Title: Till Death Do Us Part
Author: Sparkle731
Type: General Fiction
Summary: On the way
back to
Disclaimer: I do not
own the characters of Starsky and Hutch. This Story is written for
entertainment purposes only and no money is received.
Format: Story
Categories: Starsky
HC, Hutch angst
Rating: General
Audience
TILL DEATH DO US PART
FLIGHT 219
Detective Kenneth Hutchinson pulled his battered brown LTD into the vast parking lot at LAX. Cursing softly under his breath, he drove up one row and down another until he finally found a parking space. Shoving open the door that had a tendency to stick, he pocketed his keys as he sprinted across the lot towards the entrance to the terminal. Inside the building, he made his way through the clusters of people either waiting to board an outgoing flight or arriving from other destinations. His crystal blue eyes scanned the overhead signs until he found Gate 23. He walked into the waiting area and slumped down on one of the hard plastic chairs that were molded together into a row and bolted to the floor.
Glancing up at the arrival screen mounted on the wall, he
saw that flight 219 from
“Excuse me. Do you have a light?” said a soft melodious voice to his left. He turned his head to look at a pretty brunette in her mid-twenties who was standing beside him with an expectant smile. She was holding an unlit cigarette in one hand, waiting patiently for him to respond to her question.
“No, I’m sorry.” Hutch told her with a faint smile tugging at the corners of his finely chiseled mouth. “I don’t smoke.”
“Oh, well…” the girl said with a bright smile and a shrug of her shoulders “It’s bad for you anyway.” She opened the bag slung over her shoulder and took out a cigarette case, putting the unlit cigarette away. Slipping the case back into her bag, she nodded at the empty seat beside him. “Do you mind if I join you?” When he shook his head to indicate that he didn’t mind, she gracefully slid into the seat. “I’m Cheryl Madison.” She said introducing herself to the handsome man she had spotted from across the room.
“Ken Hutchinson. My friends call me Hutch.” He replied with a grin, introducing himself to the woman who had decided to join him. With his Nordic good looks, Hutch was used to women coming on to him. They did it all the time and he had learned to accept their advances with charm and good grace.
“Are you waiting for someone?” she asked, stealing a furtive glance at his hands. She was pleased to note that he wasn’t wearing a ring but she knew that didn’t mean much these days.
“My partner.” Hutch told her “He’s coming in on the flight
from
“Oh….” Cheryl said an embarrassed smile crossing her face.
“I’m waiting for my sister. She’s coming in on the flight from
“That’s right.” Hutch said with a chuckle “A homicide detective to be exact.”
“I guess that explains why you’re not in a uniform.”
“Something like that.”
“That must be interesting.”
“It can be.” Hutch said politely, enjoying the casual conversation to pass the time while he waited for Starsky’s flight to arrive.
“I’m a hostess at the Apallo Nightclub.” Cheryl told him trying to keep the conversation going so she could get to know this attractive man a little bit better. “At least in the evenings I am. During the day I’m a student at U.C.L.A.”
“What’s your major?”
“Pre-Law.”
“Good luck.” Hutch told her with a soft chuckle remembering his own college days as a pre-law student. He missed her reply, his attention immediately drawn to the sudden activity in and around the ticket counter. His mind automatically slipped into cop mode, a sixth sense instinctively telling him that something was going on. His instincts were confirmed a few moments later by an announcement over the terminal’s loudspeakers.
“Flight 219 from New York has been delayed. Would anyone waiting for passengers on that flight, please contact one of the terminal agents immediately.”
Hutch was on his feet even before the announcement ended and heading towards the counter. Excusing himself, he pushed his way to the front of the line and pulled his identification out of his hip pocket. Showing his badge to the girl behind the counter, he said, “I’m Detective Hutchinson with the Bay City Police Department. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not at liberty to give you any information.” The girl said in an anxious voice, eyeing the tall blond-haired man nervously. “If you’d like to step aside, I’ll see if my supervisor is available to talk to you.”
“You do that.” Hutch said, his tone of voice making it clear that someone had better give him some answers and quickly. He stepped aside, moving away from the counter to stand next to the boarding ramp. Other friends and family members who were waiting for flight 219 crowded around the counter, loud anxious voices demanding to know what was going on.
Hutch watched as a middle-aged man wearing a LAX employee uniform walked behind the counter and paused to speak to the young girl that Hutch had just spoken with. With a quick glance in his direction, she inclined her head towards Hutch. The man nodded and straightened his shoulders as he walked from behind the counter. Planting a phony smile on his sharp features, he headed towards the worried detective.
“I’m William Scott, Airport Security Supervisor.” He said, offering Hutch his hand. Hutch took the offered hand and shook it firmly. Showing the man his identification, he said,
“Detective Hutchinson. Bay City P.D. Can you tell me what’s going on with flight 219?”
“Are you expecting someone on that flight?” the other man asked cautiously without volunteering any information.
“My partner, Detective David Starsky is on that flight.” Hutch told him in the same tone that made the criminals he dealt with cringe. “I want to know what’s going on. You wouldn’t have made that announcement if the flight was just going to be delayed for a couple of hours.”
“Perhaps you’d better come to my office, Detective.” The older man said solemnly “So we can talk privately.”
Hutch felt an uneasy churning sensation in the pit of his stomach and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Bracing himself for bad news, he followed the man down a short hallway directly behind the ticket counter to the last door on the right. As the two men stepped inside, the official for the airlines shut the door behind them and motioned for Hutch to have a seat in one of the lush leather bound chairs facing his desk.
“No, thank you.” Hutch said firmly “I think I’d rather stand.”
“Very well.” The other man said with a sigh of resignation. He sat down on the edge of his desk and looked at the tall blond detective with the fire in his eyes. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he said “We’ve received unconfirmed reports that flight 219 has crashed somewhere over Utah.”
Hutch’s face turned white and he staggered backwards a step. He felt like he’d been punched in the chest with a wreaking ball and his heart started pounding frantically as he fought to maintain his composure in front of this stranger. “But those reports are still unconfirmed, correct?” he asked, his mouth suddenly feeling as if it had been stuffed full of cotton.
“That is correct but all contact with the flight has been lost and it is no longer showing up on the radar screen. I’m sorry but I really can’t give you any more information than that right now.”
“Well how soon can you give me some more information?” Hutch demanded, his voice turning harsh and cold. He knew that this man was only doing his job. It was up to him to try and keep worried friends and family members of passengers on that flight calm until they knew something more definite, but Hutch wasn’t in mood to play his games right now.
“We should know something definite within the next couple of hours. There’s a private lounge where friends and family members are being asked to wait.”
“I have to make a phone call first.” Hutch said flatly giving the other man an icy stare.
“Of course. Feel free to use my phone. Dial nine for an outside line.” He slid off the desk. “I really must go now….when you’re finished with your call, just ask one of the girls at the counter to direct you to the lounge.”
Hutch ignored him as the airline official walked out the door. He was already dialing the number for police headquarters so he could inform his immediate superior of the news. When the switchboard operator’s voice came on the line, he said gruffly,
“Captain Dobey, please.” He waited impatiently for Dobey to pick up. Finally, Dobey’s voice growled in his ear,
“This is Dobey.”
“Cap, it’s Hutch.”
“I thought Starsky’s flight wasn’t due in until two.”
“Cap, there are unconfirmed reports that the flight went down. They think it crashed somewhere in Utah.” Hutch said, trying to keep the catch out of his voice as he delivered the news. Saying the words out loud only increased his own fear for his partner’s safety.
“Oh, my god…” Dobey said softly “How soon will you know for sure?”
“A couple of hours probably.”
“I’m on my way.” Dobey hung up without saying another word, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair as he rushed out of his office at police headquarters.
Hutch hung up the phone and slumped down in one of the chairs facing the desk, his legs giving out beneath him. He knew that he had to keep it together; he couldn’t lose control now no matter how much he wanted to. Starsky wasn’t just his partner, he was his best friend and Hutch said a silent prayer that somehow he was all right. He had to be all right. If he wasn’t, Hutch knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it. They were close, almost too close sometimes. If anything happened to Starsky, Hutch knew that he would lose the best part of himself.
Starsky and Hutch had always shared a unique, almost psychic connection. They could say more with just a glance or a touch than most people could say verbally. It was unnerving to be around them when they started communicating with each other non-verbally. And even when they did carry on a regular conversation, it was often hard to follow because of their tendency to finish each other’s thoughts or sentences. Hutch had always relied on that bond, that connection, to tell him when Starsky was hurt or in trouble. If he were dead, Hutch believed that he would know he would feel it somehow. But all he could feel at the moment was an overwhelming fear that consumed his mind and his soul. Finally, he shoved himself to his feet and left the office to find the lounge where he could wait for more news on flight 219.
NO SURVIVORS
The crowd of people in the private lounge had grown larger as phone calls were made and other family members and friends arrived to wait for news on the fate of flight 219. The sound of voices throughout the room was strangely muted and hushed as the anxious relatives and friends talked quietly among themselves. Hutch and Captain Dobey stood in the far corner of the room eyeing the subdued activity around them. Hutch was drinking a cup of coffee that Captain Dobey had gotten for him out of the vending machine, barely noticing the foul bitter taste.
“Maybe Starsky took a later flight.” Dobey said lightly, trying to provide Hutch with a ray of hope about the safety of his partner and friend.
“He called me last night and said he’d be on this flight.” Hutch said in a voice that was void of any emotion. “He would have let me know if he changed his plans. He knew I was picking him up.” To outsiders, Hutch appeared calm in control but Captain Dobey knew the tall blond well enough to know that it was a façade, Hutch was barely holding it together.
“Have you called his mother?” Dobey asked, knowing that Rachel Starsky needed to be notified but dreading the idea of having to be the one to make that call. Even though she had sent her eldest son to California when he was twelve years old to live with her sister, she had remained in close contact through the years. A visit to his mother had been the reason for Starsky’s trip to New York in the first place.
“No.” Hutch said in a grave voice, the line between his eyes deepening as it did when he was under a lot of stress “Not until we know for sure that the plane is down.” “If the news is bad, she needs to hear it from you and not on the six o’clock news.” Dobey said pointedly.
“I know that, Captain!” Hutch snapped in an irritated voice that was sharp with anger and frustration. Dobey ignored the outburst. He knew how close the two detectives were and how worried Hutch was about his partner. Hutch took a deep breath and exhaled slowly “I’m sorry, Cap.” He said, “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just don’t want to upset Rachel until we know for sure.”
“I know.” Dobey said putting a comforting hand on the tall blond’s shoulder. Dobey cared about all the men under his command, but Hutch and his partner were his best team and close personal friends of the Dobey family.
Hutch glanced up as the door to the lounge opened and a tall thin black man dressed in an outrageous ensemble consisting of a bright yellow shirt, a multicolored vest and shiny black pants entered the room. The man’s soft brown eyes swept across the room until he spotted Hutch and Dobey standing in the corner. With a confident stride, Huggy Bear joined them. Huggy was a close friend and sometime informant of the two detectives. He had left the restaurant/bar he owned and managed as soon as Hutch called him and came directly to the airport to wait for news about Starsky.
“Any news yet?” the thin black man asked anxiously as he joined the them.
“Not yet.” Hutch told him, as he finished the coffee and threw his cup into a nearby
trashcan. He had stopped smoking years ago while he was still in College but the sudden urge for a cigarette to help soothe his ragged nerves was almost overwhelming.
“He’s got nine lives….you wait and see, he’s gonna be okay.”
“I wish I could believe that, Hug.” Hutch said dryly “But this time Starsky’s luck might have just ran out.”
The three men fell into an uneasy silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
Starsky had a significant impact on each of their lives. Huggy Bear had been friends with the dark haired detective since he came back from Viet Nam and he knew some of his darkest secrets. Captain Dobey had been his superior officer for almost seven years and even though he got frustrated and annoyed with the dark half of his best team of detectives, he sincerely liked the man. And Hutch was his partner and his best friend but that friendship went far beyond any friendship either of them had ever known. They were true soul mates in every sense of the word and had been ever since the day they met at the police academy over ten years ago.
They had become even closer than ever after Starsky was gunned down in the police impound lot eighteen months ago and almost died from his injuries. Three direct hits to his torso had caused massive damage. His heart had stopped three times. Once in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, once in the operating room during the emergency surgery to save his life, and then for the third time later that evening. He was a medical miracle, a man who shouldn’t have survived his injuries but did. He was in a coma for almost a week and in the hospital for two months.
When he got out of the hospital, Hutch had moved in with Starsky to care for him and nurse him back to health during an intensive recovery period that took almost a year to complete. He had fought long and hard to re-qualify to go back on the streets as Hutch’s partner. He had been back at Hutch’s side for just over eight months and was in the best shape of his life. Hutch had hunted down the man responsible for ordering the hit on Starsky and had seen him brought to justice. He was currently serving a life sentence for his crimes.
The other voices in the room fell silent as the doors opened to admit four men, all dressed in the official uniforms of the airline. One of them was the head of security who had talked to Hutch earlier. Everyone’s attention focused on the four men as they walked over to a long table at one end of the room. Standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the table, the tallest of the four men, stepped forward and said,
“My name is Peter Madison and I am Vice President of International Airlines. These gentlemen with me are William Scott, head of airport security, James Peterson, his assistant, and my assistant, John Livingston.” He paused briefly after the introductions were made and let his eyes sweep across the anxious faces gathered around the room. “I regret to inform you that at 1:25 P.M. today, International Airlines flight 219 crashed approximately 25 miles outside of Provo, Utah. There are no reported survivors.”
The room immediately burst into chaos at the announcement that none of the friends and relatives gathered there wanted to hear. Several people started shouting questions at the four men representing the airlines and LAX. Several other people broke down into tears, the sound of their sobbing filling the air. Dobey and Huggy both immediately turned their attention to the tall blond standing between them. Hutch’s face had drained off color, every muscle in his body tightening noticeably. He would keep his own pain and grief tightly under control until they were alone. He would not break down in front of anyone, not even his friends.
The spokesperson for the group of representatives facing the crowd raised his hand for silence. When the room was relatively quiet, he said, “We’ll try to answer any questions you might have but remember that at this time, our information is very limited concerning the crash of flight 219.”
“Are you sure there were no survivors?” several people called out at the same time, voicing the most important question to most of the people in the room.
“At this time, there are no reports of any known survivors.” Mr. Madison replied solemnly. “Passenger lists are being faxed so we can compare the lists of who was actually on the plane and any passengers that may have missed the flight or rescheduled.”
His eyes scanned the room again, “Representatives from the airlines will be available to assist friends and family members with further details as they become available.”
“What caused the crash?” someone else yelled out from the back of the room
“At this time there are unconfirmed reports that suggest there may have been a bomb on board the flight.” Mr. Madison nodded at the other men beside him and continued, “I’m afraid that’s all the information we have available for you at this time. Please remain here and representatives from the airlines will let you know more information as soon as it becomes available.”
As the four men started to leave the room, Hutch shoved his way through the crowd, followed closely by Huggy and Captain Dobey. As the men reached the doorway, Hutch caught up with them and said sharply “Hold up a minute. I have some more questions I need answered!”
The four men paused and turned to look at the other three men cautiously. Mr. Scott recognized Hutch from their earlier encounter and said “Oh, yes….Detective Hutchinson, isn’t it?”
“Yes. My partner was that plane.”
“Please gentlemen,” Mr. Madison said cordially, “Why don’t we go to one of the conference rooms where we can talk in private?”
The men all walked down a long hallway to a large conference room and went inside. Mr. Scott shut the door behind them and said “I’m afraid we really don’t have any additional information for you gentlemen at this time.”
“I’m Captain Harold Dobey from the Bay City Police Department” Captain Dobey said, stepping forward and taking control of the situation. “An officer from my department was supposed to be on that plane and it is imperative that I know as soon as possible if Detective David Starsky was one of the passengers on board that flight or not.”
“Captain, I understand your concern and I sympathize with you. I assure you that we will let you know about your man as soon as we possibly can” Mr. Madison told him in a calm reasonable voice. “Now may I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“In view of the fact that one of the passengers on that flight may have been your detective…do you think there is any possibility that he could have been the reason someone would plant a bomb on one of my planes?”
“He was in New York on vacation visiting his family!” Hutch growled, his eyes flashing coldly at the man’s words. “If someone wanted to take him out, I don’t think they’d plant a bomb on one of your planes to do it!”
“Hutchinson!” Dobey said firmly, trying to defuse the big blond before he lost control. He turned to give the other men an icy glare of his own. “Before you make any accusations involving one of my men, you’d better make sure you have evidence to back that up!”
“Captain Dobey, Detective Hutchinson…” Mr. Madison said politely “No one is making any accusations…we are just considering all the possible theories behind the crash. Obviously the fact that one of the passengers just happened to be a police detective from our fair city has to be considered as a possible motive for someone to plant a bomb on that plane.”
“Like the Captain said, you’d better make sure you have plenty evidence to support that theory before you go making any accusations about my partner!” Hutch growled in a cold, deadly voice.
“Gentlemen, please….” Mr. Madison said realizing that the situation was reaching the critical point. “No one is making any accusations at this time. A complete investigation will be conducted to determine the exact circumstances surrounding the crash.” He looked at the other three men coolly “Now, if you will excuse us….we have other pressing matters to attend to.”
As the other four men representing the airlines left the room, Hutch began pacing the office, muttering obscenities under his breath as he fought to control his anger. Dobey and Huggy sat down on the lush leather sofa sitting against one wall to wait for the big detective to vent his anger and frustration. None of them could bring themselves to say the words out loud, but they all knew that it didn’t look good as far as Starsky was concerned.
SAYING GOODBYE
The church was crowded with people, the pews full with the overflow standing in the back of the room. They had come to pay their last respects to Detective Sergeant First Class David Micheal Starsky. A hero’s farewell with full departmental honors. Hutch let his mind wander, refusing to focus on his surroundings. It was too painful. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare. If he just concentrated hard enough he would be able to wake up and things would be back to normal. But things would never be normal again. Starsky was gone and he was never coming back. And the pain in Hutch’s chest was threatening to crush him like a vice around his heart.
A passenger’s list from the doomed flight showed that Starsky had gotten on board the plane in New York City. He had been sitting in seat 14 B. It was determined that the crash had been caused by a bomb hidden on board the flight. The final report showed that the major impact of the blast had taken out sections 12 through 16, totally destroying that section of the plane and anyone who had been sitting there. Starsky’s friends and family didn’t even have the comfort of having a body to claim for burial.
This memorial service was being held in California for his friends and fellow officers there. A second memorial service would be held in New York later in the week for his family members.
Since the crash, one day had blurred into another, an endless void of debilitating grief that was slowing destroying the blond detective. Losing Starsky had caused Hutch to lose a part of himself, a vital part that could never be replaced. He found himself alone and drifting in a world that he no longer wanted to be a part of, not without Starsky by his side. Besides the almost paralyzing grief that threatened to overwhelm him,
Hutch was also consumed by a deep-seated rage, a rage that he had no outlet for. There was no perp to go after and hunt down to avenge his partner’s murder. Nothing to distract him and occupy his mind by doing what he did best. Without an outlet for that rage, Hutch turned it inward on himself, blaming himself in some obscure way for not protecting his partner. . He was already shutting himself off from his friends and colleagues, building a wall around his emotions that nobody could penetrate. He was going through the motions of living even though he was already dead inside.
Finally, the memorial service came to a merciful end. Hutch felt Huggy tugging at his arm, helping him to his feet. Eyes lowered to avoid looking at the sympathy and pity he could see in the other mourners eyes, Hutch allowed himself to be led from the building. Captain Dobey had insisted that Hutch stay with him and his wife for a few days, unwilling to let the devastated man be alone. Hutch had protested but he was quickly overruled. Too exhausted emotionally and mentally from the events of the past few days, he had reluctantly given in. In the end, he knew that nobody would be able to protect him from himself.
When they got back to Captain Dobey’s home, Hutch immediately inside and stumbled up the stairs to the room where he would be sleeping and closed the door, shutting out the world around him. Edith Dobey glanced at her husband worriedly, her dark brown eyes brimming with tears. In a soft forlorn voice she said,
“He’s not getting any better, is he?”
“No…and I’m scared to death that we’re going to lose him too.” Dobey admitted, “Him and Starsky were just too close….I’m not sure that he can go on without Starsky. He doesn’t want to.”
“You still have his gun, don’t you?” she asked glancing at her husband sharply.
“Yes. I took it away from him as soon as we found out that Starsky was on that plane.” Dobey turned to look at his wife solemnly “But that won’t stop him from hurting himself if he really wants to.” He sighed deeply. He knew there was only so much he could do for the tall blond detective.
“He’s already dying….” Edith Dobey said sadly “A little more each day.”
“I’ll try talking to him again later.” Dobey promised, slipping an arm around his wife’s shoulders and giving her a reassuring hug. He had never felt so helpless in his life.
“Has he eaten anything?”
Dobey shook his head “Not that I know of….nothing for the past three days.”
“I’ll make something and try to get him to eat. He needs to keep up his strength.” Edith smiled faintly “I’ll have Rosie take it up to him. Maybe he’ll eat something for her.”
Dobey smiled. Starsky and Hutch were both extremely fond of his six-year-old daughter, Rosie. “That’s a good idea.” Dobey said agreeing wholeheartedly with the idea.
As Edith went into the kitchen to try to find something to tempt Hutch’s appetite, Dobey went upstairs to his bedroom to change into something more comfortable.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
At the end of that week, Hutch insisted on returning to his own apartment. The Dobeys reluctantly agreed. They knew they couldn’t force him to stay with them if he didn’t want to. Hutch was still teetering on the edge, barely keeping his raging emotions in check but he knew how to put up a convincing front. That was what made him such a good undercover detective. He knew that everyone was worried about him but he didn’t want their pity. He just wanted to be alone with his memories and his pain. That was all he had left anymore. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not for him and Starsky.
Captain Dobey had put him on compassionate leave so he didn’t have to worry about work. And he didn’t know when or if he would ever return to the job. He knew that he would never work the streets again not with another partner besides Starsky. He had been disillusioned with the job for a long time. The only reason he hadn’t quit before now was because of his partnership with Starsky. But with Starsky gone, the job no longer meant anything to him. He had a trust fund that his grandfather had left him years ago, so he had enough money to live on comfortably for the rest of his life without working. But, in his heart, he knew that his present lifespan wouldn’t be very long.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hutch glared at Nick Starsky as he pawed through the clothes in Starsky’s closet. He had never liked Starsky’s younger brother and those feelings had not changed over the years. The younger Starsky brother was brash, obnoxious and overbearing. Rachel had insisted that Hutch keep anything he wanted of Starsky’s. She had given him first choice over Nick, a decision that had not set well with Nicky who had always resented the friendship between Hutch and his brother.
The only items that Hutch had chosen to keep to remember his best friend by had been his guitar, his record collection, the model ships he had enjoyed building for relaxation, Starsky’s camera equipment, and his favorite brown leather jacket. He had also kept all the pictures of himself and Starsky, along with several shots of Starsky by himself or with Terri. Hutch had been surprised when Rachel had called him and told him that she was coming to Bay City to go through Starsky’s things and to clean out his apartment. She had wanted Hutch to be there when she did. He reluctantly agreed, knowing that this final step in disposing of Starsky’s possessions would be like a knife through his heart and one more nail in his own coffin.
Rachel had arranged for the furniture and household items to be donated to a local charity along with the clothes that Nick didn’t want. Hutch had helped her to box up items and mark them so they’d be ready for pickup while Nick picked through the items his brother had collected over his lifetime. Hutch resented watching the younger man pick up various items and examine them, more concerned with their monetary value then any sentimental value. Hutch knew that the two brothers had never been close and in Hutch’s mind, the younger man had no right to anything that had belonged to Starsky. But he had the connection through blood that Hutch could never share. In his heart, Hutch knew that Starsky had considered him more his brother than Nicky ever was.
Nicky’s barely concealed hatred for Hutch flared when Rachel insisted that Hutch keep the Torino. Hutch didn’t try to hide his smug smile as Nicky yelled and cursed, arguing with his mother about her decision to give the car to Hutch. He knew that Nicky had been planning to lay claim to the Torino. He watched in amusement as Rachel displayed the same steely determination and stubbornness as her oldest son as she told Nicky in no uncertain terms that Hutch had more right to the Torino than Nicky did. She told her youngest son that she knew her oldest son would have wanted Hutch to have the car and that she intended to see that his wishes were carried out.
As the mother and son argued about her decision, Hutch let his mind wander to all the hours he had spent in the Torino with Starsky. He had complained outrageously about Starsky’s vehicle but the truth was, that car had been a big part of who Starsky was and Hutch was grateful that Rachel had let him keep it so that it didn’t wind up in Nicky’s possession. Even though Hutch knew that he would never be able to drive the car again himself, he would always cherish it because it had meant so much to Starsky.
Finally, the painful process of cleaning out the apartment and getting rid of Starsky’s material possessions was finished. Rachel kissed Hutch goodbye and invited him to come to New York for a visit whenever he wanted. Rachel Starsky had adopted Hutch as her son the first time that Starsky had taken him back to New York with him to meet her. And he sincerely liked the lady and respected her, even if he couldn’t stand Nicky. But he knew that visiting her in New York would be far to painful for him. As he watched her walk away, he knew that he would probably never see her again.
Locking Starsky’s apartment for the last time, Hutch turned and slowly climbed back down the steps. Climbing into his car, he drove back to his own apartment. He unloaded the items he had kept for himself and carried them into his apartment, storing them out of sight in a hallway closet. He would call Huggy later and ask him to pick up the Torino and put safely in storage. Grabbing a bottle of Jim Beam from underneath the kitchen cabinet, Hutch opened it and sat down on the sofa to drink himself into oblivion. If he got drunk enough, maybe tonight he would be able to sleep without the nightmares that had plagued him since losing his best friend and partner.
ALCOHOL HAZE
“Hug, give me another drink.” Hutch slurred his words badly as his bloodshot eyes sought out the tall black man behind the bar.
“I think you’ve had enough my friend.” Huggy said firmly, eyeing the blond detective solemnly. Hutch had been there all evening, drinking heavily and he’d been drinking the hard stuff, not just beer as he usually did. Drinking seemed to be his favorite pastime since the plane crash almost six months ago that had shattered his life. With a practiced eye, Huggy noted the too thin frame and the dark circles underneath the eyes that had lost their glow. When Hutch lost Starsky, he lost the other half of himself and a part of his very soul.
“If I want another drink, I can have another drink!” Hutch growled belligerently, glaring at Huggy as if daring him to argue.
“Not here, you can’t.” Huggy said, ignoring the glare in the tall blond’s eyes. Huggy had years of experience dealing with belligerent drunks and he knew how to handle them without making a scene. “You’re cut off, blondie.” He threw a glance at a pretty brunette helping tend the bar “Diane, take over for me while I take our big friend here home.” The girl nodded absently as she continued to wait on the customers at her end of the crowded bar.
Huggy sauntered around the end of the bar and approached Hutch cautiously. He had taken his car keys away from him earlier and he hoped that he could get him to leave peacefully. Gently touching the big man’s arm, Huggy said gently “Come on, Hutch. I’ll drive you home.”
Hutch grumbled something under his breath but he slid off his stool without any further comment. Unsteadily, he followed the bar owner out of the bar to the street. Huggy found Hutch’s car and climbed beneath the wheel using the keys he had confiscated earlier to turn on the engine. Hutch slid into the passenger’s seat and leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes wearily. This was getting to be a nightly ritual between the two friends.
Huggy concentrated on his driving as he headed for Hutch’s Ocean Place Apartment. The thin black man was worried and concerned about his friend’s welfare. He knew that Hutch was coping with what had happened to Starsky the only way he knew how. The alcohol was the only way he could numb the pain that was slowly destroying him, one piece at a time. The only thing that could make him feel any better was what he had already lost.
When he reached Hutch’s apartment, Huggy parked the battered LTD in Hutch’s usual spot and climbed out from behind the wheel. Crossing to the opposite side of the car, he opened the door and helped Hutch to climb out of the car. Supporting the bigger man’s weight as best he could, Huggy helped him to stumble up the stairs to his second floor apartment. Reaching above the doorsill, Huggy grabbed the spare key that Hutch kept there and unlocked the door. With some effort, he managed to get Hutch back to his bedroom and into bed. Hutch passed out the minute his head hit the pillow, snoring softly. Huggy pulled off the blond’s boots and laid his keys on the nightstand. “Sleep well my friend.” Huggy whispered once he had Hutch safely settled into bed. Sighing softly, Huggy grabbed the phone and called for a taxi to take him back to The Pits. Quietly letting himself out of the apartment and locking the door behind him, he went down the steps to wait for the cab.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hutch groaned and squeezed his eyes shut to block out the glare of sunlight pouring through the window that overlooked the bed. His head was pounding relentlessly and his stomach churned uneasily. Cautiously, he shoved himself to the edge of the bed, regretting it almost immediately. He barely made it to the bathroom in time to fall to his knees in front of the commode. He retched violently until there was nothing left in his stomach to bring up and even then, he continued to dry heave for several more minutes.
Finally, he managed to push himself back to his feet, still weak and unsteady on his feet.
He reached into the tub and turned on the shower, adjusting the spray to a comfortable temperature. He was going to be late to work again but he didn’t care anymore. Since the plane crash, he hadn’t been working the streets, he’d been stuck behind a desk writing reports and reviewing other detective’s cases. He flatly refused to work the streets with another partner and Dobey wouldn’t let him work alone. Stripping off his wrinkled clothes, he threw them in the general vicinity of the hamper and then climbed into the tub. Bracing his hands against the tiled wall of the shower, Hutch leaned forward and let the water wash down over him, clearing his head and washing away some of the aftereffects of his drunken haze. Hutch stood there for a long time, his tears mingling with the water from the shower that streamed down his face.
The water abruptly turning from hot to cold shocked Hutch out of his daze. As quickly as possible, he finished washing off and climbed out of the tub. Grabbing a towel from the floor, he sniffed it, then shrugged and used it to dry off. After shaving and brushing his teeth, he went into the bedroom and dug though his closet until he finally found a clean shirt and pair of cords. He made a mental note to do some laundry or he’d be wearing dirty clothes for the rest of the week. It seemed to take all of his energy just to get out of bed most days, insignificant things like laundry and grocery shopping were things he could ignore.
It was almost an hour later when Hutch pulled up in front of the Metro Division of the Bay City Police Department. Other officers looked the other way, carefully avoiding any eye contact with the big blond as he walked into the building. Most of them had learned through painful experience not to attempt to exchange pleasantries with Hutch, not since the plane crash that killed his partner. If he didn’t ignore them outright, he was just as likely to slam them into a wall if they said the wrong thing. The big man was on edge and ready to blow. The only question was how soon.
As Hutch walked into the squad room on the third floor, he noticed that the other officers in the room as seemed strangely subdued and quiet. He wondered what was going on. He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. The door to Captain Dobey’s office flew open and the burly black man bellowed “Hutchinson! Get in here now!”
Hutch walked into the office and slouched into a chair as Dobey slammed the door shut. Walking back behind his desk, Dobey eyed the fair half of his best team of detectives and said somberly, “Hutch, we have a situation and I need to know that you’re capable of handling it.”
“What kind of situation?” Hutch asked cautiously, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his commanding officer suspiciously. He knew that it had to be something important for Dobey to even consider sending him back on the streets in his present condition.
Dobey pushed a small package wrapped in brown wrapping paper across the desk towards Hutch. Hutch picked it up, glancing briefly at the postmark. It was addressed to Captain Dobey at the Bay City Police Department, Bay City, California and it was postmarked from New York City but there was not return address. The package had already been carefully opened and still contained traces of fingerprint powder. Hutch pulled open the flaps and caught his breath sharply. He hesitated before carefully examining the contents.
His breathing quickened and his stomach twisted painfully as he carefully examined each item in the package. It contained Starsky’s badge and police ID. His wallet with all of his credit cards, his driver’s license and eighty dollars in cash. His wristwatch and the two rings that he always wore on his left pinky finger. His key ring which contained the keys to the Torino, his apartment, his locker at police headquarters and to Hutch’s apartment. The last item in the package was Starsky’s favorite blue tee shirt. Hutch struggled to control the violent shaking of his hands as he looked back at the Captain, silently demanding answers to his unspoken question.
“That was on my desk when I got to work this morning.” Dobey explained gruffly. “It’s already been checked. There weren’t any usable prints on it.”
“This m-means that S-Starsky has to still be alive….” Hutch said his voice barely above a whisper. Although his face remained calm, the stutter in his voice that only occurred when he was nervous or under a lot of stress belied his calm exterior expression.
“It obviously means that he wasn’t on that plane when it crashed.” Dobey said gravely “The question is…why is someone sending it to us now?”
“Someone is trying to tell us that he’s out there somewhere….that he’s still alive.” Hutch said with a catch in his voice.
“Someone is trying to tell us that he wasn’t on that plane.” Dobey agreed “That doesn’t mean he’s still alive…..” Dobey hated to crush the big blond’s hopes but he needed to keep him grounded in reality. “Starsky would never voluntarily let anyone take those things from him without a fight.”
“I need to go to New York.” Hutch said firmly “I need to find out what really happened to Starsky.”
UNANSWERED QUESTIONS
Receiving the package with Starsky’s personal possessions raised more questions than it answered about the dark haired detective’s fate. The only thing that was painfully obvious was that Starsky could not have been on that plane when it crashed despite the passenger’s list that stated that he was. Hutch clung to the belief that Starsky was still alive, out there somewhere, just waiting for Hutch to find him and rescue him. Dobey tended to be a bit more realistic. He knew that Starsky could still be dead, they just hadn’t found his body yet. The most logical place to start looking for some answers as to what really happened to Starsky six months ago was in New York City.
Dobey immediately got on the phone to the New York City Police Department and explained the situation to them. They agreed to extend professional courtesy to Hutch so he could go to New York and investigate Starsky’s disappearance. While Dobey made the travel arrangements, Hutch placed a phone call to Rachel Starsky to tell her he was coming to the city.
Rachel answered the phone after three rings. In a smooth warm voice, she said,
“Starsky residence.”
“Rachel, this is Hutch.”
“Hutch!” she said in a delighted voice “It’s so good to hear from you. How are you?”
“I’m fine.” Hutch said, biting his lower lip as he pondered the best way to break the news to her about the new development concerning Starsky. “Uh….Rachel, the reason I called is because I’m going to be coming to New York…there’s been a new development in David’s case and I need to tie up some loose ends.” He decided not to elaborate. It would be better to tell her all the details in person instead of over the phone.
“I see…” she said, the tone of her voice making it apparent that she knew there was something Hutch wasn’t telling her. “How soon will you be here?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Well, you’re going to stay here while you’re in town. I insist.”
“Rachel, that’s not necessary. I can check into a motel.” Hutch said uneasily, not sure if he was up to staying in Starsky’s childhood home while he was in New York.
“Nonsense. I insist and I don’t want to hear any more arguments about it.” She said firmly.
Hutch chuckled softly. It wasn’t hard to see where Starsky had gotten his stubbornness from. “Alright.” He agreed “If you insist.” His eyes narrowed and he asked a bit coldly “Is Nick going to be there?”
“No. He has a new girlfriend he’s been staying with.” Rachel told him “So you’ll have David’s old room all to yourself.”
“Thanks again, Rachel.” Hutch said gratefully “I’ll give you a call as soon as I know my flight number and arrival time.”
“You do that, dear. I’m looking forward to seeing you.” Rachel said in a warm, sincere voice.
Hutch sighed as he hung up the phone. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, trying to ease the ache in his head. For the past six months, he had been trying to drown himself in the alcohol, to ease the constant pain of losing his best friend and his partner. Now, he had a reason to be a cop again. He smiled faintly as he glanced at the two rings he had slipped on his own pinky. Starsky’s rings, entrusted to his safe keeping until he could return them to their rightful owner.
The news about the package and its contents was being kept a closely guarded secret between Hutch, Captain Dobey and the police commissioner. The fewer people who knew about this new development, the better. Hutch would call Dobey once a day to check in and to report anything he discovered about Starsky’s disappearance while he was in New York. While Hutch would have the vast resources of the New York P.D. at his disposal, he intended to use whatever means necessary to find the answers he sought. And if Starsky was really dead, then he intended to find his body so he could have a proper burial. Without a body, Hutch refused to give up his renewed hope that Starsky could still be alive.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Huggy Bear looked at the tall detective in amazement. “Do you think Starsky could still be alive?” he asked in a stunned voice after hearing Hutch’s explanation about the reason for his upcoming trip to New York City.
“I don’t know, Hug.” Hutch admitted in a frustrated tone “I just don’t know. I know that someone couldn’t have gotten his badge and those rings off of him without one hell of a fight.”
“Unless he was in no condition to fight when they took ‘em.” Huggy pointed out “Maybe knocked out or drugged.”
“Somebody went to a hell of a lot of trouble to make sure it looked like he was on that plane when it crashed.” Hutch stated grimly “And in order to do that, they had to send a ringer on that flight pretending to be Starsky.”
“But why?” Huggy asked in a puzzled voice looking at Hutch for the answer to his question.
“When I find out the why, then I’ll find out what really happened to Starsky.” Hutch told him with a weary sigh. He finished off his beer in one long swallow and motioned for a refill. He needed to keep a clear head for what lay ahead. His flight for New York left in two hours. Maybe after all this time, he would finally find the answers he needed so desperately.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The Starsky residence was located on a side street in eastern Brooklyn. Over the years the neighborhood had slowly deteriorated as gangs and drugs took over the area. Rachel Starsky had lived in her house for over forty years and had made it clear that she had no intentions of moving. This was her home and it would remain her home until the day she died. The small two-story frame house was in good repair compared to some of the neighboring houses which sported boarded up windows and overgrown lawns.
Hutch paid the taxi and gathered his bags, walking slowly up the sidewalk to the front door. The door opened before he could ring the bell and Rachel Starsky smiled at him warmly. As Hutch stepped over the threshold, she put her arms around him in a warm, welcoming hug. Hutch smiled. She had always made him feel welcome in her home and had treated him just like one of her own sons. She knew how close he was to Starsky and she had accepted their relationship without question. She had always known that he was more of a brother to Starsky than Nick ever had been or ever would be.
“Why don’t you put your bags in David’s room?” she suggested “Then we can catch up over a cup of tea.”
Hutch nodded and carried his bags up the steps to the second floor. He put his bags in the first room on the left at the head of the stairs. It had been Starsky’s childhood room and Rachel had kept it in the same condition it had been in when he was a youngster. It was a warm comfortable room that reflected the child that Starsky had been when he had lived in this house. Hutch couldn’t help but compare this room to his old bedroom in his family home. His parents had totally cleaned out his room when he left home, leaving nothing behind to even hint of his occupancy in their house.
Hutch felt both uncomfortable and yet strangely at peace at the thought of staying in this room while he was in New York. In this room he could feel close to Starsky again, at least for a little while. Sitting his bags beside the double bed in the middle of the room, he went back downstairs to join Rachel in the kitchen.
He sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Rachel poured two cups of tea. She sat one cup in front of Hutch and kept the other one for herself as she took the seat across the table from him. “So,” she said with a faint smile tugging at her lips “Are you ready to tell me why you’re really here?”
Hutch chuckled. Rachel was just as perceptive and as direct as her oldest son. It was plain to see where much of Starsky’s personality came from. Hutch owed her the truth. Taking a deep breath, he said “A few days ago a package was delivered to my Captain at police headquarters back home. It was postmarked from here but there was no return address. It contained Starsky’s badge, his ID, his wallet, his keys, his watch and his rings. It also contained his blue tee shirt. The one you said he was wearing when he left that day for the airport.”
Rachel looked at Hutch with sapphire eyes that looked so much like Starsky’s that it was unnerving. A variety of emotions flickered through those eyes simultaneously. Alarm, surprise, fear, and hope. In a carefully controlled voice, she said “That means that David wasn’t on that plane. He could still be alive.”
“That’s right.” Hutch told her “That’s what I’m here to find out.”
“But why now? Why would someone wait this long to send David’s things to you?”
“I don’t know but that’s one of the things I intend to find out.” Hutch assured her solemnly.
“Someone got on that plane pretending to be David. Why would they do that?”
“Because someone obviously wanted us to believe that he died on that plane to keep us from finding out what really happened to him.”
“Are you going to be able to find out what really happened after all this time?” Rachel asked. She had been married to a cop. She knew how difficult it was to solve a case that had gone cold.
“Somebody out there knows what happened.” Hutch said firmly “All I have to do is find out who.”
“Well, first things first. You need a good home cooked meal and a good night’s sleep.” Rachel said in a voice that warned Hutch not to argue. “You can start looking for answers tomorrow.” She smiled and reached out to touch Hutch’s hand “I know that you’ll find my son and bring him home to me….one way or the other.”
“I will.” Hutch said with a sad little smile, “I promise you that…no matter how long it takes….I’ll find him and I’ll bring him home.”
FAMILY SECRETS
A faint smile tugged at Hutch’s lips as he looked around the room where Starsky had spent his childhood years up until he was thirteen and his mother sent him to California to live with his aunt and uncle. The room still reflected the boy that Starsky had been. On the nightstand beside the bed was a framed picture of Starsky standing beside his father, who was dressed in his uniform, both of them smiling that same crooked smile. Starsky had grown into almost a mirror image of Micheal Starsky. They looked so much alike that it was eerie.
Hutch knew how much Starsky had loved and idolized his father. He also knew the story of how his father had been gunned down in the street in front of his home, dying in his twelve-year-old son’s arms, a tragedy that had scarred Starsky emotionally and shaped the course of his life afterwards. It was one of the reasons that Starsky had followed his father’s example and became a cop himself.
A baseball bat and a basketball lay on the floor in one corner of the room, partially covered by a well-worn and faded denim jacket. Some carefully constructed model cars covered the top of the dresser, most of them painted candy apple red. One wall was decorated with pages torn out of magazines showing pictures of flashy cars and pretty girls. Some long forgotten baseball cards lay scattered on the floor beside the dresser.
Hutch could close his eyes and almost picture Starsky in
this room, feel his unseen presence, so close and yet so far away. Burying his
face in the pillow, he could almost imagine Starsky’s scent still clinging to
the pillowcase beneath his head. I know
you’re out there somewhere, partner Hutch thought to himself as he drifted
off to sleep And I’m going to find you or
I’m gonna die trying.
Early the next morning, Hutch drove his rental car to the local precinct and introduced himself, explaining to the officer in charge why he was in the city. Since this was the same precinct where Micheal Starsky had been a cop for almost fifteen years, the officer that Hutch spoke too knew the Starsky family and promised Hutch any assistance he needed to help investigate Starsky’s disappearance.
Hutch knew how difficult it would be since the case was over six months old and valuable time had been lost since the plane crash. Clues had been lost that could be invaluable and possible witnesses had long since disappeared. But the package received at headquarters back home proved that there was someone out there somewhere who knew the truth about what had happened to Starsky that day. Somehow, Hutch had to find that person and find out what they knew and how they came to be in possession of Starsky’s personal effects.
When Hutch returned to the Starsky’s home, he was not happy to find Nicky sitting at the kitchen table. He was in no mood to trade barbs with the obnoxious and brash young man. He had never liked Nick Starsky. He only tolerated him because he was Starsky’s kid brother. Nick was too much like all the other punks that Starsky and Hutch dealt with every day on the streets back home. He may not have graduated to the big time but he had come awfully close more than once. Hutch knew he had already spent time in jail for petty theft and for possession of marijuana. He was certain that Nick was probably guilty of other crimes that he had just never been caught at.
“So, Hutch…” Nicky said with an irritating smile as Hutch came into the kitchen and sat down at the table, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee that Rachel offered him. “Ma says you’re here investigating what happened to Davey.”
“Something like that.” Hutch said evasively
“You really think he’s still alive?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.” Hutch said curtly, trying to hold his temper at the sarcastic tone of Nick’s voice.
“And you really think you’re gonna find out anything after all this time?” Nick said with thin smile, “I think you’re just wasting your time.”
“I guess it’s a good thing for Starsky that I don’t feel the same way you do about finding out what really happened to him.” Hutch said tensely. Rachel glanced nervously between the tall blond and her younger son. She could feel the tension in the air and hoped that both men could control their tempers and their tongues.
“You ain’t gonna find out what you need to know through your cop friends. You need somebody with a real connection to the streets.” Nick told him
“Somebody like you?” Hutch asked not even trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice as he voiced the question.
“No, not me. Actually, I was thinking about an old friend of the family that could find out a hell of lot more than you ever will.”
“Nicholas!” Rachel said sharply, throwing a warning glance at her son. There was a definite warning tone to her voice and Hutch had a suspicion that they had already had this conversation before Hutch came in. Whatever Nick had in mind, Rachel obviously objected.
“Oh come on, Ma.” Nicky said with a smug smile “You afraid Hutch is gonna find out some of the family secrets if you ask Joe for help?”
“I think you’d better go now, Nicholas.” Rachel said, deliberately cutting him off before he could continue.
Nicky threw his mother a dark look and then roughly shoved back his chair, knocking it over. “Whatever.” He said in a disgusted voice. Throwing Hutch an equally dirty look, he turned and stormed out the back door, slamming it behind him.
Hutch jumped to his feet and sat up the overturned chair. He turned as Rachel slumped down at the table, an anxious worried look on her features. “Are you okay?” he asked her in a concerned voice, as he took his seat across the table from her.
“Don’t worry about me.” She reassured him with a thin smile “I’m fine. Nicky and I just don’t see eye to eye about asking certain people for help.”
“Who’s Joe? Some local gangster friend of Nicky’s that owes him a favor?” Hutch asked quietly.
Rachel was silent for so long that Hutch wasn’t sure she was going to answer his question. Then she sighed softly and said “No….he’s an old friend of the family.” She paused and then added “Joe Durniak.”
Hutch caught his breath at the name she mentioned. Joe Durnick was a mob boss. One of the biggest and well-known mob bosses in the country. Now he understood Nicky’s statement about ‘family secrets’. He kept silent, watching the flow of emotions that washed over Rachel’s face. Finally, he reached out and touched her hand reassuringly. “It’s okay.” He said in a gentle, soothing voice “You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“Yes, I do.” Rachel said decisively. “It’s not the way Nicky makes it sound. Joe and my husband, Micheal, grew up together. They were best friends….much the same way you and David are. As they got older, they took different paths in life but they still remained friends. Joe always knew that Micheal wouldn’t do him any special favors or look the other way when it came so some of Joe’s ‘business dealings’ and Joe respected him for that.
I’m sure you know that Michael’s murder was never solved. There was always strong evidence that it was mob related. Joe always felt guilty about that. He always wondered if the fact that they had childhood friends and remained friendly adversaries as adults had somehow marked Michael for retaliation from a rival mob. I know that Joe had a contract put out on two men after Micheal was killed that Joe believed were responsible for his death.” She sighed and stood up to pour each of them another cup of coffee.
Hutch waited patiently for her to continue. “After Micheal died, Joe felt that it was his duty to watch out for Michael’s family, a final sign of respect for their friendship. He put out the word on the streets that we were under his ‘protection’. “ Rachel’s eyes clouded with sadness as she went on with her story “After Micheal died, David had such a hard time accepting it. He was so close to his father. He was so full of anger and pain….he started hanging out with a bad crowd, getting into trouble. I sent him away to save him….to keep him alive.” She looked at Hutch somberly “Did David ever tell you why I sent him to California to live with Rosie and Al?”
“Just that he was getting into a lot of trouble here and hanging out with a gang of kids he shouldn’t have been hanging out with.” Hutch told her, not sure he wanted to hear the rest of the story but sensing that Rachel needed to tell him.
“He was attacked by a rival gang a few blocks from here. They almost killed him. They beat him with a baseball bat, broke several ribs and shattered his left ankle. Then they threw him off a three-story building. Luckily, he fell into an open dumpster that was filled with some old carpet remnants and that broke his fall, kept him from being killed.” Hutch caught his breath at the images that flashed through his mind. Now he knew why Starsky was afraid of heights and why he had a weak left ankle that got sprained so easily. He forced himself to listen to the rest of Rachel’s story “He was in a coma for almost a week. I did what I had to do to save him, to keep him alive. Joe gave me the money to send him away….to send him to California. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make in my life but I thank god every day that I did it. I saved my son the only way I knew how.” A thin smile tugged at her mouth “If I hadn’t sent him away….he wouldn’t be the man he is today….he would have turned out just like Nicky.”
“You did what you had to do because you loved him.” Hutch said with a gentle smile, as he reached out and squeezed her hand, knowing how hard it had been for her to tell him about that part of Starsky’s past.
“I’m just sorry that I couldn’t protect Nicky the same way that I did David….but I just couldn’t bear to send him away too. It was hard enough to do that with David.”
“I’m sure it was.”
“Joe tried to help out as much as he could over the years but I refused to let him do as much as he would have liked to. It didn’t feel right. He stood for everything that Micheal was against….everything that Micheal died for.” She took a deep breath to soothe her ragged nerves and looked at Hutch steadily “But Nicky is right about one thing….Joey might be able to help you find out what happened to David easier than the police can….easier than you can on your own.”
“I’d make a deal with devil if it meant finding Starsky.” Hutch told her “Can you contact him? See if he’ll help me?”
“Yes…..I’ll do it for David….and for you.” She said softly as she pushed back her chair and walked into the living room to use the phone.
DEAL WITH THE DEVIL
Joe Durniak. Mob Boss. Gangster. Hiding under the cover of a respected and respectable businessman. And a friend of the Starsky Family. Somehow, he didn’t seem that surprised to receive Rachel’s call and he quickly agreed to meet with Hutch that same afternoon at his downtown office.
When Hutch arrived for the scheduled meeting, he was immediately ushered into Durniak’s private office by his very pretty and very efficient secretary. The office was lush and elegant, filled with expensive furniture and art pieces hanging on the wall. Durniak sat behind his desk, his eyes warily sizing up the blond detective as he entered the inner sanctum. Durniak was a distinguished looking man in his late sixties with shrewd watchful eyes. He motioned to the overstuffed black leather chair facing his desk with a thin somewhat condoning smile. As Hutch sank into the chair, Durniak spoke, his voice rough and gravelly sounding due to an injury to his throat years ago, “So you are Ken Hutchinson, Davy’s partner from California.”
“Yes. I am.” Hutch said, eyeing the other man cautiously, the way you would eye a strange dog to make sure it wasn’t going to bite. By reputation alone, Joe Durniak was a very dangerous man. He was also a man who knew how to get things done.
“How long have you and Davy been partners?” Durniak asked, leaning back comfortably in his chair and gazing at Hutch with a thin smile.
“Seven years but we’ve been friends ever since the Academy.”
“You must be alright if Davy’s kept you around that long.”
“I know that Rachel told you why I’m here. Can you help me find out what happened to Starsky or not?” Hutch asked bluntly, not in the mood to continue this casual conversation. He needed to know if he could count on the mob boss for help or not.
“You know that David was not on the plane that crashed.” Durniak said. It was a simple statement of fact, not a question.
“Who was?”
“Some poor soul who thought he was getting a few dollars to pretend to be someone else and a free trip to California. Nothing more, nothing less. Someone who wouldn’t be missed by anyone when he disappeared.”
“Why have him pretend to be Starsky?”
“I’m sure you’ve already figured that out. The people who took Davy wanted everyone else to believe that he was on that plane when it crashed so nobody would coming looking for him.” Durniak replied offhandedly as if the answer to that question should have been obvious.
“Where is my partner?” Hutch demanded. He hated the pleading tone in his own voice but when it came to Starsky, he would get down on his knees and beg if that was what it took to find out what really happened to him.
“I have some of my associates looking into that as we speak.” Durniak said
“What I can tell you is that the money to finance this operation came from the west coast. You and David have made some very powerful enemies over the years because you are so good at what you do.”
“Who’s the bank?”
“That doesn’t matter. I assure you that he will be dealt with in the end.” Durniak looked at Hutch with a thin smile, reading the questions in his steady gaze. “I knew nothing of this when Davy was taken or I would have stopped it before it happened.”
“Then how do you know so much about it now?” Hutch asked, not really caring how brash or insensitive the question seemed to be.
“Because the person who had Davy’s personal possessions came to me for help. They wanted to know what they should do but they didn’t want to get involved. So I suggested sending a package to California. A package I knew would bring you here looking for answers.” Durniak explained patiently.
“Who sent the package?” Hutch asked in an icy voice, fighting hard to control the anger that boiled inside of him. He wanted to tear something apart with his bare hands, anything to vent the anger that he had no outlet for.
“That I can’t tell you. I gave my word that I would keep them out of this.” Durniak told him firmly “Let’s just say that they are in my debt now and they will do as I say.” Hutch didn’t like the answer but he knew the rules and he would play by them for now if he had to. The only thing that mattered to him was finding Starsky even if it meant doing it Durniak’s way.
“Did they have anything to do with whatever happened to my partner?”
“Indirectly….they provided the men who took him with the information they needed to find him in the right place at the right time.”
“It was Nicky, wasn’t it?” Hutch said in a brittle tone, the rage in his voice barely contained. “He sold out his own brother, didn’t he?”
“Some people will do anything for the right price.” Durniak said without answering Hutch’s question directly but the blond detective could read the answer in his steely eyes. “To those people, honor means nothing…..” His own voice turned hard and cold. “But that is not your concern. That is another issue I will take care of when the time is right.”
“Is Starsky still alive?” Hutch asked, struggling to keep his voice calm and steady.
“As far as I can determine….. I should have more detailed information for you soon.”
“How soon?”
“Within the next twenty-four hours. I trust that I can reach you at Rachel’s number.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good. Then go back there, Detective Hutchinson and wait for my call.”
Knowing that he was being dismissed. Hutch rose to his feet and left the office. A mixture of emotions raged inside of him: Rage, bitterness, fear and hope. His police instincts told him that Durniak was telling the truth and that he would help him find his missing partner. Those instincts also told Hutch that he had a score to settle with Nick Starsky. But first things first. First he had to find his best friend. The other half of his soul.
Hutch slowly drove his rental car back to the Starsky home. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air in the kitchen as he stepped into the house. Rachel smiled at him warmly and sat a cup on the table, gesturing for him to sit.
“Can Joe help?” she asked as he sat down, looking at him hopefully.
“Yes….he said he’ll call me in the next twenty-four hours with more information.” Hutch sighed softly and rubbed the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He was suddenly exhausted, physically and emotionally. He had been running on nothing but pure adrenaline for almost a week and his resources were starting to wear thin.
“Is David still alive?”
“As far as Durniak knows he is.”
“Oh, thank god!” Rachel exclaimed in a relieved voice as she sank into a chair facing Hutch. Automatically, her fingers closed around the Star of David that she wore around her neck and raised it to her lips, kissing it gently. Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked back at Hutch and tried to smile. “God has answered my prayers….”
“Rachel, we haven’t got him back yet.” Hutch pointed out solemnly. “We don’t know who’s had him all this time or what they may have done to him.”
“Joe will find out. Nicky was right about one thing….Joe has the connections to find out that information easier than the police do.”
Hutch’s eyes turned dark and cold at the mention of Nicky’s name but he kept his feelings carefully concealed and held his tongue. There was need to upset Rachel Starsky any more than she already was by telling her that Nicky may have been involved in his own brother’s disappearance. A thin smile tugged at his lips. He had a feeling that Durniak would make Nick very sorry for whatever part he may have played in this whole affair. From his brief meeting with the man, Hutch could sense his genuine concern for the Starsky family. His friendship with Micheal Starsky dictated his debt of honor to protect his family from harm and that commitment would include his eldest son.
The rest of the day passed slowly. Hutch called Caption Dobey and reported what he’d discovered so far. He promised to get back in touch as soon as he knew more. He was only mildly surprised when he received a phone call from Joe Durniak shortly after supper that evening.
“Detective Hutchinson, I have most of the answers you were seeking.” Durniak said without any preliminaries. “As I said, you and David have made some very powerful enemies over the years. The west coast connection contacted several of your more, shall we say, influential enemies and arranged for Davy to be sold to the highest bidder.”
“Oh my god….” Hutch muttered, his heart starting to pound frantically in his chest as he thought about what that could mean for Starsky.
“The good news is that an associate of mine has agreed to sell me certain ‘merchandise’ that he no longer has any use for. He was very cooperative when I expressed an interest in obtaining the merchandise from him.” Durniak said. Hutch knew immediately that the ‘merchandise’ that Durniak cryptically referred to was Starsky. He listened as Durniak continued, “I have been assured that the ‘merchandise’ is still viable but is in very poor condition. You will want to have it assessed immediately upon delivery.”
“When will that be?” Hutch asked trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice.
“Sometime tomorrow afternoon. As soon as the details for delivery have been confirmed, I will contact you with the instructions for pickup.”
“All I care about is the safe return of the ‘merchandise,’” Hutch told him firmly
“Rest assured that once the product is safely delivered, I will pay for any necessary repairs and I will take the appropriate steps to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.” Hutch didn’t reply. He sensed that whoever the men were behind this whole affair they had just signed their own death warrants, including the west coast connection. Everyone of course, except for Nicky but he would still pay for his part in the whole affair. Hutch would make sure of that if Durniak didn’t.
“Thank you.” Hutch said with sincere gratitude.
“I did not do this for you, Detective Hutchinson. I did it for Davy and his mother. They’ve suffered enough….and now my debt is repaid to an old friend.” Without any further comment, Durniak hung up the phone ending the conversation.
THE SHADOW OF DEATH
Hutch cautiously pulled his rental car up in front of the non-descript abandoned house on the lower east side. The entire neighborhood was made up of similarly abandoned homes that were falling into neglect and disrepair. An ambulance with two paramedics inside pulled up behind him. Hutch had called them before leaving to come to this place where Durniak had told him he would find his missing partner. Hutch spoke to the paramedics briefly, telling them to stay in the ambulance until he made sure Starsky was actually inside the house. Hutch had a walkie-talkie that he would use to call them into the house as soon as he assessed the situation.
Hutch slowly walked up to the rickety front porch and stepped up to the front door. When he tried the door, he found it unlocked. Drawing his gun from beneath his jacket, he held it at the ready as he carefully pushed open the door and stepped into the house. There was a musty, unused smell in the air easily identified with an abandoned dwelling. The floor plan of the house included an upstairs and a basement. Hutch decided to start searching on the second floor and work his way down.
He climbed the stairway to the upper level, his eyes scanning his surroundings intently, alert for any signs of trouble or an unexpected ambush. Upstairs he found two bedrooms and a bath, all unused and vacant. From the dust on the floor, it was obviously that nobody had been in that part of the house for quite some time. Slowly, Hutch made his way back down the stairs.
The lower level of the house contained a living room and a kitchen. Both showed evidence of recent use by someone but there was still no sign of his missing partner. The only place left to check was the basement. As soon as Hutch opened the door that led down into the darkness of the cellar, an overwhelming smell drifted up and assaulted his senses. It was actually a sickening combination of odors: mold, stale sweat, blood, urine, vomit, feces, and decay. Hutch hesitated momentarily, his heart pounding with fear at what he would find at the bottom of those steps. His hand fumbled for a light switch, finally finding one on the left hand side of the door. A dim light came on at the bottom of the steps, leaving the far corners of the room draped in deep shadows.
Breathing through his mouth, Hutch slowly walked down the steps. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes swept across the room, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom and darkness. Off to the left of the staircase, he could make out a form that looked suspiciously like a body lying on the floor, curled up tightly in a fetal position. As he moved closer to the silent huddled form, he felt his heart pounding harder and his mouth went dry.
The crumbled body lying on the ground bore little resemblance to Starsky, the only thing familiar about the battered body was the chocolate colored curls that hung dirty and tangled around the battered, sunken face. “Starsky!” Hutch cried out, putting his gun back into his shoulder harness so he could reach out to touch the body lying before him. Severe weight loss accented every bone under the tightly drawn, heavily bruised skin. Skin that was frighteningly cold to the touch. The battered body bore obvious signs of severe physical abuse and torture over a prolonged period of time. Besides the severe weight loss, the body bore open sores, cuts, burns, welts and lacerations in varying degrees of healing. The eyes were half-open, lifeless and unresponsive.
As Hutch knelt down beside the broken body, a faint fluttering in the frail chest and the faint whisper of breath against Hutch’s cheek were the only visible signs that Starsky was still alive. Death was already tightening its grip on the damaged body, demanding the final victory. Frantically, Hutch dug the walkie-talkie out of his jacket and pressed the transmit button “I FOUND HIM! GET DOWN HERE NOW! WE’RE IN THE BASEMENT!” He yelled into the transmitter to the paramedics waiting outside.
Without waiting for a reply, he dropped the walkie-talkie to the ground at his feet and gently eased Starsky’s head and shoulders into his lap. “Hang on, Buddy….it’s me…Hutch.” He said in a soft, soothing voice “You’re gonna be okay…you’re safe now. Just hang on a little bit longer…just a little longer.” He felt the tears burning his own eyes as he tried to choke back the lump in his throat. There was response from the body lying before him.
Hutch heard the rapid footsteps coming down the steps behind him and then the paramedics were there. Hutch barely noticed as they quickly accessed Starsky’s condition and did what they could to prepare him for transport to the nearest hospital. They started two IVs immediately before gently lifting him onto the portable stretcher they had brought with them. They didn’t need to tell Hutch that Starsky was already in the process of dying and that time was of the essence. He stumbled up the steps beside them, clutching Starsky’s left hand tightly in his own, praying for another miracle like the one that had saved his life after Gunther’s assassination attempt.
Ignoring his rental car, Hutch climbed into the back of the ambulance with one of the paramedics for the trip to the hospital. Now that they were out of the basement and in the bright light inside the ambulance, Hutch noticed the gray pallor to Starsky’s skin and the blue coloring around his lips and the beds of his fingernails. He could also hear the rattle deep inside of Starsky’s chest with each slow gasp of breath that he took. The death rattle that meant his lungs were filling with fluid, slowly squeezing the air out of his body. Silently, Hutch repeated the prayers he had learned in childhood to a god that he was no longer sure he believed in. Begging for Starsky’s life to be spared one more time.
At the emergency entrance to the hospital, the paramedics rushed Starsky inside with Hutch following close behind. As they went through the swinging doors into the inner sanctum of the emergency room, a nurse stepped in front of Hutch, blocking his way. “I’m sorry, sir.” She said “You can’t go back there. You’ll have to wait out here.”
“I’m a cop! He’s my partner!” Hutch snapped, trying to brush past her to follow his partner.
“I don’t care who you are.” The nurse said firmly, gently blocking his way. “You can’t go in there. Go guard the waiting room.”
Hutch sighed deeply and turned aside, knowing it was no use arguing. He couldn’t afford to get kicked out of the hospital for making a scene. This wasn’t Bay City. He didn’t have any authority here. Dejectedly, he walked over to the waiting area and slumped down on one of the hard plastic seats. He knew that he should call Rachel and tell her that he had found Starsky but he wanted to wait until he knew exactly what kind of condition Starsky was in first. Hutch knew that Starsky may not make it, he was already knocking on heaven’s door. Whoever had done this to him had wanted to make him suffer as much as humanly possible until death became a blessing that he would embrace with open arms. And they had taken six months of hell to do that.
Hutch leaned his head back against the wall and stared sightlessly at the ceiling. He was beyond exhaustion, physically, emotionally and mentally. He was barely holding on to his own sanity. The events of the past six months had taken their toil on him, leaving him an empty shell of a man who was almost beyond hope. The only thing that was keeping him from going over the edge was knowing that Starsky was still alive, at least for the moment.
Finally, Hutch shoved himself to his feet and walked over to a bank of telephones. Digging some change out of his pocket, he dialed the operator and put in a call to Captain Dobey in Bay City. When Dobey’s gruff voice came on the line, Hutch said,
“I found him.”
“Starsky? Is he still alive?” Dobey asked in a concerned voice
“Barely.” Hutch said, his voice almost breaking under the strain “I don’t know if he’s gonna make it this time, Captain….”
“You just hang in there, Hutchinson. We’re all praying….for both of you.” Dobey said solemnly. “Take as much time as you need…just keep me posted on his condition.”
“I will. Thanks, Cap.” Hutch said, hanging up without any further conversation with his superior. He hesitated again and then dug some more change out of his pocket. He decided to call Rachel after all. Starsky was still her son. She had the right to be here too. Taking a deep breath, he dropped the coins in the slot and dialed her phone number.
“Hello?” she answered breathlessly on the first ring
“I found him.” Hutch told her “We’re at Cedars.”
“How bad is it?” Rachel asked, struggling to keep her own emotions under control.
“It’s bad, Rachel….it’s really bad. I don’t know if I found him in time or not.”
Hutch told her, his own voice shaking with emotion.
“I’m on my way.” Rachel said, quickly hanging up before Hutch could object.
Hutch hung up the receiver and slowly made his way back over to the uncomfortable seats along the wall. The nurse behind the reception desk glanced at the tall blond warily. She could see the stress and strain on his face and the dejected slump of his shoulders. She’d seen the same reaction far too many times during her career as family members and friends waited anxiously for news about a loved one who was somewhere behind those swinging doors fighting for their lives. But there was something different about this man. She could feel his pain surrounding him like a glove and see it reflected deep in the depths of his ice blue eyes. It was so palpable that she felt a shiver go down her spine. For his sake, she hoped that whoever he was waiting for news about was going to make it. Sighing softly, she turned back to her own duties.
Hutch was lost so deeply in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice when Rachel came rushing into the emergency room. Sinking into the chair beside him, she gently reached out and touched his shoulder. Hutch jerked, turning startled eyes to her face. He relaxed when he realized she was there. Without even thinking about it, Rachel wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into her comforting embrace. Hutch buried his face against her shoulder, finally giving in to the raging emotions inside of him. Rachel stroked his hair and whispered soothing nonsense words into his ear as the tall blond began to cry silently against her shoulder as the stress of the past few days combined with the pain of the past six months, finally overwhelmed him and he allowed himself to break down in her tender embrace.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Almost eight hours passed before a doctor finally came into the waiting room and said loudly “Is there anyone here for David Starsky?”
“Right here.” Hutch said immediately, bounding to his feet and crossing the room to meet the doctor half way. “I’m his partner, Ken Hutchinson and this is his mother, Rachel Starsky.”
“I’m Doctor Parton. Why don’t we step into my office so we can talk privately?” the doctor said solemnly, gesturing towards a hallway to his left.
“Is he still alive?” Hutch demanded, needing to know the answer before he went with the doctor to his office.
“Let’s go to my office and talk there.” The doctor said firmly, leading the way to a office at the end of the hallway. Rachel and Hutch followed him silently, worried about whatever news he was about to tell them, knowing in their hearts that it wouldn’t be good.
Once they were in the office and the door was closed securely behind them, Hutch turned to the doctor again and demanded “Is he still alive or not?”
“He’s alive but we had to put him on total life support.” The doctor said ominously, as he took a seat behind his desk. He gestured for Hutch and Rachel to sit down. Once they were seated, the doctor sighed softly and said “I don’t know what the hell happened to him but it obvious that’s he’s been severely abused and tortured over a long period of time. He was in the process of dying when he was brought in here….it’s a miracle that he’s even still alive.”
“It’s a long story, doc.” Hutch said grimly without going into any further details about what had happened to Starsky. “He’s a cop and this is someone’s way of getting even with him.”
“Well, they did a pretty good job of that.” The doctor said dryly “He was so weak we almost lost him three times during surgery. His organs were already starting to shut down. If you’d brought him in here even a few minutes later, he wouldn’t have made it….he was that close to death when he came in here.” The doctor paused and looked at Hutch and Rachel questioningly “I saw the scars on his chest and abdomen. He’s been this close to death before, hasn’t he?”
“Yes. Eighteen months ago.” Hutch replied, “He took three slugs to his chest and belly. He suffered massive damage.”
“I saw evidence of some of the previous damage to his internal organs during surgery. I have to be honest with you….I can’t make any promises. We could still lose him. He’s very weak and he’s not breathing on his own. He’s severely underweight, severely dehydrated and some of his injuries are seriously infected. That infection has gone into his blood stream and that alone is a life threatening condition. Combined with his overall physical condition, the various injuries he’s suffered, the damage his body had been subjected too, his chances of survival are very poor.”
“But as long as he’s alive….there’s still a chance….isn’t there?” Rachel asked with a sob in her voice.
“His condition is extremely critical and his body is so weak that he needs the machines right now just to keep him alive. I’ve had him put into a medically induced coma to keep him still and give his body time to rest and to start healing. We are pushing fluids as quickly as possible and trying to bring the infection under control. We treated the various injuries as best we could and at the moment, all we can do is wait. The next seventy-two hours are critical. If he makes that long, he might have a fighting chance. There is evidence of some old fractures that were never treated that will have to be addressed at some point but that’s going to have to wait until he’s a lot stronger than he is right now.”
“Can we see him?” Hutch asked anxiously, trying to absorb everything the doctor had just told them.
“He’s still in recovery. As soon as he’s settled into the I.C.U., I’ll have a nurse come and get you. You’ll be able to see him for a few minutes, then I suggest you both go home and get some rest.”
Hutch nodded and helped Rachel to her feet. They left the office and went back to the waiting area to continue their lonely vigil. Starsky’s fate once more lay in God’s hands.
WAITING
Hutch and Rachel sat beside the bed in the I.C.U. watching over the man they both loved. Rachel fought back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes as she looked at the ravished body of her oldest son. His gaunt face and thin frame was mottled with bruises in various degrees of healing. The open sores and lacerations were covered with soft bandages and gauze pads. Two IV’s ran into his left arm. One was a saline solution to help re-hydrate him as quickly as the possible and the contained the strong antibiotics being used to fight the infection that had taken over his blood steam. A second solution on the opposite side of the bed fed directly into a vein just below his collarbone and supplied his body with a highly concentrated nutritional supplement to keep his body nourished as it fought to heal.
Monitors and other machines surrounded his bed, keeping track of his vital signs and monitoring his heartbeat. A tube down his throat forced air into his lungs, breathing for him until his body was strong enough to do it on its own. An empty bag was hooked on the bottom rail of the bed meant to collect the urine that his failing systems had stopped producing.
Hutch stared at his partner, remembering another time and another place, when he had kept this same lonely vigil waiting for his best friend to either live or die after being shot by Gunter’s hired hit men. What made it worse this time was the fact that he had already lived the past six months of his life believing that Starsky was already dead while his friend had spent those six months being tortured and abused in unthinkable ways, leaving behind an empty shell of the man he used to be.
“No matter how old he gets….David will always be my little boy.” Rachel said her voice heavy with sadness. She looked at Hutch forlornly looking for answers to questions that had no answers. “How could anyone do something like this to another human being?”
“I don’t know…” Hutch admitted, “I just don’t know.”
“God gave us a miracle when he survived before, then he gave us another miracle when you found him this time…” Rachel said softly “Let’s pray that he spare just one more….” She looked at Hutch with a soft smile “He’s lucky to have someone like you watching for him. A friend who loves him as much as you do.” She glanced back at her eldest son “And if love is enough, then he’ll pull through this too….”
The door to the room opened softly and a nurse looked. “Detective Hutchinson?” she said quietly “There’s a call for you at the nurse’s station. A Captain Dobey.”
“Thank you.” Hutch acknowledged. He put a comforting hand on Rachel’s shoulder as he shoved himself to his feet “I’ll be right back.” Rachel nodded and turned her attention back to her son’s heavily bruised and battered face. She said a silent prayer for God to save her son’s life once more.
Fifteen minutes later, Hutch came back into the room. He was quiet and subdued, a scowl on his face as he resumed his seat beside Rachel. Frowning slightly, she reached out to touch his arm gently and said quietly “Ken, is everything all right? That phone call wasn’t bad news, was it?”
“That depends on how you look at it.” Hutch said, his mouth tightening into a hard thin line. He sighed and took a deep breath “James Gunther was killed in his prison cell last night.”
“Gunther? That’s the man who hired those two men to try and kill David.”
“That’s right. And whoever took Gunther out was probably paid quite a bit to make the hit.” His eyes darkened “The prison officials found proof in Gunther’s cell that he was the money man for what happened to Starsky this time.”
“The West Coast connection.” Rachel whispered
“That’s right.”
“I know it’s a sin to speak ill of the dead but I’m not sorry that man is dead.” Rachel said grimly.
“Neither am I. If anyone ever deserved to die, it was Gunther.” Hutch said gruffly. “Hopefully they’ll be able to find something in his papers that will tell us who paid the highest price to get their hands on Starsky.”
“Joe had him killed, didn’t he?”
“Probably. He said he’d take of it…” Hutch said suddenly feeling exhausted, both physically and mentally. He knew he should feel something, anything, but all he could feel was empty.
“Why don’t you go get some coffee and something to eat?” Rachel suggested, sensing Hutch’s mood. “You need to keep your strength up…for David’s sake.” She smiled encouragingly “Go on. I’ll be okay.” She patted his hand gently as their eyes met, communicating silently much as he often did with her son. Hutch nodded and stood up.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked
“Maybe some coffee.”
Hutch nodded as he turned to leave the room. With one last glance at his silent partner, he opened the door and stepped into the hall. He went down to the cafeteria where he managed to choke down a chicken salad sandwich and a stale cup of coffee. When he went back up the I.C.U., he saw Nick lounging at the nurse’s station flirting with the pretty nurse on duty.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Hutch growled as he stepped up behind the younger Starsky.
“Hey, Hutch…” Nicky said turning around and giving Hutch one of his phony plastic smiles. “I just came by to see how Davy was doing.”
Hutch’s temper flared at Nicky’s gall. Without any warning, he grabbed the younger man’s shirt with both hands and slammed him back against the wall beside the nurse’s station. Pinning him there with his heavier weight, he put his right forearm against the stunned man’s throat and glared into his eyes with a cold deadly stare. “You have no business here!” Hutch growled, “I know all about your part in selling out your own brother!” He watched as Nicky’s eyes widened in alarm and more than a little fear at the tall blond’s rage.
“Hey, Hutch…come on, man…” Nicky spluttered, “It’s not what you think. I had no idea they were going to do something like this to him!”
“You’re a lying piece of shit!” Hutch snarled “And I’d like nothing more than to tear you apart with my bare hands! But I’ll let Joey handle that…I’m sure he’s got something more suitable in mind for you…he already had Gunther hit in prison.” Nicky started to say something but stopped when Hutch pressed his forearm harder against his throat “But I’m warning you…if I ever catch you anywhere near your brother again….I’ll kill you myself! You got that, you sorry piece of garbage?” He released his hold on Nicky and stepped back “Now get your sorry ass out of here and don’t come back!”
Nick didn’t need to be told twice. Without a backward glance, he hurried down the hallway and disappeared. The young nurse stood there staring at the tall blond with a combination of fear and admiration. She pulled her hand back from the phone where she had been ready to call hospital security. She’d heard enough of the confrontation to understand the emotions behind it. She didn’t thi