodded. “So where’d he go?”
“I’m working on it,” Hutch answered.
***
The men who had been pursuing Starsky had lost him in the chase. After they shot out Starsky’s window, he had poured on more speed and taken a series of turns that shook them off his tail. They were held up behind a stalled cement truck for possibly thirty seconds, just long enough for the brown car to disappear. By the time they resumed pursuit, they were thwarted by a series of one-way streets, the beginnings of commute traffic, and a dozen squad cars that were all obviously looking for their quarry. That’s what forced them to drop back and let the BCPD locate the car.
They watched while a tow truck hauled the smashed undercover car back up to the street.
The shot-out driver’s window gave Mike Draper a chill. “You shouldn’t have taken a shot at Starsky, Wade,” he said. “I told you what Roper’s orders were.”
Wade Bossier put his binoculars down and looked over at his partner. “I wasn’t aiming to kill him. If I had, he’d be dead and so would the rest of them. I was just trying to throw him off.”
“At the speeds we were driving, you’re lucky you didn’t hit him in the head.”
“Keep your shirt on, Mike. I’m too good a shot for that. As soon as the heat pulls up stakes, we’ll get down there and see where he might have gone. They’re on foot now and they’re gonna be scared to come back out in the open. They have to know we have a man at Metro.”
“Probably. Maybe we should go check in with Roper.”
“No way. Not ’til it’s done. We’re gonna find Callendar and finish him before tonight is over.”
***
The climb back up the embankment to where Captain Dobey stood waiting for him took almost every bit of Hutch’s depleted energy. He was seeing spots again and barely holding onto consciousness by the time he reached the top. Officer Reynolds was already up on the sidewalk, leaving his training officer coming up behind the weary detective. Reynolds put a hand out to help Hutch get up the last few feet then put a steadying hand on Hutch’s shoulder and asked, “You okay, Sarge?”
Hutch nodded. “Just a little under the weather,” he tried to explain.
Captain Dobey walked toward Hutch, taking in his appearance with a disapproving scowl. When he reached him, he said, “Looks like you could be pushed over with a feather. Let’s find a place for you to sit”
“No!” Hutch protested.
“Hutch—”
Hutch tried to continue his protest. “Cap, Starsky needs our help. I can’t….”
Dobey watched, his expression full of concern, as Hutch felt his eyes begin to lose focus. Dobey got an arm around his waist and helped him to sit on a bus stop bench.
“I’m a’right,” Hutch muttered unconvincingly.
“Yeah, you’re great. Just take a minute, huh?”
Hutch leaned against Captain Dobey and struggled to keep his hold on consciousness. “Just gimme… a second,” he said, barely louder than a whisper.
“Breathe.”
“Should we call an ambulance?” Reynolds asked.
“No, I’ve got this. Give us a few minutes.”
Hutch was breathing in shallow pants and was floating near the edge of unconsciousness. Dimly, he focused on Dobey’s voice.
“Hutch, can you hear me?”
Nodding, Hutch quietly said, “Soon as this bench stops spinning, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re pale as a ghost, Hutch. I don’t like it.”
Hutch didn’t respond. Continuing to focus on recovering from the climb, he didn’t notice when Officer Collins motioned to Dobey to come over to where he and his young partner were waiting.
“You going to be all right if I leave you here for a few minutes?” Dobey asked.
“Yeah. It’s getting better.”
“Stay put.”
***
The captain walked toward the partners. “One of you go around the corner and get some ginger-ale for Detective Hutchinson.”
“I’ll do it,” the younger man replied before he took off at a trot.
“How’s Reynolds working out?” Captain Dobey asked.
“He’s a good kid, Cap,” Collins replied. “Smart. He’s awful green, but he’s a quick study.”
“That’s good.”
“We were wondering if we could at least take him home if we’re not gonna call an ambulance. He looks rough.”
“He’ll be okay. I’d have you take him home, but I’m pretty sure he’s not going to back off the hunt for his partner as long as he’s vertical.” Captain Dobey glanced over his shoulder to check on him; pleased to see he was still upright and looked somewhat steadier. “Soon as your partner gets back, you can help wrap this up and head out on the search.”
“Yes, sir.”
Within a few minutes, Reynolds had returned with the soda and moved on to help finish with the scene.
“Feeling any better?” Dobey asked as Hutch finished the soda.
“Yeah. My head’s a lot clearer. I just need to think.”
“Any ideas where he went?”
Hutch closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture Dobey had learned over time meant that he was wracking his brain for clues he probably thought were right in front of him. After several moments he opened his eyes and snapped his fingers. “Canal,” he said.
“What?”
“The drainage canal. He’s down there hiding in the system.”
That made sense. “Right!”
Captain Dobey steadied Hutch when he stood up a little too fast. “Take it easy. I think you’d better let me send some men down there after him.”
“Nothing doing, Cap. I’m going, too. I just can’t believe I didn’t think of it before now.”
***
As the cops were mobilizing to get down to the canal, the men watching the action had moved. While Draper was dubious, Bossier insisted that the only place Starsky could have run to escape them was down into the canal. The trees and brush were not thick enough to conceal him and their quarry for long. The hit men had moved to another street several blocks down that would give them access to the canal without being seen by the cops. By the time Hutch and the others got there, the killers had already disappeared into the darkness of the tunnels.
***
Steve Rawlins had carefully followed Starsky’s directions. When he reached the mouth of the tunnel, he did a quick scan to see if anyone was around before he came out and headed up toward the Tenth Street Bridge. He kept looking around, but didn’t see anyone who posed a threat. When he came out onto the street, he brushed at the dirt on his clothes before he took off in a direction to find the pay phone.
Rawlins was amazed by Starsky’s ability to remember minute details like the location of pay phones in a random spot like this. He found the phone easily, but was not expecting it to be out of order.
“Damn it!” he said as he stalked back out to the sidewalk. He was starting to worry about time. Specifically, about the lack of it that Starsky and Callendar probably had. He headed the other direction in search of the other pay phone, but he saw a black-and-white turn the comer heading toward him before he got there and he waved them over.
“You need some help, sir?” the man riding shotgun asked.
Rawlins did not recognize the men and he knew he must look like he’d been in a fight. He put both hands out palms down and said, “I’m Detective Steve Rawlins, Homicide. I’m armed and I’m just going to reach for my ID.”
The officer nodded. When he had seen Steve’s ID he said, “Man, we’ve got the whole of Metro turned out looking for you guys. You okay?”
“I’m fine. I need you to get me to Dobey.” Steve climbed into the back and the driver peeled out, saying, “I’ll get us to where we last saw them.”
They saw the captain waiting up on an overpass when they arrived and Rawlins hurriedly got out of the car.
“Are you all right?” Dobey asked. “Where’s Starsky?”
“I’m not exactly sure, but I have a message from him.” “What do you mean you aren’t sure?”
“He led us into those tunnels and made me leave him there with Callendar. Said he didn’t want me to know exactly where he was.”
“Was he hurt bad?” Dobey asked.
“No. He got grazed by a bullet, and it bled a lot. I think he’s okay. Callendar, too. Cap, he said to tell you he needs Huggy Bear. He said to tell Huggy to lead you and the cavalry to ‘The Hole’ and that Huggy’d know what that meant.”
“Collins!” Dobey bellowed.
Collins trotted toward him in response. “Yes, sir?”
Dobey turned back toward Rawlins. “You sure you don’t need medical attention?” he asked.
“I’m just bruised and my head hurts, but I’ll live.”
Dobey nodded. “Good. Collins, take Detective Rawlins down to the Pits. I want you to bring him and Huggy Bear back here as quick as you can.”
“Code 3?”
“No,” Rawlins said. “We’d probably better not draw too much attention.”
***
“You sure you know where we’re going?” Callendar asked. He was breathing heavily and sweating profusely from the effort.
“Almost there,” Starsky replied.
In another twenty feet, Starsky’s flashlight beam hit a concrete post that stood out from the wall of the tunnel. The post had a lot of debris gathered around its base. Dirt, dead plants, a plastic laundry basket, a child’s bicycle, and a rusted shopping cart rested there. ‘
Starsky winced as he worked to pull some of the debris back to gain access to what he was seeking. He moved things as carefully as he could so they would look less like they had been recently disturbed. When he had adequate access, he turned to Callendar.
“In there,” he said pointing the beam of light into the darkness.
“You’re kidding, right?” Callendar asked incredulously.
“Nope. Dead serious. You claustrophobic or something?”
“You could say that. Look, don’t you think this is far enough in?”
“I don’t. What if you were after someone down here? Would this be enough?”
Callendar shook his head. “No. Okay, let’s go.”
Starsky led the way over the heap of detritus. A small opening about chin high on the wall proved a little challenging for him to hoist himself into with his arm throbbing, but he did it. He disappeared into the hole and softly dropped onto the floor in the small room on the other side. Callendar was right behind him.
“What is this place?” the hit man asked. The bleak, tiny room had a small makeshift table in it along with a few old crates, some cans of food and a candle. The room looked like no one had been in it for many years.
“My old hideout from when I was a kid. I found it one day and I used to come here when I needed to be alone.”
“On purpose?”
Starsky smiled at the question. “Yeah. I have no idea why it’s here. Probably some place they used while they were building these tunnels. I just knew that I’d found a cool spot that no one else seemed to know.”
“Except for someone named Huggy Bear, right? That his real name?”
After shining the flashlight around to make sure they could safely sit, Starsky said, “Pull up a crate, Callendar. We may be here a while and I’m gonna have to turn off this flashlight in case someone could see it.”
Callendar did as he was instructed. “You didn’t answer the question. What about Huggy Bear?”
Starsky plopped wearily down on a crate and leaned back against the cool damp concrete. He turned off the flashlight and closed his eyes as if it would help him to see a memory. “Huggy’s a friend. My closest friend growing up. He found out about this place and we hit it off. Thick as thieves back in the day.”
“You think he’ll remember where this is?”
“I know he will. We spent a lot of time here over a couple of summers. Sort of our base of operations, you know?”
“Teenage running buddy?”
Starsky was surprised that Callendar was so inquisitive, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt anything to indulge his curiosity and it might help to pass the time.
“I moved out here from New York to live with my aunt when I was thirteen. You could say I didn’t take it too well. I was angry and I had a funny accent so I got picked on a lot. Kinda hard to make friends when you’re forever getting in fights.”
“I suppose so. How’d you two meet?”
“I was in a fight and I’d come here to lick my wounds. I didn’t know I’d left a trail of blood drops. Huggy followed them here. I was pretty ticked right at first, but he made it clear he just wanted to help. Said he’d seen three guys jump me and he wanted to be sure I was okay.”
“Nice guy.”
“Huggy’s a solid friend. He’ll get back-up to us.”
“You really think we’re gonna make it out of here?”
“I’m planning on it.”
In an eerie repeat of the past, Starsky didn’t know that despite Steve’s attempt to keep his arm from bleeding he’d managed to leave a trail of blood drops behind him again. His thoughts turned inward as he remembered his first meeting with Huggy.
Starsky had climbed into his concrete sanctuary after a fight with three other boys. Although he was a natural extrovert, life’s circumstances had turned him into a sullen loaner with the ability to express only one type of emotion. Anger. He had gotten into a lot of trouble in his home neighborhood and his mother had sent him west to live with her sister. She told him that she thought it was best and that he would be able to get past the grief and anger he felt after his father died if he just gave his new life a chance. He knew she was afraid he would wind up in a gang, in prison, or dead long before his time if she didn’t take drastic action to protect her hotheaded eldest son from the consequences of the path he had started to tread.
David Starsky had already gone through a year in school in California and he was just relieved to have the summer to spend more time alone with his thoughts. His mother’s plan to snap him out of the destructive behavior he had slid into had worked, from the standpoint that he had not gotten into any trouble more serious than a schoolyard fight since he came to live with Rose and her husband, Al.
As teenage hormones kicked into high gear, Starsky had grown increasingly withdrawn and kept to himself at home. His dad had been a New York City police officer and he had been shot and left to bleed to death on a sidewalk near his home. Street scuttlebutt said he was the victim of a paid hit.
Worse than just losing his father that way, Starsky had shown up on the scene of the shooting with enough time to watch in horror as his dad bled to death in his arms. That was a burden no child should face.
When he came to California, he had started at his new school in the middle of their year. Coupled with the fact that he flatly refused any attempts anyone made to get to know him, and the fact that he had been skipped a grade ahead, he had done nothing to win any friends. He was always angry and short-tempered. He wouldn’t talk to anyone other than his teachers in his classes because he had been teased about his New York accent and he didn’t want to give his classmates the satisfaction of being their entertainment.
Starsky had climbed into his hideout with some napkins he’d grabbed at a hot dog stand and he was using them somewhat ineffectually to clean up the numerous cuts and scrapes he had from the fight. He was so angry over the subject of this fight his eyes burned with hot tears and his hands were shaking. He knew he would have to go home eventually and his aunt would be worried and unhappy that he had been fighting again.
This little sanctuary was something he had discovered by accident while exploring the drainage system. A small forgotten room accessible only by a high up hole in the wall had proven to be a cool and dark spot for him to slink off to with his cold and dark thoughts. Starsky was busy tending to his cuts by the light of a candle when he heard a noise and looked up to see another boy looking in on him from the hole in the wall.
Startled, Starsky angrily spat out, “Get away from me!”
The other boy didn’t budge. “You okay? “
“Get out of here!” Starsky demanded. He was now standing and facing the intruder. His clenched fists clearly indicated his willingness to defend himself.
“Take it easy, ” the boy said as he climbed up onto the ledge and then dropped into the room. “I saw those guys jump you. You were like a wild man. By the lime I got around to where I coulda helped, you’d made tracks.”
Starsky had flown into a rage at the things the three teens who had cornered him had said. He was bruised and bloody, but the other three were not in any better shape. He recognized the lanky boy who had encroached on his territory. They went to the same school, but he couldn’t remember the kid’s name. He relaxed his stance a little and said, “What’s it to you who I fight?”
“Three against one ain’t the best odds.”
“I can take care of myself,” he said, his words still laced with anger.
“Sure you can,” the other boy said, pointing at the still bleeding cut above Starsky’s eye. “That’s gonna be colorful. It’s already swollen and turning purple.”
“Did you follow me?”
“Wasn’t hard. You’re bleeding all over the place. I just followed the trail.”
Starsky stared at the other boy incredulously. None of the other kids he knew had done anything even remotely nice for him. Mostly they just gave him a wide berth because they never knew what was going to set off an angry outburst and he knew he always seemed to have an intimidating and intense look on his face. He relaxed a little more and sighed out the rest of his anger, transforming it into simple annoyance.
“I’ve seen you around. Can’t remember your name,” he said.
“Folks just call me Huggy Bear,” the boy answered.
Starsky laughed. “That’s right. You’d think that would stick.”
“David, right?” Huggy asked.
“Yeah. Just Dave will do. You might as well come all the way in and pull up a chair. It’s not much, but I’m the only one who seems to know this is here.”
“And now I do,” Huggy said. “What was the fight about?”
“Where were you?” Starsky asked, ignoring the question.
“Basketball courts shootin’ hoops with another dude. He had to split. His mama would skin him alive if he got in a fight. Gate’s on the other side so it took me a while to get around to where you were.”
“Thanks anyway,” Starsky said. “Why do they call you Huggy Bear?”
“Long story and we don’t know each other well enough for me to tell it.”
Starsky smiled. “Maybe someday.”
“The fight? You was sure mad.”
Another sigh. “They called me a kike.”
“Say what?”
“Don’t you know what that is?”
“Uh-uh.”
“I’m Jewish.”
“So?”
“It’s like if I called you a—” Starsky paused. He hated that word. He had no particular compunction about swearing, but there were words he didn’t like to say and that was one of them.
Huggy spared him continuing. “Oh, that. I hear ya.”
“Yeah, that. I hate that word. Almost as much as I hate kike. Guess it just pissed me off and when they started throwing punches along with the name calling, I just sorta lost it.”
“How’d they find out you’re a Jew? It’s not like you go around wearin’ one of them beanie things.”
Another laugh from Starsky. “You mean a yarmulke?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“I have a job at the temple. My uncle got me in with the Rabbi. I sweep up, empty the trash, that kind of thing. Guess they saw me leavin’ there.”
Starsky was an industrious young man who filled his non-sulking time with work. He had a paper route in addition to his janitorial services at the temple. He also mowed lawns for several widowed ladies from his temple. More than almost anything, he wanted to hit the road as soon as he could and he saved nearly every dime he earned in preparation to do just that. The only thing he wanted more was to be a cop one day.
“So what do you do down here?”
“Hide. Read. Just get away from everyone and everything.”
“Don’t your folks worry about you?”
“Only when I come home beat up. I live with my aunt and uncle. They’re used to me disappearin’ for a long time, but I always come home at night. My aunt says I’m just like my father. I go off alone to lick my wounds.”
“Why do you live with your aunt and uncle?”
Starsky’s eyes took on a pained and hard look and he matter-of-factly stated, “My dad’s dead and I guess my mom thinks I’m a wild man, too. She shipped me out here from New York ’cause she thought I needed a man in my life.”
Huggy frowned. “Guess you don’t like it here, huh?”
Starsky shifted in his seat and said, “I hated it at first. I miss my mom and my kid brother. I miss New York. 1 do kinda dig the weather and there’s a lot of pretty chicks out here.”
“All kinds and all colors!”
“How ’bout you? Got any brothers or sisters?”
“No. I used to, but my family all died when I was six.”
“All of them?”
“Yeah, they were in a car crash. I was sick so I didn’t go with ’em. I live with my grandma.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
“It is what it is.”
Starsky remembered that conversation fondly. After months of living in what he had initially considered exile, he had made his first California friend that day. Huggy and he had become the best of friends and it wasn’t until he met a certain soft-spoken Minnesota transplant at the police academy that he allowed anyone else to get that close to him. Now, Hutch was closer to him than anyone in his life. They had been through some dicey situations together and he hoped he was going to live through his quest to honor his word so they would have more time together. Hutch was still not fully recovered from his illness and Starsky was worried about what it might do to him if he were killed.
Not realizing he was speaking aloud, Starsky softly said, “Please be okay.” ”
What?” Callendar asked.
“Sorry. Just thinking out loud.”
***
Huggy had his back turned when Steve Rawlins walked into his place looking beat up and without Starsky. He was putting something away behind the bar, but he looked around when his bartender said, “Uh-oh, Huggy. Trouble.”
“What happened to you?” Huggy asked. “And where’s Starsky?”
“Nothing good, Huggy. He’s in trouble and we need your help.”
“Lay it on me.”
“I’ll explain in the car. Can you come?”
“You don’t gotta ask twice!”
Huggy quickly made arrangements for the bar and followed the disheveled detective out to where the squad car was waiting. As he climbed into the back, he said, “I wouldn’t climb into the back of a squad car for just anybody. Where we headed?”
“To find Dobey. Starsky said you could lead us to him at ‘The Hole’ where he took Callendar to hide.”
Huggy whistled. “That’s a reach into the way-back machine.”
“You remember where to find it, right?”
“I do. Get me there and I’ll show you.”
***
“I’m not so sure about this,” Draper said as they made their way along the drainage canal.
“Trust me,” Bossier replied. “It’s the perfect place to hide.” He had taken a flashlight from the car and set off, confident that his hunch was right.
***
During the time they sat in silence, Starsky had done a lot of thinking and a lot of remembering. The days after he had learned that his partner should recover had been long and tense for him. Even knowing that Hutch had some of the best doctors in the country working around the clock to save him and the other plague victims had done little to calm the fear Starsky felt with every little slip backward, and he couldn’t help but dwell on those days.
Two weeks earlier
“I told you that he might suffer some setbacks,” Judith Kaufmann said.
“His fever was almost gone. Why’d it spike up again now?”
“That’s just the way things go sometimes. I’ve interviewed Mr. Callendar. He had the same experience. I think it’s logical to assume the course might be similar for the other surviving plague patients.”
Starsky turned his back on the doctor and paced away from her. His nervous energy was eating him alive and he desperately needed to do something to relieve the tension before he exploded. He had already come close to being asked to leave because of his display of temper as his anxiety increased when Hutch got weaker again. He had demanded of every medical professional that crossed his path to know when things were going to settle down again.
Keeping his back turned, he said, “You told me he’d improve. When’s that going to happen?”
Judith walked over and put a hand on his arm. “I know it might not seem like it, but he is improving. He’s starting to cough, for one thing. Yesterday he was too weak. I know it’s scary, but you just have to ride it out. He’ll be all right, you’ll see.”
Starsky’s shoulders slumped and he sighed deeply. “As long as you’re sure.”
“There. Why don’t you go sit with him?”
Starsky nodded and put his hand over hers. “Thanks for pulling me off the ledge. I’ll be okay.”
“You have to be. He’s going to need you.”
“He might need you, too.” He winked at her. She blushed and turned away from him. “You have to know he’s crazy about you.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Guess it’d be kind of hard not to.”
“He’s pretty hard to resist.”
Starsky smiled. “You have no idea.”
Judith blushed again and said, “I have work to do and you have a partner to visit.”
“Hm. Evasive. Something wrong?”
“I’m not having this conversation right now. I have rounds and you have—”
“A big blond blintz to see. You gonna come check on him on your rounds?”
“In a while. I promise.”
Starsky left Judith’s office and headed in the opposite direction from her. His thoughts were all on his partner, but he had a nagging feeling about Judith’s predilection for avoiding conversation with or about Hutch. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to broach the subject.
The nurse walking out of Hutch’s room put her hand up and said, “It’s 103. That’s better.”
Starsky smiled at her. “Thanks, sweetheart. Still too high, but going in the right direction.” She tried to walk around him, but he stepped in front of her and said, “Hey, I’m really sorry.” He had yelled at her earlier that day. “I’m just scared for my partner, but I was out of line. Forgive me?”
She looked him in the eye and smiled. “Sure. I understand. Just don’t let it happen again or I’m going to have my husband kick your behind. Cop or not.”
“That’s fair, ’cause I’d deserve it. Thanks, and thanks for taking care of him.”
“You’re welcome. He’s been a little agitated. He keeps asking for you. Says he has to tell you something.”
“Why didn’t you come find me?”
“He’s been mostly incoherent, Detective. Nothing to worry about; this will pass.”
He stepped aside, glad he’d had a chance to apologize, but unhappy Hutch had been asking for him and no one had let him know.
Hutch’s eyes were closed and Starsky was concerned at how pale he was and the way his hair was damp and plastered around his face. He crossed the room and pulled up a chair next to the bed. Feverish blue eyes fluttered open and looked at him. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” Starsky took Hutch’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “How you doing?”
“It’s not one of my better days.”
“I know, buddy. You’re getting better, I promise. Probably doesn’t feel like it today, but you are.”
“Yeah? You sure?”
Starsky smiled and his eyes twinkled when he said, “Judith says.”
Hutch smiled back and nodded. “Need to tell you something.”
Starsky didn’t like that as a lead in, so he tried to shift the subject. “There’s probably a lot of things you need to tell me, but none of that’s important now.”
Shaking his head, Hutch said, “No, no. I’m being serious. Listen up, ‘kay?”
“Okay, partner. What’s so important?”
“In my desk, top drawer. There’s an envelope for you. There’s stuff in there you need to know.”
“Shhh, babe. Don’t. There’s nothing in there I need now. You’re gonna be fine.”
Hutch put a hand up to his chest, starting to wheeze. Next, he started to cough. Hacking, wet sounding coughs that scared Starsky into helping him sit up to try to get into a better position. He reached for the call button, but Hutch blocked the maneuver the best he could. Between chest-rattling coughs he said, “Don’t. They’ll put me out.”
Starsky grabbed several tissues and put them in Hutch’s shaking hand so he could spit out what he’d coughed up, terrified that this wasn’t a good sign despite Judith’s assurances.
“Starsk, I—”
“Shhh. Don’t try to talk; it takes too much energy. Just try to relax. Rest. I’m here.” Starsky pulled Hutch toward him and his friend rested his head on his shoulder and nodded. Within minutes he had fallen into a fitful sleep and Starsky carefully laid him back down and reached for the call button.
Present day
Callendar broke the long period of silence when he quietly said, “I was so sick, I thought I was gonna die, you know.”
Starsky jumped at the sudden intrusion into his thoughts, grateful that it was too dark in their bolt-hole for Callendar to see. “I’ll bet. When did you first get sick?”
“I spent some time touring around Monaco and then North Africa. I was holed up for a while, not feeling real terrific. I didn’t get really sick ’til I got here.”
“I heard you were retired. Money must’ve been too hard to resist to pull you back out for a job.”
“I didn’t really need the money, but it was a wad. I just felt like it.”
Starsky let that statement soak into his brain. “Old times?”
“Something like that.”
“Seems like murder’s a funny thing to get all nostalgic over.”
After a few moments of silence, Callendar said, “You were right about one thing. I got a heart. Lost my soul a long time ago, but I still have a heart.”
“A lot of innocent people died because you came back here. My partner barely made it.”
“I know, and believe it or not I feel bad about those people. Didn’t think I would, but I do. I don’t kill civilians and I don’t kill kids. Like Richie.”
Sitting here having a heart-to-heart with a mechanic. Can’t wait to tell Hutch. “Richie really touched you. Why?”
“Him and his mom were the first people to be kind to me in a lotta years. Since back when I had a soul. Richie took care of me when I was out of my head with fever. If he had died, I would have never forgiven myself.”
“Well, you saved Richie and you saved my partner. No matter what you’ve done, I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”
“You believe in forgiveness?”
“For some things, yeah.” Starsky wondered where this was going
“They say confession is good for the soul. You believe in confession?”
“You Catholic?”
“Lapsed. I haven’t been to Mass in a long time. Being this close to dyin’ got me thinking about things like confession, last rites, that kind of thing. I don’t suppose any priest would want to hear my story. There aren’t enough rosaries that could be said to wash away the blood on my hands. I’m going out on a limb to guess you’re probably a Jew. They don’t do that, do they?”
“No, Jews don’t do confession. ‘Sides, if you don’t have a soul, what’s it good for?”
“You’re pretty smart for a cop.”
“Cops are mostly pretty smart. I’m a detective. I’ve gotta be smart. My partner’s smart, too. Observant. He thinks a lot.”
“You more of an action type?”
“Yeah, but he is, too. There’s nobody I’d rather have at my back. Nobody I’d rather have as a partner.”
“He feel that way about you?”
“What’d’you think? We’re best friends.”
“I had a partner a long time ago. He got himself killed. That’s when I went solo. I haven’t trusted anybody since.”
Starsky had a question he really wanted an answer to and given the circumstances, he decided to ask it. “You have any idea how many people you’ve killed?”
The room got quiet for long enough that Starsky thought he’d pissed the hit man off, but he finally answered. “Not really. Maybe fifty, give or take. I’ve been at it a long time.”
Fifty human beings snuffed out by a man who seemed uncharacteristically forthcoming given the circumstances. Starsky guessed it was because he had nothing to lose. He would either wind up dead, or in a foreign country within the next twenty-four hours. “I can’t give you anything to do to get into Heaven. Why’d you answer me?”
“We’re probably dead. Penance or not, you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a priest.”
Now, Starsky laughed. “I think you’re screwed.”
***
Huggy had provided good information about where to go to most quickly reach Starsky in “The Hole.” When they arrived and climbed out of the squad car, Rawlins put a hand on Huggy’s arm before he headed down the slope that would take them to the nearest entrance to the drainage system.
“You know you have to stay behind me, right?” he asked gently, yet pointedly.
“How’m I supposed to lead tine way from behind you?” Huggy petulantly inquired.
“You’re supposed to tell me where to go next and stay back in case there could be gunfire. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it. Starsky’s my brother, man. You gotta understand if he’s in danger, the Bear’s gotta do what the Bear’s gotta do.”
Rawlins put a flashlight in Huggy’s hand and said, “I do understand. He’s family. Fair enough, but if he knew I let you put yourself out front, he’d kick my ass up one side and down the other. Starsky’s real clear on the people he protects, and you’re one of them. I prefer my ass un-kicked. Don’t do anything that makes him want to hurt us both, okay?”
Huggy stared at Rawlins for a few seconds before he nodded his agreement. They headed down to the path that should lead them to safely procuring Starsky. They hadn’t gone far when they encountered their first obstacle.
“What the hell is that doing there?” Huggy exclaimed. A few feet into the second turn they made showed an iron bar barrier had been placed from floor to ceiling.
One of the uniforms answered, “My brother-in-law works for Public Works. They put those up when they have to seal off part of the system when it’s damaged.”
“Damn,” Rawlins said. “We won’t get through that without a cutting tool and a generator. Since I left mine at home, we’ll have to backtrack and find another route.”
Huggy said, “We need to go back up to the street and move over to where you said you came out. That way’s longer, but we know it’s clear.”
“Are you sure you can find your way through there? I found my way out by following the light like Starsky told me to, but I sure couldn’t retrace the trip.”
“I think so. I hope so. This is the way I used to go, but Starsky knows how to get there from anywhere. We’ll find him.”
***
One week ago
Starsky’s concern when Hutch’s dry cough turned into a body-wrenching wet productive one had been well founded. Even as he was recovering from the plague, Hutch developed pneumonia. Starsky’s frantic persistence paid off in the medical team’s response to get things under control, but the coughing refused to completely subside and the fever also persisted. The poor man was going completely stir crazy. Since he had adequately recovered from the plague, was no longer contagious, and his fever was down under 101 for the past day, his doctors had reluctantly agreed to release him to his partner’s careful ministrations. That first day did not go well.
Captain Dobey had agreed that Starsky could spend that first day with Hutch to make sure he was going to be all right. He had also agreed when Starsky found another detective who was willing to switch his scheduled weekend shifts with him for two days later in the week that it would be fine if he made the swap. With Hutch’s low-grade fever still lingering and that cough still rattling him at a molecular level, Starsky was extra grateful.
“I hate that cough medicine,” Hutch groused at him. “Makes me sleepy.”
“Good, you need to rest.”
“Makes me stupid, too.”
“Nothing could make you stupid. Even long association with me hasn’t done that. You just need to trust me and take it.”
Hutch started to laugh, and that led to more coughing. When he got it under control he said, “Don’t talk about my partner like that. I might have to hurt you.”
“Yeah? You and what army? Now be a good boy and take your medicine.” Starsky put the bottle and a spoon into Hutch’s hand.
“This isn’t a very accurate measuring implement.”
“I think it’ll do.”
“Okay, I’ll take it when it’s time. That’s not for another thirty minutes.” He put a hand up to still Starsky’s pending protest. “Not a minute sooner.”
Starsky took the bottle and spoon back from him and said, “Tick, tick. That’s twenty-nine minutes and fifteen seconds.”
Smiling, Hutch said, “Okay. Please stop worrying so much. I’m getting better all the time.”
Before Starsky could fire off a sarcastic reply, Hutch began to cough again. The coughing got worse and worse and suddenly he grabbed his side and dropped to the floor.
“Hutch!” Starsky knelt next to him, distraught by the pain-clenched eyes and wheezing. “I’m calling an ambulance!”
Hutch grabbed his wrist and shook his head. “Don’t!” He sat back and Starsky got behind him, pulling his back against his chest and holding him tight while he got the wheezing back under control.
“Please, babe,” he pleaded while making no move to defy Hutch’s request. “Something’s really wrong.”
“No,” Hutch replied. He dropped his head back on Starsky’s shoulder and breathed hard for a few moments before he could talk again. “Pulled a muscle.”
“Looked more like you broke a rib. You sure?”
Hutch nodded. “Damn it. I’m… so… tired of this.”
Starsky rubbed his arm and said, “Shhh. I know. Judith is still at the hospital. She wasn’t supposed to go back to the hotel ’til eight. Just let me call her, okay?”
Hutch’s eyes stayed closed, but he nodded again. “Just to make you feel better. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Think you can stand?”
“Help me up.”
Starsky helped his partner up and then to his bed. This time, Hutch didn’t argue with the cough syrup. He took some and accepted a glass of water while Starsky called to make sure he didn’t need that ambulance. The few minutes it took to track down Judith seemed like hours to Starsky.
“What’s wrong,” she asked as soon as she came on the line.
“He can’t stop coughing and he collapsed to the floor a while ago. Says he pulled a muscle.”
“That’s concerning,” Judith replied.
“No kidding. Do I need an ambulance?” Starsky refused to look at Hutch during this conversation. He feared his resolve would weaken if he looked into his partner’s pleading eyes
“Is he okay now?”
“No, he’s not okay! He’s fifty miles from okay. What’s happening!?”
“Dave, I know you’re scared. You know he’s had pneumonia on top of everything else. His muscles are probably weak from all the coughing he’s been doing. Is he taking the medicine?”
“Reluctantly and mostly under protest.”
“Okay, I think I know what’s happening. Now, just listen and don’t overreact. On top of everything else he’s been through, he’s probably reacting to his own secretions. That cough medicine is essential. The expectorant in it will help, but it will make him produce a lot from the coughing.”
Starsky wasn’t clinical, but he was a detective. He quickly deduced what Dr. Kaufmann was saying between the lines. “Are you telling me he’s allergic to himself?”
“Not precisely, but in a convoluted sort of way, yes. I’m going to order an inhaler for him. Along with the antibiotic and the cough medicine, that should settle things down again.”
“You keep saying that, but I just feel like he’s slipping away from me. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Dave, please trust me. This stinks and it isn’t any fun, but in another week or two, things are going to look a whole lot better. Just hang in there for him, okay? Not being able to breathe right can be terrifying. Don’t let him panic. He needs to be calm and for God’s sake, he needs to rest.”
Starsky was worried about getting that inhaler. “I can’t leave him like this.”
“Of course you can’t. Just sit tight. I’ll leave a little early and bring it myself. What’s the address?”
After he hung up the phone, Starsky said, “Okay, buddy. You win this time. No ambulance. That doesn’t mean I can’t haul you to the E.R. in the tomato if I need to, so behave.”
“Did you really just say that? I’m dying. That’s it, right?”
Starsky hit him softly on the arm with the back of his hand and said, “You are not allowed to go first. We’ve had this conversation.”
After helping him get comfortable and covering him up against the chill he was now experiencing, Starsky left his friend to sleep and went back to the couch to wait for Judith.
Present Day
Hutch was still running a fever and he was wheezing with the effort to search for his partner. The stress of worry and the physical exertion were taking their toll, but he was not willing to let that slow him down if he could help it. He kept pace the best he could and he studiously avoided the eyes of other officers who could see he was struggling. The group of men searching stopped and the team lead turned to Hutch.
“Any idea what direction he would have gone?”
Hutch shook his head. “No. I’ve never been in here with him.” He stopped and breathed deeply for a few seconds, punctuated by some coughing.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Hutch nodded, though it took him a few moments to respond. “Let’s concentrate on finding my partner.”
The men proceeded into the tunnels. Hutch was scared for Starsky. The blood in the wrecked car was a minor worry in comparison to the thugs who must be after his partner and Thomas Callendar. Every minute it took to find them was a chance the bad guys could have gotten there first. As awful as he felt, he could not bring himself to drop out of the search, even if Starsky was furious when he learned the entire story. Hutch would have been grateful for an angry Starsky. An angry Starsky was at least alive.
***
Starsky kept thinking he could hear sounds coming from the tunnels so he had insisted that they keep quiet for some time inside their hiding space. That silence was probably the best bet for their survival. He knew he needed to stay focused, but he couldn’t help but continue to remember things. When he wasn’t thinking of Hutch, he thought about the times he spent with Huggy many years in the past. They had a lot of fun in those days and built a bond that would last throughout their lives. As important to Starsky as their first meeting there had been, the last time they met there felt like the end of an era when Starsky reflected on it. He smiled when he remembered how bundled up and cold Huggy had been that night.
“Man, you’d never made it in New York. You look like an Eskimo.”
“I didn’t grow up with snow!”
“Hug, it’s fifty degrees tonight. It’d probably help if you weighed over a hundred pounds.”
Huggy had playfully slugged Starsky on the arm for that remark. “I’ll have you know I do. Not by a lot, but I do. Why’d you wanna meet down here anyway, and what’s with the duffle bag?”
Starsky had taken a deep breath before he said, “I’m leaving, Huggy. I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Huh?”
“I’m out of here. I told you I might take off; well, I decided. I graduated and there’s nothing to hold me here.”
“You can’t just disappear!”
“I can and I will. I feel bad for Aunt Rose and Uncle Al, but I have to do this.”
Since Starsky moved out to California, trouble had followed him. The house had been broken into more than once since he came and he knew it had something to do with him. He had graduated early and was only sixteen, but he was determined.
“Nothing I can do to talk you out of this?”
“No. You know why, Huggy. I told you someone’s been watching me. I know it. If I stay, something bad’s gonna happen. I got a feeling.”
“Where you gonna go?”
“Not sure.”
“You prob’ly wouldn’t tell me anyway, would ya?”
“Nope. I don’t want anybody hurt ’cause of me. I’m sorry it has to be this way.”
Huggy closed his eyes, shaking his head and muttering while he dug in his pockets for something. “You are the stubbornist, pig-headed white boy I’ve ever known.” He pulled out some money and held it out for Starsky to see. “Take that.”
“No way, man. I can’t take that.”
“Look, you take it now. I’ll get more. There’s about fifty bucks there.”
Starsky reluctantly took it. “Fifty bucks? Where’d you get fifty bucks?”
“You don’t need to know everything, dig?”
“Thanks. Keep an eye on the folks for me?”
“You got it. You know they’ll try to drag it out of me. Rose and Al are gonna have a fit and your mom? I just hope they don’t make me talk to her.”
“I feel real bud about Ma. I left a letter for her and one for Rose and Al back at the house. You don’t know anything so it doesn’t matter even if they turn the lights on ya and get out the rubber hoses.”
Huggy wasn’t an overly demonstrative young man, so he’d completely surprised Starsky when he suddenly grabbed him in a hug. “You take care of yourself and try to check in if you can.”
Starsky hugged him back, fighting tears and knowing that Huggy was starting to lose that battle.
“I will. I’ll be back someday. When it’s safe. When I can take care of me and mine, you know?”
Starsky had shared his wish to become a police officer with Huggy. He knew Huggy didn’t understand, but he was a good friend and he was always in his corner. Friends like that don’t come along very often and he cherished Huggy.
They let go and Starsky walked away to pick up his duffle bag, giving both teens a quick moment to brush at tears without embarrassing each other.
“See ya,” he said as he turned away from his friend.
Starsky climbed back out of the hideout without another word. He had no way of knowing how many years and miles would stretch between them before they met again. They didn’t see each other again until Starsky returned from Vietnam.
***
“There,” Bossier whispered, shining his flashlight beam on the trash that seemed to be disturbed. He shined it around on a trail of blood drops, following it to the wall with the opening in it.
Draper shushed him. “What do we do?” he whispered.
Bossier motioned him to approach the opening. “We know you’re in there!” he exclaimed.
***
“Shhhhh,” Starsky admonished when he sensed Callendar was about to speak. He had been snapped out of his memory by the sound of two men nearby having a quiet conversation. Starsky moved to the wall under the opening, followed by Callendar. They pressed themselves against that wall and crouched low. Maybe if the voices outside were followed by a flashlight search, they would be missed.
“You can’t get away, Callendar!” Bossier shouted.
Callendar held his tongue at Starsky’s gestures to do so.
“We’re coming in shooting!” Bossier exclaimed.
“Better not miss!” Starsky replied.
Suddenly, Bossier appeared in the hole with both his gun and his flashlight pointed right at Starsky. Callendar unexpectedly stood with his arms up in surrender. “I give,” he said, surprising Starsky.
Bossier could have taken his shot right then and there, but he did not.
Starsky swung into position, pointing his gun at Bossier. “Not so fast,” he said. “Callendar is under my protection.”
Before he could react, Bossier took aim and fired a shot just to the left of Starsky’s shoulder. The shot made little noise because the gun had a silencer, but the bullet pinged into the concrete and ricocheted into the room before burying itself in the wood from one of the crates.
“Freeze!” Bossier shouted, stilling Starsky’s movements. “The next one goes right between your eyes. Drop the gun.”
Reluctantly, Starsky complied. He was afraid to shoot without being able to see a target and he couldn’t really see with the man shining his flashlight in his eyes.
“Both of you turn around and move toward the back wall with your hands up. Kneel when you get there.”
Starsky and Callendar did as they were ordered. Starsky began a combination of prayer for forgiveness for personal sin and failings, and a prayer that his partner would make it through whatever he found when he reached this little hideaway.
The sound of the men behind him entering his former lair chased the last remaining hope from Starsky’s mind. When someone secured his hands behind him with rope, he was sure his time was finished and he silently contemplated what his death would do to Hutch. He was about to speak when something hit his head hard and he fell to the floor and sank into blackness.
***
Draper tied Calendar’s hands behind him the way he had done Starsky’s.
Bossier asked him, “Got anything you need it say before I send you to hell?”
Callendar nodded. “Don’t kill him,” he said.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Bossier replied.
“I’m not.”
Draper added, “He’s a cop. What’s it to you?”
“He’s not like the three of us. He’s an honorable man.”
The two other hit men laughed at that. Bossier pointed his gun at Starsky’s head and said, “Oh, so the cop’s got principles. That’s rich. We knocked him out to make it easier on him. What more do you want? Give me a good reason not to plug him first.” He knew he had no plan to hurt Starsky worse than he had. Bossier was mean, but he wasn’t stupid enough to defy Roper at the risk of his own life. Regardless, his vindictive nature made him take pleasure in messing with Callendar before he finished him.
“You’re gonna do whatever you want,” Callendar said. “Still, he risked his life to save his partner, he got in between me and Roper and probably saved his life, and then he risked his life again to keep a promise to me. When was the last time you two took that kind of risk for anyone, let alone an international hit man? Don’t kill him. He may come in handy for your boss someday.”
Bossier was dumbstruck to hear the same things Roper had said being said by the man who had come to murder his boss. He and Draper made eye contact briefly. Draper was shaking his head slightly and Bossier thought the other man looked scared that he was actually going to do it. He paused a few more moments before he lowered his weapon slightly and turned toward Callendar.
“Say hello to the devil,” he said. A single muffled shot to the head later, Callendar fell over dead next to Starsky.
Draper stood looking at the still unconscious cop and Callendar. “Better check,” he said. He knelt and felt for a pulse. All he got from Callendar was blood on his hand.
“I hit him pretty hard. Make sure the cop’s alive,” Bossier instructed.
Doing as he was told, Draper felt Starsky’s carotid and nodded.
As he stood, Draper said, “Thomas Callendar was a tough bastard with a reputation from here to Palermo. Never cared about anybody. What do you figure that cop said to get to him like that?”
Bossier put his gun back in its holster. His only reply was, “Shut up and let’s get out of here.”
Draper shrugged and followed Bossier out of the room that now smelled of gunpowder and blood. They were now in a hurry to get out of the tunnels before any rescuers could arrive.
***
The group of BCPD officers with Hutch was proceeding through the tunnels as quickly as they dared, while still maintaining a cautious edge. They had stopped twice to let Hutch catch his breath and only his steeliest don’t-even-think-about-it look kept them from trying to force him to go back to the command center that Captain Dobey had established to coordinate the search. Hutch was the senior officer, so they stood little chance of getting him to stand down short of him passing out on them.
Regardless of Hutch’s stubborn refusal to take it easy, the other officers had managed to get and stay in front of him. He knew he was in no shape to take the point position, but that didn’t stop him from resenting the situation.
Hutch knew that Starsky wouldn’t have dared to leave any kind of marker for him to follow, knowing that the bad guys could follow it just as easily. Still, he stretched out his feelings, trying hard to sense which way his partner had gone. With every change of direction, he feared he might have made the wrong choice.
At the next decision point, the officer out front pointed his flashlight at the ground and said, “I’ve got blood.”
“What?” Hutch asked, panting a little as he hurried to get to where the man was standing.
“It’s not much,” the officer said.
“Could be from either Starsky or Rawlins,” Hutch said. He pointed in that direction and they set off again. Hutch was struggling to stay near the front, when he heard a noise ahead that caused him to freeze. He put a hand up to stop the others behind him and ordered the men in front to stop.
“Get to the sides and kill the lights,” Hutch ordered. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but somehow he knew he was about to meet the men who were after his partner. “Wait for me to call it,” he said.
The other cops followed his orders. They hugged the walls on both sides of the tunnels and waited in silence as the sound of someone coming got louder. Before long, the sound of male voices was traveling down the tunnel toward them and then they saw flashlights.
BCPD’s finest were silent, waiting for the men coming toward them to be close enough for them to get the drop on them. When they were close enough, Hutch called out to the approaching men.
“Police!” he shouted. “Cut those flashlights and put your hands up!”
The other men turned their flashlights back on and pointed them ahead, illuminating two men who were not complying, but were reaching for weapons and diving for either side of the tunnel. The only answer they gave was a lead one.
The cops returned fire, and within a few chaotic seconds, the ringing noise of gunfire was dying, leaving nothing behind but the stinging smell of the brief gunfight.
The police advanced on the suspects, keeping their weapons trained and their flashlights on the unmoving men. A quick check revealed that one was dead, the other soon to follow. Hutch knelt beside Bossier as he gasped out his last breaths. He never got a chance to ask the dying man anything. Bossier smiled, blood bubbling on his lips and slipping down his chin from the corner of his mouth.
“You’re too late,” he said, gurgling and gasping.
Hutch grabbed his shirt with both hands and shook the dying man. “Why?” he demanded, knowing the light was leaving the man’s eyes and he would get nothing more from him. He let go, allowing the body to rest on the floor of the tunnel and hanging his head, worried about what the man’s dying statement meant for his partner. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he silently offered a prayer that Starsky wasn’t dead. After all they’d been through; he just wouldn’t accept that it could end that way.
“Hutch?” a voice behind him called.
“Yeah,” Hutch answered. “Leave them. We need to find Callendar and my partner.”
“I’ll stay,” one of the officers volunteered.
Another said, “I’ll backtrack and report this. Okay?”
“Thanks,” Hutch said. “The rest of you, let’s go.” He turned and started back in the direction they had been heading.
***
Rawlins, Huggy, and their group of officers had made their way back out of the first route they had attempted and over to where Rawlins had exited the tunnels. They were close to their goal when they thought they heard the muffled sounds of shouted voices followed by gunfire coming from the distance in the direction they were heading. They hastened their pace.
“Right or left?” Rawlins shouted, looking back over his shoulder at Huggy. They had come to a space that ended with two tunnels going in two different directions.
“Right!” Huggy answered.
The group of officers had successfully kept Starsky’s friend behind them so far, but Rawlins knew it was getting harder. They rushed through the tunnel until they spotted the concrete post with its odd collection of debris next to it. The search party’s flashlights found the same blood on the floor that the killers had discovered.
Huggy shouted, “Stop! I think this is it.”
The men all aimed their flashlights up the wall to look for the entrance. Huggy had told them what they should find. They all gasped when the light revealed not only the hole in the wall, but more blood that looked like it had come off of someone’s fingers while trying to climb out of the room they had been seeking.
“Oh, no,” Rawlins said. He felt sick to his stomach, fearing he was going to have to keep that promise he had made to look out for Starsky’s soon-to-be-devastated partner.
“Starsky!” Huggy called out, trying ineffectually to get through the other men to climb through to his friend.
No sound came from behind the wall.
“Police!” Rawlins shouted as he and the other cops pulled their weapons. “If there’s anyone in there, you’d better come out with your hands up!”
Taller than Hutch by two inches, what was chin high for Starsky was about at the top of Steve’s shoulders, making it easy for him to look inside without climbing. He motioned to his team and stepped to the side to approach the hole and get positioned to shine his flashlight into the room from an angle. What he saw in the beam of light made him feel like his heart had stopped. Both Callendar and Starsky were lying in so much blood, he had no doubt that they were both dead.
“Oh, my God,” he said.
Huggy successfully skirted the cops who were focused on Steve Rawlins, returning their weapons to their holsters as he was now doing.
Rawlins turned and blocked Huggy. “No,” he said.
“Let me in there!” Huggy argued.
“You can’t. It’s a crime scene now.” Rawlins shook his head at the other officers who were looking to him to confirm that their friend was in there.
“Please, man. I gotta know.”
“I’m sorry, Huggy. He’s gone. Don’t look in there. He wouldn’t want you to see him like that.”
“No,” Huggy said softly, “he can’t be. Are you sure?” His eyes were filling with tears.
“I’m sorry,” Steve repeated. He turned to the other officers and said, “Two of you go back up top and call for the crime lab and the coroner. See if they can reach Dobey. Don’t say too much over the air, but tell him he needs to find Hutch.”
Huggy brushed at his eyes and said, “Oh, God. He’s with Dobey. If I know Hutch, he’s joined in on the search.”
“I thought he was still too sick for that.”
“He is. When it comes to his partner, he’s not gonna let anything keep him out of the middle of it.”
Rawlins nodded. He put a hand on Huggy’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I know you were close.”
Huggy nodded. “Starsky was like a brother. He was my family, but he was half of Hutch’s soul.” His voice was breaking and a tear spilled out of his eye and ran down his cheek. “How can I tell him?”
Rawlins shook his head. “Let Captain Dobey do that. You just need to be there for him. You’re close to him, too, right?”
“Yeah. Damn it! This ain’t supposed to end like this!”
***
Officer Dale Hunter had gotten to a squad car and was waiting for Captain Dobey to come to the radio.
“Dobey, here,” the voice came through the radio.
“This is Hunter, Captain Dobey. We need you down here.”
“What’s happening?” Dobey asked.
Hunter wasn’t sure how to explain without saying too much over the air. “We found them. We’ve called for the crime lab.” He paused for a second too long and the captain’s voice barked at him over the radio.
“And? Go on! What do you have?”
“The coroner. We called for them, too,” Hunter answered, somewhat evasively.
A pause hung in the air for a few moments before the captain’s voice replied. “No ambulance?”
Hunter swiped at a tear in his eye. He was angry at himself that he was that close to crying, but he hated it when they lost a fellow officer. He had been on the force for twenty years and there had been too many men lost in the line of duty since then. “No, sir.”
“Give me your location,” Captain Dobey replied.
Before he gave it, Hunter asked, “Do you know where Hutch is”
“Yes. He’s in the tunnels on the search. Give me your location. I need to be there first.”
Officer Hunter described where they were. When Captain Dobey arrived, he escorted him to the execution scene and left the other officers to wait for the coroner and crime lab teams.
***
The group with Hutch had quickly headed in the direction the dead men had come from, and it didn’t take long before they could see there were lights in the distance. Following the light, they soon heard the sounds of men talking. They knew the killers were dead, but the other search party did not. They heard a shouted challenge as they got close.
“Police!” Rawlins shouted. “Cut the lights and identify yourselves.”
“Rawlins?” Hutch called out in reply, “It’s Hutch!”
Hutch had a moment of hope when he heard and then saw his banged-up colleague. If Rawlins was here and okay, maybe Starsky was, too. The look on Steve’s face immediately crushed that hope.
“Where’s Starsky?” Hutch demanded. That’s when he saw Huggy walking toward them.
Rawlins put a hand on Hutch’s arm and said, “Let’s go over there. Huggy and I need to talk to you.”
Hutch looked behind Rawlins and Huggy, seeing the other officers looking anywhere but at him.
“Why are you here, Huggy? Where’s my partner?” Hutch was afraid he knew the answer, but no one had said it.
Huggy took a deep breath. A tear slipped from his eye when he said it. “I’m sorry, man. We lost him.”
Hutch was so stunned he felt like the ground had dropped out from beneath him. He had little reserves left. The only thing that had kept him going was hope and Huggy’s words had just obliterated that. His ears started to ring and he shook his head, but all he said as a quiet, “No.”
Rawlins said, “I’m sorry, Hutch.”
“Callendar?”
“Dead.”
“Where is he?”
Huggy pointed and said, “Over there in our old hideout.”
Rawlins said, “We heard gunfire. What happened?”
“There were two of them,” Hutch answered. “Both dead.”
“Good,” Huggy said.
“I need to see him.”
Rawlins said, “Hutch, don’t. Wait ’til they bring them out.”
Hutch was struggling to keep from losing it and the place he went to do that was icy and determined. All he said was, “Now.”
Huggy nodded slightly and jerked his head toward the small room. Hutch followed him and Rawlins as they walked away from him. The other cops parted to let them through to the room. The coroner and crime lab team hadn’t arrived.
Hutch tried to hoist himself up to the ledge, but he didn’t have the strength. He wound up dropping back to his feet and he almost fell, but Rawlins caught and steadied him.
“Please sit for just a minute and catch your breath, okay?”
He wanted to argue, but Hutch’s legs felt like rubber. He allowed Rawlins to turn him so his back was to the wall, and help him sit. He pulled up his knees and rested his arms on them, dropping his head on his arms. Huggy squatted next to him and listened to him mutter, “He can’t be gone, Huggy. He can’t be. He can’t be dead because of me.”
“What kind of talk is that?” Huggy asked him gently.
“It’s true, Hug. If I hadn’t gotten sick, he’d have never made that promise.”
“You don’t know that! Other people were sick, including that little boy. You know what we were up against.”
“No, Huggy. He wouldn’t have done all that he did and now he’s dead because he was a man of his word.”
Huggy looked up at Rawlins and quietly said, “I’ve got him. Do what you gotta do.”
They sat like that for longer than Hutch realized. He felt sick and guilty and heartbroken. He barely noticed when someone put a can of soda in his hand, but he obeyed Huggy’s order to drink some. When the crime lab team arrived, he allowed Huggy to help him move to a different spot to give them access. He didn’t go far, but he did move. As much as he wanted to go to his friend, he agreed to rest there while the team took photos and gathered some evidence.
Captain Dobey arrived with the coroner. He went down on one knee to talk to his detective. “Hutch, are you all right?”
Without picking his head up. Hutch answered, “He’s dead because of me.”
The captain and Huggy exchanged a look. “I told him that’s not true,” Huggy said.
“Hutch, let’s get you out of here. One of the officers can take you and Huggy to your place.
This time Hutch picked up his head and looked at his captain with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m not going anywhere without him.”
As irrational as that probably sounded, he hoped the others would understand him.
Dobey didn’t argue. “All right. We’ll wait until they bring him out of there.” He tried to rise, but Hutch grabbed him by the wrist and stopped his movement.
“No, Cap. I need to do it.”
“Hutch—”
Hutch’s eyes were pleading and his voice started to break. “Please. He’s my partner.”
Dobey nodded. “Okay. I’ll go tell them you want to go in when they’re ready.”
“Thanks, Cap.”
Dobey left Hutch in Huggy’s care and Hutch assumed he was gathering information and giving orders so Hutch would get what he needed. When the time came for the team to go into the room to retrieve the bodies, Dobey returned to help Hutch to his feet.
Hutch accepted the help and endured the captain’s scrutiny. Even though he couldn’t read Dobey like he could his partner, he knew the captain was making final decisions about what would happen next.
“You sure you want to do this?” Dobey asked.
“Please. I have to. It’s the least I can do for him. Please.”
Any other time, Hutch would have just openly defied any order to the contrary under the circumstances. Unfortunately, he knew he was going to need help to get through this and do what he needed to do for his partner. For his conscience. For his sanity. He was too physically drained to do anything else.
“All right. Let me and Huggy help you get in there.”
Hutch preceded the others into the room after a boost up to the ledge. Lights were shining into the space, revealing the bloody crime scene. What he saw when he got a good look tore at his heart. “Ah, Starsk,” he said as tears slid down his cheeks. He didn’t register the other men entering behind him as he went to his partner. He also didn’t pay attention to the dead hit man lying with Starsky. His eyes were glued to his best friend. Starsky’s face was down toward the floor and there was blood everywhere. Hutch swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.
The first thing he wanted to do was untie Starsky’s hands. For some reason Hutch couldn’t or wouldn’t examine, seeing his friend’s hands bound like that infuriated him. If he could tap into that anger, maybe it would cut into the fathomless grief he was feeling. He knelt next to his friend and reached for the rope. What happened next was as heart stopping as anything he had ever experienced. Before he untied the rope, he put his hand on Starsky’s and it was warm. If he were dead, his body should be cooling.
Ignoring the rope, Hutch reached for Starsky’s carotid and was shocked to find a pulse. “Shit!” Hutch exclaimed. “He’s alive! Get an ambulance!” Starsky wasn’t dead he was unconscious.
The universe suddenly narrowed. Hutch untied his friend’s hands and checked him for injuries. The flurry of activity around him was minor background noise. Where a moment ago he was being crushed by loss, he was now simultaneously frightened and hopeful, especially when he realized that the blood on Starsky’s face was coming from an obvious blow to the head, not a bullet wound. He was also relieved to see that the grazing bullet wound on Starsky’s arm had bled a lot and it probably hurt like the dickens, but it should heal well.
Hutch was concerned by Starsky’s shallow breathing, but his pulse was strong and fast. He gently maneuvered his friend into a better position and tried to get him to come around for him. The fact that Starsky had been out for a long time and he wasn’t responding to him was concerning. Hutch forgot his own exhaustion, totally focused on his partner.
“I’m pretty scared here, buddy,” Hutch said to his unresponsive friend. “I thought I’d lost you. You can’t just go off and leave me. Come on, now. Please give me a sign, huh?”
Hutch took a flashlight and checked Starsky’s pupils, thankful when both responded to the light and were equal in size. He set the flashlight down and was relieved to hear his friend moan, almost inaudibly.
“That’s it, babe. Come on back to me.”
While he waited for medical assistance, Hutch tried coaxing, chiding, teasing, and cajoling to get Starsky to respond more while he silently prayed for his friend.
“You’d better pull through this or I’m gonna be stuck with that gaudy tomato of yours and you know what’ll happen. I’ll spill jelly on the seats and throw my empty coffee cups in the back without you there to fume about it.”
Throughout his monologue, Hutch did his best not to succumb to the fear that Starsky was in serious trouble. Why had he been spared and Callendar cleanly executed? He was talking softly and trying to get Starsky to wake up when he felt a gentle shake to his shoulder and he realized someone was speaking to him. A medic.
“We need to take him,” the man was saying.
Hutch was holding Starsky’s hand and he barely heard the man’s voice. “What?” he asked.
“We need to get him to the hospital so we can help him,” the man replied.
Hutch knew he needed to release Starsky to their care, but not before he said a few encouraging words. “Gimme a second.”
The man backed off slightly, giving him a chance to speak to his partner.
“Hey, buddy. They’re gonna take you to the hospital now. I’ll be right behind you. Don’t go anywhere without me, okay?”
He backed off and allowed the team to take his friend.
***
By the time Captain Dobey, Hutch, and Huggy reached the hospital, the area surrounding the emergency room was crawling with a mix of BCPD personnel and television station trucks. News that a local officer had been hurt in the line of duty drew the media out of the shadows before the officer’s condition was released. The police scanners had been abuzz with dispatches regarding the officer involved shooting of two now-dead suspects. That brought the media to Metro first, but when their scanners crackled with the need for an ambulance for a downed officer, they had shifted their encampment to the hospital where he had been taken. Since the captain’s car was unmarked, he was able to slip into the visitor garage undetected.
“Hutch, you and Huggy go on in through the main entrance first in case there are any reporters in the lobby. They’d be more likely to recognize me.”
“Thanks,” Hutch said. He and Huggy got out and headed toward the entrance.
Huggy put a hand on Hutch’s arm and said, “Take it slow, Blondie. You don’t need to be running anywhere, and if you go charging in like a bat out of hell, they’ll peg you before you make it to the front door.”
As hard as it was to walk at a normal pace, Huggy’s advice was sound. When they got close to the front, they saw through the glass that a few probable reporters were lurking in the lobby. Several uniformed officers were there in addition to hospital security, apparently keeping an eye on the elevators and the hall that led back to the emergency department.
“Straighten out your face, man,” Huggy said quietly.
“Do I look freaked?” Hutch asked.
“You might could say that. Your face don’t match the speed you’re walking, dig?”
Hutch had done enough undercover work to know how to hide his thinking and his emotional state. He stopped and closed his eyes briefly to cycle through his undercover personalities to find one that would help him get through the lobby without being stopped. He was in no mood to talk to reporters.
When he opened his eyes, Huggy looked at his face closely for a few seconds. “Much better. Rock and roll,” he said.
The reporters did look their way and Hutch thought one of them was suspicious. Unexpectedly, Huggy asked him in a voice loud enough for them to hear, “What room’s she in?”
Not missing a beat, Hutch said, “They didn’t tell me that. We can find out in admitting.”
The reporters took the bait and paid them no further attention as they headed toward the sign that read, “Admitting, Pre-Surgery, Emergency Room.” The hallway split off in two directions. When they turned to head down to the ER, one of the hospital security guards stepped in front of them.
“Just a minute, fellas. Admitting is down that other hall.” Obviously, he had heard them.
Hutch quietly reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge so just the security guard could see it. “Detective Ken Hutchinson,” he said quietly. “That was just a smoke screen.”
“Oh, sure. Go on back,” the guard said. He stood aside and let them pass, but stepped back to keep the reporters off their tails when one of them headed their way. He must have overheard the quiet exchange between the guard and Hutch.
Hutch picked up the pace and rushed down the long hallway toward the ER. He was winded and broken out in a cold sweat by the time he reached the admitting desk, but he couldn’t pay attention to that. His eyes were focused on the young woman behind the glass.
“Are you all right?” she asked before he had a chance to speak. He was pale, sweaty, and his clothes had Thomas Callendar’s dried blood on them.
“Fine,” Hutch replied. He took a few calming breaths to get his breathing back under control, but Huggy spoke up for him while he did that.
“He’s Detective Hutchinson and you have his partner here. Detective David Starsky.”
“Yes, we do,” she replied. She tried to hand him a clipboard with paperwork to complete, but he shook his head and pushed it back at her.
“I need to see him,” he said.
“The doctor is in with him now,” she said.
“I don’t care,” Hutch said, his voice rising a little. “He’s my partner and I need to see him.”
“You need to wait out here for the doctor.”
He raised his voice significantly and demanded, “Where?”
The poor girl jumped. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t let you back here now,” she said in a trembling voice.
Before he could yell at the cringing woman again, Hutch felt Huggy’s hand on his shoulder.
“Hutch, downshift. She’s just doing her job.”
An older woman in a nurse’s uniform walked over behind the admitting clerk and said, “Excuse me, what seems to be the problem?”
Hutch didn’t yell this time. “The problem is you have my partner back there and I need to be with him.”
The woman looked at him sympathetically. “Of course you do. Tell you what. If you’ll just take a seat for a few minutes, I’ll go get an update for you. Will you do that?”
Huggy didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Yes, ma’am.”
The admitting clerk tried to hand Hutch the clipboard again, but the other woman stopped her. “No need for that right now, Jennifer. We can take care of that later.”
“Okay,” Jennifer said.
Huggy steered Hutch to a chair as far away from the rest of the people in the waiting room as he could. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.
“My partner. Safe and okay. That’s all I want.”
“I know. Look, you don’t even have fumes to run on anymore. How about something to eat?”
“Not now.”
“Coffee?”
Hutch was exhausted and he readily agreed. “Sure. Black.”
“After all this time you think I don’t know how you want it?” Huggy asked.
Hutch smiled briefly at Huggy’s attempt to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Huggy.”
“Keep your pasty white butt in that chair ’til I get back here.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t have to call out the dogs. If I’m not here, I’m back there with him.”
After Huggy left, Hutch closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the wall. Physically, he was about spent. He had definitely overdone it from the moment concern set in when he realized Starsky was beyond late. His relief that Starsky was alive was running a close second to his sense of guilt over all that had happened. Before Huggy returned with the coffee, he had fallen into a restless sleep, complete with a bad dream. He was dreaming that Starsky had died before the ambulance came and he was holding onto him and saying it was his fault when he felt someone patting his arm and heard his name.
“Hutch? Hutch?” Captain Dobey said. “I’m done with the press now.”
“My fault.”
“Hutch, wake up.” Dobey shook Hutch’s arm a little and he woke with a start.
Hutch’s eyes opened and he tried to focus. “Cap?”
“You okay? You were talking in your sleep.”
Hutch shook off the bad dream and sat up straight in his chair. “Yeah. Guess I fell asleep.”
“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” Dobey asked.
“Huh?”
“You were saying that it was your fault.”
Hutch paused before answering. Finally, he said, “He’s here because of me.”
Before the captain could protest, the nurse who had intervened when Hutch tried to bite the desk clerk’s head off walked into the room and up to the waiting men.
“Doctor Gates will speak with you now. Please come with me.”
Hutch shook the cobwebs out of his head and followed her on shaky legs, fearful but intent on hearing what was happening with his partner.
***
The nurse led Hutch toward a treatment room. Before they got there, a doctor walked out of the room with a chart in his hand. He had a smile on his face.
“You must be Detective Hutchinson. I’m Doctor Gates.” He put a hand out for Hutch to shake.
Hutch shook the offered hand and said, “How’s my partner?”
“Lucky you found him. He’ll be all right.”
“Are you sure?” Hutch asked.
“I’m sure. I’ve cleaned and stitched the wound to his arm. He was unconscious for a long time and he has a moderate concussion. I want to keep him here for observation, but every time he comes around enough to talk to him, he asks for you and says he won’t stay.” Dr. Gales laughed. “He’s not going anywhere without assistance, so don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry?” Hutch said incredulously.
A voice behind him made Hutch turn immediately. “That’s what he said.”
“Judith!”
Dr. Judith Kaufman walked toward him. “Yes, I’m still here. I’ve been treating the last of the plague patients, so Dr. Meredith left me behind to wrap things up in Bay City.” When she was close enough, she put a hand on his forehead and said, “What are you doing? Dave promised me he’d keep you quiet and resting.”
“He’s hurt,” Hutch replied.
Judith hugged him and quietly said in his ear, “Shhh. I know. It’s okay.”
Doctor Gates said, “If you want, you can stay with him and wake him up every half hour to an hour. Even better, keep him awake and talking. We’ll evaluate again in,” he stopped and looked at his watch, “twelve hours. If he looks good, he can go home then.”
“Thanks, Doc. Can I go in there now?”
Doctor Gates nodded. “Of course. If he becomes unresponsive, get one of the nurses right away, okay?”
Judith held out her hand and said, “May I?”
Doctor Gates put Starsky’s chart in her hand and said, “Certainly,” before walking away leaving her alone with Hutch.
“Will you take a look at him?” Hutch asked. He trusted Judith. She nodded and turned to walk into the room with Hutch following.
Starsky’s eyes were closed when they entered. Judith pulled a chair over facing the bed and pointed at it with the clear message that Hutch should take up residence in it.
He sat down and took Starsky’s hand in his. “Hey, buddy,” he said.
Fluttering eyelids opened and dark blue eyes looked up at Hutch. They were obviously unfocused, but the squeeze to Hutch’s hand told him that his partner knew he was there.
“Hutch?”
“I’m here, babe. You’re okay.”
“You okay?”
Hutch laughed at that. “Funny question at this point.”
“S’posed to be resting.”
“Yeah, well it seems like maybe you needed me.”
Starsky’s eyes closed again and his grip went slack. Before Hutch could react to that, Judith put a hand on his shoulder.
“I know you’re nervous, but he’s going to be okay. Let him rest a while. Wake him up again in half an hour.”
“Okay. Thanks for being here.” He let go of Starsky’s hand and sat back in his chair closing his eyes and sighing deeply. He ran a hand down his face and when he opened his eyes, he was immediately aware he was being scrutinized.
“What?” he asked.
“You have a low-grade fever and you’re wheezing. Let me listen.” Judith pulled her stethoscope out of her pocket and put the earpieces in so she could listen to Hutch’s chest.
“I’m fine. Just take a look at his chart and make sure he’s okay for me.”
“Hm. Looks like he’s in good hands here and he won’t be too happy when he’s aware enough to know what you’ve been doing all day instead of resting. Be a good boy and let the doctor have a listen.”
Hutch couldn’t argue with her logic, so he set his jaw and nodded his agreement.
Judith listened and muttered and clucked at what she heard. Finally, she said, “Okay, Mister. I’m calling in a different med for you. The most strenuous thing I want you to do for the next twelve hours is rest in that chair, hold your partner’s hand, and wake him up every thirty minutes to an hour. Are we clear?”
Hutch’s mouth had dropped open when she started in on him and he wasn’t sure what to say. He thought of a couple of caustic retorts and a couple of more contrite ones, but in the end, he went with, “That’s Detective, not Mister.”
Judith smiled at him and said, “Feel free to choose your honorific as long as you do what the doctor orders. Got it?”
Hutch smiled back at her. “Yes, ma’am, er, Doctor.” He pointed at Starsky and said, “Now will you turn your eagle-eyed focus on the patient with the concussion, please?”
Obligingly, after she called the pharmacy for Hutch, Judith looked at Starsky and his chart, relieving Hutch by her concurrence with the Emergency Room physician’s assessment. When she was finished, the time had come to wake him up again.
“Dave,” Judith said as she shook his shoulder. “I need you to wake up for me.”
Starsky didn’t stir right away, which caused Hutch to sit up straighter in his chair and join in the effort. “Starsk? Hey, you in there?”
Judith tried again. “Dave? Open your eyes for a few minutes and then you can rest some more.”
Starsky turned his head toward her voice and opened his eyes with great effort. “Huh?” he asked.
“Good job; focus now,” Judith answered.
Clearly confused about where he was and what was happening, Starsky asked, “Can you still use his blood?”
Judith checked his pupils and said, “It’s okay.”
“Hutch?”
“I’m right here, buddy. You’re safe.”
Starsky looked pale. “Oh, I don’t feel so good.”
“You have a head injury, Starsk, but you’re okay.”
“Where am I?”
“You’re in the hospital. Don’t you remember?”
Judith mouthed, “He’ll be fine,” to Hutch, then she left the room.
“Uh-uh. Where?”
“Hospital,” Hutch repeated.
Starsky looked at him and his eyes opened wider, “I’m not staying here. Hutch?”
“Relax, buddy. Try to rest.”
“You okay?” he asked again.
Hutch smiled at him. “I am now.”
***
“What!” Roper shouted, wincing with pain from the tightening in his abdominal muscles. He struggled to his feet and took a few steps toward the messenger. His face was turning from pale to red. He was instantly enraged.
“Uh, our man at Metro says the radio squawks are reporting two victims, one is an officer down.”
Roper’s body man had called the station for him to see what was happening when they had heard nothing for many hours. “You get back on the horn and find out if it’s Starsky. It those idiots killed him anyway, I’ll see to it that they don’t go as quick as he did.”
“Yes, boss.”
After the man scurried from the room, Roper’s personal physician stepped over to help him back into the bed and said, “You need to calm down.”
“Calm down?” Roper asked, his tone oozing sarcasm. “I gave those sons-of-bitches a direct order not to permanently harm him. I wasn’t kidding around.”
“I know, but you’re not healed enough to put this kind of strain on your body.”
Roper reluctantly allowed the man to help him settle back onto the bed. He would rather pace, but he was in no shape for that.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouted. “Son of a bitch!”
The physician adjusted Roper’s smoking jacket enough to get a good listen at his heart and lungs. He shook his head and said, “I’m going to have to insist that you stay in bed. You can get up to use the toilet. If you don’t heed my advice, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens.”
The healing man glared at him. “Nobody tells Roper what to do.”
The doctor furrowed his brow and said, “Your physician does. I’m only telling you what you need to do to make sure you completely recover. That’s my job.”
The fact that the man didn’t fear him had always impressed Roper. He was right. His doctor and his lead attorney were the only two men who had the right to give him orders. “Yeah, all right. I’ll stay in bed.”
“Good. Now, I’m going out to get you a muscle relaxer for these spasms you’re having and something to calm down your stomach. Keep it up and you’re going to have an ulcer on top of your other issues. I’ll be back within an hour. Rest!”
As he left, the body man was returning. Roper didn’t like the nervous look on his face. “He says it’s Starsky, boss. He’s dead.”
Roper closed his eyes for a moment and worked to keep his composure; all the while acid was trying to climb up to his throat. When he had his anger tamped down to a simmer, he opened his eyes.
“Send as many men as you need to find Bossier and Draper. Bring those two idiots back here to me alive. While you’re gone, I’ll be thinking about how I’m going to ice ’em. Slowly and painfully. After you give the orders, come back here.”
Even mob bosses had a value stream and Roper’s two hit men had violated his. He had told them it was a matter of honor. Little was more important to him than keeping the code. Not only was it part of the code not to kill clean cops, his sense of noblesse oblige made him want to spare Starsky in particular. He asked his nurse to turn on the television so he could watch for any news on the shootings.
As time ticked by, he grew increasingly angry when the television reports said the shooting victims were killed in a mob style hit. He was so exasperated he was about to tell the nurse to tum it off when he heard an update.
“Breaking news from the Bay City Police Department continues this hour,” the reporter was saying.
“Tum that up,” Roper ordered.
“Two men believed to be responsible for the shootings are being reported dead after a brief gun battle with Bay City police.”
“Good. Stupid bastards. Saves me the trouble.”
The reporter paused for a few seconds. “What’s that?” He was handed a piece of paper and his eye grew wide with surprise as he read it.
“I’ve just been given an update on the shooting victims. Only one is confirmed dead. The police officer we previously reported as deceased is apparently alive and being taken to the hospital for emergency treatment. We will continue to update you until we sign off the air tonight.”
Roper was stunned. Relieved and stunned. “Thank God,” he said. His body man had returned some time ago. Roper had additional orders for him. “Call off the search. Find out what hospital Starsky’s at and send someone down there to keep an eye on things and keep me updated.”
He sat back against the pillows behind him and closed his eyes again. As he ran things over again in his mind, he couldn’t help but chuckle. A wry grin accompanied his comment out loud to no one in particular. “Roper is relieved that a cop isn’t dead. That’s rich. Who would have imagined?”
***
“Thank God,” Dobey said.
Hours earlier Hutch had told them that Starsky would be fine and they could leave, but when they were nine hours into the twelve, he went out to get some coffee and the captain and Huggy were still in the waiting room. The other officers had returned to duty, assured by Captain Dobey that Starsky was going to be all right. When it became obvious that the story had played out, even the reporters had grown bored and left.
“I appreciate you both staying, but he’s really going to be fine. Just a few more hours and I can take him home,” Hutch said.
“Uptown as that news is, how you planning to do that if we go?” Huggy asked.
That had not occurred to Hutch. He had no way to get Starsky home on his own without calling for a cab and he knew they were not going to allow that. Even if they went to his place and got his car for him, he was in no shape to drive and it was out of the question to think that Starsky could.
“I guess expecting him to thumb a ride isn’t a good plan.”
“Definitely not,” Dobey answered.
“How’s Rawlins?” Hutch asked the captain.
“He’s fine. They sent him home hours ago to rest.”
“Good news.” Hutch was glad Dobey had insisted Rawlins be checked out at the hospital.
Huggy said, “How ’bout if Captain Dobey takes me home for a couple hours shuteye. I’ll come back after that to get you two.”
“Sounds good,” Dobey said. Hutch thought he was looking pretty tired. “Call to let me know he’s out and you’re home.”
“How are you doing?” Huggy asked. “Your compadre ain’t the only one who’s not firing on all cylinders.”
As he opened his mouth to answer, Dobey interrupted and said, “The truth, Hutch. Don’t just shine us with your standard, ‘I’m fine, let’s focus on Starsky,’ response.”
Huggy added, “Honestly, you look like the cats have had you under the house, dig?”
Hutch stared at them, a little color creeping into his face because that was exactly what he had thought to say. He had to laugh at Huggy’s comment. “Well, since my usual won’t do, I guess I can tell you that I feel like shit and once I get him settled, I plan to sleep for a day or three.”
Judith had come out to talk to them about both Starsky and Hutch hours ago and had asked one of them to run down to the pharmacy to pick up the new medicine and get it to Hutch. She had actually prescribed two medications to help with the wheezing and congestion in his lungs.
“Did you take the new medicine?” Dobey asked.
“When did you get so nosey, Cap?” Hutch asked with a smirk.
“When your partner got clonked on the head hard enough to not be able to watch out for you for a while. Did you take it?”
“I took it. The damn steroid made me feel kind of antsy.”
“Kinda hard to believe you can be wired and pooped at the same time,” Huggy said.
“Leave it to doctors.”
“Even pretty ones from Disease Control?” Dobey teased.
Blushing again, Hutch said, “Go on, get out of here. Huggy, I’ll call you at your place when I know they’re cutting him loose. Catch some z’s.”
Hutch was both glad and sorry to see them go. Their questions let him know how badly he was hiding how weak and tired he felt. If he couldn’t fool them, he was surely not going to fool his best friend when he was finally aware enough to get a good look at him. Despite feeling somewhat wired, he hoped coffee would do him some good. Before he left to get it, he had something else he felt obligated to do.
The desk clerk he had barked it was just getting her sweater on and picking up her purse to leave. She had already put in some overtime, which was the only reason she was still there.
Hutch walked up to the desk. “Excuse me,” he said. “Jennifer?” He remembered that was what the nurse had called her.
“I’m off,” she said a little curtly then she started to turn away from him.
“Please give me just a minute.”
Jennifer turned back and set her purse down, looking at him without saying another word.
“I need to apologize for the way I acted earlier. I know feeling bad and worried about my partner is no excuse. I yelled at you, and I was out of line.”
Jennifer smiled at him and said, “No, that’s not an excuse, but that is a nice apology. I’m not sure I can remember anyone else who has yelled at me ever bothering to apologize. Thank you for that. You’re forgiven.”
Hutch smiled back. “You’re a peach.”
“He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” she asked.
“Probably more than he knows.”
“That’s nice. Wait there,” she said. Jennifer walked around the desk and disappeared from sight until she came out through the door that led from the back into the waiting room. “You look pretty exhausted,” she said when she reached him.
“I’m okay. I was just going to find some coffee.”
“I could use some myself. I have to go to school from here. Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all. My partner’s resting. I don’t want to be gone too long, but I could use the company while I go down there.”
“I’ll show you where it is.”
They started walking and Hutch replied, “Sadly, you don’t need to do that. I’ve been here with him more times than I care to remember. I know where it is.”
“Oh. Is he accident prone?”
Hutch laughed at that. “Not overly. He just has his hands full watching out for me and the work we do is dangerous.” He paused and thought for a moment before he continued. “Of course. there was that time he cold cocked himself when he was working under his sink. And there was the time he needed several stitches because he sliced his thumb open when a box cutter slipped.” He laughed again. “Maybe he’s a little bit accident prone. His mother prefers to say he has always been very busy.”
She laughed, too. “I have an older brother like that. He has a partner, too. Doug is a sort of a cop.”
“Sort of a cop?”
“He’s an FBI agent.”
“Oh, that’s pretty cool. Does he work in Washington?”
“Uh-huh. I don’t know exactly what he does. I guess it’s kind of secret. I do know he has a partner he’s more attached to than he is to anyone outside the family. They’re closer than brothers.”
“I understand that.” Hutch’s thoughts turned inward again and they walked on in silence until they reached the cafeteria. He held the door open for Jennifer.
“Thank God there’s always fresh coffee down here,” she said. “I take it you’ve tried the coffee in the machine in the E.R. waiting room.”
Hutch shuddered and replied, “That stuff’s worse than what we have at the station and the guys like it pretty stout. No thanks.”
After they got their coffee and paid for it, Hutch said, “I’d like to stay and talk, but I need to get back and check on him. Can I at least walk you to your car?”
“That would be nice. Thanks!”
They left the cafeteria and she led the way to where staff parked their cars while they finished their visit.
“You said you were going to school. What are you studying?”
“I’m a nursing student,” she said.
“Aren’t you too tired for a class after being on shift for so long?”
“I’m pretty tired, but I’m used to it. I just have one early morning section to attend and then I can go home and crash.”
“When do you graduate?”
“Next June. I can’t wait.”
“I’ll bet you can’t. What area do you want to work in once you’re done?”
“I think I want to be a trauma nurse, but we’ll see. I like working in the Emergency Room. Always lots going on there and I sometimes get to meet a nice, handsome police officer.”
Hutch blushed all the way to his ears. “That’s one of those unadvertised benefits I guess.”
When they reached her car, Jennifer said, “Thanks for walking me and for the cup of coffee. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Least I could do for you after I acted like such an ass. Good thing that nurse intervened. I was just getting cranked up. Still, I don’t make a habit of yelling at pretty women.”
Jennifer threw her purse on the passenger seat and turned back toward him. “I hope you won’t think this is too forward, but I don’t have time to be coy. I like you. I’m too busy with school to date or even go out for coffee. Look me up here after June it you’re interested. I’ll be ready to go out after pretty much four years of no time for that.”
Hutch nodded. She had put out a hand to shake his. He took it and said, “I’ll remember.”
She got in her car and rolled down the window while she started it. “Hey, what’s your first name, Detective Hutchinson?” She laughed. “I guess we were so busy talking, we didn’t get to that.”
“Ken. We work out of Metro. Homicide division. Now you know where to find me in case I forget after June.”
Her smile faded as she nodded and said, “Jennifer DeMonte. Take good care of your partner and you be careful, too.”
“I will. See you around, Jennifer.”
She pulled away and he watched her go for a few moments before he turned back toward the hospital, lost in thought.
***
“Wake up for me now, Dave.”
Starsky climbed back to wakefulness in response to his name being called, by someone other than Hutch. He opened his eyes and focused on the face.
“Judith,” he said.
“How’s the head?”
Before he answered, Starsky looked over at the empty chair by the bed. “Where’s Hutch?”
“That’s not an answer to my question and I don’t know.”
“Is he okay?”
“I’m sure he just went for some coffee. Now, how’s your head?”
“Hurts. You sure he’s okay?”
Judith sighed. “He’s not ‘fine’ yet by any stretch. I won’t insult you by telling you he is. I can tell you that I believe he will be. I’ve given him some new medicine. He needs rest. If he takes his medicine and gives himself time to recover, he’ll be all right.”
Starsky blinked hard a few times and looked at the doctor with slightly unfocused eyes. “You said he was done with the plague.”
“I promise he’s over that. I need you to help him get over the residual illness. Understand?”
Starsky nodded. “When can I get out of here?”
“When you can stay awake and when you only see one of everything.”
“Oh, that. I’m okay.”
Judith held up two fingers and said, “Okay, Hot Shot, how many fingers do you see?”
Starsky tried to focus, but wasn’t able to do it. He closed his eyes. “Fine,” he said “I’m pretty sure you don’t have four up, so you got me.”
Judith patted him on the arm. “You’re getting there. Much better than a few hours ago when you couldn’t string two or three words together.”
He nodded, but his eyes closed as he started to slide out again.
“Hey, stay with me now. You need to if you want to go home and take care of your partner.”
Starsky rallied and opened his eyes again. “I’m a’right.”
“That’s it. Talk to me until he gets back. It’ll do you good.”
“Help me sit up a little, okay?”
Judith helped and Starsky settled back against the pillows. She sat down in the chair and smiled at him. “Maybe sitting up a little will help.”
“Maybe. Thanks for sitting with me.”
“My pleasure. I know your vision is still off. How about nausea?”
“Not bad. At least I stopped having the spins.”
“Definitely an improvement. I want to be able to tell Hutch you’re on the mend.”
Now Starsky smiled. “Never better.”
They sat together in silence for a few minutes before Starsky said, “Like I said before, you know he’s crazy about you.”
“I know.”
“So, how about it?”
“How about what?”
Starsky frowned at her and said, “Can a pretty doctor have feelings for an ordinary cop?”
“Now, Hutch is anything but ordinary.”
“Agreed. He’s special. He’s also my best friend and I’d hate to see him hurt.”
Judith looked at him for a while. “I’d never want to hurt him. He’s not ordinary. He’s extraordinary.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I’m already in a relationship.”
“Oh. I didn’t know. He doesn’t, either.”
“Not many people do.”
“Is he a doctor, too?”
Judith paused. “No, an attorney.”
“Hutch will understand that. I guess he just thought you seemed kind of available.”
“Well, I’m not. I have something to tell you. I need you to promise me you’ll break it to him gently and not ’til I’m gone. Okay?”
“Sure. What is it?”
Starsky listened patiently and discussed the situation with Judith. He agreed that it was information that would be best left for him to convey at the right time. Over the course of their conversation, his vision improved. He finally could see only one of everything.
“Don’t worry about him,” Judith said. “This may come as a shock, but he has what he needs to get past it. He has you.”
“Yeah, he does. I’ll handle it.”
“Thanks, Dave. You only get to have one soul mate in life. You’re his and he’s yours. Most people don’t get that lucky.”
Starsky was about to respond to that when Hutch came in. He thought he looked like he might fall over at any moment.
“Hey, buddy. You’re awake.”
Judith stood and steered him into the chair. “Sit down before you fall down. He’s doing great. Try to keep him awake for a while longer.”
“Feeling better?” Hutch asked.
“Batting a thousand, partner. How about you?”
Judith interrupted. “I can see you’re in good hands now, so I’ll just leave you two alone. I’ll come back to check on you in a couple of hours. Maybe you’ll be ready to go home by then. Let us know if he loses ground. It’s okay if he sleeps, but make sure he stays coherent when he’s awake.”
“Damn, I’m screwed,” Starsky said.
Hutch laughed at that. “I will. Thanks, Judith.”
She left the partners alone. Starsky was focused enough to see how pale and shaky his best friend was. He scooted over and patted the bed. “Climb in,” he said.
“I love ya, buddy, but you’re not my type.”
“You’re gonna fall out of that chair and then we’ll be in a pickle.” Starsky patted the mattress again and lifted the sheet.
Two hours later when Judith came to check if Starsky was ready to be released, the partners were both sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed. Their faces finally looked relaxed.
***
“Thanks again,” Starsky said as Huggy left Hutch’s place. He had insisted they go there, remembering Judith’s prescription that Hutch rest and take his medicine to complete his recovery.
“I really am okay, Starsk,” Hutch said. “You’re the one recovering from a head injury and a gunshot wound.”
“Buddy, you’re only on the road to okay. Judith said you need to rest and take your medicine and I’m here to make sure you do it. I’m fine.”
“I already have a mother,” Hutch snapped. He walked into the kitchen and started to make a pot of coffee. Loudly.
Starsky was worried about him. The two hours of sleep Hutch had gotten in the hospital were not enough. He needed to rest and Starsky was struggling with how to convince him to do it with him not at full strength. He didn’t have long to think about it. The kitchen had grown quiet when he heard the sound of something hitting the floor and breaking. He got to his feet and hurried in to see what was happening.
Hutch had a white knuckled grip on the counter. A broken mug lay at his feet. He started to sag just as Starsky reached him.
“Easy, boy,” Starsky said, steadying his partner before he joined the broken mug on the floor of his kitchen.
“Sorry,” Hutch muttered. “Guess it slipped.”
Putting an arm around his waist, Starsky took some of Hutch’s weight despite the extra pounding the effort brought to his aching head and arm. “You’re going horizontal right now, partner,” he said.
Hutch offered no resistance as Starsky got him in bed and covered with a quilt. “Don’t fall asleep yet. You need to take your medicine.” Starsky made sure he took it before he dropped off to sleep.
***
The morning found Hutch waking to the sound of his partner knocking about in the kitchen. He got up to go to the restroom and when he came back out, he was immediately ordered back to bed. Starsky appeared with breakfast a little while later.
“I’m supposed to be looking after you,” Hutch said as Starsky brought a plate of toast and eggs to him.
“I’m fine. My head feels better today, but you’re still recovering from a plague that nearly killed you. Humor me.” He put the plate in Hutch’s hands and watched with satisfaction as he ate. When he was finished, Starsky took the empty plate into the kitchen.
When he returned, Hutch was still leaning up against the headboard. He scooted over and patted the mattress saying, “We need to talk.”
Starsky sat down facing him. “What about?”
“Hm,” Hutch started. “How about we start where you put your life in danger trying to escort Callendar to the airport.”
“I gave him my word, Hutch. I told you all about that.”
“What did Dobey think?”
“He allowed it. I made that promise with Dobey’s approval when you were just hours away from too far gone for it to matter if we found him. We were both willing to take the chance.”
“You made a deal with the devil to save me.”
Starsky put his hand on Hutch’s ankle. “Yes, I did and I’d do it again. The price was worth it and it didn’t just save you.”
After an uncomfortable pause, Hutch asked, “Do have any idea how I would have felt if you’d died?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Babe, I was watching you die through that glass. You were slipping away from me minute-by-minute and it was tearing me apart. I knew how I would feel if I didn’t try everything.” Starsky’s eyes were wet and he had a hitch in his voice when he said, “I wouldn’t have given up until you took your last breath. Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”
Hutch shook his head slightly. “I can’t. I know I would have.”
“It’s not a lot different than the way we put our lives on the line for each other every time we go to work.”
“No, Starsk. When we’re on the job we watch each other’s backs. You went out on your own without me there to back you. I didn’t even know you’d gone.”
“I’m sorry, partner. You weren’t in a position to go with me. I took Steve and he did a good job. Not as good as you, but he had me covered until we had to split up. The thing that really bothers me is how they knew and how fast they knew.”
Before he could respond, Hutch was stopped by a tooth-rattling shiver. Starsky got up immediately and fussed over him to get him to lie down and he covered him with the quilt again. He put a cool hand on Hutch’s forehead.
“You’re clammy, but you don’t have a fever. I’ll be right back with your pills.”
Hutch curled over on his side and wrapped his hands up in the quilt, drawing it closer while he waited. After he took his medicine, Starsky left him to rest while he went and made him some hot tea to help chase away the coldness he couldn’t seem to shake.
When he tried to leave him again to rest, Hutch said, “Don’t go. I need to tell you something.”
“Shoot.”
“I thought you were dead. We all did. I know we’ve had some close calls, but this was different. You were lying in that room and they wouldn’t let me go in there until they finished taking pictures and gathering evidence.”
“Aw, Hutch. I’m sorry you went through that. I’m just glad you figured out I wasn’t dead before they hauled me out of there in the meat wagon.”
“That’s not funny. I couldn’t believe you were dead because of me.”
Starsky smiled at him. “You know you could give lessons to my grandmother in feeling guilty.”
Hutch snorted. “Okay, that was funny, but don’t change the subject. You scared me.”
“I really am sorry for that, Hutch. You know, I thought I was a goner. They tied our hands and had us both on our knees. I remember sending out a thought to you, expecting any second to be my last. I think I was gonna say something, but they must’ve hit me with something and down I went. Why do you suppose they didn’t finish me with Callendar?”
“Fear of killing a cop? Did you ever see their faces?”
“No. They had a light in my eyes and then they were behind me.”
“Well, whatever the reason, I’m just glad I got you back, partner.”
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Stay put,” Starsky ordered. “I’ll get it.”
When he opened the door, he found a deliveryman with a large floral arrangement in his hands. “For Detective Ken Hutchinson,” he said.
Starsky took them with his thanks and brought them to show Hutch.
“Wow,” Hutch said. “Is there a card?”
After he set them down, Starsky handed the card to his partner. Hutch had an odd almost nauseated look on his face. “What’s wrong? Who are they from?”
“I, uh, I’m not certain, but I think I have a good guess.”
“What does it say?”
“It says, ‘You’re welcome. Remember,’ and it’s signed A.R.”
“A.R.? A.R.”
They both realized who A.R. was simultaneously. “Anthony Roper!”
***
Over the next week, Hutch improved steadily. As he felt better, he was in such a good mood, he did not chafe under Starsky’s constant vigilance and occasional nagging to take it easy. When the time had come for Dr. Kaufman to leave, Starsky gladly chauffeured her to the airport with Hutch along to say goodbye. He had not been outside his apartment for longer than it took to go for a checkup with Judith in several days.
Saying goodbye to Judith wasn’t hard on Hutch. Starsky could tell he was a little disappointed, but he was still in a great mood. On the way out to the car he had been talking nearly nonstop, which was unusual enough. In addition, he was more relaxed than Starsky could remember seeing him in quite a while. That made him smile.
Hutch stopped in the open door of the Torino and said, “What are you smiling at?”
“Oh, just you. Those people from Azer-bay-whatever you keep mentioning. You looking so great.”
“I thought you just told me I wasn’t ready for the big leagues.”
“You’re not. Not just yet, but you will be. No more setbacks. Judith said you should be okay to go back to at least desk duty on Monday.”
Hutch’s smile got even broader. “I know! I already made an appointment with the department doc. I’m ready to rejoin the world, buddy.”
They both got into the car. Starsky turned the engine over and said, “The world wouldn’t be the same without you in it, partner.”
After they pulled out of the parking lot, they drove for several minutes in silence. Starsky soaked up the joy of having his partner back in the shotgun seat, even if they were just headed back to Venice Place so the “big blond beauty” could get in a nap. Hutch was alive to fight another day. Nothing he could think of seemed sweeter.
“Hey,” Hutch said.
“Hey.”
“You okay?”
“I’m terrific. You?”
“I’m great. Feels good to be out in the tomato.”
Starsky grinned. “Aw, how touching. You missed her.”
Hutch’s smile faded, but he nodded and said, “I did. Don’t let it go to her head.”
After a few more minutes, once again Hutch said, “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Don’t go straight back to my place.”
“No?” Starsky glanced at him. He was looking a little tired. “You don’t need to be out running around, buddy. What do you have in mind?”
“Beach.”
“Need to talk?”
“Yeah. Please?”
“Should I be worried?”
“No, no. Nothing bad. I haven’t seen the water in forever and I’ve got things to say.”
“Okay, but you tell me if you need to go home.”
Hutch laughed at that. “I won’t have to tell you, Eagle Eye. I can’t get one block down Wilting Avenue before my caretaker notices.”
Starsky knew his friend was absolutely correct. No nurse could have been as vigilant as he had been. He was still having troubling dreams and nightmares about Hutch succumbing to some unforeseen complication of his illness. When Hutch was cleared to return to active duty, he would feel good about ceasing his vigil. He turned the Torino toward the beach. When they got there, he parked the car and let Hutch take the lead on where they were going. He followed suit when his partner sat on the seawall and swung his long legs around to the other side so he was facing the ocean.
After a few moments, Hutch said, “Huggy told me you wanted to hock the Torino. I would have sworn you would rather sell a kidney than the car.”
“Guess I didn’t think of that. And here I thought I was the brains of the outfit.”
Hutch continued. “Huggy told me about how you crashed for an entire day at the hospital ’cause you hadn’t slept in something like three days. I’m surprised you were functioning.”
“I wasn’t. I think my clothes were all that kept me from crumbling. My clothes and hope, really.”
“I just want you to know how much what you did means to me. I haven’t had a chance to say thank you.”
Starsky was sitting so close to him; he leaned over and put an arm around his shoulders. “Remember the professor or Simon Marcus?”
Hutch paled a little and nodded. “You know I do.”
“You’ve done the same for me, Hutch. You know I would have given anything to save your life. It’s what we both do.”
They sat and watched the waves a while, sometimes silent, sometimes chatting about things that had happened or things they planned to do. After another silent period, Starsky decided it was time to tell his best friend what Judith had shared with him.
“You doing okay?”
“Yeah, I’m great. My glass is three quarters full. You okay?”
“I’m better than okay. I got you back and you’re gonna be fine. What would make me not okay?”
“Feels to me like you have something you need to tell me.”
“You know it’s a big responsibility to know someone so well.”
“Really. Go ahead and lay it on me. We can just sit here a while longer and talk ’til you decide I’m too cold or too something.”
That got a laugh out of Starsky. “Okay. You don’t look too far from that already.”
“To quote my best friend, ‘Should I be worried?”‘
“No, it’s really not bad. I’d say it’s more like unexpected, but important for you to know.”
“Give.”
“Hutch, what I need to tell you about has to do with Judith.”
“Uh-oh. Can I guess?”
“You’ll never guess.”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty smart and I am a detective.”
“Yeah, big guy, you are. We both are and I never would have guessed this, either.”
Hutch’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head like he was trying to hear something almost too faint to detect. “This wouldn’t have something to do with why she seems immune to the Hutchinson charm does it?”
“I’ll give you credit for knowing what neighborhood we are about to enter. Yes.”
“I just figured she was a career lady and I don’t fit there.”
“Not entirely. This is something else.”
“Don’t tell me she’s really a nun.”
Another laugh. “No, not a nun. Care to make any other guesses?”
“She’s really a man.”
“Nope. One more try.”
“She’s married. Oh, man, is she married?”
“Sort of. Hutch, she has a partner.”
“A partner? You mean like another doctor she practices with?”
Starsky chalked up his buddy’s lack of ability to noodle out what he meant by that to his still recovering state. He would have gotten it immediately if he was operating at normal capacity. Judith had asked him to break it to him gently, but there really wasn’t any way to handle this other than honestly and candidly.
“No, I mean a partner partner, partner.”
Hutch looked at him with that facial expression Starsky new meant he was still perplexed, but the light bulb was beginning to burn. Then, his eyes opened wider and he said, “Oh. Oh! No way, really?”
“Way. Buddy, this is a huge secret. Judith doesn’t tell anyone and she was worried about telling me. You know she works for the feds and they wouldn’t be likely to take that information in stride. She thinks she could get fired because of it.”
“You’d think in her line of work people would be more open to that kind of thing than they are in our world.”
Yeah, but not when you work for the feds. She wanted you to know, so you wouldn’t just think she had rejected you without giving you an explanation and she just couldn’t do it. She asked me to break it to you gently after she was gone.”
“Guess I was completely off base. I thought she kind of liked me back.”
“That’s just it. She did like you back. In fact, she said you came pretty close to getting her to try swinging the other direction. She said that wouldn’t have been fair to you or to her partner and she couldn’t do something that disloyal to her anyway. In the end, everyone would have been hurt.”
“Wow. I’m stunned. You’re right, I never would have guessed. Thanks for telling me. I’m sorry she didn’t feel like she could tell me herself, but I guess I understand. Wow.”
“Life is full of twists and turns, I guess. You okay?”
“Sure. I’m kind of disappointed, but I’m all right. What else? You still look like there’s something else.”
“She said you had everything you needed without her anyway once you were out of danger.”
Hutch paused, appearing to let that soak in before he said, “Because I have you, right?”
“That’s what the doctor said.”
“Pretty astute, huh?”
“Who are we to argue with the highly educated? I guess you just can’t always tell, can you?”
“That’s not very enlightened, Starsk.”
“I didn’t mean that like that sounded.”
Hutch snorted. “Sounded like you expect to be able to tell by looking at them.”
“I thought that’s what you thought. No. I meant you just can’t always tell what life’s gonna throw at you. Like this plague thing. Who would’ve thought in a million years that an international hit man would come to town and you would get a deadly virus from him and almost die. To top it off, you would meet a pretty doctor you really liked who turns out to be a lesbian and pretty much immune to your charm and your vulnerable upper lip. Don’t give me that look; her words, not mine. She also said you look like a little boy when you’re sleeping.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you really do sometimes. Especially when you’re sick.” Starsky patted him on the arm and said, “You really are getting cold. Let’s get you inside.”
Hutch nodded. As he turned around back toward the sidewalk and stood, he said, “Did Judith say anything else I need to hear?”
“Nope. I think that’s enough, don’t you?”
“Plenty.”
As they backed out of the parking space, Hutch said, “You’ve had to tell me some pretty heavy stuff over the years, but that was in its own category, partner.”
“I know. Sort of in Huggy’s ‘don’t that beat all’ category, right?”
Hutch laughed. “Accurate.”
After another minute or two, Hutch said, “If you want to take a few turns like you do when we’re on the job, go ahead. Might make me feel like things are getting back to normal.”
“See, you really are my best friend,” Starsky replied. “Hang on to what you’re packing.”
With that, the fiery red car picked up the pace and zipped down the street, fishtailing through the next turn onto Ocean Avenue and home.
*the end*
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