Katherine

   Didya ever do somethin' and wonder if you'd done somethin' really stupid?

   I did. I thought I'd messed up, really messed up.

   Oh sorry. The names Bernston, Gerald Bernston. Officer Gerald Bernston. Everybody calls me Bernie, though.

   I'm a cop. It's the only thing I ever wanted to be. Boy was my family proud when I graduated from the Academy. My parents and my wife and our kids, two little boys. They're twins. Named after my father and my wife's father, James and Robert. But that was awhile ago. I've been on the job a long time. I'm eligible for a pension in a couple of years. If I don't mess up, that is. And I thought I had. Really messed up.

   I'm a street cop. I was never really interested in being a detective. I love my job. I got a good captain, Captain Dobey and a good partner, Hank Stevenson. He's been on the force for a while, too. He's happy cruising the streets, like me.

   Anyway, I did something that really has me worried. It all started when one of our detectives disappeared. His name's Ken Hutchinson, a tall good-looking blond, the All-American boy type. They told us to be on the lookout for him in roll call that first morning. The order was repeated the next few mornings, because he didn't turn up. No one had any leads on him. Everybody knew his partner, Dave Starsky, was frantic about him.

   Don't get me wrong. I didn't have anything against either one of them. I had seen Starsky and Hutchinson around. Starsky calls his partner "Hutch", and most of the guys in the precinct do too. These two seem to be good guys, very good cops. Honest and all. And nice. Always friendly, kidding around with the other cops. But everyone knows that they have something special. Whatever it is, it goes beyond Partnership and Friendship. Just seeing them together, you know that these two will do anything for each other.

   Which makes what happened not that surprising, I guess. I mean, Hutchinson had been missing for awhile, like I said. Hank and I were cruising when we saw this blond guy staggering around, running into people.

   "Hey isn't that that detective?" I asked. I don't know why I recognized him. The guy couldn't even stand up, and he was barely able to weave his way down the sidewalk. He was sure nothing like the detective I knew. Even in plainclothes, dressed to fit in with the street people, Starsky's partner always looked like the boy next door.

   I looked again. It was Hutchinson. "Yeah, Hutchinson. There's a missing officer out on him. Call it in."

   Hank stayed with the unit while I followed the blond into the alley. He must have used up all of his energy to get that far. His legs wouldn't support him anymore and he collapsed, rolling into a ball and holding his stomach. This man was in pain. He lay there in the alley, his body all curled up and shaking. I bent over him, but before I could say anything, a red Torino with a Mars light stuck on top roared into the alley. Starsky.

   He was out of the car in a split second, calling his partner's name and kneeling in front of him. He raised the blond up and put his hands on either side of his face. The man looked awful. I don't know how he could even sit up. His face looked like someone ran over him, several times. It was just about one big bruise. Somebody had really worked him over. He was breathing hard and shaking and sweating. It was horrible to see. No telling how bad it felt. I mean this guy is always neat looking. Like I said, an All-American type, blond, blue eyes, tall and lean. Always clean-cut. And now he looked like he'd be at home on the lowest streets in the city. He looked like a drunk or a…Starsky had this real strange look on his face, like he was trying to figure something out. Hutchinson had been beat up, beat up bad. But it was more than that, and Starsky was trying to get a handle on what it was. I could almost see the wheels turning. He looked hard at Hutch, like he wasn't sure it was really him.

   I was feeling confused, so I asked, "He's you partner, isn't he?"

   He said "yeah," but he still looked confused. He looked into the blond's eyes, and whatever he saw there told him something. Then he got it, whatever it was. And then he reached down to tear Hutch's sleeve open and pulled up his arm.

   Hutch seemed really disoriented and confused. When Starsky looked at the arm, Hutch did, too, like it didn't belong to him, like he didn't know what Starsky was looking for, like he didn’t even know the arm was attached to him.

   I couldn't help it. When I saw the tracks, I yelled, "My God, he's a junkie!"

   Starsky's attention was on Hutchinson. The blond seemed horrified by what I'd said, and he tried to crawl away from my accusation, like he couldn't stand what I'd said. But he was so weak, he fell over, and Starsky just held on to him. Even moving a little like that must have made him feel sick, and all he could do was groan while Starsky held him and rubbed his back, trying to soothe him.

   "Shut up, huh? I'll handle it." Starsky was talking to me. He was holding on to Hutchinson for dear life, trying to figure out what to do.

   I couldn't believe it. I shook my head. I knew what he wanted me to do. "I gotta make a report."

   Starsky shook his head and grabbed my shirt. "No report. This didn't happen, Bernie. Understand? This didn't happen."

   I didn't say anything, but I guess he knew what was going through my mind.

   "I'll take responsibility."

   I nodded. What else could I do? The man's a sergeant. And we were talking about his partner. He said, "Thanks", and slapped my arm in gratitude.

   But his mind was already working on what to do next. He was worried about his partner.

   I helped him get Hutchinson into Starsky's car. It wasn't easy. Hutch was weak and sick and scared. It took both of us to handle him, but he was finally in the front seat of the Torino, leaning his head on the back of the seat. He looked so bad I realized that it might not be a problem. If he didn't survive, the whole thing would go away. And I wasn't sure he would survive. He looked like Death. I sure hoped Starsky knew what he was doing.

   "Was it Hutchinson?" Hank asked when I got in the car.

   "Yeah." All the time I'm thinking, 'What have I done? What if he really is an addict? What if Starsky's covering for him? What if…"

   "Bernie?" Hank must have been talking to me. He sounded frustrated, like he'd asked me a question, more than once.

   "Huh?"

   "Aren't you gonna call it in, that we found Hutchinson?"

   "Uh, no, Starsky said he'd take care of it."

   "What about the report?

   "Oh…I guess he'll do that, too."

   Hank didn't say anything else, but I knew he thought it was strange. I could relate, I thought it was strange, too.

   I worried for the next two days. No one said anything about Starsky finding Hutch. And now, they'd both disappeared. Not a word from or about either one of them. Hank and I heard on the street that someone was looking for them, but it wasn't a cop. Other than that, not a word. It was like the scene in the alley had never happened.

   Something really weird was going on. I kept thinking that I was covering for an addict, letting an unfit cop roam around the city. I'd never heard even a whisper that Hutchinson was dirty. He and Starsky had a rep for being good, honest cops; their loyalty to each other was almost a legend in the precinct. I kept asking myself the same questions over and over. Had that loyalty gone too far? Was Starsky keeping it quiet because of some kind of misguided commitment to Hutch? Had they gone to ground while Hutch looked for a score? I didn't know, and it sure worried me.

   I couldn't even talk to Hank about it. If I told him, and things went bad, he'd get into trouble, too. It was better if he didn't know anything. If something went wrong, if Hutchinson was a junkie and Dobey or the higher-ups found out that I knew about it, I didn't want Hank to part of it. It was my problem. But I could lose my pension if anyone found out. I couldn't afford that. I had a family to think about.

   I almost talked to Dobey, told him what happened. But Starsky had said he'd take responsibility. I had kind of promised him that I'd let him take care of it. So all I could do was wait, and hope I hadn't done something really stupid, something that could get me in a lot of trouble, not to mention keeping a dirty cop on the force and endangering the cops who worked with him, including his partner.

   Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep the next couple of nights. I just knew Dobey would find out, and fry me, if you know what I mean.

   So, on the third day, I decided to talk to Dobey. Better to tell him late than have him find out some other way. But I didn't want to do it in front of anybody, so I decided to go in early and try to catch him when he was alone. Hank and I were on afternoons, so Dobey should already be there when I reported in.

   I loitered around the candy machine for a while, waiting for Dobey. If I was really lucky, he'd come and get a candy bar. He did most days, but he liked to think no one noticed, so no one said anything to him about it, and kind of turned their backs when he went to the machine.

   I nearly jumped out of my skin when he barreled past me. I don't think he even saw me. I'd never seen him move so fast. I followed, planning to catch up with him when he stopped so I could talk to him. To my surprise, he went out to the front of the building and stood on the steps, kind of bouncing on his toes like he was waiting for something. I started to go up to him, but a red flash roared to a stop in front of the precinct. Starsky's Torino.

   Dobey was standing at the passenger door, opening it. The passenger was Hutchinson. The passenger side front window was busted out so I could see real clear; he looked up at Dobey. He looked scared, like a little kid who thinks he's gonna get yelled at about something. He took a deep breath when Dobey grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

   Hutch still looked bad, pale and sickly, and kind of frail. But at least he could stand, although he looked kind of wobbly to me when he got out of the car. Dobey put his hand on the blond's arm and steadied him while Starsky jumped out and ran around the car to his partner.

   Dobey was grinning at Hutch, like he was glad to see him. Hutch kept glancing at him, like he didn't know how Dobey would react to him, but the captain just put a hand on his shoulder. I heard him say, "Welcome back, Detective," and I never saw such relief on anyone's face before. I don't know what Hutch thought Dobey would do, but he sure was glad he didn't do it.

   I ducked back into the building and found a conveniently empty office to step into; okay, so I was hiding. I didn't want Starsky to know how uptight I was over this. He'd said he'd handle it.

   The three men walked into the building. Dobey and Starsky were moving slow so Hutch could keep up. He was walking on his own, but Starsky was kind of hovering, like he wanted to be there in case this partner needed help. And Dobey was watching both of them, looking kind of worried.

   A black and white pulled up behind the Torino, and the uniforms brought in a man. He looked like he was headed for the tropics. He wore one of those white hats and a expensive clothes like people in those travel magazines my wife likes to read.

   I was still worried. And I hated doing it, but I still wanted to talk to Dobey. I was going to go crazy if I didn't.

   I waited around. It wasn't long before I saw the captain, lumbering down the hall. He looked as happy as he ever does, so I kind of thought about dropping the whole thing. But I couldn't. Like I said, it was driving me crazy.

   "Uh, Captain. Could I talk to you for a minute?"

   "Can it wait for a minute, Bernie? I have to make a couple of calls." I guess he could see that I really needed to talk 'cause he added, "Go on and get dressed for your shift. Come back before you log in."

   I nodded my head gratefully. "Thanks, Captain."

   When I finished dressing, I went to the captain's door. It was open. I walked in, my hat in my hand. He looked up but didn't say anything. "Captain, could I close the door?" His eyes narrowed, but he nodded.

   Just my luck. I saw Starsky coming down the hall, and tried to close the Captain's door before he saw me, but I was too slow. Captain Dobey pointed at the chair in front of him. Just as I was sitting down, Starsky came in without knocking. He just stood in the doorway, looking from me to Dobey and back again.

   "Starsky, what is it? Can you come back later?"

   Starsky shook his head. "Nope. I think I need to be here right now, Cap."

   I sighed. Starsky was no dummy. I knew he'd figured out what I wanted to talk to the captain about.

   "Where's Hutchinson?" Dobey asked. I could hear the concern in his voice.

   "Our friend is refusing to say anything, so I stopped the 'interrogation'," Starsky said. He was looking at me, but he was talking to our captain. "We've got enough on him with his thug's testimony."

   Dobey growled. "Okay, so where's Hutchinson?"

   "Hutch isn't feelin' too well. He's in the observation room. I asked Minnie to get him some coffee, while I came to tell you we're leavin'."

   "So, leave," Dobey told him.

   "Uh, no Cap. I want to hear what Bernie has to say. Minnie will stay with Hutch until I get back."

   "That okay with you, Bernie?" Dobey was confused. So was I.

   I shrugged. "Sure, okay."

   Dave sat down in the other chair, and stared at me. I could see the anger in his eyes, but he spoke calmly. "I thought we had this figured out, Bernie."

   I shook my head. "Sorry, Starsky. I just can't do it. I can't cover for your partner."

   Dobey's eyes narrowed. "What are you talkin' about, Bernston?"

   I had to clear my throat twice before I could get a word out. "I was in the alley where Hutchinson was found. I…I saw the needle tracks on his arm. Starsky said he'd handle it, but…"

   Starsky started to stand up, but Dobey glared him back into the chair. "Go on." That's one thing about Dobey, he cares about his personnel and everybody knows it. And he's fair. You might not like how he handles things, but he's always fair in his dealings with his people.

   I cleared my throat again, wishing I had the nerve to ask for water from the cooler in the corner. But Starsky was staring at me, and Dobey was getting impatient. So I swallowed hard and tried again. "I saw the tracks. Needle tracks. I've seen enough to know a user when I see one."

   I didn't know Dobey could move so fast. Starsky was coming for me, but somehow Dobey was in front of me, standing between us, protecting me from one very angry cop.

   "Starsky, sit down. Now." Dobey perched on the edge of his desk, not an easy thing for someone as big as he is. But it put him in a position to stop Starsky if the need occurred again. "Go on, Bernie."

   "That’s all I have to say."

   "Starsky?"

   "He's not a user," Starsky said softly. He drew a deep breath. I swear there were tears in his eyes. "He was kidnapped, Bernie. They knocked him out and took him somewhere, then they beat him. You saw him. You could see what kind of damage they did. They bound his wrists and shot him full of stuff. He was blindfolded, Bernie. He was tied up and helpless. Then they quit giving him the stuff. They strung him out, so they could get some information from him. They were gonna kill him, Bernie. They were taking him to the Point. They were going to make sure his body was never found. I'll never know how he found the strength to get away. You saw him in the alley. He couldn't even stand. Barely knew his own name.

   And I'll tell you something else, Bernie. I don't know how he survived what he had to go through to get clean. Cold turkey, Bernie. He did it cold turkey, without any supplements or substitutes. No medicines, no medical help. Just his own strength and stubbornness. He did it Bernie. All I could do is be there, try to help where I could. And we kicked it.

   It was hard. It was the toughest thing we've ever gone through, and I'm still not sure where we got the strength to make it. But we did."

   I wondered if Starsky realized he had started saying "we" instead of "he", but I didn't say anything.

   "He shouldn't have had to go through it, Bernie. He's a good cop. And more important, he's a good man. He was trying to protect someone, and he ended up in an alley, weak and sick and in pain. It wasn't his fault. He was a victim, just like those people on the street we're supposed to protect and serve. That's why I said I'd take responsibility. I wanted to protect him, just like I'd protect any innocent victim. Just like you would. They hurt him. They hurt him bad, and it'll take awhile for us to get over it.

   "But there's one thing that ain't gonna happen, Bernie. If I can help it, Hutch isn't gonna have to lose his job over this. He's a good cop, and a good partner. The best. I ain't gonna let what those guys did to him ruin him. Understand? And if you decide that you have to put in a report, I'll fight you all the way. You got it?"

    I nodded. I got it.

   Before I could say more, someone knocked on the door. It was Hutchinson. Dobey, Starsky and me just sat there, looking at him. He was leaning against the doorframe. He looked wiped out and totally exhausted. "Sorry, I didn't know I was interrupting…" he mumbled.

   Starsky was up, putting his arm around the blond, helping him to the chair. "Sit down, Partner," he ordered gently.

   We all sat in silence. Starsky was focusing on his partner, who seemed on the verge of complete collapse. Dobey was focusing on me, and I couldn't take my eyes off of the two detectives. Hutchinson was slumped in the chair; Starsky was perched on the arm of the chair, his arm around Hutch's shoulders.

   "You ready to go home, Buddy?" Starsky asked.

   Hutchinson nodded. "Yeah."

   Starsky stood and pulled Hutch to his feet, putting an arm around his waist, while he pulled Hutch's arm over his shoulders and held on. He didn't even glance at me. I guess he thought I knew where he stood. He had nothing else to say to me.

   But Hutchinson looked at me and smiled. He looked a little embarrassed. "I…uh…I feel like I should thank you for something. But I don't know what. I…my memory is a little hazy…these days."

   Starsky was just staring at him. I saw tears forming in his eyes, but Hutch didn't notice.

   Hutch managed a wry grin. "Well…anyway, thanks, Bernie. At least I remember that I need to thank you, even if I don't remember why. So, thanks." He leaned into Starsky's hold and said, " Let's go Partner. I want you to get some rest."

   Starsky shook his head like he was saying "what am I gonna do with him?"

   After they walked out, I looked at Dobey. He was behind his desk again, watching me silently.

   "Well, I guess I'd better get to work," I said lamely as I stood and headed for the door.

   "When would you like to talk to IA?" he asked softly.

   I just stood there for a minute, fingering my hat. "I don't know what you're talking about, Captain." And I went out to the unit. It was time to go to work, to protect and to serve.

THE END