Sinjin

   When the detectives arrived at the station, Starsky headed for the coffee machine and started to fill a thermos with the contents of two pots.

   "Hey, Starsky, you gonna leave any for the rest of us poor slobs working the night shift?"

   "By the looks of this thirty weight oil, I’m doing you a favor."

   Just then Dobey burst out of his office. "Starsky! Get in here!" Hutch tried to bury himself in non-existent paperwork. "And you too, Hutchinson!"

   "Okay," said Hutchinson under his breath, as if mentally steeling himself for the tirade to come.

   As soon as the door closed behind the detectives, the Captain started in. "Starsky, I thought we’d been through this," he said, picking up a file from a rather large stack on his desk.

   "Cap’n, Hutch and I were dead tired last night."

   "Then why is it that Hutchinson’s report followed regulations and yours ain’t worth the paper it’s printed on?" said Dobey, his voice rising.

   "Cap’n —"

   Dobey raised his hand to silence the detective and began to read: "11 PM: Still waiting for the sleazeballs that ain’t showing ... 12 AM: Gypsy cab driver mouthing off to fare; the passenger’s got nothing less than a ten spot... 12:30 AM: Blondie’s droning on again with some psychobabble —"

   "Cap’n, that’s not my report!" Starsky protested.

   "You turned it in as one! I’d like an explanation."

   "Yeah, me too," interjected Hutch. "Didn’t know I was ‘droning on’ and boring you to death."

   Dobey turned to Hutch. "You keep out of this."

   When Dobey looked back at Starsky he had a rather sheepish look, as if an idea were just now dawning on him.

   "Well?"

   "Cap’n, those are my notes. I musta turned ‘em in by accident."

   "Well, you’ve got fifteen minutes before your meeting with Lt. Miller. I suggest you get out of here and get busy."

   The detectives returned to the squad room. Starsky threaded a form into the typewriter and tried to get his creative juices flowing. "Listen, while I’m working on this masterpiece, could you give Merle a call? I ain’t heard from him, and the Torino should be ready by now."

   "If you’re sure I won’t start droning on needlessly."

   "Aw, cut me a break, Hutch. I didn’t mean it like it sounded. It was late; I was tired."

   "Yeah, yeah. What’s the number?"

********

   "What the hell kind of pimpmobile is this?"

   "Joey, just shut up and get in!"

   The younger man slid into the passenger side of the Cadillac. "Whaddaya trying to do, ruin my reputation? Where are we going anyway?"

   "Mr. Foley wants to meet with us," answered Tom.

   "Oh, the big man himself. Does that mean we are finally gonna see some action?"

   "I have every reason to believe we’ll be seeing some action very soon, Joey."

   The two men rode a few minutes in silence.

   "I don’t see why we couldn’t take my Buick."

   "Joey, your car will be fine for when we’re working, but it’s not quite up to par for deal making."

   "Well, la dee da! I didn’t realize we was going to some fancy-schmancy joint."

   "We are meeting Mr. Foley at his estate... And Joey... I think it would be better for all concerned if you let me do the talking."

   "Yeah, sure, smart man. I’d hate to embarrass you in front of the boss." He sat back in his seat, silently stewing.

********

   Hutch looked at his watch. "Looks like we’ve got a few minutes. You got a handle on that thing, don’t you?"

   "Piece a cake," said Starsky bent over the typewriter.

   "Good. Well, I’ll see you in a few minutes."

   "Give my regards to the Property Room," said Starsky without looking up, but with a smile spreading across his face. "And to Officer Delaney."

   "Yeah," said Hutch quickly as he headed for the door of the squad room.

   "Ah, infatuation, a beautiful thing," said Starsky to no one in particular. He laughed to think that Hutch was trying to be so discreet about his interest in a certain brunette who had been recently transferred to Division, but that he was fooling no one.

********

   When Joey and Tom arrived at the Foley mansion, they were frisked by security and told to wait in the lobby.

   "Nice set of rent-a-cops," whispered Joey.

   "Shhhh," said Tom.

   A minute later a well-dressed man appeared in the lobby. "Mr. Foley is in the viewing room. He’d like you both to join him there." With that he led the men to a small projection room. Joey and Tom struggled to adjust their eyes to the darkness and find their way to seats near Mr. Foley. During the conversation that ensued Foley’s eyes never left the screen.

   "Hello, gentlemen. Thank you for coming."

   "Yes, Mr. Foley. We are very anxious to carry out this matter."

   "Tonight would be as good a time as any. Yancey and his sidekick have been moving some weapons for me. They have based their operations at the Algonquin Hotel at my request."

   For a few moments only the sound of the film filled the air. Joey turned to it wide-eyed as he realized what was taking place on the screen.

   "Is there a problem, Tom?"

   "No, Mr. Foley. I just didn’t realize that you were..." He paused for a moment, at a loss for words.

   "You didn’t realize that I had dealings with these men. Tom, let me give you some advice. It’s always good practice to know your enemies. Hell, schmooz ‘em a little if you can. They had the contacts to move some hardware, so why not take advantage?" Foley began to chuckle. "In fact, if you’re a man who appreciates irony, you’ll like the fact that you’ll be using one of Yancey’s hand delivered silencers to do the job."

   A few more details were discussed, most of which were lost on Joey. He was engrossed in the movie. It wasn’t until they were back in Tom’s Cadillac that he ventured to speak.

   "Did you see what that was, man?"

   "Yes, Joey. It’s called a snuff film."

   "You mean they got a name for that shit?"

   "All people have... interests, Joey." Tom tried to sound nonchalant but even he knew he had stumbled on the word.

   "Interests? That dude is sick, man. He’s a stinking looney!"

   "It has nothing to do with our deal."

   "I ain’t working for no sicko, man. I got ethics, ya know."

   "Joey, it’s a little late to back out now. Just do what you’re told and you’ll get your money."

********

   When Starsky and Hutch walked into Miller’s office, they found the Lieutenant embroiled in a heated conversation on the phone. They waited patiently for the diatribe to end. When it did, Lt. Miller quickly regained his composure and an almost cheerful air. The transformation was a bit disquieting for both detectives.

   "Glad to see you’re both game for another night."

   "Could you give us some idea of what we’re looking for?" asked Starsky.

   "Like I told you last night, we’ve got some new dealers in town. Semi-automatic weapons for certain. Maybe heavier artillery."

   "Who’s been supplying you with this information?"

   "Detective Starsky, you know how this game is played. You protect your informants; I protect mine."

   "Lieutenant, I don’t think —"

   "Lieutenant, what my partner is trying to say," ventured Hutch, "is that we would feel more equipped to be effective if we were all on the same page as far as information is concerned."

   "Detective Hutchinson, I understand your concern. But as I was trying to explain to your partner here, I have to protect my sources. You know that I would never put men on the street without feeling confident that I was acting on reliable data."

   Once they were outside Miller’s office, Hutch turned to his partner. "Do you have an uneasy feeling about this?"

   "I get the feeling there’s more to the story. Know what I mean?"

   "Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s me and thee time again."

********

   As the detectives made their way to the Algonquin Hotel, Hutch was trying to put his finger on exactly what part of this operation did not sit well with him. Starsky’s voice broke into his thoughts.

   "Merle said tomorrow for sure, right?"

   "Yeah, Starsk. He expected the tires today, but he said that they’d definitely be on the truck by noon tomorrow."

   "Thank God."

   "Well, I could let you out to walk the rest of the —"

   "Hey, Hutch, you’re passing it!"

   "We’re not at the hotel yet."

   "Not the hotel, my favorite burrito stand!"

   "Good Lord."

   "Come on, Hutch. I need my strength."

   Hutch reluctantly pulled the car over and watched his partner’s eyes light up like a kid in a candy store.

   "Want anything?"

   "What do you think?"

   "You don’t know what you’re missing."

   In a few moments Starsky returned with his booty — three burritos with the works.

   "You had to get them with extra onions, didn’t you?" said Hutch as he maneuvered the LTD back into traffic.

   "That’s the only way to eat them," replied Starsky, after which he took a big bite as if to prove the point. "So when are you gonna ask her out?"

   "Starsky, don’t talk with your mouth full," moaned Hutch "Ask who out?"

   Starsky took a few moments to chew. "Officer Lauren Delaney."

   "When the time is right."

   "So when’s that gonna be?"

   Hutch sighed. "There’s a way to do it properly, Starsk. You don’t just rush in. You talk to a woman first. You find out what she likes, what she doesn’t like. You size up the situation; find the right time to make your move."

   "Ya lookin’ to ask her out or ambush her?"

   "It’s called finesse, Starsky, finesse. And if you’d ever give it a try, you’d know what I mean."

   "Sheesh. Sounds like a lotta shoulda coulda woulda to me. I think I’ll stick to my own methods."

   Hutch pulled the car up to the curb at a respectable distance from the hotel. Starsky was quiet for a moment. "Did you figure out what’s not right about this?"

   Hutch turned to his partner whose face had turned very serious. "Not exactly. Just something about Miller doesn’t add up. He’s too... slick. He’ll be boiling mad one minute and then do a total one-eighty the next. It’s not natural."

   "Well, I know exactly what’s bothering me. We’re parked out here like a couple of sitting ducks. All we can do is jot down what we see. We’re not even authorized to make any arrests. If something does go down, I want to be able to make a move. Miller wants us to believe that his informant gave him information about gun-running but no names of the players?"

   "Yeah, and he doesn’t want us to see the reports from the other detectives assigned to this stakeout."

   "Exactly. I mean, what’s with that?"

   "Miller said he wanted objective reports to make a stronger case for the DA," ventured Hutch.

   "Well, I ain’t buying that. It doesn’t make any sense."

   "So what do you want to do about it?"

   "I’ll tell you one thing. We ain’t just gonna sit here if we should see something."

   "Dobey’ll have a fit."

   "Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it."

********

   Around 9 PM Tom and Joey were headed to the Algonquin Hotel. They were now in Joey’s Buick Skylark.

   "Pull over here, Joey."

   "We’re nearly two blocks away."

   "You can see the place from here. Pull over."

   Joey sighed but did as he was told. "I hope you ain’t planning for us to hump it two blocks once we take these goombahs out. I want this car close to the exit."

   "We’ll move in closer later, Joey. I want to watch the place from a safe distance first. Get a feel for it."

   "I’ll tell you, man, this Mr. Foley ain’t wrapped too tight. I’m surprised he didn’t give us a movie camera and ask us to film it all. Why did he make a point of showing us that shit, huh? You ever think about that?"

   "Mr. Foley is a client, Joey, with a good reputation for delivering on the terms of an agreement."

   "Yeah? Well I say he probably ain’t above playing dirty pool. I mean, he’s setting up these two goombahs, Yancey and what’s his name. We could be next. You ever think of that?"

   "Hold it a minute, Joey."

   "You ain’t listening to a word I’m saying."

   "I heard you, Joey. Shut up a minute."

   Tom continued to scan the street.

   "See anything interesting?"

   "Ask me again in a half hour."

   Waiting again, thought Joey. This was a bad sign.

   "What time are we supposed to meet these guys?"

   "Ten o’clock. I set the meeting up with Yancey earlier today. Said we were interested in some snub noses."

   "Thought this was supposed to be a first rate operation. Why would they bother with some Saturday night special crap a schmo could get on the street?"

   "I know what I’m doing, Joey. It’s enough to get our foot in the door; that’s all we need."

********

   A half hour passed. "Shit," said Tom under his breath.

   "What’s the matter?"

   "I think we have some company."

   "What? Where?"

   "Relax. That LTD down there. Those two guys were sitting there thirty minutes ago."

   "You think they’re cops, man?"

   "I don’t know, Joey, but you’re going to find out."

   "Oh, that’s a good one, smart man. Whaddaya want me to do, walk up and ask ‘em?"

   "I want you to take a casual walk around the block and get the license plate. I’d go myself, but you seem more of a natural for the neighborhood."

   "Are you crazy, man? What if they’re watching us?"

   "Do it, Joey. I’ll move the car and meet you on Bleeker Street."

********

   "One of them is making a move," said Hutch. "But he isn’t going into the hotel."

   "False alarm?"

   "I guess so."

   They both watched as the Skylark backed up into an alley and headed in the opposite direction.

********

   Bill Yancey and Eddie stood in Trask’s apartment above the shop.

   "This is a rather impressive array of hardware," said Harry.

   "I can see you’ve got a fine eye," replied Yancey as he leaned over to stroke one of the barrels. As he did so, the medallion he always wore around his neck swung from his open shirt.

   "And I see you’re still wearing your trophy."

   "Yep, the Mayor of New York himself presented me with that in ‘64." Yancey looked lost in thought. "We lost quite a few men on that bridge, I can tell you. I had my full book by then from Local 40. Foreman of my own raising gang on that job."

   "And you’d be doing it still if your knees hadn’t given out, huh, Bill?" said Eddie.

   "Well, my years of connecting did take its toll. But I do miss the iron."

   "And what about you, Eddie, your knees go too?" asked Harry.

   "Hell, I stayed a boilermaker. But I had no love for working in power houses. And ‘75 was a helluva slow year to boot."

   "Well," said Harry, looking at the weapons again. "I guess a mid-career change can be good."

   "And profitable," added Yancey, offering Harry an envelope. "Two hundred as agreed."

   Harry took the envelope and smiled. "Always a pleasure, gentlemen."

   "And now if you’ll excuse us, Harry. We’ve got an appointment in half an hour."

********

   Joey heard Tom starting up the Skylark as he rounded the block and prepared to double back. Once behind the hotel he jogged a few blocks, crossed the street, and started making his way back to the car in question. When the LTD was in sight, he slowed his walk, shoved his hands in his pockets, and tried to disappear into the growing evening crowd. He stopped a few times to look in store fronts and appear nonchalant but inside his heart was pounding.

********

   "I see business is picking up on the block," said Hutch with an edge in his voice. There were several young women cruising the streets and what appeared to be some frat boys becoming increasingly drunk and summoning courage to approach one of them.

   "Really," replied his partner. "I can see half a dozen potential arrests from this seat alone. In fact, catch that guy on the corner, the way he’s looking around. Yep, he’s seen something. There he goes... there’s his mark... and bingo!" It was subtle enough, too subtle for the untrained eye, but two individuals had definitely made an exchange.

   "This is ridiculous!" said Hutch.

   "You’re telling me. There should be another squad watching the back entrance of the hotel. The area ain’t even secure."

   "I’m not talking about the stakeout, I’m talking about this." Hutch made a sweeping gesture with his hand to encompass the street. "What are we doing here?"

   "Hey, our job tonight is not to run in the hookers and the two-bit drug dealers," said Starsky. "Supposedly we’ve got bigger fish to fry," he added with a sarcastic laugh. He glanced at his partner and saw the look that indicated Blondie was silently stewing. "Hey, Hutch," said the brunet softening his tone, "you know as well as I do they’d all be out in the morning even if we did run ‘em in."

   "Don’t I damn well know it!"

   "Hey, don’t get on my case. I didn’t make the rules."

   "I know, Starsk," said Hutch rubbing his forehead. "It’s just... nothing ever changes. It doesn’t make a difference what we do."

   "That ain’t true and you know it. We do make a difference. We just can’t change the world. You can’t take it all to heart, Hutch; it’ll just tear you up. Know what I mean?"

   "Yeah, I hear you," Hutch sighed.

   Starsky patted his partner on the shoulder. Affecting his best Dirty Harry voice he added, "A man’s got to know his limitations."

   Hutch rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help laughing. "Hey, if we start playing that game again, I don’t want to hear any complaints about nightmares."

********

   Joey was just about to move closer to the car when an old drunk brushed passed him and headed straight for the LTD. Joey backed into a doorway to await another opportunity. He padded his jacket until he found a packet of cigarettes. He lit one up and attempted his best disinterested look.

********

   Hutch noticed the old man out of the corner of his eye. When he looked over to the driver’s side window, the man was right beside it, weaving back and forth. He soon produced a ragged piece of newspaper and started to wipe the windshield with it. Hutch rolled down the window. "No thanks, buddy. Do me a favor and get away from the car, okay?"

   But the man paid no heed and continued to drag the newspaper back and forth.

   "Come on, man, I said get away from the car!"

   "I don’t think he’s paying attention, Hutch."

   "No shit."

   Hutch leaned out of the car again to speak. Starsky grabbed his arm and pulled him back in. "Let me handle this, will ya?" Joey was just about to take advantage of the diversion when he saw the curly-headed man in the passenger seat get out. He ducked back into the doorway. "Hey, old man. Do me a favor, huh? My friend here is sort of particular about his wheels. You’re making him nervous."

   "Ise don’t mean no disssrespect, Mister," the man slurred. "But I don’ believe thisss here car could be particular to nobody."

   "Yeah, I’ve been telling him that for years, but he just won’t listen," said Starsky with a grin, gently taking the old man’s arm and leading him to the sidewalk.

   "Ise juss tryin’ to help," said the man, starting to cry.

   "I know," said Starsky. "You got a place to stay?"

   "Yeah, I was headin’ to the mission. But when I see somethin’ so dirty, I juss gotta clean it up, ya know?"

   "Yeah, I understand. But you let me take care of it, okay?"

   "Okay."

   Starsky stuck a bill in the man’s pocket. The old man gave a tearful wave of acknowledgment and headed down the street.

   When Starsky got back in the car, Hutch was smiling at him.

   "Sometimes it’s in the small gestures, Hutch. And it does make a difference."

********

   Joey checked his watch. 9:45. Damn, he had to do this soon. Between where he was standing in the doorway and the LTD there were two prostitutes. He tried to get their attention. The older woman saw him but did not respond. She did pat the younger one on the shoulder and nodded in Joey’s direction. Well, that’s just great, thought Joey. Coupla bitches, who do they think they are?

   The younger one approached Joey. "Something on your mind tonight, honey?"

   "I need you to do me a favor."

   "I don’t do nothing kinky, Mister."

   "It ain’t kinky. Come here."

   The woman slowly moved closer and peered at Joey suspiciously. One of her false eyelashes was beginning to come loose.

   "I want you to walk over to that car there and tell me the license plate number."

   "That brown one?"

   "Yeah, that’s the one. Think you can handle that?"

   "What do I get?"

   "I’ll give you ten bucks, but you gotta hurry up!"

   "Hey, nobody rushes me!"

   "For God’s sake, keep your voice down," hissed Joey. "Why do you broads gotta complicate everything?"

   "Make it fifteen and we got a deal."

   "Fine. Go."

   The woman walked back to her friend and chatted for a moment. Then she returned to Joey.

   "Well?"

   "The money first, baby."

   Joey fumbled with his wallet and fished out fifteen bucks. He found a pen and gave the girl the package of cigarettes to write on. What he didn’t realize until this moment was that the older woman was trying to solicit the men in the LTD. He began to panic.

   "Come on, come on, write it down already!"

   "I’ll have to go back; I can’t remember if it ended in a three or an eight."

   She turned to go and Joey lunged after her. "NO!"

   "Let go of me, you pervert!"

   The other woman started to scream fearing her friend was in trouble. The detectives jumped out of the Torino when they heard the commotion. Hutch turned in time to see Joey seize the girl’s arm.

   Joey grabbed the cigarette package and took off at a dead run. Starsky and Hutch were right behind him. Joey began knocking people to the ground and hurling trash cans in his wake. More people began to scream and run in all directions. The detectives had a difficult time avoiding all the obstacles and keeping the running man in sight. Hutch took the lead, hearing his partner’s footsteps right behind him. Joey and Hutch had just cleared the entrance to a tavern when two drunken bikers stepped out. Starsky had the unfortunate luck to plow right into them both.

   Somehow the two burly men remained standing. "Hey, man, you got a problem?" one of them said to Starsky.

   "No problem," said Starsky, watching Hutch’s figure run farther down the block.

   "I don’t like your attitude," said the other one and without warning punched Starsky full in the face. The man was already unsteady on his feet and the momentum of his own blow caused him to fall on top of the detective.

   Starsky was stunned for a moment, but he managed to extricate himself from the weight on top of him. He grabbed his ID. "Look you two bozos, I’m a —" But before he could get the words out, the other one grabbed the detective and shoved him against the tavern. Starsky’s head hit the window which shattered in an explosion of glass. Starsky reeled a few steps and brought his hand up to the gash on his head. He tried to get his bearings as he watched the bikers stumbling over to their motorcycles, but everything was spinning so crazily he could hardly keep upright.

********

   Hutch realized that Starsky was no longer behind him. He turned to see the bikers ganging up on his partner and made a split second decision to let the man he was chasing go. If it were one on one, he would probably have let Starsky handle it, but it hardly seemed as if these odds were fair. Hutch reached the tavern just as the men were climbing onto their bikes. "HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, TURKEYS!" he yelled, drawing his magnum. The men looked at each other. "POLICE! GET OFF THE BIKES, NOW!" The men did as they were told and Hutch quickly cuffed them. He turned to find his partner.

   "Starsky? Are you okay?"

   "Never better," answered Starsky, trying to steady himself against the wall.

   "I’ll be right back."

   "Guess that means our cover is all shot to shit," mumbled Starsky. That damn spinning was making him nauseous.

   Hutch ran to the car to call for backup. As he turned from the car to head back to his partner, he watched with alarm as Starsky’s knees buckled and he fell into a heap on the sidewalk.

********

   Joey was completely out of breath when he reached the Buick. Sirens were audible in the background.

   "What the hell happened?" demanded Tom.

   "Never mind that. Let’s just get the hell out of here!"

   "Did you get the number, Joey?"

   "Yes, I got the damn number! NOW LET’S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

   Tom pressed on the accelerator, barely missing a black and white that was racing to the scene.

********

   Hutch ran to his partner’s side. Taking Starsky by the shoulders, the blond lifted the slumped form and cradled him in his arms. It was then that he saw the sizable gash on Starsky’s head and the beginnings of a swollen eye. "Damn!" said Hutch. He looked behind him and saw a couple of uniformed officers hustling the bikers to a squad car. Just then a large man came out of the tavern. He was wearing torn jeans and a Harley Davidson t-shirt that showed off his imposing muscles and tattoos.

   "Hey," he called to Hutch. "Somebody’s gotta pay for this window!"

   Hutch looked up and all he noticed was what the man was wearing around his neck. "Give me that bandana!"

   The man hesitated.

   "I said give me that bandana, turkey! Don’t make me ask again!"

   The man removed it and gave it to the blond. Hutch pressed it to the side of Starsky’s head. As he did so the brunet flinched.

   "Starsky? Hey, buddy, can you hear me?"

   Starsky slowly opened his eyes, but they remained unfocused. Hutch looked at his partner worriedly. "Hey, babe, come on, look at me."

   Very slowly Starsky became aware of his surroundings. He looked at his partner. "Hey," he croaked.

   "Hey, yourself. What the hell happened?"

   Starsky looked over to where the bikers were being loaded into the squad car. "I coulda taken them both, just a little off on my timing... Oh, my head."

   "For heaven’s sake, Starsky."

   "It’s okay, Blondie, I’m gonna live."

   "Well, I’m taking you to the hospital. This is going to take some stitches for sure."

   "Oh, God, do we havta go there?"

   "Hey, if you don’t cooperate, I’ll call an ambulance and make a real fuss."

   "Okay, okay."

   "You think you can stand?"

   "Sure."

   Hutch helped his partner to his feet. He brought Starsky’s hand up to the gash. "Keep pressure on that." Seeing the brunet was still unsteady on his feet, Hutch put his arm around his partner for support. "Think you can make it to the car?"

   "No problem."

   "Damn, Starsky, I wish you’d stop saying that."

   As they turned to head towards the LTD, the man who had lost his bandana stepped up to the detectives. "Somebody’s gotta pay for this window!"

   "Anderson! Hutch called to one of the uniformed officers. "Take this gentleman’s statement, please."

   "The man immediately started complaining to Officer Anderson. "Hey, man, I’m watching the place for the owner while he’s away. How am I supposed to explain this?"

   "Let’s start with your name."

   "Bubba O’Reilly. I’m the bouncer here."

   "Bubba, huh?"

   "That’s right."

   That figures, thought Anderson.

   Hutch helped Starsky into the passenger’s side of the LTD and then dashed around to the driver’s side. He put the gumball on the roof to disperse the crowd that had been steadily building in the wake of all the excitement and roared down the street.

   "Jesus, Hutch, do ya gotta make all that noise? My head is killin’ me."

   "I’d just like to cut down on the commuting time."

   "I didn’t know the old rat-trap could even go this fast," mumbled Starsky. The dizziness was returning so he closed his eyes to make it stop.

   "Hey, just think, the old striped tomato is gonna be ready tomorrow. That should cheer you up, huh?"

   There was no response from Starsky. "Hey, Starsk?" Hutch looked over to his partner and saw that his head was slumped again the seat. Hutch kept one hand on the wheel as he shook Starsky’s shoulder with the other one. "Come on, Starsky, don’t go to sleep on me now. Wake up!" Hutch saw that they were only a few blocks from the hospital.

   "Starsky!"

   "Hutch, would you quit shaking me! I’m gonna be sick!"

   "Just keep talking to me, partner."

   Hutch pulled up to the entrance and ran around to the passenger’s side. He eased Starsky out of the car and helped him through the doors of the hospital. "I need some help here!" he cried.

   "Jesus, Hutch, I wish you’d stop yelling."

********

   Joey paced the floor of his hotel room while Tom finished placing a call from the room’s courtesy phone. He heard Tom reading the plate number before he hung up.

   "Don’t even tell me what he said, man. I don’t wanna know."

   "Mr. Foley is understandably upset, Joey. Now that we’ve missed one meeting with Yancey and his partner, we’ll never be able to schedule another."

   "Hey, maybe we should forget this whole thing. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get out of L.A. for a while."

   "No way, Joey. We are going to finish what we’ve started here."

   "But what about those guys in the LTD? The way they took off running after me, they’ve gotta be cops, man! And that blond one... I’m sure he saw my face."

   "Just remember, Joey, Mr. Foley has seen your face too."

   "Yeah, tell me about it." said Joey running a hand through his hair. "He’s probably casting me for a part in his next film. I think it’s safer just to get outta town. We can’t go back to the Algonquin."

   "Wouldn’t do to go back there, anyway. They probably left for good when they saw all the commotion."

   "Well, I say we should split too."

   "Mr. Foley’s going to call back in half an hour. If he’s got a way to salvage the situation, we’re damn well going to take advantage of it, Joey."

********

   Yancey and Eddie had been driving past the hotel just as the prostitutes had started screaming. Taking it as a bad omen, Yancey kept driving. Eddie worried about the missed contact, but Yancey had convinced him that the guys were no more than small time hustlers based on the guns they were interested in and told him not to sweat it.

   They returned to the hotel after midnight. The "circus geek" known as Monty was still behind the desk. His eyes darted over to the door as the men entered. Yancey approached him directly.

   "Hey, Monty, heard there was a bit of excitement here tonight."

   "Yeah, you shoulda been here."

   "Well since we wasn’t, hows about you telling us all about it."

   "Looked like some two-bit biker hoods getting busted for hassling a couple of working girls."

   Yancey turned to head upstairs.

   Monty wrestled with some inner turmoil momentarily. "There’s more to the story," he ventured nervously.

   Yancey returned. "Yeah?"

   "I... I sure could use a few bucks. Business ain’t been so good lately. And I’ve had to pay off a few inspectors."

   Yancey grabbed Monty by the collar. "Look, you creep, don’t you screw with me. If you’ve got information, you’d better spill it!"

   "Okay, okay," yelped Monty. Yancey released his hold and waited impatiently. "Well, there were some cops that were called to the scene. But there were already a couple of detectives here when it all started. I hadn’t noticed till they got out of the car. But when they started chasing some dude, I recognized them."

   "Detectives?"

   "Yeah. And from where they were parked, I get the feeling they might have been watching the hotel."

   "You know these guys?"

   "Sure. I’ve been on the receiving end of some of their interrogation tactics before."

   "Well?"

   Monty chewed his lip a moment, hoping there was a way he could finagle a few bucks out of this. Deciding that angering Yancey further was not worth the risk, he got to the point. "Their names are Starsky and Hutchinson."

********

   Hutch paced nervously in the waiting room, downing yet another cup of stale black coffee. He was finally approached by an intern.

   "How is he?"

   "Your partner is going to be fine. But since he has a mild concussion, we’d like to keep him overnight just for observation."

   Hutch breathed a sigh of relief. "Can I see him?"

   "Well, he’s sleeping right now. Your best bet would be to return in the morning."

   "Thanks, Doc."

********

   Hutch returned to the LTD a little after midnight and figured he’d better head for the station to answer for what had gone down that evening. As he climbed into the car, he shuddered a little at the blood on the passenger’s seat but reminded himself that Starsky was fine and in good hands.

   As Hutch entered the squad room, Dobey came bursting out of his office.

   "Captain, what are you doing here at this hour?"

   "As if you didn’t know. I just got a call from the Commissioner himself who told me to get down here. Apparently Lt. Miller complained to him directly that two of my finest totally screwed up his investigation!"

   "Is that what he’s saying?" yelled Hutch. "Captain, let me give you our side."

   "Hold on," said Dobey reaching for the phone. "I’m going to get Lt. Miller in here first. I want everything above board and straightened out. Where’s Starsky?"

   "He’s in the hospital."

   Dobey raised his eyebrows. "Is he all right?"

   "He’s gonna be fine, Captain. They’re keeping him overnight for observation."

   "What happened?"

   Hutch opened his mouth to speak, but Dobey raised his hand to stop him. "No, on second thought, let me get Miller."

PART THREE