Underpinnings

121

Starsky has to go undercover, but first he must make a certain purchase.

 

Originally published in Venice Place Chronicles Volume IX in 2012.

---

Hutch hung the phone up and said, “Sorry, partner. She won’t help.”

“Terrific. What’re we gonna do now?”

“We’re going to handle it ourselves. We’ve run out of other options.”

Starsky was just a little panicked, something he was not used to at all. “Okay. Did she say why?”

“No, mostly she just laughed her ass off. She did say she wished she could be a fly on the wall.”

“Oh, that’s helpful. Where do you want to go?”

“How should I know? Won’t any department store do? How about Walker Scott?”

Starsky snapped his fingers. “Wait! What about Minnie?”

“I already asked her. She laughed almost as hard.”

“You’re skinnier than me, maybe you should do it.”

“No way, buddy. We flipped for it, and I won fair and square.”

“Best three out of five?”

Hutch laughed at him. “I can’t believe you’re scared to do this. You face armed felons. You’ve been shot. Why does this wig you out so much?”

“You can’t tell me that it wouldn’t if you lost the toss. I think I’d rather respond to a domestic than do this.”

“Well, it isn’t getting done by us just sitting here stewing about it. Let’s go get it over with, okay?”

They both grabbed their jackets and headed out to the car. Starsky was in no mood for idle chit chat and only had to glance at Hutch to know his partner was reading him loud and clear. However, on the way out of Metro, they ran into one of their closest friends on the detective squad, who couldn’t read his face the same way Hutch could.

“What’s wrong with you, Starsky? You look like maybe somebody keyed the Torino.”

“Ah, shut up, Johnson.” Starsky pushed past him.

Hutch shrugged and said, ”Nothing to worry about, Tom. He’s just got something on his mind right now.”

Starsky was already in the car with the engine running by the time Hutch caught up with him. He took off without another word and drove to the closest mall. “Penney’s,” he said. “That or Sears. I actually shop at Walker Scott sometimes.”

“Don’t you buy tools at Sears?”

Starsky snapped, “That’s in a completely different part of the store.”

Hutch started to chuckle.

“Don’t you dare laugh. This isn’t funny.”

“Oh, yes it is. My tough-guy partner, afraid of almost nothing, is afraid of a little lingerie.”

“I am not. In fact, I’m pretty fond of lingerie. Especially the lacy kind on a pretty lady.”

“Well, you’ll just have to steel yourself. Pretend you’re underwear, um, undercover.”

Starsky shot him a look. “Keep it up, buddy. You’re cruisin’.”

Hutch chuckled, but to Starsky’s relief he kept further sarcastic comments to himself for the remainder of the trip to the mall.

They found their way to the lingerie department and started looking. Within minutes they were approached by a saleswoman who looked to be in her early sixties. She had her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose and was giving them a suspicious look over the rims.

“Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?” she asked. Penney’s wasn’t the type of store where men came to buy their ladies pretty underwear.

“No, ma’am, we’re fine,” Starsky said. He wanted her to leave them alone until it was time to pay, but just knew Hutch wasn’t going to play along with that.

“Yes, ma’am,” Hutch said. “My friend here is looking for something in the full-figured size range.”

“Oh? Is this a gift?”

“Yes,” Starsky snapped, shooting another look at Hutch that should have clearly conveyed to him that he needed to zip it.

The woman pursed her lips and said, “This way.”

She walked away from them and Starsky made a fist and said, “Payback’s a bitch, Hutchinson.”

If there was anyone on earth who could actually intimidate Hutch, his partner wasn’t that person and Starsky knew it. Hutch laughed a little, turned Starsky around and pushed his shoulder before he said, “Follow the nice lady.”

When they reached the right area, she turned around and said, “Do you have a color in mind?”

Starsky really hadn’t given any thought to the logistics. “Uh, just white is fine.”

Hutch walked around behind the saleswoman and started to look through the merchandise.

“Plain or lace?”

“Plain.”

“Underwire or not?”

Starsky was starting to get irritated. This was exactly why he wanted to do this without her help.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. He looked past her shoulder at his partner. His shoulders were shaking with laughter at Starsky’s predicament, but he wasn’t making a sound.

“I see,” she said. Then, she turned toward Hutch and said, “Sir, would you mind not handling the merchandise?”

“Yeah, Hutch,” Starsky said. “What’re you some kind of pervert?”

The woman didn’t comment on that. She just walked a few steps toward what Starsky thought looked like a very boring, serviceable group of bras.

“Size?”

That was when Hutch lost it and started to chuckle aloud. Before Starsky could answer he said, “About big enough to fit him.”

“All right, you two,” the woman said. “That’s enough. Why don’t you just move along now?”

Starsky sighed and said, “I’m sorry,” he looked at her name badge, “Betty. Look, we’re cops and I have to go undercover. Really undercover, understand?”

“Oh,” she said. “Why didn’t you just say so.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a measuring tape. “Put your arms out,” she instructed.

“I’m wearing a gun, ma’am. Should I take off my holster?”

“That would be best, Officer.”

Starsky took his jacket and holster off and handed them to the partner he was planning to kill as soon as they left the store.

Betty was measuring him when a teenage girl came around some racks and spotted them.

She froze in her tracks and her eyes got wide. The girl reversed direction and said, “Mom!”

Starsky felt his face go bright red and hot and knew Hutch saw it when his partner started to laugh harder.

“Would you mind hurrying up, Betty. This is kind of embarrassing.”

She ignored him. After she finished her measurements, she pulled out several bras and held them up to Starsky’s chest one at a time, shaking her head at each one. Finally, she nodded and said, “This one. It’s even on sale.” She pulled at the cups and turned her head a little to make sure she’d found the right one.

“You might even be able to hide your badge in there.”

Hutch was laughing so hard, he was holding his stomach. Even the murderous looks Starsky was shooting his way did nothing to squelch him.

“Thanks,” Starsky said. When Betty walked away from them to head toward the cash register, he whispered to his still chuckling partner, “You are so dead.”

“I know,” Hutch said. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” He handed Starsky his jacket and holster.

“Try harder!”

When he reached the cash register, Betty asked him a question that must have been automatic because she didn’t seem to realize how silly it was before she asked it. “Are you a member of our bra and panty club?”

That appeared to be the final straw for Hutch. Sputtering through his laughter, he said, “I’ll be in the car so you won’t be tempted to re-decorate my face.”

Starsky could hear him laughing as he rapidly exited the area just in time to avoid being punched right there in the lingerie department

“Sorry about that.” Betty said. “Is he your partner?”

“Yes, ma’am. My soon to be late partner.”

“Oh, don’t be too hard on him. It really is pretty funny.”

At last, Starsky accepted the ridiculousness of the situation and he smiled at her. “Yes, I suppose it is. I guess I would have laughed just as hard.”

Betty took his cash and gave him his change. “Don’t kill him, okay?”

“I won’t really. He is going to pay. I just have to figure out how.”

By the time he got back out to the parking lot, Hutch had driven the Torino over to pick him up, saying, “No time to kill me now, buddy. We’re on a call.”

Starsky tossed his purchase into the back seat and hopped in. As he slapped the light up on the roof and hit the siren he said, “Revenge is a dish best served cold, partner.”