Wrong Face in the Wrong Place

117

Starsky goes undercover after a series of attacks happen near the same bar. Hutch keeps an anxious eye on his partner.

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Starsky looked carefully around the bar and then spoke to the air: “Two possible targets tonight.”

He carried on drying the beer glass in his hand and then placed it neatly back on the shelf. This was his fourth shift as bartender at Larry’s Bar and he hoped it might be his last, not for his sake but for Hutch’s. While he was able to keep busy and chat to people in his undercover role, Hutch was sitting in a small room in the motel opposite twiddling his thumbs. He had nothing to do except hear the noises of the bar through the wire Starsky was wearing and listen to the occasional comment Starsky sent his way. They both disliked undercover work, especially if it meant they couldn’t keep eyes on each other. At least this time, Starsky had the comfort of the wire. He snorted to himself at his choice of words. Comfort? Hardly. Taking the sticky pads off each night was playing havoc with his chest hair!

He could imagine his partner wondering what he had found amusing so quietly said, “Tell ya later, Blintz.”

A new customer came in and a group at a table decided they needed more drinks so Starsky and Jack, one of the regular bartenders, suddenly became busy and stayed that way for the next couple of hours.

/\/\/\/\/\

In the run-down hotel room, Hutch heard Starsky snort and wondered what had amused his partner. A moment later, the words, “Tell ya later, Blintz,” came over the wire. Hutch grinned.

“Make sure you do, Gordo,” he said.

He moved over to the small window and peered out. His view of the bar was restricted. He could see people coming and going and get a slight impression of them but he had to rely on his partner alerting him to possible targets and possible perpetrators.

They were here because over the last six weeks, there had been three random attacks on men, who had earlier in the evening been at Larry’s Bar. The men appeared to have little in common: the first was a Latino construction worker; the second, an African American store owner; and the third, a janitor in a local High School, who had been born in Mexico. All three said that they had been set upon by two large, white Caucasian men but actual details of what they looked like were sketchy. The alleyways they had chosen had been dark: perfect for hiding their faces. The third attack had the additional feature of a small knife being used – there was a real fear that the attacks were intensifying and that soon someone would end up dead.

Hutch frowned. Nobody in the press or in City Hall wanted to admit the common thread that ran through the attacks, but it was obvious that all of the victims were from ethnically divergent backgrounds and the perpetrators appeared to be white. Hutch hadn’t wanted Starsky to go undercover in the bar for obvious reasons. They’d argued about it but as usual Starsky had charmed his partner into seeing things his way.

“Look, buddy,” he’d said, “if they go after me, at least this thing will be over quicker and no-one else will get hurt. I know how to handle myself and I’ve got you for back-up. Couldn’t be in safer hands.”

Hutch peered out of the window again. He couldn’t help the restless, worried feeling that was settling in at the bottom of his stomach. Maybe it was just the waiting or maybe it was some sixth sense telling him that something was going to go wrong and it was going to be tonight.

/\/\/\/\/\

“Who are you?”

The man asking was a large, brute of a man: bald-headed, huge arm muscles bulging out of his cotton shirt sleeves and solid as a rock.

“The name’s Dave. I’m temporary relief while Ross is on holiday.”

“Hmm. Are you now?…A pitcher of beer and three glasses for that table over there.”

Starsky looked over to where the man was pointing and saw two equally thuggish looking men. Silently, he took the money he was given, rang the amount into the till and handed the man his change.

“Your face don’t fit, Dave. Looking forward to seeing Ross back here next week.”

Starsky didn’t bother responding. He simply said, “I’ll bring the beer right over.”

The man grunted at him and walked away.

“Nice fella,” Starsky commented under his breath, knowing that his partner would understand what he meant.

He readied a pitcher of beer and three glasses and placed them on a tray before carrying them over to the table. As he neared, he overheard one man muttering, “Looks like a Jew to me.” He pretended not to have heard.

“Here you are, gentlemen,” he said, as he placed the tray on the table and unloaded the items.

Two of the men muttered their thanks. The youngest of the three looked slightly embarrassed as he expressed his gratitude. Starsky nodded to him.

Starsky returned to his place behind the bar. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up; he could almost feel the glares of the men boring into his back. There was a lull in the ordering of drinks. Starsky quickly spoke to Jack and said he would go and get more ice for the tub that was running low. Jack nodded. Starsky grabbed the ice barrel and hurried out into the storage area behind the bar. Making sure the door was closed behind him, he opened the freezer and started speaking.

“Ain’t got long, partner. Got three guys, who don’t seem to like the look of me very much. Maybe nothing, maybe something. You wanna come check them out?”

Starsky filled up the ice barrel and closed the freezer door. Then he headed back to into the bar and deposited the barrel of ice back in its place before taking an order from one of the patrons now waiting at the bar. He didn’t look up as the door opened but he knew who would be entering. They had decided right at the start of the operation that Hutch would come in to assess the situation anytime Starsky felt he had a likely suspect.

Starsky felt reassured, knowing his partner was inside the bar with him. Working alone went against the grain for both of them. Even though he knew Hutch was ready to back him up from where he was watching, it always felt safer to have his partner physically present.

Hutch joined the queue at the bar, looking around as he waited without appearing as if he was observing too intently. When he reached the front of the queue, he asked for a beer. Starsky poured him one and handed it to him. A stool at one end of the bar became free and Hutch quickly slipped through the crowd of people and sat down.

He looked around again and noted a group of young men that included a solitary black man. Over in a corner, a man of Puerto Rican descent was talking to his white friend. These had to be the two Starsky had decided might be possible targets. Hutch hated that this case was making him classify people by the colour of their skin and their family heritage. But by doing that, he and Starsky were keeping a possible target safe.

The group of youngsters finished up their drinks and then headed to the door in a noisy, happy throng. The three men stayed put. Hutch risked exchanging a small look with his partner then went back to nursing his beer.

Starsky waited until there was a lull again before he swapped places with Jack and covered the end of the bar where Hutch was sitting. He picked up a cloth and a glass and began polishing.

“Still warm out?” he asked.

Hutch nodded. “Yeah. A cold beer is just what I needed.”

Starsky bent down to put the glass on the shelf under the bar. He whispered, “What do you think?”

Hutch took a sip of beer and nodded at him. Very quietly, he said, “Be careful, huh?”

Starsky caught his eye for the briefest moment and Hutch nodded back imperceptibly. Starsky’s attention was called for by a customer and he moved away.

/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch finished his drink slowly and then reluctantly got up and left the bar. Making sure no-one was watching, he hurried across the street and entered the building where he was staked-out. The knot in his stomach was tightening. He reported in to Dobey; he knew that his captain would then alert the two black and white patrol cars cruising the local area. One of these units would be told to swing by the bar shortly and stay in the area.

Hutch returned to his post by the window, his eyes glued to the door of the bar. He watched and waited. He checked the time again. It was now only thirty minutes from closing time, only an hour till Starsky would be leaving and walking the set route they had decided would give ample opportunity should someone want to make their move, but a route that would also give Hutch the chance to keep his partner in sight.

The other possible target would be kept in sight by a patrol car unless Starsky indicated that the man was leaving and that their suspects were also on the move. In that event, Hutch would have to move to follow the target, supported by a unit and Starsky would be covered by the other team waiting in the area. Hutch hoped that wouldn’t happen; he wanted to be the one watching his partner’s back.

Fifteen minutes later as some of the patrons began to head home, Hutch saw two of the men Starsky had brought to his attention coming out. At the same time, he heard Starsky say: “The older two are leaving now.”

The two men climbed into their car and drove away slowly. Hutch lost sight of the car as it rounded a corner. Hutch radioed in the make and model of the car and the licence plate; he’d already marked down the licences of every car on the street as soon as it arrived.

The doors opened again and more people came out. There was no sign of the third man. Hutch checked the time. Five minutes to go. Four minutes later, he saw Jack holding the door open and ushering people outside. Hutch thought he saw the Puerto Rican man and his friend, but he wasn’t sure. He realised that the third younger man was in amongst the last group that had come out. The man looked around and then crossed over the street and was lost to Hutch’s view. He could easily be lurking below Hutch’s window and he wouldn’t know.

“That’s everyone gone,” Starsky confirmed.

Hutch radioed in and asked to be put through to the patrol car that was scanning the area. He described both men; the possible assailant and the possible target. Tempting as it was to go and check whether the man was lying in wait for his partner down below, Hutch knew he needed to keep watch on the bar and wait for his partner’s signal before he made any kind of move.

A few minutes later, he heard Starsky’s voice saying: “All done for the night. I’m heading out now, partner.”

This was when Starsky would be most vulnerable. His wire was connected to the device in the room. Once out in the street, Hutch wouldn’t be able to hear his partner’s voice so easily. They both had their hand-held radios in their jacket pockets, but needed to be within a short distance of each other for those to work. Hutch hurried down the stairs then eased cautiously out onto the street, just in time to see Starsky making his way along the opposite sidewalk and moving away by a few yards.

Hutch waited and looked around. He couldn’t see anyone lying in wait so he moved out fully onto the sidewalk and started keeping pace with his partner, albeit from a distance. He watched as Starsky walked the length of the block, which was well-lit by streetlights and then crossed over and carried on in a northerly direction.

Hutch went to cross the street but had to jump back as a cyclist, with no lights, suddenly appeared out of the gloom and nearly mowed him down. The traffic lights changed and Hutch was no longer allowed to cross. He waited impatiently for a few seconds but, seeing the distance lengthening between him and his partner, he decided to risk jaywalking and dashed between honking cars and cabs. He lifted the radio to his lips.

“Slow down, partner.”

The radio crackled; something clearly interfering with the signal. Hutch tried contacting his partner again and also sped up, keeping his eyes fixed on Starsky, who was just heading left to cross the dimly lit park between him and his undercover apartment. Hutch didn’t want to spook anyone watching but he also didn’t want to run the risk of losing sight of Starsky. He broke into a half-jog, his guts suddenly churning. The park had too many shadowy places where people could hide easily.

“Starsky? You reading me?” Hutch spoke anxiously into the radio as he hurried through the park entrance.

The radio sprang to life: “Yeah, Blintz. All fine.”

“Slow down a bit, partner!”

“Too fast for ya? Wow, you must be getting unfit! Out.”

Hutch scanned the path ahead of him. He could just see the shape of his curly-headed partner in the distance. He sped up a little until the gap between them was a less worrying length and then slowed to an even stride.

Starsky was nearing the exit of the park, from where he would need to walk the length of one more block and then he would be able to enter the apartment building, where he would be sleeping tonight. Tomorrow, they would have to go through this all again but it would be nearly the last time for this particular stakeout. Department resources only stretched so far. If there was no break in the case by Sunday, they would have to come up with another plan.

Hutch breathed out a sigh of relief that their fears appeared to be unfounded. He wondered if the men they’d spotted were innocent of any wrongdoing or whether their police colleagues had picked them up as they went after the other possible victim tonight. Suddenly, there was commotion ahead at a place where Starsky had to pass a group of trees. Two shadowy figures, carrying something long in their hands emerged and headed straight towards his partner.

“Starssssk!” Hutch shouted out a warning.

His partner turned towards the sound of his voice and moved into a defensive stance, but he was too late to avoid the object that was swung at his head. He crumpled to the ground.

Hutch raced towards the attackers, shouting, “Police. Freeze!” as he went. He hoped that the patrol car that was supposed to be watching Starsky come out of the park was in position.  If they were alert, they would hear the commotion and come running.

The shadowy figures turned to look his way. One began to move quickly towards the exit. The other paused to give Starsky’s still body a vicious kick and then fled. As they reached the exit, Hutch could see the patrol officers arriving and giving chase. He could hear other sirens in the distance. Trusting that the patrol officers had called for back-up and they had the situation under control, Hutch headed straight to his partner.

He dropped down beside his hurt friend and assessed the damage. Starsky was out cold and had a deep gash running along the edge of his hairline. Hutch grabbed a clean handkerchief from his pocket and held it against the wound. When Hutch gently felt for other damage, he could feel a bump forming to the side of the gash. He checked Starsky’s breathing and pulse; everything seemed normal. He took off his jacket and folded it up then very carefully lifted his partner’s head to slide the jacket underneath.

There was the sound of two vehicles arriving; both patrol cars. Two officers started walking away from the park, two patrol officers hurried in. Hutch looked up.

“Get an ambulance here!”

One officer ran off to do his bidding; the other came over to see what he could do to help.

“Do you know if the first patrol arrested the men who did this?” Hutch asked.

The officer nodded. “Yes, they told Dispatch that they got them…Look!”

The officer pointed to where Hutch could see the two men being brought back in handcuffs by the uniformed officers. Under the glare of streetlights, he recognised them as the two older thugs from Larry’s Bar. Hutch had to fight the urge to find a large object and hit them with it.

“You’d better go help take those scum in,” Hutch suggested. “And see if you can find out how long that ambulance is going to take!”

As the officer moved away, Hutch spoke to his partner gently, “Hey Gordo, trust you to take a nap just as we can finally get these guys off the streets. What happened to that hard head of yours, huh? You’ve got quite a gash, but it isn’t going to spoil your good looks so don’t you worry. You going to wake up any time soon?”

There was no response from Starsky and Hutch could see blood beginning to seep through the white cotton of his handkerchief.

“You’ve ruined another of my handkerchiefs, partner. I’m going to have to start charging you for replacements.”

Hutch looked up and over to the cars and officers. He saw the two assailants being split up and made to sit in the back of different patrol cars. Briefly, he wondered how they had known where Starsky would be so that they could lie in wait for him. Hopefully, he’d find out later. Right now, all that mattered was his partner and getting him some help. He heard more sirens and an ambulance pulled up, followed by an unmarked car. Hutch breathed a sigh of relief.

“Not long now, Gordo. The docs will get you patched up soon.”

As he started to fill the ambulance crew on what had happened, Hutch remembered the kick he’d seen his partner receive. The man assessing Starsky’s condition finished his essential checks and then carefully eased up Starsky’s top to reveal an area that was red and developing signs of a nasty looking bruise. As if reacting to the revelation, Starsky’s face suddenly went very pale.

“Possible internal damage,” the paramedic stated. “We need to get him to the hospital right away.”

Hutch stepped back to allow the men to load his partner onto a stretcher and realised that Dobey was by his side.

“What happened? How’s he doing?”

“Those thugs,” Hutch nodded towards the patrol cars that were pulling away from the park, “hit him hard with something and kicked him while he was down. He’s been out cold since the attack.”

Dobey laid a hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “We’ll take care of the attackers. You go with your partner. I’ll come and find you at the hospital later and you can give me a full report on this evening’s activities.”

Hutch nodded gratefully and hurried after the ambulance crew.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

At the hospital, Hutch waited anxiously as his partner was taken for an x-ray, a scan and possibly surgery. When Starsky had been wheeled through the doors, he was still unconscious, hooked up to an IV and looking horribly pale. Hutch knew as well as the next person that head injuries could be unpredictable and dangerous. He was still waiting for news when Dobey arrived with Minnie in tow.

“No news yet,” Hutch said, in answer to Dobey’s question.

“Well, while we wait, you can give me your report and Officer Kaplan here is going to make notes and then type it up for you to check over and sign. But that can wait until tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Thank you, Minnie.”

“Happy to help. Don’t worry about that Starsky. He’s strong and he’s got the thickest skull I know,” Minnie joked.

Hutch smiled a little.

Dobey suggested they all sat down and they moved to a section of the waiting room where there were some seats away from other people, who might listen in. Once they were settled, Dobey asked his questions and Hutch recounted every detail he could. Minnie took short-hand notes in her notebook.

Once Dobey was satisfied, Minnie stood up saying, “I’ll go write these up, Hutch. You give Starsky my best when he wakes up.”

Hutch checked the time on the clock on the wall.

“What’s taking so long?”

“Why don’t I get us some cof…?” Dobey started to say, just as the doors at the end of the room opened and a nurse came through with a clipboard.

“Detective Hutchinson?” she called.

Hutch and Dobey stood up and made their way over to her.

“How’s my partner?”

“If you’d like to come with me, you can see him and the doctor will talk to you about treatment,” the nurse said calmly.

Exchanging worried glances, Hutch and Dobey followed the nurse along the corridor and then up one floor by elevator. She led them along the corridor to a room. When they stepped into the room, they could see Starsky in the bed and a doctor checking his chart. The doctor turned towards them and held out his hand.

“Detective Hutchinson, hello again. Captain Dobey, how are you?”

Hutch relaxed a little. Dr Franklin was a doctor he trusted and he knew Starsky’s medical history inside out. He was in safe hands.

“How’s he doing, Doctor Franklin?” Dobey asked, as Hutch moved close enough to the bed to place a hand on his partner’s arm.

“He had some internal bleeding – from a kick to his side, I understand – so a surgeon had to go in. He got the bleeding under control quickly so we should start to see some improvement in Detective Starsky’s readings soon. The blow to the head has caused a nasty concussion, but there doesn’t appear to be any dangerous swelling of the brain.”

“But there is some swelling?” Hutch immediately picked up on what Dr Franklin had said.

“Yes, but it’s within safe limits. We’re giving him medications to calm the inflammation and keep the pain under control. We will be keeping a close eye on him for the next twelve hours. He’s going to wake up with a nasty headache, but he will wake up. I wouldn’t think it would be too many hours before he does.”

Hutch breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome. I assume you will be staying with your friend?”

Hutch nodded.

Dobey spoke: “Thank you, Doctor Franklin. I’ll walk out with you. Hutchinson, I’d better get back to the squad. Babcock and Simmons can take care of the interviews once they’ve seen your report. I’ll be back later for an update on Starsky…Don’t forget to eat something,” he added kindly.

“Thanks.”

As the door closed, Hutch placed a hand very gently on the collection of unruly curls that were sticking out above the bandage keeping his friend’s head-wound clean. Starsky didn’t stir.

“You’re going to be fine, partner,” Hutch said, in a clear but quiet voice. “You’re going to have one heck of a headache but you’re going to be fine. I’ll be waiting here until you wake up so don’t make it too long, okay, Gordo?”

Hutch grabbed the chair that was in the room and moved it nearer to the bed.

“You did a great job, this week, Starsky. But I wish I hadn’t let you talk me into letting you make yourself a target. Next time, I’ll go undercover. You can be the back-up. Okay?…Nothing to say? Well, that’s that settled then.”

Hutch leaned back in the chair and ran a hand over his face.

“I was really worried, partner. When I saw those thugs attack you…Good job the uniformed guys got to do the arresting. I think I might have lost it with them. I certainly wanted to hit them with something hard.”

He waited as if Starsky was speaking and then added, “Yeah, yeah, I know. No point descending to their level but I know you’d have had the same thought.”

His stomach rumbled and Hutch realised that he hadn’t eaten anything for hours.

“I’m hungry, pal. I’m going get something to eat and then be right back. You want anything?…Okay, well I’ll choose something healthy for you then.” He squeezed Starsky’s hand before he left the room. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

When Hutch came back, Starsky looked unchanged but the nurse checking his vital signs gave him a smile and said, “He’s doing better.”

Hutch ate his sandwich and drank as much of the hospital coffee as he could stand. Then he opened the paper he’d purchased and started reading articles to Starsky. Two hours later, Dobey interrupted his reading briefly to get an update on Starsky and let Hutch know the outcome of the interviews. Then, after wishing Hutch ‘good night’, Dobey headed home for some well-earned rest. Hutch returned to his reading and then dozed a little.

A few hours later, Starsky began to stir. Instantly alert, Hutch stood up and took his partner’s hand in his.

“Hey, Gordo, welcome back. Just take it easy. Don’t try to move around too much.”

Starsky’s eyelids fluttered and he whispered, “H-Hutch.”

“Yeah, buddy, right here. You’re in the hospital but you’re okay.”

It took another couple of minutes for Starsky to fully open his eyes. When he did, he winced.

“Ow, my head.”

“Yeah, you got a concussion. I’ll call the nurse and see if you’re due any more pain meds.”

Hutch pressed the call button.

“Did you get them?”

“Yeah, we got them, partner.”

“Are they in one piece or did you take ‘em apart?”

Hutch smiled ruefully as he said, “Thought about it but decided to let the uniformed boys deal with them. Dobey got Simmons and Babcock to conduct the interviews.”

“Just as well.” Starsky tried to nod and instantly regretted it.

“It took a while but eventually one of them admitted to the assaults. It was the two older guys, the younger one wasn’t involved. They said that they’d asked one of the waitresses where you lived and she told them which street. I’ve a good mind to-”

“Hey, easy partner, not her fault that she didn’t think and besides it made them act tonight and got this case over with,” Starsky pointed out.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Hutch reluctantly agreed.

Just then the nurse came in. “Oh good, you’re awake. I’ll let Doctor Franklin know.”

“He needs some pain meds,” Hutch said.

The nurse nodded as she left.

“Sit down, Nurse Hutchinson,” Starsky teased. “They know what I need. They’ll see to it.”

Hutch grinned sheepishly and sat back down. “By the way, thanks for agreeing to let me go undercover next time.”

Starsky looked nonplussed. “When did I agree to that?”

“If you can’t be bothered to turn up to meetings then these things will get decided without you,” Hutch said.

Starsky rolled his eyes. After a moment, he looked worried. “Hutch? I think this concussion’s affected my sense of smell!”

“Oh no. You mean you can’t smell the flowers in that vase or the antiseptic smell of the room.”

“I can smell all of that,” Starsky said. “But I swear I can smell pastrami.”

Hutch chuckled and reached under his chair for a small brown bag. “Got you a pastrami and mustard sandwich for later.”

“For later? What’s wrong with right now?”

Hutch deliberated and then handed the bag over. “Just eat it slowly,” he warned.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m starving. I could eat a horse.”

Hutch leant back in his chair and smiled as he watched his partner devour the sandwich. He knew that a return of appetite meant all was well with his friend.