Sinjin

   Starsky arrived right on time and Hutch settled into the Torino for the ride downtown. Hutch mentioned his trip to the blues club.

   "Hey, I happen to know where you can hear some more of that stuff at this time of night." Starsky fiddled with the radio until he found a scratchy blues station. Billie Holiday was singing "That's Life I Guess" and Starsky couldn't resist joining in even though he only knew about half the words. 

   Hutch leaned over and turned up the volume. "Let the lady sing in peace, will ya?" he said in mock irritation. Starsky simply raised his own voice to match Billie's. Hutch had to laugh. His partner couldn't quite carry a tune, but he sang with gusto. Hutch decided not to upstage him and only wondered what Dobey would think of his detectives carrying on like this. Starsky turned off the radio as they pulled up across the street from Mr. Martinez's cigar shop.

   "Look, Starsk, I don't mean to cast aspersions on the great tomato, but don't you think we ought to move a little farther down the street?"

   "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were implying that this great engineering marvel was some sort of eyesore," said Starsky. But he did coast further down the block. It was few minutes to ten.

   "Do you think this Streeter character will have called the whole thing off after talking to Mickey?" asked Hutch.

   "Probably," answered Starsky.

   "Gee, partner. That's great. Mind tell me why we're even bothering to do this? Unauthorized and all."

   "I believe in hunches. I think you sensed something this afternoon."

   "Yeah, that hunch sure played out well," said Hutch. "I call any more like that and I'll be up for a promotion for sure."

   "I think there is something going on. Maybe not with Mickey. But, I don't know, even that is possible."

   The mention of Mickey's name made Hutch flinch ever so slightly. He no longer felt annoyance, only shame.

   It was 10 o'clock and the detectives watched Mr. Martinez shutting and locking cases for the evening. He was alone in the store.

   "He sure keeps late hours for such an old man," said Hutch.

   Just then a woman turned the corner and headed for the door of the cigar shop. She had on a miniskirt and four inch heels. Hutch grabbed a pair of binoculars for a better look.

   "Whaddaya got?" asked Starsky.

   "Give me a minute... That woman looks familiar."

   "Lemme see." Without missing a beat Starsky grabbed the binoculars.

   "I wasn't finished looking, you know."

   "She's familiar all right. I've seen her a few times down at the precinct being booked for solicitation. I haven't seen her lately though."

   Hutch grabbed the binoculars and took another look. "She seems a little old to be a working girl." He focused the lenses some more. "In fact, she looks like what my father used to refer to as 'nine miles of bad road.'"

   "Damn, Hutch, that's cold."

   Hutch looked at his partner a little guiltily. "Well, I just meant that, I don't know. You gotta admit Starsk, she's pretty old."

   "I bet she has no trouble getting johns. It's not just about sex. A lot of people are plain lonely. Maybe when you get older, you start to understand that."

   "It's not like you to get philosophical about such things."

   "I'm just saying that sometimes life is complicated. I don't think we're in a position to judge."

   Hutch was about to say something when he noticed some activity. Mr. Martinez placed a box of cigars on the counter and pushed it towards the woman. She in turn removed an envelope from her purse and quickly pushed it towards Mr. Martinez. She then left the store. Hutch described what he saw to Starsky. "What do you think that was all about?"

   "Don't know. You want to question Martinez or follow the woman?"

   "I'll take Martinez," said Hutch as he left the car. He jogged across the street and met the old man at the door as he was about to lock it. Martinez seemed none too pleased by Hutch's presence but he decided to let the detective in.

   "I'm Detective Ken Hutchinson. We spoke earlier today."

   "Yes, I remember. I also remember telling you that you had the wrong information."

   "Well, I just wanted to be sure. Sometimes people decide to protect other people for the wrong reasons."

   "Listen, Detective, I'm very tired. I just want to go home."

   "Sure, but I want to ask you about your last customer."

   "Hey, I don't keep tabs on my customers."

   "You must know she's a prostitute."

   "That makes no difference to me. She pays like anyone else. I guess her clients enjoy a good cigar. Tells me she's a classy broad."

   "Well, I noticed she handed you an envelope as payment. Is that typical behavior for the classy broads?"

   "Look, unless you got a search warrant, I want you to leave. I've got nothing more to say to you." Hutch sighed, nodded to Martinez and left the store. He was reminded again of Dobey's lecture. With the stunt he'd pulled this afternoon he'd ruined any chances of getting the Department's blessing for this operation, let alone a warrant. He walked back to the Torino and waited for his partner.

   Starsky caught up to the woman on the next street. Without looking at him, she began: "Either make me an offer or arrest me, I don't need no escort."

   "The lady's got a good memory."

   "The lady's late for an important meeting."

   "Mind if I ask you what you were doing in the cigar shop?"

   The woman stopped and faced Starsky. "I don't suppose buying cigars is too obvious an answer. I ain't into this cat and mouse game, so make your point."

   "I think maybe you've got more than an interest in cigars."

   "If you're implying that I've got an interest in Mr. Martinez, you're way off, baby," the woman said laughing. "He couldn't keep up with me. But I bet I could give you a run for your money." With that she walked off.

   Starsky couldn't justify pursuing it further. Bringing her in for further questioning would be fruitless and a box of cigars with an unbroken seal was hardly incriminating evidence. He returned to the Torino.

   Together the detectives tried to put the pieces together. "Well, it seems the woman's paying off Martinez for something. So it doesn't seem as if he's the one getting the shakedown," said Hutch. "Beyond that, I don't know."

   "So we know some of the players, but not the game. We'll have to let it go at that for now." Starsky put his key in the ignition and roared down the street. He was thinking of how much more of the Eastwood marathon he could afford to watch and still get a good night's sleep.

********

   After her meeting with the brunet detective the woman who called herself "Liv," after Liv Ullman, hailed a cab and headed for the other side of town.

   "So, you working tonight, honey?" asked the cab driver.

   "Just drive the damn car, will ya?" she said tiredly.

   "I'm only trying to make conversation."

   "Yeah, well, don't take it personally. I'm a little world weary tonight."

   "I hear that."

   They drove the rest of the way in silence.

   The cab stopped in front of a suburban home. The cabbie wondered what sort of arrangement this could be, but he stopped himself from asking. Liv gave him a healthy tip and a smile that seemed sincere though sad. He watched her approach the front stoop; part of him wanted to see that she got inside safely. Once the door closed behind her, he drove off.

   Nick Perelli was waiting inside, drinking a beer.

   "Can I have one of those?" asked Liv.

   "Sure, just don't forget what you came for."

   He went to the kitchen and got her a beer. "And I take it you have a box of fine Havana specials for me, Liv?"

   She tossed him the cigars and took a seat on the couch with the beer. She began to wonder exactly when it was that her life had taken the turn it did. But it was so long ago, there didn't seem to be much point in pursuing it. Liv looked at Nick and wondered when he had decided that being a cop just wasn't enough. She watched him remove a layer of cigars and sigh with satisfaction at what he found underneath. She felt disgusted by it all.

   "I had company tonight," said Liv.

   "What do you mean?"

   "A cop, a cute little one at that."

   "What the hell did he want?"

   "Wanted to know what I found so interesting about Mr. Martinez."

   "Damn, if that old man isn't trying to double cross me. You recognize the cop?"

   "I've seen him before, in the days before you let me operate so 'liberally,' shall we say." He has dark hair, nice blue eyes, and a Polish name, I think. Something that ends in a "ski."

   "Starsky?"

   "Yeah, that could be it."

   Perelli grabbed her arm with some force. "Could be or is?"

   "Take it easy, Nick," she said, pulling her arm away and rubbing it. "Yes, I'm pretty sure it was Starsky."

   He looked at Liv and sighed. "I'm sorry, baby. Didn't mean to take it out on you. I'm just wondering what the hell Starsky's doing snooping around. And chances are good his partner wasn't far behind. Did you see anyone else?"

   "No, just Starsky."

   "All right. You relax here. I've gotta make some phone calls."

   After about fifteen minutes, Perelli returned to the livingroom. He stopped to smile at Liv and then walked upstairs to the bedroom and began to disrobe. Liv followed him and started to take off her clothes in a corner of the room.

   "I've been missing you, babe," said Nick in the darkness.

   Liv stopped momentarily in the act of removing her stockings. "Have you really?" she said with marked weariness in her voice.

   "I can't remember when I've uttered a more honest sentence."

   There was something in Nick's voice that rang true and Liv wondered at it. "My God, I almost believe you."

   "You ain't got to question me, baby. I'm the real thing."

   Liv sighed deeply. "You know, Nick, every time I make the mistake of thinking you could be a decent guy, I get slapped in the face." She laughed quietly at the statement.

   "There was a time when I would have put stock in that kind of faith."

   Liv turned to Nick with tears in her eyes. She desperately wanted to respond to the earnestness she sensed behind the words, but she didn't know where to begin.

   "Hey, Liv, don't go soft on me now. We've both seen too much living for that sort of sentimentality."

   "Don't I know it." Liv tried to regain a hard edge that would belie the vulnerability she felt was consuming her. She draped her skirt and blouse over a chair and turned to face Nick. She knew it would be easiest to merely submit to him in the dark and push aside any feelings or attachments, but somehow she couldn't help but believe that they shared something special and terrifying -- a communion of loneliness and despair assuaged by a few hours of pretended tenderness.

   Nick pulled her into his arms and sensed that she was trembling. The sensation unnerved him, while awakening a protectiveness in him he'd long thought dead. "Hey, Liv, what's going on?"

   "You were married once, right?"

   "Well, if truth be told, twice."

   "I was married once myself. But I couldn't get over the feeling that I was missing something more."

   "So you wanted variety, huh? I guess coming home to one old sorry sack just wasn't your bag."

   "Goddammit, Nick!" said Liv nearly yelling. She pulled away from him and into herself.

   "What's the matter, baby?"

   "I'm trying to talk to you. Like one human being to another. Quit talking to me like I'm some one night stand!"

   Nick was silent for a while. "Liv, I thought we understood each other."

   The words cut Liv like a knife. "God, Nick."

   "It's a little late in the game to start changing the rules, don't you think?"

   "I suppose."

   "Then how about you come over here and give me some lovin'?"

   Liv turned to Nick and began to kiss him softly on the chest. She turned slightly to brush away the tears before they hit his flesh. She knew it was too late to change the tide of her life or his. All she could hope for was an ending that was kind in its swiftness. She closed her mind to all other thoughts and buried herself in Nick, hoping only for oblivion.

********

   Mr. Martinez quickly locked the door to his shop after Hutch's departure. He wasted no time placing a call to his son. On the third ring, Carlos answered the phone.

   "I just received another visit from a Detective Hutchinson. I get the feeling that Perelli is trying to spread the wealth. Tonight I made the final payment. It's time to put this whole thing to rest."

   "If it's any consolation, I believe Perelli's too greedy to share any of his action. Besides, I know for a fact even his partner hasn't a clue about his side business. I doubt he'd tell anyone else in the Department."

   "Maybe, but I want you to be on guard, just in case."

   "Okay, Pop."

********

   While Starsky sat fully entranced by High Plains Drifter, Hutch was making plans to return to the blues club. When he got there he spotted the woman who had been performing earlier taking a break at the bar and finishing a drink.

   "Can I buy the woman with the golden voice another drink?"

   "I get them for free here and besides two club sodas a night is about my limit."

   Hutch laughed and ordered himself a gin and tonic. "Will you be singing again tonight?"

   "I've got one more set."

   "Then I'm in luck."

   She gave him a half smile and walked back to the piano. Hutch decided to stop trying to charm the woman and just enjoy her incredible voice.

********

   At 9 the next morning, Dr. Cooper sat at his desk and watched as Diana Harmon was led in by an attendant. She took a seat and stared at the doctor nervously.

   "Miss Harmon," began Dr. Cooper, leaning back in his chair and interlacing his fingers, "you do understand that we are all here to help you."

   "Yes, I want to believe that."

   "Then you must put your full faith in it. You must be willing to embrace the truth, however painful it may be. That is the only way you are going to get better."

   "I know, Doctor. I'm ready."

   "Good." He came out from behind the desk and took a seat next to Diana. He took a deep breath and then began. "I want you to tell me about Ken Hutchinson."

   Diana shuddered. "I loved him. I loved him very much."

   "What else, Diana."

   "What do you mean?"

   "What did he do to you? Tell me how he hurt you."

   "He didn't hurt me. It was Starsky. He didn't like me. I think he told Hutch not to like me, but I don't know."

   "Don't change the subject, Diana. Hutch is the one that hurt you."

   Diana suddenly faced the doctor as if she had remembered something striking.

   "What is it? What do you see?"

   "The knife. I remember the knife."

   "Hutch was threatening you; you had to defend yourself."

   "No!"

   "Stop repressing the memories, Diana!"

   "I had the knife! I stabbed him! I wanted him to be dead!"

   "It's understandable, Diana, after all his abuse. You were just trying to defend yourself. You didn't have a choice. Nobody is blaming you."

   "No, it isn't true!" Diana jumped up and began pacing back and forth, wringing her hands.

   "Sit down, Diana. You need to relax."

   "No, you're confusing me again. It's not like you say. It was me. I didn't want any one else to have Hutch. I was going to make sure no one could have him. It was me. I was going to kill him so that nobody could have him." Diana stopped pacing and sank to the floor sobbing. "I just didn't want him to leave. Like everyone else had left. He must hate me. My God, what have I done?"

   Dr. Cooper came to Diana's side and coaxed her back into her chair. "You have to stop blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault."

   "Of course it's my fault! Why else would I be in here! I'm crazy, right?"

   "No, Diana, that's not true." He held on to her hands and tried to calm their shaking. "You were an abused woman. They didn't understand that."

   "That's not true! Why do you keep saying that? You're trying to confuse me! I know what I did! He must hate me, Doctor. I don't want him to hate me." Diana began to rock in the chair and cry uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

   "Now, Diana --"

   "I don't want to hear any more from you! I know what I know! You're just trying to trick me!"

   Dr. Cooper went to his phone and called for several attendants. When they arrived the doctor gave orders to have Diana restrained and sedated. She resisted and began to yell at Dr. Cooper. He in turn rolled his eyes in front of the attendants as if to confirm that the woman was indeed hysterical. The attendants gave her the necessary shots and wheeled Diana back to her room. Once alone, Dr. Cooper opened Diana's file and recorded his notes for the session: Miss Harmon continues to feel threatened by her ex-boyfriend. She has made repeated threats to his life in therapy sessions...

********

   Hutch was grateful that this morning the weather was a little cooler. He was tired but happy, though he didn't quite know why. He hadn't been able to talk to the woman again last night. He didn't even know her name. But he felt happy, nonetheless. As he entered the squad room, he saw Starsky bent over his desk, raising his head high enough only to take a sip from a large mug of black coffee.

   "Tell me, partner, just how much of that Eastwood marathon did you watch last night?"

   "Don't ask."

   "Feeling that bad, huh?"

   "Yeah, as a matter of fact. Is there some reason that you're so chipper this morning."

   "I don't know, Starsk. It's a beautiful day; I've got my health. Everything just seems right with the world."

   "Oh, cut the crap. Yesterday, you were biting people's heads off. Don't tell me a few degrees of cooler weather is responsible for this turnabout."

   "Well, maybe not entirely," Hutch said grinning.

   "Don't tell me -- the singer at the club?"

   "It's not what you're thinking."

   "How do you know what I'm thinking?"

   "I just enjoyed her singing. It wasn't about picking her up or trying to impress her."

   "So you struck out?"

   "No, I didn't strike out. I wasn't even batting."

   "Yeah, right."

   Hutch was about to counter his partner's remark when Dobey came out of his office, scanning the squad room. "You looking for us, Captain?" he asked instead.

   "Not this time." He spotted Detective Quintero across the room and addressed him with a roar: "Where in the livin' hell is your partner?"

   "Now Captain, take it easy. I'm sure there is a good explanation."

   "Yeah, I get a lot of that sort of thing," Dobey said glaring at Starsky and Hutch.

   "Hey, when did this start being about us?" said Starsky.

   "Never mind. Quintero, as soon as Perelli does show up, I want you both in my office. You got that?"

   "Got it, Captain," said the young detective.

********

   Perelli checked his service revolver before climbing out of his Mustang. He had parked behind the mobile home park and was determined to approach on foot so as not to announce his visit. He nearly tripped over a big-wheels as he turned the corner of a modest trailer and cursed under his breath. Perelli walked down two more rows until he was sure he had come to the right dwelling. He knocked on the door.

   "Who's there?" a sleepy male voice called after a few moments of silence.

   "It's Perelli."

   "All right, I'm coming." As the latch was released and the door unlocked, Perelli shoved his full weight against it and nearly sent the man behind it flying. Perelli shoved the man onto a couch face down, twisting his left arm behind him.

   "What the hell --" yelled the man. At the same time a half dressed woman appeared at the door and began to scream.

   "Tell the bitch to shut up!" hissed Perelli. "Or I swear I'll put a bullet in your brain right now!"

   "It's okay, Teresa. Calm down," said the man. He tried to turn around and face Perelli, but he was pinned to the couch. "Man, what is the matter with you?"

   "Hey, Teresa, me and Carlos here need to have a talk. Would you mind going back in the bedroom?"

   Teresa was wide-eyed and shaking. She seemed unable to move.

   "Sweetheart, it's ok. Just go in the bedroom."

   When the two men were alone, Perelli let go of his grip, but he kept his weapon leveled at the man. "What are you and your old man trying to pull, Carlos?"

   "You come in here putting a gun to my head and scaring my girl half to death and you ask me what I'm trying to pull?"

   "Old man Martinez been talking to the cops? 'Cause they sure seem mighty interested in him all of a sudden."

   "Well, he's been wondering about the same thing."

   "I just had the last of the negatives delivered. All in good faith, just like I promised."

   "And you were paid, as promised. Then my father calls with news that another detective came snooping around. He thought the guy might be one of your converts."

   "Who was he?"

   "Someone called Hutchinson. He came to the shop trying to find out who was shaking the old man down. Said he'd heard there'd be trouble at closing time."

   "Damn, I had a feeling both Starsky and Hutchinson were in on this."

   "In on what? It better not have anything to do with me and my old man. As far as we're concerned the relationship with you is over."

   "Don't get an attitude with me. I don't have to tell you what immigration would have to say about your little marketing enterprise."

   "Damn, Perelli. You've been holding those pictures over my head for nearly two years. The debt has been paid. It's over. If this is your attempt to renegotiate, forget it. You'd best be concerned with who's watching your back. Besides, if we was gonna rat you out, we'd have done it a long time ago. Seems you're the one getting sloppy."

   Perelli put his gun back in its holster and backed towards the door. "I want to know what goes on. If your father has any more dealings with Hutchinson, you call me."

   "Like hell, I will. This is your mess now; you fix it."

   The detective was beginning to feel outmaneuvered. Two years ago, Carlos had only recently arrived in the country. He was new to its regulations and the lay of the land. He had gotten involved in a series of minor drug deals and wound up on a surveillance tape. Perelli had been assigned to the case and had managed to edit the tapes, hoping for some leverage with the older Martinez who seemed to have a profitable business. The father and son had been only too willing to go along with the plan then, but the son in particular had grown more savvy in the last few months. It hadn't taken him too long to realize that paying off the cops was not a given; it was localized corruption, not a systemic problem. Knowing that he would already be missed at the station, the detective decided not to keep pushing a hand that no longer appeared to be a winner.

   "Just keep your nose out of trouble, Carlos. And pass the word along to your old man."

   Carlos recognized a clumsy attempt at saving face and decided it was best to let it go at that. He let the detective out without another word and returned to the bedroom to comfort his frightened girlfriend.

********

   After Dobey returned to his office, Quintero buried his head in a pile of reports without further comment. Starsky went down to the computer lab to try and locate the file of the prostitute he had encountered outside of Martinez's cigar shop. Hutch was finishing some paper work on a robbery case that would probably call for his testimony in court. As he threaded a sheet of paper into the typewriter, he watched Quintero furiously sorting through a sheaf of forms. Roberto "Bobby" Quintero had been promoted to the rank of detective about six months ago and paired with Perelli. The older detective had been assigned several new detectives since his former partner of many years had been killed in the line of duty. Hutch didn't know much about the younger detective; he was a quiet man, but he was eager to learn from his colleagues and had proven himself dependable in a few hairy cases in the last few months. He and Perelli were night and day, though, and Hutch wondered just how the pair operated. Bobby had tried to cover for his partner but he sure appeared to be uptight about the situation.

   "So what's your partner really up to, Quintero?" Hutch had asked more as playful banter than anything else. But that was not the way it was received.

   "Don't you have some misguided police operation to plan?" asked Quintero, the anger rising in his voice.

   "If I thought my partner was in trouble, I'd plan another one in a heartbeat, you're damn right about that," answered Hutch, clearly peeved.

   "Look," said Quintero, "I didn't mean to get on your case."

   "No sweat. I didn't mean anything about Perelli. I'll admit that he pisses me off, so I don't mind giving him grief. The man's got an impressive arrest record, though. There's no denying that."

   "Yeah," said the younger detective, but he appeared distracted. Hutch decided to let the matter drop, but he wondered what was eating Quintero and if it had anything to do with Perelli.

   When Starsky returned he produced a fairly extensive rap sheet on a woman identified as Ellen Taylor, with an alias of Liv. Most of the arrests were for prostitution. There was also an indication that she had attended a drug rehabilitation program as part of a reduced sentence for possession of marijuana. Hutch glanced over the file quickly, but there was nothing striking about it. "So now we have a name. Now what?"

   "There have been no arrests for the past eighteen months," said Starsky.

   "So," said Hutch. "Maybe she's cleaning up her act."

   "Not judging from her wardrobe last night."

   "Then she's being more discreet. Maybe she's got a private list of clients; no need to work the street."

   "Or maybe someone's making sure a blind eye gets turned." Starsky scanned the names of the arresting officers, but nothing added up.

   Hutch thought for a moment and then took the file from his partner's hands. Hutch scanned it with his finger. There were several different arresting officers, but the last three arrests had been made by Det. Perelli and that is where the blond's finger rested. He looked up at Starsky and then quickly over to Quintero. Starsky figured Hutch didn't want him to say anything about it aloud, but he didn't know why.

   "I need some candy," said Hutch suddenly, digging in his pocket for some change. "Seems I'm short, you'd better come along so you can give it a good belt."

   "It's nice to be recognized for my unique talents," quipped Starsky as they went into the hall. Once by the machine, Starsky successfully retrieved a Mars bar and began munching on it.

   "That's supposed to be for me."

   "I can't remember when you've been less subtle about needing some privacy. Good thing Quintero doesn't know about your eating habits. Now why are we standing out here?"

   "According to the file, Perelli made the last three arrests of this Liv woman."

   "So we ask him about her whenever he shows up. What's the big deal?"

   "Probably nothing. It's just that I tried kidding with Quintero about his partner's absence this morning and he acted awfully defensive."

   "If you were paired with Perelli, you'd be defensive too. Nick likes to bend the rules a little to get the job done."

   "Well, so do we."

   "Yeah, but with us, the left hand knows what the right hand is doing. With twenty years on the force, I bet Perelli takes charge and lets Quintero do mop-up operations."

   "How can people work like that?"

   "For as long as I've known him Perelli's always been a loner, with or without a partner. I think he was fairly close to Deitz, though," he said after a pause.

   "That must have affected him somehow."

   "You got that right. That's probably why he agreed to act as a mentor of sorts to the younger detectives. Quintero will most likely get another assignment soon, and Perelli will help train some other detective. Makes more sense than two rookies learning the ropes together.

   "Isn't that what we did?"

   "Yeah, but we had the instincts to carry us through," Starsky said smiling. "That's my theory, anyway. Now how about getting back inside before they start spreading rumors about us?"

   Once back in the squad room, Starsky and Hutch returned to their paperwork. Perelli showed up soon after. Quintero eyed him nervously. "Dobey is waiting for us," he said.

   "Sounds like my lucky day. Let's not keep the man waiting," he said with false cheer.

   After they were in Dobey's office, Hutch turned to look at Starsky. "What do you think?"

   "I think I'll ask him about Liv when he gets out and be done with it. I kinda think we're grabbing at straws, Hutch."

********

   Dr. Cooper opened the door to his office and found Streeter there eying the diplomas on the wall. He realized he must have jumped a foot, but he tried to remain calm. "You said you'd be back on Friday. It's not been a week yet."

   "Well, dere's a fine how d'ya do."

   "What's going on? I know you didn't come here to check out my credentials."

   "No, though I sure as hell wouldn't want a shrink wit' a gambling problem messin' wit' my head."

   "What do you want, Streeter?"

   "I've come to check on my investment."

   Dr. Cooper hesitated and then went to his filing cabinet to retrieve a folder. "I have a proposition to make to Mr. Perelli. I think he'll find it very attractive."

   "Yeah, what's dat?"

   "I want to discuss it with Mr. Perelli. It is a delicate matter."

   "Dat your polite was of saying you doan trust me? You tell me and I'll tell Perelli."

   Just then the phone rang. After a few moments the doctor responded. "Yes, all right, I'll be there shortly." Dr. Cooper returned his gaze to Streeter, feeling pulled in two directions at once. "Okay, have a seat and let me explain."

   "I'm all ears."

   "I have a patient in my care that's very disturbed."

   "What's dat got to do wit' anything?"

   "She's a woman with no relatives and a lot of money."

   "And... "

   "And I hold the purse strings. If anything were to happen to this patient, I would come in to a fair sum."

   Streeter burst out laughing. "So what's da plan, Doc, you gonna knock her off yourself?"

   "Dammit, lower your voice!"

   Streeter suddenly became serious. "Let's get to the punch line of this thing."

   "I'm not going to do anything, but leave an avenue of escape. I'm working to focus her repressed anger towards an old boyfriend -- a cop."

   "So she goes after the guy and gets herself arrested. What does that solve?"

   "She's not going to get taken in. Not if I continue my present line of therapy. I've had quite a breakthrough. Suffice it to say, she'll fight to the death. And if she kills the cop along the way, the police will be far more willing to use deadly force."

   "Sounds like another gamble to me. Who's da poor bastard who got himself hooked up wit' her?"

   "He's a detective named Kenneth Hutchinson."

   "You're joking me!"

   "I'm hardly in a position to be joking."

   "Oh, Doc, we may just have hit paydirt here. Give me a minute to t'ink." Streeter began pacing the office, the wheels turning.

   "Well, what are you thinking?"

   "For one t'ing, your handling fee just went up. Burning a cop is a liability."

   Dr. Cooper didn't know what to make of the situation. It was as if Streeter were having difficulty hiding his pleasure over some great fortune. "Well, yes. I figured if you could arrange to make Detective Hutchinson accessible, I'd be appreciative."

   "Make him accessible? Dat's a great euphemism, Doc. I gotta remember that one. I'd say an extra ten grand would ensure his being accessible."

   Dr. Cooper hesitated only briefly. "Yes, but I want Perelli taking charge of this one personally."

   "Doc, outta da goodness of my heart, I'm gonna overlook da implication that you find my hands less than capable. Don't you worry, I'm giving this one to Perelli on a silver platter." With that he departed, leaving the doctor with the distinct feeling he'd taken a path of no return.

********

   Starsky hoped for a way to approach Perelli privately to ask him about Liv. He could kill Hutch for filling him with suspicions he wouldn't have drawn on his own. He hoped he could sound convincingly casual. Later that day he got his chance when both men met in the restroom. Starsky thought it was a hell of a spot, but it seemed like his only possibility of the day.

   "Hey, Nick, you remember busting a prostitute by the name of Liv?" He figured straight to the point was the way to go.

   His recovery was swift, but Starsky noted that Perelli seemed visibly shaken by the question. Starsky's curiosity was piqued.

   "Yeah, what about her?"

   "Well, Hutch and I got a tip about some action at a place downtown. She was there in a compromising position."

   "So you picked her up for hooking?"

   "No, she wasn't hooking."

   Perelli finished drying his hands and turned to Starsky. "If you got a point, I sure wish you'd make it."

   "Okay. You arrested her a number of times and then the arrests stopped. It seemed... I don't know... a little inconsistent."

   Starsky watched a play of emotions cross Perelli's face. For his part, Perelli was wondering what route to take next. He could give an explanation that may or may not satisfy Starsky. Liv was a tough lady but Nick wasn't sure she wouldn't let something slip if interrogated. He decided to take a gamble. He walked to the bathroom door and locked it from the inside.

   "If you're gonna beat me up, this probably ain't the best place."

   "Listen to me, Starsky." Perelli figured supplicating was not his strong point, so he kept a gruff enough demeanor to keep the act believable. "I know you ain't ever been married. Take it from me, it's a fine institution. But when you're trying to make two alimony payments on a cop's salary, it can start to sour you on the idea of the gentler sex."

   Starsky was trying to piece this one together, but he wasn't quite getting it.

   "Yeah, I've let Liv slide a bit." He bit his lip and continued. "She's good company, Starsky. I'm not in the habit of reforming people, but I figure when she's with me at least she ain't being exposed to the scum on the street."

   Perelli saw the slight shock on Starsky's face and secretly congratulated himself for following his gut on this one.

   "I got no plans to marry the broad," he said and then with determination softened his tone. "But a man does get lonely."

   Starsky nodded wordlessly.

   "This is just between us, right Starsky?"

   "Sure, Nick."

   Perelli walked to the door and unlocked it. Then he turned back. "It's not like Huggy to start dropping a dime on the local streetwalkers." He seemed to be waiting for some type of response, but when Starsky offered none, he left. Starsky waited another moment and then headed back to the squad room.

********

   Perelli walked downstairs to make a call on a private line. An idea was brewing in his mind that he was hoping to either confront or put to rest. He knew that Huggy was the main snitch for Starsky and Hutchinson. But he also knew that Starsky had been known to use that bum called Mickey. The fact that Streeter considered him such an authority in these parts was beginning to rankle. He didn't like the uneasy coincidence. Streeter answered the call on the first ring.

   "We need to talk," said Perelli. "You've got some explaining to do."

   "How about O'Malley's in fifteen minutes?"

   "You seem awfully eager."

   Streeter responded forgetting the ban on his Cajun accent. "Cher, when you hear da news I got for you, you're gonna t'ink Christmas done come in August."

   Perelli hung up the phone. That snake Russo was certainly sending him a message with this fool. But he had enough on his hands without worrying about what the New Orleans crime bosses had in store. Perelli looked at his watch and made a number of decisions in rapid succession. He had two hours until he and his partner were due at a briefing with Dobey about some operation in the warehouse district. If he simply went through the motions of what he had to do, he could make it.

********

   "Say it again, Diana. Say it like you mean it."

   "I hate him."

   "Again."

   "I HATE HIM!"

   "And why do you hate him, Diana?"

   "Because he hurt me."

   "WHY?"

   "HE HURT ME!"

   "Now look at the photograph. I want you to say it directly to him, Diana. Let him know how you feel."

   Diana tore the photograph from the doctor's hands and glared at it. "I hate you, Ken Hutchinson! Do you hear me? I HATE YOU!"

   Dr. Cooper nodded in approval.

********

   The first thing Perelli did was to head to the locker room. He stood around a few minutes, finding it necessary to "shoot the shit" with a couple of guys who were just coming on shift. The detective could feel the sweat rising on the back of his neck. Damn, he wished they'd hurry. He was barely listening to his own mindless banter. As soon as the cops had left the room, Perelli reached into his locker and pulled forward a false back panel. He secured a silencer for his weapon, and quickly put the locker back in order. He saw Anderson in the hall and asked him to pass on the message to Quintero that he was checking on some leads they had discussed earlier. Then he dashed out the door and got into his Mustang.

   Perelli parked behind O'Malley's and went in the back door. He was vaguely conscious of the smell from the urinal that seemed magnified. He opened the door to the bar slightly and saw Streeter sitting at their usual table. Perelli had to resist an urge to strangle him right then and there. "Hey," he called to the seated man. "Meet me out back." Then Perelli headed back to the Mustang.

   Streeter was right behind him. "I always wanted to take a ride in that cool car of yours."

   "Just get in," grumbled Perelli. Somehow small talk seemed oddly obscene in light of what the detective felt to be the inevitable. "I know that you gave Mickey information about Liv's delivery at Martinez's place. Now I want to know why."

   "That was insurance."

   "Getting two detectives on my ass is your idea of insurance!"

   "Perelli, just calm down. And listen to what I've got to tell you. This is going to solve all our problems." Streeter proceeded to tell the detective about Dr. Cooper's plan to repay his debt to Perelli with a handsome profit. He also invented a tale about coaxing the idea out of Cooper with a fair amount of skill and finesse. Perelli was thinking about was how he hoped Streeter was enjoying the story that would prove to be his last, but he had to admit there was a strange irony to the tale. Maybe there was a way to salvage the situation. Streeter ended with lamenting the fate of "that sick chick's boyfriend." "Poor Hutchinson, now there's a poor bastard with no taste in woman!" Perelli looked at his watch. He made some adjustments to his mental list of things to do. It had just grown by two.

   "That's all well and good. But did you ever stop to think that if you hadn't opened your big trap to a drunken bum, this wouldn't be necessary?"

   "Perelli, come on. I did you a favor. Cooper had no way of paying the vig, let alone the debt. What were you going to do? Break his legs? What would that have proven? And what if he turned on you? The word of a doctor would be taken a bit more seriously than the rest of your clients. Ever think of that?"

   Inwardly, Perelli was thinking of how he couldn't wait to burn this liability. Outwardly, he feigned interest in Streeter's unfolding plan for kidnapping Detective Hutchinson. He drove steadily toward the pier.

   Streeter seemed unaware of the fact that the Mustang had left the main road and traveled down a restricted service road under a bridge. He noticed his surroundings only when the car had stopped. "What are we doing here?" he asked.

   "I gotta get out and think."

   The next few moments were a blur to Perelli. He was vaguely aware that Streeter had followed him to the water's edge and stood a few feet behind him, but he did not turn to face the man. He simply attached the silencer to his gun as Streeter marveled once again at their mutual good fortune. Almost as an afterthought, Perelli spun around and grabbed Streeter's arm, pulling him forward and simultaneously shooting him through the back of the head. He dumped the body into the fast moving current and returned to the car without looking back.

   Perelli then drove in a haze to Cabrillo State Hospital. In a calm manner that Dr. Cooper found most unsettling, the detective informed him that Streeter was no longer with the operation. Continuing in a businesslike fashion, Perelli asked to see the files on Diana Harmon. He was particularly interested in the carefully fabricated session notes. After studying the records for some time in silence, Perelli had one important question. "Is she prepared to put a bullet in a cop's brain?"

   Dr. Cooper flinched at the question.

   "Don't waste my time, Dr. Cooper. Answer the question."

   "Yes, she's capable of such an action. I'd venture to say she's most impatient for the opportunity."

   "Good. Now understand two things. First of all, she ain't gonna kill a cop. The desire is enough. And second, you're coming along for the ride."

   "I can't leave the hospital!"

   "You can and you will. I don't need this broad having a relapse. You are going to make sure that doesn't happen. In three days' time you arrange for this Harmon woman to wander away from the grounds just after midnight. When you report her missing, you ask for Detective Quintero to file a report." He flipped one of his partner's business cards on the desk. "There are a lot of these things floating around. You just happened to have one in the office. You with me so far?"

   "Yes."

   "Then you stay where I can reach you. You let me figure out the details. Got it?"

   "I guess so. There are a few details to work out. I have to see who's on the roster for that night and arrange --"

   "Then I take it we're agreed?"

   The doctor fell silent for a moment. "Yes," he said.

   Perelli left the hospital and glanced at his watch. One phone call to make and he could get back to the station for the briefing at one. He stopped a few blocks from the hospital at a payphone to call Liv. When she answered the phone, he took a deep breath and began.

   "Don't talk, just listen. I want you to get in touch with the Mahoney boys. Liv, just hear me out. I don't want you going anywhere near the crazy sons of bitches. You just contact them and tell 'em to meet me at 10 o'clock tonight behind O'Malley's. Tell them I've got a job they're really going to enjoy."

PART THREE