Table of Contents
Starsky and Hutch work with another department and when someone puts a hit out on them, they suspect it could be a brother cop.
PART ONE
A cold wind blew down the dark alley. Hutch shivered and turned his jacket collar up against the chill, then reached over to grab Starsky’s arm, turning it so he could see his partner’s watch. “Quarter-to-ten,” he said. “Time to get this show on the road.”
Starsky, also hunched against the cold, nodded. “What the heck’s Davidson waiting for, anyway?” he complained.
The two detectives had been assigned by Captain Dobey to assist Narcotics with a drug bust planned for that evening. The detective in charge, Lieutenant Frank Davidson, was a twenty-year veteran of the force with a cold, abrupt manner. He had been less than pleased to have Starsky and Hutch assigned to his squad, telling Dobey that his own men could handle things, but Dobey had been insistent. So here they were, crouched behind a dumpster in the alley, waiting for the signal to move in.
Hutch shivered again as another gust of wind swirled past them. “If Davidson doesn’t hurry up he’s gonna find two popsicles in this alley instead of detectives,” he said grimly.
Starsky gave a short laugh and was about to make a comment when the walkie-talkie in Hutch’s hand suddenly crackled to life.
“All units—ready to move in,” came Davidson’s voice.
Both detectives gave a sigh of relief. “This is Zebra-Three. Roger,” Hutch answered. “It’s about damn time,” he muttered under his breath.
Starsky grinned and put a consoling hand on his shoulder as they moved toward the building. “C’mon, Blondie, let’s go get the bad guys, then I’ll take you home and make you a nice cup of hot chocolate.”
Hutch rolled his eyes. “Starsk…”
“Hey, be nice, and I’ll throw in some extra marshmallows,” Starsky interrupted.
Hutch grinned in spite of himself. “Come on, Gordo, let’s go,” he said shaking his head.
The two detectives drew their guns as they reached the entrance to the building. Before going in they paused briefly, their eyes meeting in unspoken, but perfectly understood communication; “Be careful” and “I’m right behind you, partner.”
Going inside the building, the first thing they noticed was the silence. Suddenly there was a loud crash from the front of the building and a voice yelled, “Police! Freeze!”
Starsky and Hutch entered the front room and saw Davidson and another detective from Narcotics, Sergeant Mark Burns, on opposite sides of the room, backs to the door. Burns was about five years older than Starsky and Hutch, tall, with sandy brown hair. There was no sign of anyone else in the room, only a few overturned chairs, scattered newspapers, and a long table near the door Starsky and Hutch came in. The creaking of the door as they entered caused Davidson to whirl around, firing a single shot before he realized who was there.
“Hey!” Hutch shouted as he and Starsky dove for the floor. The other two detectives from the Narcotics squad burst into the room at the sound of the gunshot, then froze, looking in confusion from Davidson to the two detectives on the floor.
Davidson put his gun back in his holster and came over to Hutch. “Sorry, Hutchinson. You okay? I thought…”
Hutch interrupted angrily. “No, you didn’t think, Lieutenant! You knew we were covering the back! You could’ve…”
He broke off as he glanced over at Starsky and saw his partner being helped into a sitting position by Sergeant Burns. Starsky was bleeding from his forehead. Instantly, Hutch was at his side, pushing Burns out of the way to grasp Starsky’s shoulder. “Starsk! Are you all right? Let me see, buddy.” He brushed Starsky’s hair back from his forehead and used his handkerchief to blot some of the blood from the wound.
Starsky tried to brush Hutch’s hand away. “Relax, Hutch. I wasn’t hit.” He shook his head, trying to clear it. “I just musta hit my head on the table on the way down.” He looked up at his partner. “You okay?”
Hutch squeezed his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine, Starsk.” He lowered his voice. “No thanks to that trigger-happy Lieutenant.”
Though his voice was quiet, Davidson heard and turned on him angrily. “Alright, that’s enough, Hutchinson. I told you it was an accident. Why don’t you get your partner checked out at the hospital? You can both file your reports in the morning.”
Hutch was about to make a heated comment when Starsky, now holding Hutch’s handkerchief against the gash in his forehead, grabbed his arm. “Take it easy, Hutch. I’m okay. It was an accident.”
Hutch stared into his eyes for a long moment, then sighed. “Okay, Starsk.” He turned to Davidson. “I do want to know one thing, though. What happened with the drug lab we were supposed to bust tonight? Did you just have bad information, or did something tip them off?”
Davidson’s eyes narrowed. “Just what are you implying, Hutchinson?”
Hutch raised his eyebrows, surprised at the other man’s defensiveness. “I’m not implying anything, Lieutenant. Just curious, that’s all.”
Davidson glared at him for a moment, then turned to the rest of the squad and growled, “Alright, people. Looks like nothing’s going to happen here tonight. Let’s go home. I want everybody’s reports on my desk tomorrow.” With that he turned and stalked out.
The other Narcotics detectives stood and looked at each other for a minute, then started moving toward the door. “Man, I can’t believe this happened again,” one said. “I need a drink. Who’s up for Kelsey’s?” The others murmured in agreement. “You coming, Burns?”
Sergeant Burns didn’t reply, watching as Hutch helped Starsky to his feet.
“Burns?” the other detective said impatiently. “You coming?”
Burns seemed lost in thought. He jumped, startled. “Uh, no thanks, guys. Not tonight. I think I’ll just head home.”
The other detective shrugged. “So what else is new? Okay. See ya.” He headed out the door with a wave.
Burns turned to Hutch who was standing with Starsky leaning heavily against him, one arm around Starsky’s waist and one of Starsky’s arms over his shoulders. “You guys need any help?”
Hutch shook his head. “No, thanks. I think we’ve got it covered.” He turned with Starsky toward the door. “‘Night, Burns,” he said over his shoulder. Turning back to Starsky, he tightened his arm around his partner’s waist. “C’mon, buddy, let’s go get you patched up. Then I’ll make you some hot chocolate.” Starsky grinned up at him as Hutch helped him out the door. Burns stood in the center of the room staring after them for a few minutes, then sighed and turned to walk out to his car alone.
~~~~~~~~
Starsky and Hutch spent two hours in the emergency room waiting for someone to take a look at the gash on Starsky’s forehead. Starsky had a dark bruise and a good-sized lump, but the wound itself turned out to be not as deep as Hutch had feared. Starsky hadn’t even needed stitches. As he also didn’t appear to have a concussion, the doctor had closed the gash with some adhesive strips and sent them home with a list of symptoms to watch out for. Despite Starsky’s protests that he was fine, Hutch had insisted on sleeping on Starsky’s couch ‘just in case.’
~~~~~~~~
The next morning the two detectives headed straight for Captain Dobey’s office. Just as Hutch reached for the knob to open the door, it suddenly swung open and he nearly collided with Lieutenant Davidson. Hutch stopped abruptly, causing Starsky to bump into him from behind.
The three men stood and stared at each other for a moment, then Davidson nodded coolly. “Hutchinson.”
Hutch’s nod was just as cool. “Lieutenant.”
Davidson turned to Starsky. “How’s the head, Starsky?”
Starsky reached up to touch the bandage on his forehead and grimaced slightly. “Well, it kinda feels like somebody’s playing bongos inside my head, but I think I’ll live.”
Davidson looked from one to the other as if he wanted to say something else, but then just brushed past muttering about having to get back to work. Starsky and Hutch exchanged raised eyebrows, then turned and entered Dobey’s office.
“Captain, do you have a minute?” Hutch asked. “We need to talk to you.”
Dobey looked annoyed. “Hutchinson,” he barked. “Don’t you know how to knock?”
“Sorry, Cap, but this is important,” Hutch replied.
“Yeah, I think I know what you want to talk about,” Dobey answered. “Davidson was just telling me about what happened last night.” He raised a hand to prevent Hutch from making a comment. “I know you get a little crazy when your partner’s hurt, but that’s no reason to yell at a senior officer.”
“My partner wouldn’t’ve been hurt if that Lieutenant hadn’t been so damn trigger-happy,” Hutch said sharply. Starsky laid his hand on Hutch’s arm, trying to calm him down.
Dobey glared at Hutch. “Davidson says it was an accident.”
“His ‘accident’ could’ve gotten me or Starsky killed.” Hutch was still angry.
Starsky tightened his grip on Hutch’s arm. “C’mon, Hutch, take it easy,” he said.
“I suggest you listen to your partner, Hutchinson,” Dobey said sternly. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. Sit down, both of you.”
As the two detectives sat down in chairs facing Dobey’s desk, Hutch took a deep breath, trying to get his anger under control.
“Alright, Starsky,” Dobey continued. “Since your partner can’t seem to control his temper, why don’t you tell me what went down last night?”
Starsky exchanged glances with Hutch, then gave a brief account of the previous night’s events, ending with his and Hutch’s dive for cover. “I’m afraid I’m a little fuzzy after that, Cap,” Starsky said apologetically, reaching up again to touch the bandage on his forehead. Hutch reached over to squeeze his shoulder and Starsky gave him a smile. “Don’t worry, Hutch, I’m fine,” he told Hutch reassuringly.
Hutch smiled back and patted Starsky on the shoulder, then turned back to Dobey, suddenly serious. “Captain, something funny’s going on with that unit. When they were leaving I thought I heard one of the guys say it had happened before—going in and finding nobody there.”
Dobey sighed. “Now you know why I wanted you two to go along last night. This was the fourth bust in the last six months where all they found was an empty room.”
Starsky looked at Hutch, then back at Dobey. “Sounds like there might be a leak somewhere,” he said.
“That’s what I thought,” Dobey agreed. “I brought it up with Davidson, but he wouldn’t even discuss it. Said he trusted all of his men completely.”
Hutch paused a moment before asking. “What about Davidson?”
Dobey frowned. “I’ve known Frank Davidson for fifteen-years. He’s always been a straight arrow. A little abrasive sometimes, but strictly by the book. I can’t believe he would be the leak.”
Starsky and Hutch looked at each other. “You want us to look into this for you, Cap’n?” Starsky asked.
“Like you said, something funny’s going on and we need to find out if we have an officer on the take,” Dobey answered. “Just try to keep it quiet, will you?”
“Sure thing, Captain,” Hutch said as he and Starsky stood up.
Dobey picked up a stack of file folders from his desk and handed them to Starsky. “Here’s copies of the personnel files of the detectives in Davidson’s unit,” he said. “I ordered them from Records this morning.”
Hutch looked over at the pile. “Is Davidson’s file in there, too?” he asked. Dobey nodded silently.
“Don’t worry, Cap’n,” Starsky said. “We’ll find out what’s going on.”
Hutch nodded as he held the door open for his partner. “Yeah, Cap’n,” he said. “Just leave everything to us.”
~~~~~~~~
Starsky and Hutch spent the rest of the morning going over the files on the officers in Lieutenant Davidson’s unit. As the morning wore on, the two detectives became increasingly discouraged. While all of the officers had been on the force for a number of years, so far the files had yielded no clues to suggest who might be responsible for leaking information to the drug dealers.
Hutch dropped the file he was reading on his desk and leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He sighed and rubbed his face. “Man, I don’t know how much more of this excitement I can stand,” he muttered sarcastically.
Starsky looked up from the file in his hand and nodded in agreement. “Tell me about it.”
Hutch waved his hand at the file he had dropped. “Looks like Dobey was right about Davidson being a straight arrow,” he said. “Just look at this list of commendations. The guy’s a regular walking advertisement for police integrity.”
Starsky grinned slightly. “You sound disappointed.”
Hutch shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s just something about that guy that rubs me the wrong way.”
“C’mon, Hutch, what happened last night was an accident. He’s bound to be uptight what with all those busts going bad. He just over-reacted.”
“Maybe,” Hutch said doubtfully. He looked at his partner, trying not to think about what might have happened last night. “I’ve just got a bad feeling about that guy.” He leaned forward and picked up the file again to resume reading.
Starsky watched him for a minute, then shook his head and returned to his own reading. Usually, Hutch’s instincts about people were right, but this time Starsky couldn’t help but think that Hutch was letting his anger at what happened the night before influence his opinion of Davidson.
For a short time both detectives were silent as they pored over the files. Then Starsky frowned and flipped though the file he was holding, then started digging through the papers on his desk.
Hutch looked up. “What’s the matter, Gordo? Lose something?” he asked with a slight grin.
Starsky kept digging. “When did Dobey say the busts started going bad?”
“About six months ago, wasn’t it?” Hutch dug on his own side of the desk and came up with a typewritten page. “The first one was in May,” he said, reading from the paper. “Why?”
Starsky indicated the file he was holding. “This guy, Burns. He transferred here from the Rampart division in April…just a month before all this started.”
Hutch raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? That sounds like something worth looking into.”
“That’s what I thought,” Starsky agreed. “But right now what I’m interested in looking into is lunch. I’m starving.”
Hutch grinned at him affectionately. “You’re always starving, Starsk.”
“C’mon, Hutch, have a heart. It’s almost one o’clock.” Starsky looked at his partner pleadingly.
Hutch laughed. He never could resist that puppy-dog look from Starsky, and besides, now that he thought about it, he was hungry himself. “Okay, Starsk, you win,” he said, standing up. “Let’s go get lunch at Huggy’s and while we’re there we can see if he’s heard anything about this.”
Starsky didn’t need any more encouragement. He was on his feet, grabbing his jacket, and heading for the door almost before Hutch was finished talking. Hutch followed him out, grinning and shaking his head.
~~~~~~~~
The lunch rush was in full swing when they arrived at The Pits. All the tables were filled, so Starsky and Hutch grabbed two stools at the bar. Huggy was rushing back and forth and barely had time to wave at them before another customer demanded his attention. The two detectives ordered and were almost finished with their meals before the crowd started to thin out and Huggy was able to take a break.
He dropped onto the stool next to Starsky with a heavy sigh. “Man, has this been a day. I ain’t never seen so many hungry people in my life.”
“Looks like business is good, Hug,” Hutch answered.
“That it is, my friend,” Huggy replied with a satisfied grin. His grin faded as Starsky turned toward him and he caught sight of the bandaged forehead. “Hey, Curly, what happened to you?”
Starsky dismissed his injury with a wave of his hand. “Aw, it’s nothin’, Hug. Just had a little run-in with the corner of a table, that’s all.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem to have affected your appetite any,” Huggy observed dryly as Starsky, who had finished his own food, had been reaching over to sneak french fries off Hutch’s plate throughout their conversation. At first, Hutch had swatted at his hand, but finally he gave up and pushed his plate over in front of his partner. Starsky gave Hutch one of his crooked grins, his eyes twinkling, and Hutch had to smile back, though he shook his head at his partner’s seemingly bottomless appetite.
Starsky turned back to Huggy, who was trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face. “Hey, Huggy, we need some information.”
Huggy pretended to be offended. “Hmph. And I thought you just came in here for my fine cuisine.”
“Oh, believe me, Hug, it’s some of the best,” Starsky assured him. “We just need to know what you’ve heard about drug dealers getting tipped off about police raids. Our Narcotics guys have been coming up empty too many times lately.”
Huggy looked surprised. “Don’t tell me one of LA’s finest is on the take.”
“I’m afraid it’s starting to look that way, Huggy,” said Hutch quietly. “You heard anything?”
“Ya know that’s not somethin’ people just chat about in public,” Huggy answered.
“Yeah, I know, Hug, but if you’ve heard anything that even sounds like cops on the take we need to know,” Starsky said.
“Starsky, if there’s a cop gettin’ money from dealers, he’s bein’ damn quiet about it,” said Huggy. “I haven’t heard a word.”
Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances. “Okay, Hug,” Starsky sighed. “Keep your ears open though, huh?”
“You got it,” Huggy answered
~~~~~~~~
Starsky and Hutch sat in the Torino outside Huggy’s trying to figure out their next move. “I still think it’s kinda weird that all the tip-offs started right after Burns transferred in here,” Starsky mused. “Maybe we should go talk to people at his old precinct.”
“Maybe. Of course, it could be just a coincidence,” Hutch reminded him.
Starsky sighed. “Yeah. But it’s the only lead we’ve got so far.”
Hutch shook his head. “You’re forgetting about Davidson.”
“No I’m not,” Starsky told him. “I know we’ve gotta check out everybody on that team. But Burns is the only one we’ve got a lead on and we’ve gotta start somewhere.”
“Maybe we’ve just got to dig a little deeper,” Hutch said stubbornly.
Starsky shook his head in exasperation. “Hutch, I know you’re mad about last night, but don’t you think you might be over-reacting a little?”
Hutch sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right, Starsk.” He smiled slightly. “Maybe I just want it to be him so we’ll have an excuse to nail that jerk.”
Starsky chuckled. “Glad you’re on my side, partner.”
~~~~~~~~
Narcotics was on the third floor of the Rampart division. The squad room was empty when Starsky and Hutch entered except for a couple of uniformed officers in one corner typing reports. The two detectives crossed the room and knocked on the door labeled, “Capt. Arnold Martin.” At the sound of a muffled ‘come in,’ they opened the door and entered the office.
Captain Martin was seated at his desk, a large stack of reports in front of him. He looked up as they entered, a distracted look on his face. He appeared to be in his early fifties, his close cropped dark hair showing just a touch of gray at the temples.
Hutch approached the desk, Starsky close behind him. Both men showed their badges as Hutch introduced them. “Captain Martin, I’m Sergeant Ken Hutchinson, and this is my partner, Sergeant Dave Starsky. We’re from Metro division. We’d like to talk to you about one of your former detectives, Mark Burns.”
Martin glanced at their badges as he rose and shook hands, then gestured them to chairs in front of the desk. As he returned to his own seat, Martin asked, “You want to talk about Burns? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong,” Hutch said. “Just a routine investigation.”
Martin glared. “Cut the crap, Sergeant. You and I both know there’s no such thing as a ‘routine investigation.’ Now why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?”
Hutch exchanged a look with Starsky before answering. “Alright, Captain,” he said. “We’re investigating the possibility of a leak within our Narcotics division.”
“And you think it’s Burns?” Martin asked incredulously.
“We’re checking out everyone on the squad, Captain,” Hutch answered.
“You don’t know Burns very well, do you?” Martin asked.
Both Starsky and Hutch shook their heads. “No, not really,” said Hutch.
“That’s what I thought,” Martin answered. “He’s only been over at Metro for seven months, but he worked here for ten years, and he was one of the best detectives I ever worked with.”
“I’m sure he was, Captain,” Starsky, silent to this point, spoke up. “But we’ve got to check out everything. And it is a little suspicious that the leaks started just a month after Burns transferred in.”
Martin stared at them both for a moment, and his eyes took on a pained expression. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “Detectives, do you know why Burns transferred to Metro?” At their silence, he continued. “Burns and his partner, Jim Thompson, were working on bringing down a drug ring that had been selling in the high schools. They were making progress, too—apparently too much progress…”
His voice faded out and he stared into space for a moment, then visibly pulled himself together and continued. “It was a drive by shooting, right in front of Thompson’s apartment. Burns had gone to pick him up for work and they were on their way back to the car when the shooting started. They missed Burns, but Thompson never had a chance. He didn’t even make it ’til the ambulance got there. Died right there in the parking lot with Burns holding him.”
Martin paused and shook his head sadly. “They went through the Academy together, and they’d been partners for almost ten years. Burns really changed after that. Shut everybody out and became a real loner. Two months later, he asked for a transfer.”
Starsky felt a chill come over him as he listened, trying to stop the image in his mind of Hutch in Thompson’s place. He looked over at his partner and saw him staring at Martin in shock, his face pale.
As Starsky looked at him, Hutch turned toward him and their eyes met. Starsky’s chest tightened at the pain that showed in his partner’s eyes. Hutch held Starsky’s gaze for a moment, then dropped his eyes to his hands in his lap.
Starsky turned back to Captain Martin. He had to clear his throat before he could ask, “Did you catch the shooter?”
Martin nodded. “Burns did. He worked practically around the clock to nail the guy.”
Starsky nodded. That’s what he would do if something happened to Hutch. That’s what Hutch had done for him after Gunther’s goons had shot him in the police garage. He looked over at Hutch again and found his partner staring out the window, but the look in Hutch’s eyes told Starsky he wasn’t looking at the view.
Starsky tried to get his mind back to their investigation. Forcing his eyes away from Hutch, he looked back at Martin. “You said Burns changed?” He couldn’t help shooting another glance at Hutch. “Do you think he changed enough that he would start doing something like leaking information to drug dealers?”
Martin paused thoughtfully, and when he answered his voice was sad. “Burns pretty much lost interest in everything after Thompson was killed. He just came to work, did his job, and went home. Refused another partner. Didn’t really socialize with anyone. It was like he was just going through the motions. But he never stopped being a good cop. So, no, detective, I don’t think he’s your man.”
Starsky nodded as he stood up. “Alright, Captain, thanks for your time.” He paused. “By the way, we’d like to keep this investigation as quiet as possible for now, so we’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anybody.”
Martin rose and extended his hand. “I understand, Sergeant.”
Starsky shook hands with Martin, then placed his other hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “Ready to go, partner?”
Hutch looked up at him, his eyes still clouded. “Yeah, let’s get out of here,” he said quietly. He rose and shook hands briefly with Martin, then turned and walked out the door without another word. Starsky shrugged apologetically at Martin, then hurried after his partner.
Starsky finally caught up to Hutch at the car. His partner was leaning on his arms braced against the roof of the Torino, once again staring into space. Starsky was silent a moment watching him, then reached out his hand and placed it on Hutch’s arm. “Hey,” he said gently. “Hutch?”
Hutch’s rigid shoulders relaxed. “I’m sorry, Starsk,” he said quietly. He turned around, but kept his eyes on the ground. Starsky kept his hand on Hutch’s arm. “I just had to get out of there,” Hutch continued. “That story just reminded me…” He broke off and raised his eyes to meet Starsky’s.
“I know, babe,” Starsky said softly as he placed both hands on Hutch’s shoulders. “It’s okay.” Even after a year and a half, the subject of Starsky’s shooting by Gunther’s thugs still unnerved Hutch. It had been the closest either of them had ever come to losing the other. They had talked about it and most of the time everything was fine, until Starsky got hurt or Hutch heard a story like the one Captain Martin had told today. Then all the memories and all the fear came rushing back.
Hutch reached up to cover one of Starsky’s hands with his own. They stood looking into each other’s eyes for a few moments, then Starsky squeezed Hutch’s shoulders gently. “You okay?”
Hutch gave his partner a small smile. “Yeah.” He paused, then added, “Thanks, Starsk.”
Starsky returned the smile and patted Hutch on the arm. “No problem, partner.”
~~~~~~~~
By the time they had returned to the station and finished up the paperwork, it was four o’clock. The partners were waiting for the elevator, arguing about where to eat dinner, when a loud voice sounded down the hall.
“Hey! I need to talk to you two!”
Turning around, they found themselves face to face with Sergeant Burns. His face was flushed and his jaw clenched.
Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances. “Hey, Burns,” said Starsky. “What’s up?”
“You two have a lot of nerve,” Burns said. “What’s the idea, going around asking questions about me behind my back?”
“C’mon, Burns, calm down. You don’t want to do this here,” Hutch said, noticing that people were starting to stop and stare. He attempted to steer Burns over to an empty corner next to the stairs, but Burns jerked his arm away.
“Listen, Burns, you know we’re just doing our jobs,” Starsky said.
“Don’t talk to me about your job. Why I transferred here is none of your business.”
Hutch spoke in a low voice. “Burns…I’m sorry about your partner. I…”
Burns cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say you know how I feel. There’s no way you could understand how I feel…your partner’s alive.” With that he turned and stalked off, slamming through the door to the stairwell.
Starsky and Hutch stood there, shocked, watching him leave. “So much for keeping the investigation quiet,” muttered Starsky. Neither man noticed Lieutenant Davidson silently standing in the doorway to the squad room, watching.
~~~~~~~~
Lennie Rankin hung up the phone and reached for his cigarettes. He lit one with a trembling hand and drew the smoke deep into his lungs. A small man, he had long, dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and a scraggly mustache and goatee. He sighed as he thought about the phone call he had just received.
Damn cop. He gives me a few tip-offs and he thinks he owns me. I already pay him enough for the tips and now he starts asking me for favors. And not just any favors. He wants me to kill two cops.
Lennie had never seen the cop who had been giving him and several other drug dealers in this part of the city information for the past six months. He just sent his money to a post office box as directed, and every so often the phone would ring and a voice would tell him where the cops planned to make a bust.
Lennie took another long drag on his cigarette as the phone conversation replayed in his mind:
“Lennie, I need you to do me a favor.” The voice on the other end of the line was brusque.
“A favor?” Lennie asked. “What kind of favor?”
“Those two cops, Starsky and Hutchinson, are starting to ask too many questions. They need to be taken care of.”
“Taken care of?” Lennie’s voice rose in shock. “Are you crazy, man? You want me to kill two cops?”
The voice held a threatening edge. “Do I have to remind you what would happen if they find out about our little arrangement?”
Fear crept into Lennie’s voice. “You better find somebody else, man. I ain’t gonna be part of killin’ no cops.”
“Listen, you little punk,” the voice snarled. “You take care of Starsky and Hutchinson, or I’ll take care of you. You got that?”
At that the phone had been abruptly slammed down. Lennie sat staring at the wall for a long time before lighting another cigarette and reaching for the phone to make some calls of his own.
~~~~~~~~
Two days had passed and Starsky and Hutch were getting increasingly frustrated. They had been unable to connect anybody to anything and were no closer to finding out who was the source of the leak. On top of that, the detectives in Narcotics resented Starsky and Hutch digging through their reports and asking questions, and the two detectives were often met with stony silences or barbed comments whenever they entered a room.
“Man, I hope we get a break on this case soon,” Starsky said as they came back to the squad room after lunch. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” He flopped down in his chair with a sigh.
Hutch glanced back toward the elevator, where they had just had another run-in with two of the detectives from Davidson’s squad. “Just ignore those guys, Starsk,” he said. “Nobody ever said this job would be fun.”
“Yeah,” Starsky said. “It’s just that after stuff like that,” he jerked his thumb toward the hallway and the elevator, “I’m starting to feel very alone.”
Hutch came and sat down on the edge of the desk, facing Starsky. “Hey, I know it’s not much, but you’ve got me.” His tone was light, but his blue eyes, as Starsky looked up to meet them, were serious.
Starsky held his gaze steadily as he reached out and patted Hutch’s knee. “I know, partner,” he said. “And it’s a lot.”
Hutch smiled as he stood up and went around to his own side of the desk, pausing to ruffle Starsky’s curls as he passed.
Starsky grinned back and started to say something, but was interrupted by the ringing of his desk phone. He reached for it automatically, still grinning at Hutch. “Starsky.”
“Uh…Hey, Starsky? This is Lennie. Umm…I hear you might be looking for a Narco cop on the take.” Lennie’s voice was low and shook slightly.
Starsky gestured frantically for Hutch to pick up the extension. “What was that again, Lennie?” Starsky asked, as Hutch quietly put his phone to his ear.
“Don’t play dumb. Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?”
“That depends,” said Starsky. “How do we know we can trust you?”
“Oh, you can trust me alright,” Lennie assured him. “I’m one of the guys that’s been payin’ him.”
“Paying who?” asked Starsky.
“Not on the phone,” Lennie said, his voice sounding tense. “Meet me tonight, nine o’clock, at Pier 25. Just you and your partner.”
Starsky looked at Hutch. Pier 25 was in the older part of the waterfront, and the buildings around it were mostly empty. Definitely not Starsky’s idea of a safe meeting place, but since this was the first lead that had sounded even slightly promising, he knew they didn’t really have a choice. Hutch met his eyes and nodded slightly.
“Alright,” Starsky told Lennie. “We’ll be there. How do we find you?”
“Don’t worry, cop, I’ll find you.” With a click, the line went dead.
Starsky raised his eyebrows at Hutch as they both hung up their receivers. “Well, Blondie? Feel like a little late night stroll along the waterfront?”
~~~~~~~~
It was ten-to-nine when Starsky parked the Torino next to a storage shed near the edge of the pier. He and Hutch scanned the area, but saw no one.
“Well, he said he’d find us,” Hutch said. “I guess we wait.”
Starsky sighed. “Yeah.”
They sat staring out the windows for a few minutes, then Starsky broke the silence. “I don’t like this, Hutch. It just doesn’t feel right, ya know?”
“I’m worried too, Starsk,” Hutch said, turning to face his partner. “But this case has been going nowhere fast. If this guy’s information is any good it may be just the break we need. Besides,” he continued as headlights shone behind them, “I think it’s too late to change our minds. Looks like he’s here.”
Starsky grabbed his partner’s arm as Hutch turned to get out of the car. “Hey.”
Hutch turned back to look at him, his eyebrows raised.
Starsky looked into his eyes for a moment. “Be careful, okay?”
Hutch smiled slightly and reached over to pat Starsky’s arm. “Yeah. You too, partner. Let’s go.”
The two detectives got out and walked toward the back of the car as Lennie climbed out of his dilapidated van. He slowly approached the partners, lighting a cigarette and looking worriedly around him.
“Hey, guys, how’s it goin’?” he said with a nervous smile.
“Hi, Lennie,” Starsky said. “What’ve you got for us?”
Lennie hesitated. “You know, I’m risking a lot talking to you guys. I think I might need a little something to help me handle the stress.” His eyes darted back and forth as he took a long drag on his cigarette.
Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances, then Hutch rolled his eyes and reached for his wallet. Pulling out two, twenty-dollar bills, he handed them to the nervous man. “Here, Lennie. This oughta help you learn some relaxation techniques. Now quit stalling. Who’re you paying?”
Starsky found himself staring at Lennie as the drug dealer once again nervously looked around and over his shoulder. This turkey sure is awful nervous about something.
Following Lennie’s gaze, Starsky froze as he saw a shadowy figure move behind Lennie’s van. Catching a slight movement from the corner of his eye, he turned his head and saw another figure standing up from behind some boxes, the unmistakable shape of a gun in his hand.
“Hutch! Get down!” Starsky turned and tackled his partner to the ground just as the sound of gunfire ripped through the night. The two detectives scrambled for cover, Hutch behind a pile of crates next to the edge of the pier, and Starsky behind the front end of the Torino.
Starsky pulled out his gun and returned fire, breathing a sigh of relief when he heard the sound of Hutch’s Magnum as his partner also fired at the gunmen.
Peering from behind the car, Starsky saw one man crouched behind a stack of boxes next to the storage shed. There was no sign of Lennie or the other gunman. Starsky carefully moved down the side of the Torino toward the gunman, wishing he knew how Hutch was doing. He restrained his urge to call out to his partner to avoid giving away their positions.
Damn. I knew this didn’t feel right. That jerk set us up.
Starsky had reached the rear of the Torino and carefully looked around the corner. The gunman was still crouched next to the building, his gaze focused toward Starsky’s original position near the front of the Torino. Starsky stood up, his gun pointed at the shadowy figure. “Freeze! Police!”
He ducked back behind the car as the gunman turned toward him and fired, then stood up again and fired his own gun, hitting the gunman in the chest. As he went forward to check on the man, Starsky heard the sound of sirens quickly coming closer. At the same time he heard Hutch’s voice yell, “Police! Hold it!” followed by two gunshots.
There was the sound of running feet, then Lennie’s van roared to life and drove off with a squeal of tires. As it passed the two approaching patrol cars, one spun around and followed, while the second patrol car pulled up next to the Torino. The officers got out, guns pointed at Starsky.
Starsky held up his hands, gun dangling loosely. “Hey, relax, guys,” he called. “I’m a cop.”
“Put the gun down, sir,” said one of the officers as he approached.
Starsky rolled his eyes, but carefully bent down and placed his gun on the ground. “If you look in my jacket pocket, you’ll find my badge,” he told the officer as he straightened up.
The officer reached into Starsky’s jacket and pulled out his badge. He turned pale as he looked at it. “Sorry, Sergeant Starsky,” he said apologetically as he handed the badge back. “We had a report of shooting out here. What’s going on?”
“Scumbag set us up, “Starsky said, scanning the area for Hutch and trying to suppress the worry growing in his gut. Where was his partner? Hutch should have showed himself by now.
“Us?” questioned the uniformed cop.
“My partner,” Starsky answered, starting to run toward where he had last seen his friend. “Hutch?” he called. “HUTCH!”
Starsky came around the corner of the pile of crates and skidded to a stop. There was no one there. “Hutch!” he called again, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.
Looking frantically around, Starsky spotted something lying on the pier near the edge. Coming closer, he saw that it was Hutch’s gun. A horrifying thought occurred to him as he bent to pick it up.
“I need a light over here, now!” he yelled.
Both uniformed officers ran over, one carrying a large flashlight from the patrol car. Starsky grabbed it and shone the light down into the water off the edge of the pier, his breath catching in his throat as the light illuminated the sight of Hutch floating facedown in the water.
~~~~~~~~
All around him was black, empty nothingness. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear. No matter which way he turned, he seemed unable to pierce through the thick darkness enveloping him. He was afraid, desperately searching for something to tell him he wasn’t alone, wasn’t forgotten. Then he felt it. A strong, familiar, comforting presence all around him. He clung to it as an anchor in the emptiness. ‘Don’t go. Please, stay with me.’
~~~~~~~~
Starsky stared, horrified, into the water for a moment, then quickly handed the flashlight to one of the officers. “Call an ambulance!” he ordered.
The other officer took off at a run as Starsky yanked off his jacket and gun and jumped into the chilly water.
Coming to the surface, he coughed and sputtered, treading water as he looked around frantically for Hutch. He spotted him floating not far in front of him and quickly swam over, turning Hutch onto his back, his heart skipping a beat when he saw blood on the side of Hutch’s head. Starsky quickly swam to the ladder at the end of the pier, carefully holding Hutch’s head above water. The officer holding the flashlight climbed partway down, and together they managed to get Hutch to the top where the other officer had brought the patrol car closer to the edge to give them more light.
Laying Hutch down on the pier, Starsky dropped to his knees beside his friend. Oh, please, please let him be all right, he prayed.
“Hutch?” he said softly, shaking his partner’s shoulder. “C’mon, babe, talk to me…Hutch?”
Starsky’s eyes widened in horror as he realized Hutch wasn’t breathing. Checking for a pulse, he found it very slow and weak. Starsky started CPR, desperately trying to stop the panic rising within him.
“The ambulance is on its way, Sergeant,” one of the officers told him, coming over to help, but Starsky barely heard him. All his energy and attention were focused on Hutch, frantically trying to breathe life back into his best friend.
To Starsky it seemed like forever, but it was only a matter of minutes before the ambulance pulled up, sirens blaring. One of the officers dragged Starsky back as the paramedics quickly took over. Starsky stayed close to Hutch as the paramedics worked, not even noticing when one of the officers put a blanket over his wet shoulders.
The paramedics quickly moved to stabilize Hutch, inserting a breathing tube and starting an IV. Hutch’s heart rate had improved, but his breathing was still shallow and erratic. The blood on his head came from where he had been grazed by one of the gunman’s bullets.
After a brief consultation with the hospital via the radio, the paramedics transferred Hutch to a stretcher and loaded him into the back of the ambulance. Starsky handed the keys to the Torino to one of the officers and climbed into the ambulance with his partner. The paramedics frowned briefly at him, but the look on his face stopped any arguments.
PART TWO
At the hospital, Hutch was quickly wheeled into an exam room and surrounded by medical personnel. Starsky followed the stretcher into the room and stood pressed against the wall, eyes riveted on his partner. He watched as the doctors and nurses worked quickly and efficiently; examining Hutch, drawing blood, making adjustments to the ventilator. Through it all, Hutch lay there, pale and unresponsive.
“I’m sorry, sir, you’re going to have to wait outside.”
Starsky jumped and tried to focus on the nurse leading him out by the arm. “Wait,” he protested. “That’s my partner. I need to be with him.” He turned his head to look back at Hutch.
“Don’t worry, your partner is in good hands,” the nurse told him. “Why don’t you just let the doctors do their job?” She ushered him firmly into the hall. “Besides,” she continued, “You need to get into some dry clothes before we have to admit you too, for hypothermia.”
She handed him a set of hospital scrubs from a laundry cart in the hall and showed him to the men’s locker room. “Once you get dried off, you can have a seat in the waiting room. The doctor will be out to talk to you as soon as he can.”
Starsky watched her walk away, then looked numbly down at the scrubs in his hands. The chill from his wet clothes was nothing compared to the cold knot of terror that had fastened itself in his gut from the moment he had looked down and seen Hutch in the water. Sighing heavily, he headed into the locker room.
When Starsky came into the waiting room, he was surprised to see Captain Dobey sitting in one of the green plastic chairs. Dobey rose as Starsky came into the room.
“Captain?” Starsky said tiredly.
Dobey looked at him with concern. “Hello, Starsky. The officers on the scene called me. How’s Hutchinson?”
“I don’t know, Cap,” Starsky said, his voice shaking. “They…they’re still working on him. He…he wasn’t…breathing very well and….” He broke off and swallowed hard, his hands clenching as he tried to control his emotions.
“Take it easy, son. Hutch is tough, he’ll make it.” Dobey put his hand on Starsky’s shoulder, silently hoping to himself that he was right. “Why don’t you come sit down while we wait for the doctor? You look beat.”
Starsky allowed himself to be led to a chair, where he sat down heavily, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. They waited another thirty-minutes with Starsky alternately pacing back and forth and sitting motionless in a chair, staring into space. After a few attempts at conversation, Dobey left him alone and just sat quietly in a chair nearby.
Dobey had just started to think about going in search of a cup of coffee when a tall, slightly heavy-set man with thinning hair, wearing scrubs and a lab coat came into the room.
“Is there someone here with Detective Hutchinson?”
Starsky shot to his feet. “Me…I mean, I’m his partner, Dave Starsky. How is he, doc? Is he gonna be okay?”
The doctor shook hands with Starsky and also with Dobey, who introduced himself. “Captain, Detective, I’m Doctor Hamilton. We’ve gotten Detective Hutchinson stabilized and we’re moving him to the ICU now.”
“Stabilized?” Starsky asked. “Then he’s doing better, right?”
Doctor Hamilton paused before answering. “Detective Hutchinson is doing somewhat better than when he first arrived at the hospital,” he said carefully. “His heart rate and blood pressure have stabilized. His breathing is still a little shallow, so we’ve kept him on the ventilator, but we expect to be able to wean him from that soon.”
He held up a hand to forestall Starsky’s excited reaction. “Our main concern right now is that he hasn’t regained consciousness. That in itself isn’t unusual, considering the bullet wound to his head, but what we don’t know right now is whether his unconsciousness is due to a concussion from the bullet wound, or from lack of oxygen from his near drowning.”
Starsky turned pale. “Lack of oxygen? Do you mean he might…?” He stopped, unable to say what he was thinking.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Detective,” Doctor Hamilton said. “There’s no evidence your friend has any brain damage. But since we don’t know how long he was in the water, not breathing, we do have to consider the possibility. How he responds in the next few days will tell us more.”
Starsky was silent a moment, digesting the doctor’s information, then he asked, “When can I see him?”
“As I said, he’s being moved to ICU now,” Doctor Hamilton answered. “You can have a seat in the waiting room up there, and the nurses will come get you when he’s settled in.”
Starsky nodded. “Okay, doc, thanks,” he said as he quickly headed for the elevators.
Dobey paused to shake hands with Doctor Hamilton. “Thank you, doctor,” he said before hurrying after Starsky.
~~~~~~~~
When they got to the ICU waiting room, Starsky and Dobey sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly Starsky broke the silence. “Captain, what happened to Lennie and the other gunman?”
Captain Dobey sighed. “Lennie crashed his van when he was running. The man with him was thrown from the van and killed, but there was no sign of Lennie when the patrol car got there.”
Starsky’s face darkened with anger. “Captain, that scum set us up. If I ever get my hands on him…” He broke off, his fists clenched in frustration, and began to pace back and forth.
Dobey put out his hand to grasp Starsky’s shoulder as he paced, forcing him to stop and look at his captain. “Take it easy, Starsky. We’ll find Lennie. You just concentrate on your partner for now.”
Starsky managed a small smile for him, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “Thanks, Cap,” he said quietly. Just then a nurse arrived to escort Starsky in to see Hutch.
~~~~~~~~
It was if there was a heavy weight over every part of his body. The thick, black emptiness still surrounded him, blocking out light and sound. He struggled against the fear, the feeling of being alone. Then through the darkness he felt a familiar, gentle warmth. He tried to reach out towards it, to hold onto it, but the darkness was too overwhelming and he was too weak.
~~~~~~~~
Starsky stood next to Hutch’s bed, staring down at his partner, who was surrounded by tubes and wires. Hutch had a breathing tube in his throat connected to a ventilator near the head of the bed. There was an IV in his left hand, and wires ran from his chest under his hospital gown to a monitor on the wall.
Starsky lifted his eyes to the monitor screen, watching the steady pattern that indicated the beating of Hutch’s heart. Looking back down at Hutch’s face, Starsky felt tears come to his eyes. With all the tubes and wires, Hutch suddenly looked very small and vulnerable.
Blinking back his tears, Starsky moved closer to the bed and took Hutch’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. He reached over and brushed the soft blonde hair off Hutch’s forehead. “Hey, buddy, it’s me,” he said hoarsely, trying to speak past the lump in his throat. “How’re you doin’, partner?” He paused as if waiting for an answer, but Hutch remained still, his eyes closed.
Starsky cleared his throat and tried to make his tone light. “Ya know, Hutch, if you wanted to go swimming you should have picked a warmer day for it.” He attempted a smile, but failed completely, his face crumpling as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.
“Aww, Hutch,” he whispered, holding his partner’s hand against his own chest and squeezing it tightly. He gently stroked Hutch’s cheek with his free hand. “Hang in there, buddy. Don’t let go. I know you’re in there, somewhere, so, please, get better soon and come back to me, okay? I need you, Hutch.”
~~~~~~~~
The darkness had lightened slightly to a dark gray. He was still unable to find a way through it, but somehow it didn’t seem quite so overwhelming. The fear of being alone hadn’t left him, though, and at times threatened to crush him. But now the grayness occasionally allowed sound into his world, and whenever the fear became too much, he would hear a familiar, loving voice, ‘Hang on, Hutch, hang on. I’m here, buddy.’
Starsky shifted in the blue vinyl chair, trying to find a position that didn’t cause the muscles in his neck and back to clench in protest. Since Hutch had been in the hospital, Starsky had rarely left his partner’s bedside. He would sit and hold Hutch’s hand and talk to him, trying to let Hutch know he was there, and encouraging him to hang on. Starsky had fallen asleep a few times from sheer exhaustion, but had always awakened after only a short nap, wanting to be ready if Hutch needed him. Captain Dobey had gone home late the first night, after giving Starsky his jacket, gun, and the keys to the Torino that had been dropped off by the officers Starsky had left them with at the docks.
It was now almost thirty-six hours since Hutch had been admitted to the hospital. The doctors had been able to remove the ventilator the first afternoon, but Hutch was still receiving oxygen by way of a nasal canula. He also showed no signs of waking up. Even though the doctors assured Starsky that Hutch was doing well, Starsky knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until his partner’s blue eyes opened and Starsky could look into them and see the Hutch he knew looking back at him.
Finally giving up trying to find a comfortable position in the chair, Starsky stood up and stretched. Going to Hutch’s bedside, he picked up his partner’s hand and squeezed it gently.
“Hey, Hutch,” he said. “It’s morning, partner. Time to rise and shine.”
Starsky reached over to brush a strand of hair off Hutch’s forehead, then slid his hand down to rub Hutch’s shoulder. He sighed. “I sure wish you’d wake up and talk to me, Blintz. I’d even be happy to listen to you complain about my car.”
Starsky smiled slightly, but quickly became serious again. He was trying to keep a positive attitude, but he hated watching Hutch lying there looking so helpless. Without Hutch to talk to, he felt incomplete, as if some vital part of him was missing.
He gripped Hutch’s hand in both of his. “Just hang in there, Hutch, and please come back to me,” he whispered. “I miss you, partner.” He sighed. “I don’t even know if you can hear me.”
“Don’t worry, honey, he can hear you,” said a quiet voice behind him.
Starsky jumped and turned around, still holding Hutch’s hand. Standing at the foot of the bed was a petite woman of about sixty. Her gray hair was twisted into a bun at the back of her head and she was dressed in the navy blue uniform of the hospital’s housekeeping services. Her brown eyes were kind as she smiled at Starsky.
“You just keep talkin’, he knows you’re here,” she said.
“You really believe that?” Starsky asked hopefully.
“I sure do, honey. I been around a while, and I seen a lot.” She chuckled. “Sometimes I think I drive the nurses crazy…always tellin’ people to talk to the patients, ‘specially the unconscious ones. Lots of people think they can’t hear nothin’, but I tell ’em…they can hear you with their heart. Those patients know when someone who loves ’em is there.”
Starsky sighed and looked back down at Hutch. “It’s just so hard seeing him like this.”
The woman smiled. “That’s exactly what he said last year when you was lyin’ here.”
Starsky looked up in surprise. “You talked to Hutch when I…?”
The woman nodded. “I ‘member he would sit by your bed and talk to you. He was so worried. I told him just what I told you.”
Starsky was silent, thinking back to that time. Many of the details were still hazy to him, but he did know that he had somehow been able to sense Hutch being there, even when he had been in a coma. Maybe he does hear me.
The woman patted him on the arm. “You take care, honey,” she said as she turned to continue with her work.
“Wait,” Starsky said. “I don’t even know your name.”
She paused with her hand on her housekeeping cart and smiled at him again. “It’s Mary,” she said.
Starsky smiled back. “Thanks, Mary.”
Hutch’s nurse chose that moment to shoo Starsky out into the hall so she could do Hutch’s morning care. Starsky squeezed Hutch’s hand before he left. “See you in a little while, partner,” he whispered.
Out in the hall, Starsky got a cup of coffee from the machine and was leaning against the window frame, looking out, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned, surprised to see Captain Dobey standing behind him.
“Captain? You’re here early.”
“Well, the hospital’s on my way to the station,” Dobey said gruffly. “How is he?”
“The docs say they’re gonna be able to move him out of the ICU soon,” Starsky said. He fidgeted with his coffee cup, looking down.
Dobey frowned. “Isn’t that good news?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s great,” Starsky said quickly. “It’s just that…he’s still unconscious.” Starsky sighed and rubbed his hand across his face, then leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closed.
Dobey looked at him with concern. “Starsky, it sounds like Hutch is doing better. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
Starsky opened his eyes and stood up straighter. “I’m fine, Cap. I can’t go home. I have to be here in case Hutch needs me.”
“Starsky, you look exhausted. You’re not going to be any good to Hutch if you keel over.”
Starsky shook his head stubbornly. “Captain…”
Dobey interrupted, his voice stern. “Starsky, don’t make me make this an order.”
Starsky tried arguing, but eventually agreed to go home for a few hours under the condition that the nurses would call him if anything changed with Hutch. He went in to talk to Hutch again before he left.
“Hey, blondie,” he said, leaning close and placing his hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “Dobey’s kickin’ me outta here for a while. He says I have to go home for a few hours before they have to scrape me off the floor.” He smiled slightly. “You behave yourself while I’m gone, Blintz, and don’t give the nurses a hard time, okay?” He squeezed Hutch’s shoulder. “I’ll be back soon, Hutch, I promise. You just take it easy, and get better, buddy.”
He straightened with a final squeeze of Hutch’s shoulder and stood staring down at his friend for a few moments before heading for the elevator.
~~~~~~~~
After taking a shower at home, Starsky wrapped his robe around him, sat on the bed, and picked up the phone, dialing the number to the ICU. The nurse assured him that Hutch was doing fine and that there had been no changes.
Starsky hung up and sat, just staring at the wall, for several minutes. He really should have something to eat or maybe try to sleep, but all he could think about was Hutch lying there in that hospital bed.
He’s gonna be all right. He has to be.
Eventually the strain and fatigue caught up with him and Starsky fell into a restless sleep.
~~~~~~~~
Starsky awakened with a start. Groaning, he ran his hands over his sweaty face, trying to erase the lingering images of the nightmare that had awakened him. With a sigh, he rolled over to look at the clock next to the bed. He had been asleep for almost three hours, but his sleep had been plagued by frightening visions of Hutch: facedown in the water, in the ambulance, in the ICU…in a casket. It was this final vision that had caused Starsky to awaken suddenly, his heart pounding.
Reaching for the phone, he dialed the number for the ICU again. Hearing from the nurse that everything was fine and Hutch was stable helped him to calm down slightly, but he found he was unable to get back to sleep. After tossing and turning for another twenty minutes, Starsky finally gave up and decided to head back to the hospital.
He dressed quickly and fixed himself a sandwich, but ended up throwing half of it away. He smiled sadly to himself when he thought about the comments Hutch would make it he were there about the absence of Starsky’s usually bottomless appetite.
God, I wish you were here, buddy.
Pulling himself together, Starsky headed out the door.
Preoccupied with thoughts of Hutch, he fumbled with his keys, dropping them to the ground. Muttering under his breath, he bent to pick them up, then quickly flattened himself to the pavement as bullets suddenly ricocheted off the side of the Torino.
~~~~~~~~
Starsky drew his gun and cautiously raised his head to peer around as the sound of gunfire faded. A dark green sedan was speeding away with a squeal of tires.
Starsky stood, trying to calm the pounding of his heart as he surveyed the damage to his car. There were three bullet holes in the driver’s side door, and a fourth bullet had shattered the window of the rear door on the same side.
Damn, that was close. I wonder who we got mad at us this time?
Taking one more look around the street, Starsky got into his car and headed for the station.
~~~~~~~~
When he arrived, Starsky stopped first at his desk to call the hospital, breathing a sigh of relief at the nurse’s report that Hutch was fine. As he hung up the phone and headed for Dobey’s office, Starsky thought to himself that Hutch’s nurse had seemed a little annoyed to hear from her patient’s partner again.
Starsky walked into Dobey’s office without bothering to knock. Dobey looked up with a frown on his face.
“Starsky, what are you doing here? And don’t you ever…?” he started, but Starsky interrupted.
“Sorry, Cap, but getting shot at makes me forget my manners.”
Dobey’s eyebrows rose. “Shot? Starsky, what are you talking about?”
“Somebody took some shots at me outside my apartment,” Starsky replied. “Looks like whoever hired Lennie isn’t finished yet.” He paused. “Cap’n, I think we need to put a guard outside Hutch’s room at the hospital. If they tried to get me again, they might try to get him, too.”
Dobey nodded. “I think you have a point, Starsky,” he said. “Did you get a look at the shooter?”
“Nah, he drove off too fast,” Starsky grumbled. “All I know is the car was a dark green sedan, and the guy was a damn good shot. If I hadn’t dropped my keys he would’ve nailed me. You should see what he did to my car.”
“Looks like whoever our leak is doesn’t like you two nosing around,” Dobey said grimly.
“You really think it’s somebody from Davidson’s squad?” Starsky asked. “I hate to think it’s another cop trying to kill us.”
“Could be whoever’s the leak, could be one of the drug dealers…”
“Could be one of the hundred other people Hutch and I have ticked off around town,” Starsky interrupted.
Dobey looked at him silently for a moment, then reached for his phone. “I’m going to assign an officer to stay in the hall outside the ICU,” he said. “I assume you’ll be there, too?”
Starsky nodded. “Yeah, I’m going back as soon as I leave here.”
“Well, get out of here, then,” Dobey told him. “Go take care of your partner.”
Starsky gave him a small smile and started to leave. At the door he paused and turned back. “Thanks, Captain.”
“Go on,” Dobey said gruffly, but his eyes were twinkling.
~~~~~~~~
Finding the coffeepot in the squad room empty, Starsky stopped by the vending machine in the hall on his way out. As he straightened up from making his selection, he felt as if someone was watching him. He turned around and saw Sergeant Burns standing a little down the hall, staring at him.
“Hey, Burns,” Starsky said.
Burns flushed a little and looked away uncomfortably.
Starsky frowned. “Did you need something, Burns?” he asked.
The other detective shifted uneasily. “Uh, no… I just…Well, I heard about your partner being hurt. I hope he’s gonna be alright.”
Starsky’s eyes softened understandingly. “Thanks, Burns,” he said quietly. “So do I.”
~~~~~~~~
How long had he been drifting in this gray nothingness? A day? A week? An eternity? The familiar feeling of someone he knew had gone and now there was nothing to focus on but the solitude. He reached out hoping, begging for someone to find him. He heard voices around him, but they couldn’t reach him; they were no more than a meaningless buzz. He wanted to be strong, but the fear kept trying to overtake him. Just when he thought he couldn’t fight the fear any longer, he felt a warm hand holding his and a strong presence all around him, making him feel safe, complete, and loved. He relaxed as he heard the familiar voice.
~~~~~~~~
“Hey, buddy, I’m back. How’s it going?” Starsky squeezed Hutch’s hand gently as he stood at his partner’s bedside.
Hutch’s nurse came over from the desk and stood on the other side of the bed watching the monitor. “Well, look at that,” she said after a few minutes, interrupting Starsky, who had been quietly talking to his friend.
Starsky looked up, his face clouding with concern. “What? Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no,” the nurse quickly reassured him. “Not at all. It’s just that he’s been a little restless for the past couple hours, and his heart rate and breathing have been up and down. But ever since you’ve been here his vital signs have stabilized and he’s settled down. You seem to have a calming influence on him.”
Starsky smiled thinly. “That’s funny,” he said looking down at Hutch’s face. “Usually he says I drive him crazy.”
He tightened his grip on Hutch’s hand. Oh, Hutch, I’d give anything to hear you laughing and joking around with me again. Please be all right, buddy.
The nurse had been watching silently. “You two must be very close,” she said.
I’ve never been closer to anyone in my life. Nobody cares about me like Hutch; understands me like he does. He’s always been there for me, no matter what. If he doesn’t make it, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.
“Yeah,” Starsky said softly. “He’s my best friend.”
~~~~~~~~
Starsky stayed at Hutch’s bedside as the afternoon turned into evening and then into night, holding Hutch’s hand, stroking his head, talking to him, and praying for him to be alright. By now the nurses were used to working around Starsky, and had long ago given up trying to enforce ICU visiting hours. Starsky allowed himself to be talked into going down to the cafeteria at one point, but he found himself hurrying through his dinner in order to get back to Hutch.
~~~~~~~~
The world around him had lightened to a light gray mist. The touch of hands and the sound of voices came and went around him, but there was only one touch, one voice that mattered to him; that could reach through the mist and find him and keep him from being alone. He knew that without that lifeline he would have been lost long ago. He looked deep inside himself, trying to find enough of his slowly returning strength to push his way out of the mist, to reach out for his lifeline. ‘Starsk.’
~~~~~~~~
The clock on the ICU wall read 1:45 a.m. The noise level in the unit had changed from the bustle and activity of the day shift to a low-level hum. Starsky had been dozing in the chair next to Hutch’s bed when suddenly he awakened with a start.
Rubbing his eyes, he looked over at Hutch, but his partner lay as still as he had been for the past two days.
Strange, I could’ve sworn I heard you calling me, Blintz. I guess I was dreaming.
Going over to Hutch’s bed, Starsky put the side-rail down and sat on the edge of the mattress. He picked up his partner’s hand, his thumb gently rubbing circles on the back of it. “Hi, buddy,” he said softly. “How’s it going?”
You’ve gotta be in there somewhere, pal. Please wake up for me, Hutch.
“Hey, Hutch,” he said, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile. “You gotta hurry up and get better, partner. Do you know what eating this hospital food is doing to me? No burritos, no pizza…I can only go so long without a chili dog, ya know.”
He paused, his smile fading as he looked down at his partner. “C’mon, Hutch, I’ll even bring you some of that slop you drink for breakfast…but you gotta wake up, Blondie. The nurses are getting tired of listening to me talk to myself.”
He paused again and swallowed hard. “Aw, Hutch,” he sighed, his voice shaking slightly. “If you can hear me, babe, I really need you to wake up. I…I don’t think I know how to do this without you, partner.”
Still holding Hutch’s hand, he closed his eyes and laid his head down on Hutch’s chest. “I’m here, Hutch,” he whispered. “Please come back to me, buddy.”
For a moment everything was still, then Hutch’s hand tightened slightly around Starsky’s. Starsky sat up abruptly, staring at their joined hands and then at Hutch’s face.
“Hutch?” he asked. “Can you hear me?”
Hutch’s fingers moved again, tightening briefly around Starsky’s. His head moved from side to side, and a small moan escaped his lips.
Starsky grabbed Hutch’s hands with both of his. “Hutch? Hutch, it’s me, babe. C’mon, pal, you can do it. Open your eyes.”
Hutch stirred slightly, his eyes slowly opening to stare unfocused at the ceiling. Starsky reached forward and gently laid his hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “Hutch?” His voice shook as his eyes filled with tears. Hutch’s eyes blinked several times, then moved to focus on Starsky’s face.
A faint smile formed on his face, and his fingers tightened again on Starsky’s hand, this time holding on. “Hey, Starsk,” he whispered hoarsely.
Starsky smiled, blinking back his tears. “Hey, yourself,” he whispered past the lump in his throat. ” ‘Bout time you woke up Blondie.” Drawing a shaky breath, he reached up to touch Hutch’s cheek. “Welcome back, partner.”
~~~~~~~~
Lennie paced restlessly in the dingy hotel room, trying to ignore the aches and pains the movement caused. Crashing his van while running from the cops had left him with several cuts and bruises, as well as a swollen and tender left shoulder, forcing him to keep that arm close to his body. The ashtray on the dresser was overflowing as he awkwardly lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply.
He had really gotten himself into a mess this time. He must have been crazy to try and kill two cops, especially cops like Starsky and Hutchinson. Now the whole police force was after him and he had no idea where to turn.
Even more frightening was the prospect of what the cop who had ordered the hit would do once he found him. Lennie shuddered as he remembered the chilling words from their phone conversation. ‘You take care of them, or I’ll take care of you.’
On top of everything else, Lennie really needed a fix. He had been hiding in this hotel room since that night and hadn’t been able to get to his supplier, and now his body was shaking in withdrawal.
A knock on the door almost caused him to jump out of his skin. Heart pounding, he stared at the door in silence. Maybe they’ll go away. The knock came again, louder this time.
Lennie’s bloodshot eyes frantically scanned the room, finally settling on the fire escape outside the window next to the bed. He crossed the room and was trying to open the window when the door from the hallway suddenly crashed open. Lennie froze at the sight of the man standing there, his gun pointed straight at Lennie’s chest.
“What’s the matter, Lennie?” The man spoke. “Don’t you want visitors?”
Lennie frowned. “Who are you?”
“Lennie, I’m hurt. I thought we were old friends.”
Lennie’s eyes widened in fear as his jumbled brain finally recognized the man’s voice. “It’s you. Look, man, I tried. It was those other guys, the shooters, that screwed up, not me. That wasn’t my fault.”
“Lennie, I gave you a job to do and you messed up. Now you’re really a liability I can’t afford.”
“No, man…please…wait…” The last thing Lennie saw was the cold look in the man’s eyes as he pulled the trigger.
~~~~~~~~
Starsky had bounded away from Hutch’s bed, excitedly telling everyone he saw, “He’s awake! Hutch is awake!”
He found Hutch’s nurse and dragged her back to the bedside to witness the miracle for herself. After threatening to throw Starsky out if he didn’t calm down and stop disturbing the other patients, she went back to the desk to call the doctor, smiling in spite of herself at her patient’s partner’s enthusiasm. Pleased with the results of his examination, the doctor had written the order to transfer Hutch to a regular room later that day.
~~~~~~~~
Captain Dobey walked into Hutch’s room that evening to find Hutch sitting up in bed and Starsky leaning back in a chair with his feet propped on the edge of the bed. Both were engrossed in an old black and white movie on the TV.
Dobey smiled. “Well, Hutchinson, good to see you back with us. How’re you feeling?”
“Thanks, Cap’n,” Hutch said, reaching over to turn down the volume on the TV. “I’m feeling pretty good, just really tired. The doctors say they want to keep me here a couple more days.”
Dobey nodded. “Good. You get plenty of rest so you can get back to work. Since your partner’s been spending all his time here, too, I’m short-staffed.” He frowned at them, attempting to look stern, but couldn’t hide the relief in his eyes at seeing Hutch awake and conscious again.
Starsky and Hutch looked at each other and grinned. They both knew they were very lucky to have a Captain who cared so much and was willing to let them stay with each other when one was hurt.
“Thanks, Cap,” Starsky said.
“Hmph.” Dobey shifted uncomfortably, then quickly changed the subject. “You both might be interested to know we found Lennie.”
Starsky stood up angrily. “That little weasel. I wanna talk to him.”
Hutch reached out and put his hand on Starsky’s arm. “Take it easy, buddy.” Starsky met his eyes and relaxed slightly.
“I wish I could oblige you, Starsky, but Lennie’s dead, “Dobey said. The two detectives looked at him in surprise. “He was found shot to death this morning in a hotel room over on 17th Street,” Dobey continued. “I sent Sanchez and Billings over there, but they didn’t find anything.
“Great,” Hutch said. “There goes our best lead.” He sighed, leaning back on the pillows and closing his eyes.
Starsky put his hand on Hutch’s arm. “Hutch? You alright?”
Hutch opened his eyes and patted Starsky’s hand on his arm. He smiled slightly. “I’m okay, Starsk. Just a little tired.” He looked more closely at his partner. “You don’t look so hot yourself, buddy. Why don’t you go home and get a decent night’s sleep?”
Starsky pretended to be insulted. “Thanks a lot, pal.”
Hutch, well aware he was pretending, just grinned.
After a few moments, Starsky grinned back mischievously. “Besides, partner,” he said, “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I saw the way you’ve been eyeing those nurses. You just want me outta the way so you can make your move.”
“You must be slipping, partner,” Hutch said, trying to keep a straight face. “I thought you woulda had all their numbers in your own little black book by now.”
Starsky glared at him for a second, then both men burst out laughing. Dobey, who had been watching silently, shook his head, smiling to himself.
“Hey,” Starsky protested, getting himself under control, “I kinda had other things on my mind, ya know?” His face grew serious.
“I know,” Hutch said, also becoming serious. “Thanks, buddy.” His eyes looked deep into Starsky’s for a moment. “But, really, Starsk, you should go home and get some rest, you look beat. Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”
Starsky shook his head. “I’m fine, Hutch. I think I’ll just hang out around here for awhile.”
“At least go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat,” Hutch said. “I think I’m just gonna take a little nap.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.
“Okay, partner, you win,” Starsky said putting his hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “You sure you’re gonna be alright here for awhile?”
“Hey, don’t worry about me,” Hutch said, opening his eyes again. “I’ve got a policeman right outside my door. What could be safer than that?”
Starsky grinned. “Okay, blondie, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He gave Hutch’s shoulder a squeeze, then turned to Dobey. “Hey, Cap. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
~~~~~~~~
Once Starsky saw food he found he was hungrier than he had realized. He sat wolfing down a roast beef sandwich and a piece of pie while Dobey sat sipping his coffee with a bemused expression on his face.
“Sure I can’t get you somethin’ to eat, Cap’n?” Starsky asked as he finished the last bite.
Dobey finished his coffee. “No, I’d better get home before Edith sends out a search party,” he chuckled. “Thanks for the coffee and…” He broke off in surprise as Sergeant Burns came up to the table. “Burns, what’re you doing here?” he asked.
Burns appeared agitated. “Oh. Captain Dobey. How are you?” He turned to Starsky. “I thought I’d find you here. I need to talk to you.”
Starsky and Dobey exchanged glances. “Sit down, Burns.” Starsky gestured to an empty chair. “What’s going on?”
Burns sat down, pulling a napkin from the dispenser on the table and fidgeting with it. “I’ve been thinking about this for hours, trying to decide whether to say anything. I still can’t believe he would do something like that.”
“Stop talking in riddles, Burns,” Dobey snapped. “If you know something, let’s have it.”
“Alright,” Burns sighed. “This afternoon I was waiting outside R&I for a file and I heard Lt. Davidson on the pay phone. He was arguing with someone.”
“And?” Starsky prompted when Burns didn’t continue.
Burns fidgeted with the napkin in silence for a few moments, then went on, “I heard him say, ‘You’d better do what I tell you. Or maybe you’d rather end up like Lennie.’ Then he slammed down the phone.”
Starsky looked at Dobey, then back at Burns. “You sure that’s what he said?” he asked.
Burns nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” Starsky said.
“That’s not all,” Burns continued. “After I heard that, I started thinking. One day about a week ago I walked into Davidson’s office to give him a report and he had an open envelope on his desk. He shoved it in his desk drawer real fast when he saw me and started yelling at me for not knocking. I pretended like I hadn’t seen anything, but that envelope was full of money… Lots of money.”
Starsky stared at him in silence for a moment. Damn. He’s been right under our noses the whole time. Sorry, partner, I shoulda listened to you. He turned to Dobey, who had been listening silently. “Captain?”
Dobey sighed, his face grim. “I’d hate to think Davidson would do something like this after all these years on the force,” he said.
“Captain, I know what I saw,” Burns protested.
“I’m not doubting your word, Burns,” Dobey assured him. “If Davidson’s dirty, I want to nail him as bad as you do. But we’ve got to be careful how we handle this. If we confront him without any proof, he’ll just deny it then cover his tracks so deep we’ll never be able to get him.”
Starsky nodded, gazing over Burns’ shoulder at the doorway to the cafeteria as he considered how they could trip up Davidson. Suddenly, he leaned forward, staring as he caught sight of a man in a policeman’s uniform walking into the cafeteria, laughing and flirting with a redheaded nurse.
His eyes widened in disbelief, then narrowed in anger as he recognized the cop they had left outside Hutch’s room only an hour ago. “Hey, what’s Perkins doing down here?” he said, standing up. “He’s not supposed to get off ’til eleven.”
He hurried across the room, grabbing Perkins by the arm before the officer had a chance to pick up a tray. “Perkins, what the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be standing guard outside Hutch’s room. You can pick up women on your own time.”
Starsky’s voice was angry, and also a little tinged with fear. After what he had just found out from Burns, he really didn’t like the idea of Hutch being by himself.
Perkins turned around, taking a step back when he saw the look in Starsky’s eyes. He raised his free hand in a placating gesture. “Take it easy, Sergeant Starsky. Your partner’s fine. Lieutenant Davidson…”
“Davidson?” Starsky interrupted. “What’s Davidson got to do with it?”
“Lieutenant Davidson came to visit your partner,” Perkins answered. “He said there was no reason for two cops to be guarding Sergeant Hutchinson, and he told me I could take a break.”
Starsky felt his gut twist into knots. “Davidson is up there with Hutch now?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Perkins nodded, staring at Starsky with a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. “Yeah, I told you, he…”
Casting a desperate glance over his shoulder at Dobey, Starsky yanked Perkins by the arm, dragging the uniformed cop behind him as he rushed out of the cafeteria.
“Hey,” Perkins protested. “What’s going on?”
Dobey and Burns caught up with them as they were waiting for the elevator, Starsky shifting impatiently from one foot to the other.
“Starsky,” Dobey barked. “Would you mind telling me what you’re doing?”
“Davidson’s up there with Hutch, Cap’n,” Starsky told him.
Feeling like he was wasting precious time waiting for the elevator, Starsky headed for the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. He was vaguely aware of Burns following him.
Starsky slammed through the stairway door on Hutch’s floor, ran down the hall, and burst into Hutch’s room without pausing.
“Davidson!” he yelled.
Davidson froze, leaning over Hutch’s bed, then dropped the pillow he had been holding. For a second, his eyes were panicked, darting around the room. Suddenly, he reached over and grabbed Hutch, pulling him out of bed and holding him with an arm around his neck. Davidson drew his gun and placed it against Hutch’s head.
Hutch, who had been asleep until Starsky yelled, shook his head groggily as Davidson started to drag him toward the door.
“Back off, Starsky,” Davidson snarled. “I’m leaving now, and you and everybody else out there better stay out of my way or you’re gonna have a dead partner.”
~~~~~~~~
“Give it up, Davidson, you’re not gonna get away with this,” Starsky said, backing out of the room as Davidson advanced. He kept his voice even, but his heart was pounding.
Right outside the door, Dobey, Burns, and Perkins quickly moved back as Starsky came into the hall, followed closely by Davidson, Davidson’s arm still locked around Hutch’s neck. Starsky met Hutch’s eyes, seeing fear there, but also trust that Starsky would be able to do something. Starsky was determined to uphold that trust.
Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll get you out of this somehow.
Davidson started to move with Hutch slowly down the hall. He had gone only a few feet when a nurse’s aide pushing a food cart came down the hall from the other direction and ran into Davidson from behind.
Starsky took advantage of Davidson’s momentary distraction and started to move in, but Davidson recovered quickly. Shoving Hutch forcefully toward Starsky, Davidson turned around and ran past the terrified aide, disappearing into the stairwell. Burns and Perkins stood, stunned, for a moment, then headed after him.
Hutch collided with Starsky, who staggered as he grabbed his partner’s arms to keep Hutch from falling. He looked worriedly into Hutch’s face. “You okay, partner?”
At Hutch’s nod, Starsky gave his partner’s shoulder a squeeze. “Be right back, blondie.” He hurried down the stairs after Davidson as Dobey and a nurse came to help Hutch back to his room.
~~~~~~~~
Starsky’s footsteps echoed in the stairwell as he hurried down. He didn’t see any sign of Davidson or Burns and Perkins, but figured Davidson would try to get out of the hospital, so he headed for the ground floor.
Starsky opened the door to the main floor, cautiously looking around before stepping into the hallway off the hospital lobby. Still seeing no sign of Davidson, he started down the hall toward the lobby. He was approaching a bank of phone booths when a voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Hello, Starsky. Looking for me?”
Starsky froze as Davidson stepped out of one of the phone booths, his gun pointed straight at Starsky. “At least I can take care of part of my problem now,” Davidson said as he pulled back the hammer of the gun. “I can still take care of your partner later.”
Any retort Starsky had planned to make was cut off as Burns suddenly barreled down the hall from the lobby, launching himself in a flying tackle at Davidson. Davidson’s gun discharged into the air as both men crashed to the ground. There was a brief scuffle, which ended when both Starsky and Perkins, who had run over when he heard the shot, pointed their guns at Davidson.
“Okay, Davidson, party’s over,” Starsky said. “Drop the gun.”
Davidson stared at the three men for a moment, then suddenly went limp, dropping his gun. Burns quickly picked it up and placed it in his own waistband, then turned Davidson over, placing him in handcuffs and reading him his rights.
Climbing to his feet, Burns hauled Davidson up too. “Come on, Lieutenant, you’ve had a hard day. We’ve got a nice, comfy cell for you to rest in.”
As Burns and Perkins started to lead Davidson away, Starsky stopped Burns with a hand on his arm. “Hey,” he said. “Great timing with that tackle. Thanks.”
Burns met his eyes for a moment, then smiled slightly. “You’re welcome, ” he said, then turned and led Davidson out past the crowd that had gathered.
~~~~~~~~
As soon as Starsky got back to Hutch’s floor, he could hear his partner’s voice raised in protest.
“I’m telling you, Captain, they’ve been gone too long. Something must’ve happened. I’m going down there, Starsk might need help.”
Dobey’s voice had that no-nonsense tone that meant he wasn’t backing down. “Hutchinson, you regained consciousness less than twenty-four hours ago. The doctor says you need to rest. Starsky can take care of himself. You’re not going anywhere.”
“You can’t stop me,” Hutch said stubbornly.
“Just can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I, blondie?” Starsky said, walking into Hutch’s room with a grin. Hutch was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying vainly to get up past Dobey’s restraining hand. “I’m only gone a few minutes and here you are being difficult.”
Hutch turned relief-filled eyes to him. “Starsky! Are you all right? What happened?”
Starsky came over and sat on the edge of the bed next to Hutch, and laid his hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “Relax, Blintz, everything’s fine. We got Davidson and he’s on his way to the lock-up with Burns and Perkins.”
Hutch looked at him closely. He knew there was more to the story that Starsky wasn’t telling him, but also knew Starsky would fill him in when he was ready. Nothing else, matters, babe, as long as you’re okay. He reached up and covered Starsky’s hand on his shoulder with his own, squeezing gently.
~~~~~~~~
Starsky bounced into Hutch’s hospital room two days later, singing under his breath and keeping time with his hand on his leg. “Hey,” he said, grinning as he greeted Hutch, who was dressed in the street clothes Starsky had brought him the night before. “You ready to go?”
Hutch grinned back. “Just about, Starsk. As soon as my prescription comes up from the pharmacy, I’m outta here.”
Starsky nodded as he moved around the room. Looks like we beat the odds again, partner. Sure wish we’d quit cutting it so close, though.
He peeked into the duffel bag Hutch had open on the bed. “You got all your stuff?”
“Yep, that’s it,” Hutch answered. Thanks for being there for me, buddy.
Their eyes met, both understanding the other without words, as usual.
After a few moments, Starsky suddenly grinned. “Hey, did you ask out that nurse from the evening shift?”
Hutch seemed uncomfortable as he looked away. “Well, Starsk…um…I decided…she really isn’t my type, ya know?”
Starsky’s grin widened. “She turned ya down, huh?” Hutch’s blush gave him the answer he needed.
“C’mon, Starsky, it’s not that funny,” Hutch complained. He attempted to glare at his giggling partner, but eventually found himself joining in. A knock on the door caused them to try and pull themselves together.
Sergeant Burns stuck his head through the door in response to Hutch’s, “Come in.”
“Hi, guys,” he said. “Mind if I come in for a minute?”
“Hey, Burns, how’s it going?” Starsky said. “Come on in.”
“Yeah, come in, Burns,” Hutch agreed. “What brings you down here?”
“I heard you were going home today,” Burns answered. “Congratulations.”
Hutch exchanged a glance with Starsky. “Thanks. I’m definitely ready to be out of here.”
“I also thought you’d like to know Lt. Davidson was indicted for Lennie’s murder, and also for ordering the hit on you two,” Burns continued. “Judge denied bail.”
“I hope they throw the book at him,” Hutch said angrily.
Starsky frowned. “What I can’t understand is why a guy with twenty years on the force, a whole pile of commendations, and a wife and kids would get involved in something like that.”
“I asked him that,” Burns said. “It was the money, I think. He said he had been working hard for twenty years and had gotten nowhere. He said he just thought it was time he got what he was entitled to.”
Hutch shook his head. “And now he’s lost everything.”
“Yeah,” Burns said. “It was funny, but when I was talking to him it seemed like he didn’t have any respect for the police or the pushers. It was like he thought he was better or smarter than all of us.”
Starsky snorted. “Some time in prison will change that view.”
“That’s for sure,” Hutch agreed. Changing the subject, he asked,” So, Burns, heard anything about who your new Lieutenant’s gonna be?”
Burns was silent for a moment. “No, I haven’t heard anything, but…Well, I might as well tell you. You’re gonna hear about it sooner or later.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m leaving the department.”
Both Starsky and Hutch stared at him in surprise. “Leaving? Why?” Starsky asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
Burns sighed. “It’s just gotten too hard being on the streets without Jimmy,” he said quietly. “I tried. But it’s been almost a year and…” He paused and sighed again. “My heart’s just not in it anymore, you know?”
Hutch looked at Starsky, then back at Burns. “Yeah, we understand, Burns. This must’ve been a really tough decision for you. What are you going to do now?”
“I was just a few credits shy of a teaching degree when I decided to join the force,” Burns said. “I’ve talked to some people at the university, and I’m going to go back and finish my degree.” He looked at his watch. “Guess I’d better get going,” he said. I still have to answer to the department for another two weeks, and I’m supposed to be in court in a half hour.”
Starsky and Hutch both came over and shook his hand.
“Good luck, Burns,” Starsky said. “And keep in touch, okay?”
“Thanks, guys, I will,” Burns said, as he headed for the door.
He was almost out the door when he paused and turned back, staring intently at both Starsky and Hutch. “You know,” he said. “What you guys have is something very special. Make sure you don’t forget how lucky you are.” He turned and walked quickly out the door and down the hall.
Starsky and Hutch looked at each other for a long moment. “I don’t think that’s something I’m ever gonna forget,” Starsky said softly.
“Me either, Starsk,” Hutch answered, putting his hands on Starsky’s shoulders. “Me either.”
THE END
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