Sinjin

   Starsky watched the two men as they walked towards the entrance of the Fairfax. He was afraid to get any closer to them without announcing his presence. He planned to wait until they had entered the hotel and then sprint across the street and catch up to them in the lobby. Starsky wasn’t worried about Roscoe, the manager, tipping them off and he figured they’d have few places to flee in a relatively small entranceway.

   The man with the medallion opened the door, but was stopped by the other one who grabbed his arm. There seemed to be a minor altercation developing between the two.

   "Get inside! Get the hell inside!" Starsky said under his breath as another excruciating minute passed. But they didn’t get inside. Instead the men headed a few more feet down the boulevard and climbed into a brown Chrysler. Starsky dashed back to the Torino to follow them at a discreet distance. Dobey was still yelling on the radio.

   "Starsky! What the HELL is going on over there?"

   "Cap’n, I’m following Yancey and his partner."

   "Can you make out the license plate?"

   "Yep."

   "Well, stop playing games and give it to me and your location while you’re at it!"

   "No way, Cap’n. This is mine."

   "Starsky, this is no time for going off half-cocked. I’m gonna run that plate through the system and send some uniforms to back you up."

   "Cap’n, you don’t need to run the plates. I already know who I’m chasing. And I don’t need backup."

   Sensing he was dealing with an officer on the edge of rashness, Dobey changed tactics. "Dave, we have enough circumstantial evidence to arrest. Let’s bring ‘em in and question them properly."

   "And the first thing they’ll do is get themselves some wet behind the ears public defender who won’t let us talk to them. We ain’t got time for that, Cap’n," said Starsky, his voice rising.

   "And if I’m lucky these goons just might lead me to Hutch."

   Dobey was yelling again and Starsky caught the word "insubordination" as he struggled to stay close enough to the Chrysler without being detected and far enough without getting separated at a light.

   Starsky grabbed the mike again. "Hey, Cap’n. You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you."

   "Starsky! Goddammit!"

********

   Across town Tom and Joey were heading for Joey’s Skylark. Tom reached for the passenger side door, but Joey stopped him. "Wait a minute, man."

   Joey went around to the driver’s side and popped the hood. He then peered inside, running his fingers along the hoses.

   "This is not the time for a last minute tune-up, Joey. We’ve got places to be."

   "Man, you didn’t see the last scene of that movie."

   "What movie, Joey?" asked Tom, his impatience turning to anger.

   "The Mechanic, man. With Bronson and that Vincent kid. You know, the hit men that do each other in. Well, the kid gets blown sky high in his car. Bronson plants this bomb in Vincent’s wheels. Gets revenge even though the kid poisons him."

   "Joey, I don’t want to hear another word about that damn movie. Get in the car and start driving."

   Joey sighed and closed the hood. "I’m telling ya, man. I don’t like this."

   "Foley told these guys we were looking to score some munitions. They don’t suspect a thing. We’ll take care of them, pick up our payment at The Blue Note, and go our separate ways."

   "Nothing is ever that easy, man."

********

   "Why is he gagged?" yelled Foley as he reached the bottom step.

   "He was mouthing off, Mr. Foley," answered Manny.

   "Well, how is he gonna beg for his life with that thing in his trap?"

   Hutch’s eyes turned smoldering. His thoughts became focused on one thing. And that was not to give this bastard the satisfaction. He wouldn’t beg; he wouldn’t cry out. He’d found one thing on which to concentrate, one thing to strive for. Hutch would take what was coming without a sound. If he could control nothing else, he could control how he’d leave this world. He’d do it with dignity. Foley and his henchmen couldn’t force him to give that up. If he held onto that, maybe he could go through this. Starsk, he thought, I want you to know that they never broke me. These bastards never broke me. You can be proud of your partner, buddy.

   Hutch soon lost all track of time. Life became a series of painful blows followed by short-lived periods of blackout. Whenever he lost consciousness, one of Foley’s men would dump a bucket of water on him or press a rag doused in ammonia to his face. And still the cameras rolled.

   Hutch was determined not to fold. He had no energy to return the fight and he was losing the ability to defend himself, but he would not fold. When he felt the urge to cry out in pain, he merely cursed Foley instead.

   But it could not last. Hutch was swirling in a sea of pain and he didn’t know whether to pray for a miracle or simply for death. In spite of all his resolve, he’d reached his breaking point and he longed for it all to stop.

   Starsk, Hutch thought, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t hold on, buddy. I tried to be strong, buddy. I just couldn’t... At some point, Hutch’s words left his thoughts and escaped from his lips.

   "Starsk, Starsk...." he whispered.

   "What are you saying, pig?" hissed Foley, breathing raggedly.

   Apparently Hutch had managed at some point to land a few more blows because Foley was standing before him bloodied and disheveled.

   "Damn you," croaked Hutch. "You son of a bitch." The room began to swim before him and the blond was gasping for breath. He couldn’t seem to get any. Oh God, let this end, he thought.

   "Enough, enough..."

   "What? I can’t hear you, pig!"

   Forgive me, Starsk. I love you, he thought. Then Hutch tried to focus his eyes on one of the four images of Foley that danced before him.

   "Kill me... please."

********

   Starsky followed the Chrysler to a seemingly abandoned building in the warehouse district near the pier. He kept the Torino at a safe distance and cut the lights. Then the detective quickly crept up behind the Chrysler, ducking behind stacks of boxes and crates as he made his way forward.

   The men sat in the car for a few minutes and then Yancey opened the driver’s side door. Starsky dashed up to the car as he saw the door opening. Before Yancey could grab his gun, Starsky had sprinted behind him, grabbed the man and forcibly pulled him from his seat, his gun drawn and pointed at Yancey’s temple.

   "What the..." sputtered Yancey.

   "YOU!" the detective yelled to Eddie. "Throw down your weapon and get away from the car... MOVE!!!"

   Eddie did as he was told. Fearing that Starsky was a mite trigger happy, he went one step further. He got in a prone position on the ground and put his hands behind his head.

   "Oh, for God’s sake, Eddie," said Yancey when he saw what his partner was doing.

   Meanwhile, Starsky grabbed Yancey’s gun from his holster. "Detective Hutchinson. Where is he?"

   "Who?"

   "Listen, you scum. You were overheard discussing Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson. Hutchinson’s missing and I’m Starsky. You got the picture?"

   "Hey, man!"

   "Starsky pressed his gun harder against Yancey’s temple. "Don’t ‘hey man’ me. Word on the street is that you and your buddy over there are trying to be a coupla heavy hitters in this town. Now if you don’t start talking, I’m gonna blow you away and take my chances with your more cooperative friend over there!"

   Just then a green Skylark pulled into the lot, dimming its lights. It screeched to a halt as its occupants sized up the scene in front of them.

   "You see that!" yelled Joey excitedly. "What did I tell you, man! I knew this was gonna go down bad!"

   "Joey, calm down and get us the hell out of here."

   Suddenly pressing down on the accelerator, Joey spun the car around and squealed back in the direction from which they had come.

   Starsky immediately recognized the Skylark. He didn’t know exactly how all this fit together, but he was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was a ring leader involved who held all the cards. He slammed Yancey hard against the car and screamed at him. "WHO HIRED YOU?"

   If Yancey didn’t need his mouth to give an answer, Starsky would have shoved the gun barrel down his throat. As it was, he was half tempted to shove his weapon right through the man’s skull.

   Yancey mumbled something unintelligible.

   "WHAT?"

   "Richard Foley."

   Starsky took a moment to digest the information. Talk about a major player. Foley was a syndicate boss that the Department had been trying to take down for years. He quickly cuffed Yancey and Eddie to their respective door handles of the Chrysler and radioed Dobey. He gave the Captain the location in the warehouse district where Yancey and his partner could be found. He then told him to send every available unit to the Foley Estate.

   "You have any information about Hutch?"

   "I think I’m about to find out, Cap’n."

   "Well, for heaven’s sake, Starsky, don’t go charging in there alone! Wait for backup."

   Right," said Starsky, and with the singular vision with which he approached most moments of crisis, he floored the Torino, throwing on the gumball as an afterthought.

   Dobey quickly organized a task force to head to the Foley Estate. He followed in his own car and radioed Miller at his home.

   "Get your ass over to Foley’s place!" was all he said to the man.

********

   Starsky pulled up to the gates of the Foley Estate just as several black and whites arrived. Seeing the amount of firepower at his doorstep, the guard let them through without protest. He radioed ahead to the main house, but it was hardly necessary with the screaming sirens.

   Starsky was about to bust down the front door when Max appeared at the threshold. Before anyone could stop him, the detective had the man by the throat.

   "Detective Kenneth Hutchinson. Where is he?"

   "Basement..." Max managed to croak out as the fingers tightened around his neck.

   "Take me there!" screamed Starsky, releasing the man.

   Max quickly led Starsky and the legion of officers behind him to the basement. The detective was the first to fly down the stairs.

   "Everyone on the floor! NOW!"

   In seconds the basement was overrun with police officers. They swarmed over the room, knocking over camera equipment and pinning assailants to the floor. It all happened so quickly, not a single shot was fired.

   Starsky grabbed a staggering Foley and shoved him into the arms of an officer standing by with cuffs. It was then that he spotted his partner.

   "Oh my God! Huuuutch!"

   As the officers were shuffling the cuffed men up the stairs, Starsky screamed at one of them to call an ambulance. He dove beside his partner, fearing that he may be too late. A small groan escaped Hutch’s lips and Starsky carefully scooped up the broken and bloodied body into his arms.

   "Everything’s okay, Hutch. I’m right here, babe." Starsky began to rock his partner slowly, the tears welling up in his eyes. "Oh God, Hutch. Just hold on, babe. Stay with me." Starsky cradled his partner’s head. "Don’t you leave me, Hutch. You hear me, huh? Please stay with me. The ambulance is on its way."

   Slowly Hutch began to stir.

   "Come on, buddy," said the brunet, rubbing his partner’s cheek. "Open you eyes. Let me know you hear me."

   Hutch did open his eyes, but he was completely disoriented. When he was able to focus enough to see the basement, all he could think about was the further pain that would be inflicted. With his voice barely a gasp he whispered "No more, please... kill me ... I’ve... I’ve had... all I can take... please."

   Starsky’s heart was ready to break as he heard his friend’s words.

   "Hutch, it’s me, Starsky. It’s okay, babe. You’re safe now."

   But Starsky’s presence hadn’t yet registered. With the last of his strength, Hutch tried to break free of Starsky’s grasp.

   "You win," Hutch gasped. "Please..."

   The tears were streaming down Starsky’s face. How could he make Hutch understand? All he could do was hold Hutch tightly as his own body became wracked with sobs for his injured friend.

   Slowly Hutch became aware of the fact that he was being held and not grabbed. He blinked his eyes to focus them and it was then that he saw Starsky for the first time. Almost in disbelief, he cried out, "Starsk?"

   "Yeah, buddy, it’s me."

   "Oh, Starsk," cried Hutch. And suddenly all the strain of trying to withstand the pain and the indignity came crashing upon him and he completely broke down. Hutch could see that Starsky was scared out of his wits, but the more he tried to get a hold of himself, the more he felt himself losing all control. Finally he gave up and completely collapsed in his partner’s arms. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief even though he continued to gasp for breath. Hutch felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, but he knew it was going to be okay. Starsky was here. Nothing bad could happen now. Feeling absolutely safe, he let himself fall into the blackness.

********

   Starsky continued to rock Hutch gently and speak words of encouragement, not knowing whether his partner could hear him. The brunet was oblivious to the commotion around him until Dobey was by his side. The Captain began barking orders to the men. "Anderson! Donnelley! I want all this equipment bagged as evidence. The rest of you — get the last of these jokers out of here!"

   Starsky felt the Captain’s hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see the man’s pained expression. "How’s he doing, son?"

   "I don’t know, Cap’n. They worked him over pretty bad. I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch, Foley!"

   "All right, just take it easy. First things first."

   The paramedics were soon on the scene and it was all Dobey could do to pry Starsky away from his partner. When the ambulance team took a hold of the blond to move him to the stretcher, Starsky was beside himself.

   "For God’s sake, be careful! He’s already been through hell!" He could feel the tears on his cheeks, but he didn’t care who saw.

   One of the paramedics recognized the brunet. "Listen, Detective, take it easy. I know he’s your partner. Me and my buddy are gonna take good care of him. Just relax."

   "Come on, Starsky, let them work!" said Dobey, pulling the detective back rather forcefully by the arms. "You ride with me; we’ll follow the ambulance."

   As the paramedics were getting ready to carry the stretcher up the stairs, Lt. Miller came running down them.

   "Get out of the way, Miller!" yelled Starsky, shoving the Lieutenant aside. Miller was unprepared for the push and stumbled down the last two steps."

   "WHY YOU...!"

   "Not now," barked Dobey. "Can’t you see we’ve got an injured officer here!" He cleared the way for the paramedics and Starsky ran up the steps, following his partner.

   Miller grabbed Dobey’s arm. "I’m warning you, Captain, I’ll have that man’s badge before I’m done!"

   "Back off, Miller! You see to it that all the evidence in this hell hole makes its way back to Headquarters and then seal off the area. I want you waiting for me at Division!" With that, Dobey hurried up the stairs.

   Anderson and Donnelley had paused momentarily to listen to the argument between the Captain and the Lieutenant.

   "What the hell are you two staring at!" Miller bellowed. "You heard the Captain! Get busy!"

********

   Starsky was out of the car at the hospital before Dobey could even come to a complete stop. The rush was useless, though. Starsky couldn’t seem to get any information from anyone. The detective paced the floor outside the nurse's station for the better part of several hours, threatening to wear a hole in the linoleum.

   "Starsky, sit down!" said Dobey when he could stand it no longer. "You’re driving me crazy!"

   "I can’t help it, Cap’n. Why won’t they tell us anything?"

   The detective had already tried unsuccessfully to get information from the night nurse. But he had sized her up early as a real ‘Nurse Ratchet’ type who was tight-lipped and bad-tempered.

   "I already told you, Mr. Starky. There is no word on Mr. Hutchinson yet."

   "It’s ‘Starsky.’ With an ‘s,’" growled the brunet.

   "Whatever."

   "Starsky, for God’s sake, sit down," said Dobey. "If you use any more of your charm on that woman, you’re gonna get yourself thrown out of here!"

   Starsky sighed and relented by taking a seat. He didn’t stay in it for more than a few seconds, though. Not once he caught sight of the doctor heading down the hall. He jumped up and met the man halfway.

   "How is he, Doc?" he asked anxiously.

   "Very lucky, I’d say." He came in with several cracked ribs and a punctured lung. We’ve repaired the damage. It’s a good thing you got him here when you did."

   "Can I see him?"

   "He’ll be out for the next twelve hours at least."

   "I just want to see him."

   "Very well. Come with me."

   "I’m heading back to the station, Starsky," said the Captain. "After you see Hutch, I want you to get some sleep. I’ll send an officer to take you home."

   Starsky entered the recovery room quietly. Hutch lie very still, surrounded by a barrage of tubes and IVs. But he was breathing on his own. Thank God, thought Starsky. He gently lifted up one of Hutch’s hands and held it between his own. "We made it, partner," he whispered. He sat watching his partner’s rhythmic breathing until the doctor forced him to leave. The doctor reassured the detective that his partner was in good hands and led him back into the waiting area. Anderson and Donnelley were standing there.

   "How’s he doing, Starsky?" asked Anderson.

   "He’s gonna be okay." Feeling incredibly weary all of a sudden, Starsky rubbed his eyes and seemed to sag.

   Donnelley moved forward and took the detective by the arm. "We brought the Torino over. How about we follow you home in the squad car and make sure you get there in one piece? You look mighty beat."

   "I appreciate it, guys. But I’m gonna follow you back to the station."

   "Look, Starsky, I know what you’re thinking. If someone messed with Anderson, here, I’d damn well want his head on a platter too. But Foley’s been booked. He’s not going anywhere."

   "It ain’t Foley I’m worried about," said Starsky heading for the elevator.

   Anderson and Donnelley exchanged confused glances and quickly followed the detective.

********

   When Starsky reached the station, it was nearly 4:30 in the morning. He made a beeline for Dobey’s office. The Captain was on the phone. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the detective in the doorway and covered the mouthpiece with his hand.

   "Starsky, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to go home."

   "Well, I’m here, Cap’n. I want to know what’s happening."

   Dobey put his hand up and returned to the person on the line. "Fine. I’ll be right down."

   The Captain hung up the phone. "Starsky, have a seat."

   "Why, where are you going?"

   "Dave, I’m only gonna say this once. You are no longer involved in this case."

   "Not involved! My partner spends hours suffering... God only knows what at the hands of a damn sadistic psychopath..." Starsky was nearly sputtering.

   "That’s exactly my point," said Dobey, his own voice rising. "You’re too emotionally wrapped up in all of this. I don’t need you losing your cool and doing something stupid! You want to help Hutch? Go home and get some rest."

   "Don’t do this, Captain. Please. I’ll behave. I promise."

   Dobey rubbed his hands through his hair and groaned.

   "Come on, Cap’n."

   "All right, Starsky, all right," he said, not at all convinced it was a good decision. "But don’t you make me regret this!"

   The two men reported to the property room. There were several technicians on hand working with some equipment in the corner and a couple of other detectives who had been called in to work the case. The detectives discreetly asked Dobey how Hutchinson was, not wanting to upset his partner, who was visibly agitated. When Starsky saw he wasn’t being included in the conversation, he stepped forward. "Hey fellas, we ain’t keeping any secret here. Whatcha got?"

   Detective Jameson stepped forward. "We’ve got Foley and his men separated so they can’t swap stories. Two of them are fighting for the right to spill his guts first. Believe me, Starsky, we’ve got more than enough to put Foley away for years. The bastard should have done some closer background checks on his employees. They ain’t gonna win any awards for loyalty. What with their testimony and what must be on that film Anderson and Donnelley recovered..." Dobey shot the detective a dagger look and Jameson fell silent.

   Starsky’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. One of the technicians approached Dobey and said a few words quietly to him. Dobey nodded and headed for a small room off the main evidence storage area. Detectives Jameson and Washington followed. Washington gave his partner a nudge. Jameson just shrugged. He could have kicked himself, but there was no taking the words back. As Starsky followed the men, Donnelley, who had caught the tail-end of the conversation, stopped him.

   "Come on, man. You don’t want to see that."

   "Hutch lived it, Donnelley," said Starsky as he brushed past the officer.

   "Let him go," said Anderson. "You’re not going to stop him."

********

   Dobey shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the film rolled. He had one eye on the screen and one eye on Starsky. He could have insisted that Starsky leave the room and perhaps he should have. But it was almost as if the detective were struggling to come to terms with what had happened to his partner. As if he needed to understand fully what Hutch had faced so that he could take on some of the burden for the nightmares that were sure to visit his partner long after the physical scars had healed. And so with his insides churning, Dobey nodded to one of the technicians who started the projector.

   Starsky visibly stiffened when the film began. He could feel the bile rising in his throat as he watched the images of his partner being brutalized by Foley and his men. He winced as he heard Hutch taunt Foley with barbs that would surely only bring on further abuse. But then Hutch must have known that whatever he did, the goal was for him to die, slowly and horribly. My God, thought Starsky. What could that have felt like? What must have been going through his mind?

   As the brunet watched events unfold on the screen he became aware of another form out of the corner of his eye. Through a small window in the projection area that looked out onto the entranceway to the property room, Starsky saw Lt. Miller looking over some files and speaking with the personnel pulling the graveyard shift in the evidence stacks. He watched the man talking cavalierly to a uniformed officer behind the counter, as if he were conducting a routine check on a batch of overdue parking tickets. And as Starsky continued to watch Miller, he knew. He knew as surely as he knew his own name that the Lieutenant had been looking to frame Foley from the beginning. He could care less about two would-be gun dealers from Brooklyn. He was only interested in the bigger catch the small timers could bait. Miller knew. All the time that was slipping away while Starsky was waiting for Yancey to return to the Fairfax. All the time that Hutch was being slowly beaten and tortured. All that time, Miller knew about Foley. And he hadn’t told a soul. Not Starsky, not Dobey, no one. And here he was shooting the shit as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Starsky began to seethe and he forgot any promise he may have made to Dobey. Rising so suddenly that his seat tipped backwards, Starsky ran from the room, straight for Miller. Before anyone could stop him he had the Lieutenant on the floor with his hands around his neck.

   "I’M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

   Miller was wide-eyed with fear. He grabbed wildly at the hands at his throat, but Starsky had him in a death grip. Donnelley got to Starsky first, but it took three men to pull the detective off of Miller.

   "Come on, man," said Donnelley. "It ain’t worth throwing your career away. Get a hold of yourself!"

   "I’m all right. I’m all right," said Starsky.

   But Donnelley wouldn’t let him go. He could feel the man shaking with rage.

   "Bring him to my office," bellowed Dobey to the officer. "NOW!"

   Miller began to rant and rave, but Dobey simply turned to him and said, "And YOU! You wait for me in your office!"

   Several of the men took the liberty of escorting Starsky upstairs to Dobey’s office. He repeatedly tried to wrench himself free of their grips and to convince them that he was calm, but no one was willing to take any chances. None of them knew exactly what had set Starsky off, but something in their guts told them it was probably at least partially justified. They were less interested in protecting Miller than in safeguarding Starsky from possible suspension.

   Dobey closed the door to his office and ordered Starsky to sit down. "What the hell were you thinking?"

   Starsky opened his mouth to speak, but Dobey was just getting started. "I’ll tell you what the problem is, you weren’t thinking at all! What did you hope to accomplish by attacking Miller? He’s not the enemy!"

   "Cap’n —"

   "I knew I shouldn’t have let you anywhere near this case. I guess I have myself to blame. We’ve got a major investigation on our hands, Starsky! We don’t need any sideshows. When news of this spreads through the Department, assuming Miller doesn’t file formal charges, we’ll have Internal Affairs to contend with!" Dobey was yelling by this time. Realizing that the men in the adjoining squad room could no doubt hear every word, he lowered his voice. "Overtired, emotionally involved... it’s never a good combination. Maybe Miller will understand and cut you some slack."

   "Cut ME some slack!" yelled Starsky

   "Now, listen —"

   "NO, Cap’n! Hear me out! I’m sorry about putting you in an awkward position. But I ain’t sorry for nailing that son of a bitch Miller! Don’t you get it? Foley was his mark from the beginning. That’s why he was being so closed-mouthed about the whole operation. He wanted to bring Foley down all by himself. You said yourself the man was hungry for a promotion. And even when he knew a cop’s life might be on the line, he never said a word!"

   "Starsky, Miller had no way of knowing that Foley was responsible for Hutch’s disappearance."

   "Maybe not. But he wasn’t square with us. And that man’s ego trip nearly cost me a partner!"

   Dobey took a moment to let the detective’s words sink in. Starsky, growing impatient, started to push his case further, but the Captain interrupted him.

   "Okay, Starsky, I’ve heard enough. You let me take it from here. Now go home and get some sleep. NO arguments!"

   Starsky nodded and left the office.

   Dobey sighed deeply. He wasn’t looking forward to confronting Miller, but it was something he couldn’t put off.

********

   Miller sat in his office trying to regain his composure and devise his next move. He knew what had triggered Starsky’s anger. On some level he even believed he’d had it coming. But he’d be damned if some renegade detective was going to get away with attacking him. In front of nearly a dozen witnesses, no less. At the very least Starsky should be put on report and docked a few days’ pay, he thought. He’d had no reason to believe Foley was looking to cast a cop in a damn snuff film, for crying out loud. Was he supposed to jeopardize months of work on the remote chance that Foley was involved?

   There was a knock at the door. Figuring it was Dobey, Miller made a mental note to take a firm stand on this one. But it wasn’t Dobey. Detective Washington stood in the doorway. He was a tall black man in his mid-thirties. The detective was a quiet man, known for his grace under pressure. Washington had gotten his rather quick-tempered partner out of more than a few scrapes with his judicious intervention and quick wit. It was an example of an unlikely pairing that seemed to work.

   "What can I do for you, Washington?"

   "I wanted to see if you were all right."

   "Yeah, I’m fine. But that damn hot-head Starsky’s got a screw loose. He stepped way over the line this time!"

   "You could say he was pretty upset."

   "Pretty upset? The man’s a loaded gun waiting to go off!"

   "Yeah, I know. Tell me, Lieutenant, have you seen the film they recovered from the Foley Estate?"

   "I know about it."

   "I didn’t ask you if you knew about it; I asked you if you’d seen it," said Washington quietly.

   Miller looked up and the men locked eyes. "I don’t think I like your tone, Washington."

   "All I’m suggesting is that if you took the time to watch it, you might understand the man’s rage."

   "Detective —"

   "Lieutenant, I’m not saying Starsky was justified. Maybe he was way off base. All I’m saying is, can you really expect a man to watch his partner go through that and not lash out?"

   Miller fell silent. Washington may have offered that Starsky was "off base," but that’s not what his eyes were saying. They communicated that Starsky had been right on target.

   There was another knock at the door. This time it was Captain Dobey. Detective Washington excused himself and left the office. Any bravado Miller may have been harboring left with him.

********

   Starsky headed home and tried to grab a few hours of sleep. But he got very little. He couldn’t tune out the array of disturbing images that swirled through his head. He was up by nine and headed for the hospital.

   Hutch had been moved to a private room on the fifth floor. Starsky entered quietly so as not to awaken his partner. The shades were down, but enough sunlight filtered through to reveal the extent of the damage inflicted. Starsky’s insides constricted as he saw the mass of bruises and abrasions that covered Hutch’s face, arms, and upper torso.

   "Damn," he said aloud.

   Taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, Starsky just watched Hutch sleeping. As he did so, the tears began to well up in his eyes and travel down his cheeks.

   Catching his breath sharply, he wiped the tears clumsily away and straightened up in the chair. Good Lord, Starsky, pull yourself together, he thought. Lucky for you Hutch is asleep and can’t see you blubbering like a fool. As he continued to watch Hutch’s steady breathing he began to relax and fairly soon was asleep himself.

   A few hours later Hutch began to stir. As he struggled to open his eyes he was hit with a wave of pain and bit back a groan. The first thing he saw was Starsky slumped at an awkward angle in the chair. He smiled. "Hey Starsk..." he said weakly. There was no response.

   Hutch tried to sit up, but the movement caused him to cry out. At the sound Starsky was immediately awake. He jumped from the chair, filled with concern. "Hutch? Hey, buddy. What can I do for you?"

   Hutch sank back into the pillows. "It’s okay..." he gasped a bit, trying to get his breathing under control. "Think I’ll just stay in this position for a while." He closed his eyes, taking a few more deep breaths and then looked back into the worried face of his partner.

   "So, tell me. Did you round up Foley and his merry band of thieves?"

   A wave of anguish traveled through the brunet at the mention of the name, but he tried to smile. "You better believe it. Brought in Yancey and his sidekick too. Seems like they were trying to weasel their way into Foley’s operation."

   "Ah, the plot thickens."

   "But Hutch, who grabbed you? The Yancey character seemed like a real snake, and he admitted to a bunch of shit, but he swore up and down he had nothing to do with you."

   "Well, he’s telling the truth there. I got a visit at home from our buddies in the Buick Skylark."

   "Shit!"

   "What?"

   "Well, they showed up when I was arresting Yancey and his partner. They took off in that car like a bat out of hell when they saw what was going down. Damn!"

   "Take it easy, Starsky —" said Hutch, but was cut off as another wave of pain hit him.

   Starsky’s eyes widened and he instinctively reached out to comfort his partner. "Should I call the doctor?"

   "No, no, it’s okay. Listen to me. Those guys that grabbed me... not sure what their angle was, but they struck me as a couple of errand boys."

   "Don’t worry, Hutch, I’m gonna nail ‘em!"

   "Hey, I’m all for bringing them in. I just don’t want you killing yourself worrying about it. More than likely they’ll trip themselves up if given enough rope." He smiled weakly at Starsky, trying to allay his fears. But his partner did not look convinced. Hutch tried to think of something to say to put him at ease, but if truth be told, he was fighting to stay awake and sleep promised to take away some of the throbbing pain. He look closely at Starsky and saw the dark circles under his eyes.

   "Hey, buddy. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you look terrible!"

   Starsky laughed.

   Hutch reached out for Starsky’s hand and his face turned serious. "Listen, Starsk, everything’s gonna be okay."

   "Hey, isn’t that my line?"

   "I want you to quit worrying," said Hutch quietly.

   "The sooner you get yourself well, the sooner I’ll quit worrying." Seeing how pale and drawn his partner looked, he urged Hutch to go back to sleep.

   Hutch settled back on the pillow and began to drift off.

   "Starsk?" he mumbled.

   "Yeah, buddy?"

   "Can you hang out here for a while?"

   "I ain’t going nowhere."

********

   Captain Dobey and Lt. Miller talked for half an hour. Miller was completely forthcoming with all the information and leads he had collected over the past few months. And he agreed to cooperate in all future aspects of the Foley case. Miller informed Dobey that he had no intention of pursuing the incident with Starsky. For his part, Dobey announced that he was compelled to put Miller on report for hampering an investigation, but assured the man that his job was not on the line.

********

   Over the next ten days, Hutch steadily improved. Starsky came to see him every day and kept him updated on the case. With the exception of the men in the Buick Skylark, all the players appeared to have been rounded up. As Jameson had revealed earlier, the members of Foley’s entourage were only too happy to turn on each other and their boss for the prospect of easier time. No one was getting off without quite a stint in the joint, however.

   One evening after work when Starsky arrived at the hospital, Hutch was sitting up, picking over a rather bland dinner.

   "If you’re real good, Blondie, I may just sneak in a burrito next time."

   "For you or for me?" laughed Hutch. Then he was quiet for a minute. "Starsk?"

   "Yeah?"

   "Lauren came by today."

   "Really? Well, I’m glad you’ve got a little more incentive to get out of this place besides the lousy food."

   Hutch blushed a bit. "You’re not far off. I definitely want to get to know a particular officer from the property room a whole lot better." He paused. "She told me what went down between you and Miller."

   "Delaney wasn’t even there that night."

   "Starsky, it’s all over the Department! What did you go and do that for? I’d like to think I still have a partner on the force. You seem intent on getting yourself thrown off!"

   Starsky couldn’t look at his partner. He sat staring down at his own hands. They had never discussed the film. Each had avoided the subject for fear of upsetting the other. Hutch sat wondering what Starsky must have gone through watching it. Starsky sat thinking about the fact that he’d hardly viewed the worst of it.

   Hutch broke the silence. "Talk to me, buddy."

   "Aw, Hutch," said Starsky, looking up. "I was probably out of line with Miller. But when I saw what Foley and his goons were doing... I just felt so... helpless. And you, cracking jokes about what a crappy film he was gonna make! Oh God, Hutch..." Starsky stopped, not trusting himself to continue without breaking down. Hutch had lived the nightmare and here he was falling apart.

   Hutch had tears in his eyes too. "All the time I was in that basement, I kept thinking: What would Starsky do? Then it came to me. He’d be a wiseass, I thought. No doubt about it."

   "You picked a hell of an example to follow."

   "Hey, I could take it then... and when I couldn’t take it any longer, you were there."

   Hutch reached out his hand and Starsky grasped it. No more words were spoken. None needed to be.

********

   In a seedy motel not far from the freeway, Tom read aloud to Joey the news of Foley’s arrest.

   "You see, man. We never should have gotten involved with that cat! Bad scene from the beginning."

   "For that reason I think it best if we go our separate ways for a while, Joey."

   "Yeah? Where you going?"

   "Probably out of the country for a bit until things here blow over. I suggest you do the same."

   "That’s easy for you to say, smart man. I don’t remember getting paid lately. I’m a little short on traveling funds."

   "I’ll tell you what, Joey. If you haven’t gotten yourself killed or arrested in the next few months, I’ll look you up. Maybe we can do business again."

   "Your confidence in me is real touching. I can do all right for myself."

   "I’m sure you can, Joey. I’m sure you can."

********

   Hutch sat in his apartment tossing a deck of cards one by one into a bowl across the room. He was itching to get back to work, but the doctor had ordered another week of recuperation at home. Hutch was wondering whether to read a book or strum on his guitar when there was a knock at the door. Rising a bit stiffly from the couch he walked across the room.

   "Who is it?"

   "It’s me. Open up."

   Hutch reached for the knob.

   "I hope you’ve got plenty of room in the fridge," said Starsky as he came through the door, juggling several six-packs.

   "Starsky, what are you doing?" asked Hutch as he closed the door, nearly knocking over Huggy Bear, who had just appeared at it. "I thought you had a date."

   "Not tonight, buddy boy," called out the brunet.

   "Hey, my man! A dude could get the feeling he wasn’t welcome here." Huggy brushed by with several sacks of food.

   "Sorry, Hug. But what are you doing here? And who’s minding the store?"

   "I’ll have you know my girls are highly trained and masters of the game. They can handle the bar for one night." He began looking around the apartment. "Where should I put the goodies?"

   "Just throw ‘em on the table here, Hug," answered Starsky before Hutch had a chance.

   "Wait till you see the spread I brought! I got some chicken wings and some barbeque sauce and some hot tamales, oh, and Blondie, I didn’t forget you, my man," Huggy said, removing a tray from one of the bags. "For you, fresh vegetables and California dip, fruit of the gods!"

   "Listen, guys, I appreciate all this, but I’m fine, really. I know that you both have better things to do on a Saturday night than babysit me."

   "Babysit you?" said Starsky with mock indignation. "The only reason we’re here is because your set gets the best reception. And there’s a helluva movie line-up tonight on Channel 57."

   "Aw, Starsk. You know I love ya, but our taste in movies doesn’t exactly match, you know."

   "Yeah. Mine’s better. Yes sir! Tonight it’s Pacino doing what he does best. And the first attraction is Dog Day Afternoon — one of my personal favorites."

   "Not that one where the guy doesn’t know where the state of Wyoming is," said Hutch, rolling his eyes.

   "That’s the one, buddy boy. I’m telling ya, you’re gonna love it, Hutch. Ya see, it’s all about this guy that plans a bank heist in Brooklyn..."

   Hutch tried to keep a pained expression on his face, but he was soon laughing at Starsky and his boyish level of enthusiasm.

   "All right, all right. If you’re gonna make me sit through it, don’t tell me the whole plot."

   Huggy was trying in vain to set out plates, but Starsky was too busy sampling items and licking his fingers to bother with that.

   "Oh, but Hutch, let me just tell you one other thing —"

   And as if they had rehearsed it, Huggy handed Hutch a tamale which the blond promptly deposited in Starsky’s mouth. Hutch started giggling again as he reached for a beer.

   Only momentarily taken aback, Starsky began to munch happily. "Like I was saying," came a muffled voice.

   "For heaven’s sake, Starsky, don’t talk with your mouth full!"

THE END