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Soho

PART TWO

   It was after 1:00 p.m. when the now more refreshed Starsky made his way back to the hospital. Hutch was sitting up picking at a very bland lunch specially prepared by the on-staff dietitian that the nursing assistant had brought in for him.

   He was giving his account of the entire incident to Captain Dobey, who sat in a chair next to the bed with a pen and pad writing down Hutch's narrative.

   Starsky also noticed the basket of fruit on the night stand and worked to suppress his grin.

   Big, tough, Captain Dobey can be such a softy when he wants to, Starsky thought silently.

   Although, obviously worn down, Starsky thought Hutch looked better than the day before. It would be quite a while until he looked more like his old self again.

   Hutch looked up when Starsky entered the room. He was pleasantly surprised to see his curly-headed partner. In a stronger but still weak voice said, "Hey, Starsky! How's it going?"

   "Shouldn't I be asking you that, Blondie?" Starsky asked, smiling, as he walked up to the bed examining with displeasure the concoction on Hutch's lunch tray. "Looks like a need for a food smuggling operation is in order, pal."

   "Oh, wouldn't that be great! Just don't get caught or they'll throw us both out."

   "How's the leg feeling?"

   "It was throbbing earlier, but the nurse gave me something for it. The doctor will be in later this afternoon to look at it again. Maybe I can get my cast and crutches and get out of here."

   "Whoa buddy, don't be in such a hurry to get out of here. Make sure you're ready to go before you run out the door. And this time don't lie to the doctor and tell him you're feeling fine when you're not. I know you, Hutchinson. I'll rat you out in a heartbeat!" Starsky admonished strongly.

   "Yes, Mother, I'll be good," came the somewhat sarcastic reply.

   Dobey looked up as Starsky's raised his eyebrows and said in a half serious tone, "Starsky, it certainly is nice to for you to come visit your partner in his time of need, but in case you already haven't noticed, I'm in the middle of taking a statement here. How am I supposed to close the case with you barging in here talking about food smuggling and ratting out your partner?"

   "Oh, uh, sorry, Cap. Any leads I can follow up on?"

   "Yeah, why don't you go see this Lou Scobey person and see what he can tell you."

   "Lou Scobey? What does that snitch have to do with this?"

   Hutch chimed in, "He called me the day I was hit. He told me he had some information on who was doing the murders involving that extortion ring we keep running into dead ends on. Said he would only meet with me and in that sleazy joint Barnaby's way across town. You know, the one the narcs keep busting?"

   "So, you think he was setting you up?"

   "I was just putting that prime rib into the oven when he called. I told him I would send you out there to see him and he said he didn't trust you. He would only talk to me or the deal was off."

   "Hutch, why didn't you call me? I could've met you out there."

   "Starsk, we couldn't get anywhere with that case, we kept running into brick walls. Remember? I guess you can say I was desperate for some sort of break. Maybe because of that, I just let my guard down. I should've seen the set-up. Looking back, it was clear as day."

   "So, what happened? How did you wind up in the ravine?"

   "I was on my way to see Scobey when a semi rammed me off the road. Kind of makes sense, doesn't it?"

   "That rat bastard!" Starsky said louder than he intended. He quickly looked around for anyone who may've been passing the room and heard him.

   Dobey looked up at him, mildly irritated, "Well, now that everyone knows this Scobey is what you say a 'rat bastard', why don't you find that man and get some answers from him? Just because your partner is laid up doesn't mean you're still not on duty. I want whoever is responsible for trying to kill one of my best detectives found and given the most severe punishment allowed by law!"

   Hutch smiled. "I didn't know I was your best detective, Captain."

   "Hutchinson, I said ONE of the best, not THE best.... Don't let your head swell up too big, I may have to deflate it for you," Dobey commented only half-serious then went back to jotting notes in his writing pad.

   Starsky walked over to the side of Hutch's bed, opposite of where Dobey sat. He bent down and whispered into his partner's ear, "Chef salad with thousand island dressing for dinner?"

   Hutch just gave a quick nod and darted his eyes towards Dobey, hoping he didn't notice the beginnings of a very delicious smuggling operation.

   Starsky and Hutch always smuggled food in for each other when one was hospitalized. They both agreed the food the staff served would only add indigestion and heartburn to their troubles. Of course, when Starsky was hospitalized, his requests usually consisted of a dietary nightmare, while Hutch's stayed more on the reasonable side.

   Starsky stood up. "Okay, buddy, I have to find Scobey and chat with him. I'll be back to see you a little later. Okay?"

   "Okay. See you later partner, and thanks for everything."

   Starsky looked across to the other side of the bed. "See you later, Captain."

   Dobey looked up from his pad. "The least you could've done was offer me a cheeseburger, Starsky. I haven't been a detective for 25 years for nothing. I know when there's illegal activity going on around me."

   Starsky gave him a crooked grin. "Sorry, Captain, but you have to be cooped up in here to become an accomplice."

   Starsky grabbed a banana out of the basket next to the bed and took Hutch's hand and plopped it in there. "Eat this, you're looking too skinny these days." Starsky patted his cheek and threw him a wink and a smile, then slowly made his way to the door and exited.

  ***********************

   Starsky pulled up in front of The Pits, and parked his Torino in front of the huge 'no parking' sign, painted in bold white letters on the outside wall. A few seconds later, he was walking through the front door of Huggy's new establishment. He was greeted by a tall thin black man who went by the name of Huggy Bear.

   In his generally high spirits, he greeted Starsky. "Well, if it isn't the curly half of my favorite dynamic duo. What it is m'man? I'm glad to hear ole Hutch is safe and sound and tucked away nicely. I'll stop by there later to see our hero. How's he doing, anyway?"

   Starsky had called Huggy the day Hutch was found to let him know what was going on.

   "Right now they're treating him for multiple problems, but most of all they want to keep an eye on the leg for a while. Hopefully he'll be home in a few days."

   "Mucho glad to hear it, my friend."

   "Hey, Hug, you have any idea where I can find Lou Scobey?"

   "Scobey? Maaaaaan, me and that cat don't do business no way. What ever that snitch is doin', I do not want to know nothing about it. I'm perfectly capable of finding trouble of my own, thank you very much."

   "He may've had something to do with Hutch being knocked into that ditch."

   "You kidding me?"

   "Look, Hug, I'll have to explain later, but right now I need to find him. Any ideas?"

   "Last I heard he's been hanging around that new sleaze joint called Jokers on 5th and Brookville. He knows I don't let his kind in here. I do have some standards, you know."

   "Thanks a lot, Hug. Oh hey, and listen, one more thing, can you get together a Chef Salad with thousand island dressing? I can swing by to pick it up in a few hours."

   "A Hutch special? You got it, mi amigo."

   "You're a good man, Hug".

  ***********************

   Starsky was driving towards Jokers, located in a more run down and depressed section of the city, when he stopped at a red light. While waiting for the light to change, he spotted it. His eyes grew, and his jaw dropped open.

   "No way," he mumbled to himself. "It can't be."

   There it sat in a used car lot across the street on the corner that boasted a fleet of well-used junkers. A light brown battered, '72 Ford LTD with a dented driver's side door and a lighter colored front end. Three of its four tires were flat, the windshield had a spider web style crack, and a headlight was gone. That's just what he was able to observe from where he sat.

   "Ain't no way there can be two of them. Can there?"

   He kept staring at it as if it were a ghost that had come back to haunt him. It was a perfect resemblance to Hutch's late car.

   Starsky was so mesmerized by it, he didn't realize the light had changed until the driver behind him blasted his horn. Mildly irritated by it, he yelled, "All right already, keep your pants on!" Even though he knew the driver couldn't hear him.

   Hmmm. I'll have to keep Hutch away from that place for a while. He's liable to want to buy that wreck, Starsky thought to himself as he began accelerating away from the intersection.

   Starsky walked into Jokers and immediately spotted Lou Scobey sitting at a joker poker machine, sipping beer, smoking a cigarette, and plunking quarters into the machine. Scobey looked up at Starsky who was stealthily walking in his direction. The older man jumped up as fast as he could, which was not very, and ran out the back door which lead into a nearby alley. Starsky ran after Lou, quickly catching up to him. Starsky grabbed him by the back of his sports coat, stopping the older man in his tracks.

   He quickly and not so gently spun Lou around so that they were facing each other. Starsky normally was not so rough with the older suspects he and Hutch encountered, but he couldn't help but think that this guy was partially responsible for Hutch's disappearance. He also could have very well been partially responsible for Hutch's death had he not survived the accident, and therefore, Starsky felt, didn't deserve the respect for his age.

   Lou acted shocked and surprised, going into his defensive mode. "What gives?! I ain't done nothing, man! C'mon Starsky, I ain't done nothing!" Lou started backing away from Starsky, but the detective grabbed him, turned him around and cuffed him before spinning him back around to face him again.

   Starsky demanded with clenched teeth, "Tell me what you know!"

   "I don't know what you're talking about!"

   "Louis Scobey, you are under arrest for accessory in the attempted murder of a police officer. And believe me buddy, I will be talking with the D.A to dig up any other charge we can pin on you!" Starsky proceeded in reading Lou Scobey his Miranda rights as he steered him not too gently towards his car.

   ***********************

   Driving towards the precinct, he was stopped at that same light again. He was a little closer to "that car" this time. He now noticed, in addition to his first findings, one of the back lights was missing and the one remaining inflated tire was only a donut. He could not stop staring at that eye sore.

   He shook his head and smiled to himself. "Who in their right mind would buy that clunker? Hutch would, that's who."

   "You talking to me, Starsky?" came a small voice from the back seat.

   "No! So keep your mouth shut until I tell you you can talk!" Starsky spit back.

   ***********************

   Starsky, Lou Scobey and his lawyer sat in the interrogation room of the metro precinct. Starsky sat just opposite of Scobey.

    "All right, Lou, I'm gonna make this easy. Tell us all you know about the attempted murder on my partner's life, or I'll see to it you never walk the streets again for as long as your miserable hide is alive. Talk to me, and we'll try to cut you a sweet deal. It's the big guys I want, but I'll take you down with all of them as well if I have to."

   Scobey may have tried to smooth talk Starsky and Hutch in the past, but only for minor infractions. This however, was serious. This time, it wouldn't be safe to try his luck.

   Lou Scobey had been on the scene for more years than he could remember. He never really had much employment. He lived mainly on his wits, gambling, taking bribes, snitching, and drinking heavily. He was not a man of great pride. In his world, his own well being always came before anyone else's. He would sell out his own mother if it would benefit him in any way.

   Scobey looked at his court appointed attorney. "I want to deal."

   Scobey's court appointed lawyer, Floyd McNamara, a tall, thin, redheaded young attorney fresh out of law school and short on experience, looked up at Starsky. "What can you do for my client?"

   "It's up to the D.A., but I can only recommend a sentence reduction in return for your client's testimony."

   District Attorney Ben Stone was called in to listen to Lou's story and to decide on what charges to pursue and sentence recommendation.

   Scobey sat next to his lawyer and literally spilled his guts.

   Ben Stone did all the questioning while Starsky listened intently. Ben Stone was an average sized man about 45 years old with receding brown hair with graying temples. His eyes were almost as blue as Hutch's. Ben Stone took his position as D.A. very seriously. He was good at what he did and could gobble up attorneys like Floyd McNamara and spit them out with little effort. He was a fair man and was willing to work with suspects, but he had a tough and very no nonsense attitude. Most knew not to try and hustle him. He always did his homework thoroughly.

   Scobey began. "I was approached by two men in a bar who offered me money to call Detective Hutchinson out onto Canyon road."

   "How much money, Mr. Scobey?"

   "A few grand. Two to be exact."

   "Go on."

   "I told Hutchinson I had information on a murder/extortion ring, he and Starsky was working on. Word was, they couldn't get anywhere with the case. I knew it would be the perfect story to get him to come out so I told him to meet me at Barnaby's because I thought I was being watched at the normal hang out. I knew he had to drive Canyon road to get there."

   "Who were these people, Mr. Scobey?"

   "Uh...it was, Jim Balford and some big goon he was with. Roy, I think his name was."

   Starsky chimed in "That would be Roy Slater. He's a hitman, but of no use to us now. He's dead. Fell off a six-story fire escape while running from me three days ago."

   "Jim Balford?!" Ben Stone shouted as he bolted out of his chair, sending it flying back into the wall behind him. This startled all that were in the room. "Defense attorney James Balford?!"

   Ben Stone looked at Starsky with fire in his eyes. Then turned to Lou Scobey, "Mr. Scobey, are you absolutely sure you're telling us exactly what transpired? Think carefully. A man's career is on the ropes here."

   "Mr. Stone, I'm telling you exactly what happened. It was Jim Balford and that Roy fella who put me up to it, but they never told me why they wanted him to come that route...I swear they never told me they were looking to bump him off."

   Ben Stone leaned over the table in Starsky's direction and stared at him with fire in his eyes. He demanded very slowly and seriously, "I want this bastard brought to me. I'm going to personally shred his license to practice law with my own two hands! One thing I will not tolerate is a crooked lawyer!"

   Ben normally didn't raise his voice when angry, but this time he did. He was a straight-laced attorney and had no tolerance for those who didn't walk the straight and narrow.

   Starsky jumped up. "I'll hand him to you on a silver platter, Mr. Stone."

   With that said, Starsky was out the door and in his car, racing through mid-day traffic.

   ***********************

    Starsky strolled into Jim Balford's office and walked up to his number one suspect, who had a phone in his ear. Starsky grabbed the phone, put it to his own ear and said into it, "He'll be available to talk in 15-20 if he's lucky." Then he slammed down the phone.

   "Mr. James Balford, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of a police officer, attempted obstruction of justice, and everything else the D.A. can dig up. Oh, and Mr. Stone is waiting for your ass so he can hang it. Let's go."

   Starsky cuffed the lawyer, read him his Miranda rights and shoved him towards the car.

   As he was driving towards the station again, he passed that same corner for the third time that day and sat at that same light. Again he found himself staring at that oversized paper weight in the corner car lot.

    Man, is that ugly? he thought silently to himself. I sure hope they get rid of that thing before Hutch finds it. I can just see him trying to drive that junker off the lot as is. Starsky couldn't help but smile to himself and shake his head.

   After booking Jim Balford, Starsky made his way back over to Huggy's to pick up Hutch's dinner. He also had Huggy add a hunk of black forest cake, and two cans of rootbeer Shasta. Hutch normally ate healthy food, but he was not totally above sweets every now and then. This seemed like a good time for Hutch let down his health food guard and indulge a little.

   Starsky made his way to Hutch's, unprepared for what would greet him. Hutch was in his bed, panting in severe pain, with an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth and sweat pouring out of him. His blankets were pulled off and his gown was soaked from perspiring.

   "Hutch!" Starsky dropped his package and hurried to his partner's bedside. Starsk put his hands on Hutch's shoulders. "What's wrong, buddy? Talk to me!"

   "Starsk...my leg.... Oh God, I can't take it. I think it's going to explode," Hutch said, panting.

   "Hang on, buddy, I'm gonna get the doctor in here."

   "He's already on his way. The nurse already spoke with him. Oh shit! I can't feel my foot, my leg is about to burst open!" Hutch said as he continued to pant heavily.

   A tall middle-aged man with balding white hair entered the room with a nurse and walked up to Hutch's bed. "Mr. Hutchinson, you remember me? I'm Dr. Ellis, your orthopedic surgeon." He turned to the other man standing in the room. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Dr. Ellis, and who might you be?"

   "Dave Starsky, Ken's partner."

   Dr. Ellis looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Your partner?"

   "We're homicide detectives, Dr. Ellis." Starsky quickly clarified before any other assumption could be made.

   "Oh, of course. Mr. Starsky, I'll need you to wait for me in the waiting area while I examine your partner."

   "No!" Hutch spoke up. "Please, let him stay, Doctor." Hutch was still panting in pain. It was too much for him to even open his eyes.

   Hutch felt like a baby wanting his partner to stay, but he was so frightened he did not care right at that moment.

   "Sure, Mr. Hutchinson. Only if you're comfortable with it. We just have a strong policy on patient confidentiality, but if you're giving verbal permission I don't have a problem with that. All I ask, Mr. Starsky, is that you stand on the other side of the bed so you're not in the way."

   Starsky stood at Hutch's side while the doctor took down the dressing on his patient's leg and exposed his other leg for comparison purposes. Hutch's injured calf was almost twice the size of the healthy one. The skin was taut, hot, and deep red. Dr. Ellis had the nurse administer a shot of a strong narcotic, then produced an instrument that resembled a tire pressure gauge with an extremely long needle on the end of it. Both Starsky and Hutch's eyes widened at the sight and Hutch clamped down on his partner's hand, making him grunt a little.

   "Mr. Hutchinson." Dr. Ellis began, "This is an arterial pressure transducer. I know the needle on the end of it is quite big, but it's necessary so I can measure the pressure the bleeding into your muscle compartments is exerting. I'm almost positive you have compartment syndrome, but I need to make absolutely certain of its severity before I can begin treatment."

   Hutch just gave a quick nod. The medication was beginning to dull the pain, but he knew it would do next to nothing when that needle was inserted into him.

   "Mr. Hutchinson, I'm going to have to insert this into several places in your calf to get several readings on the pressure gauge. This will tell me what steps we need to take next. Unfortunately, this is not going to be pleasant for you."

   "Please, Doc, just do something," Hutch pleaded. Since his dealings with Ben Forrest and his goons, Hutch had developed a severe aversion to needles of any kind, but the pain was so great at that moment, it over-rode any of his normal objections.

   The nurse swabbed a small section of the anterior portion leg with an alcohol pad and the doctor slowly inserted the needle deep into the front part of the leg.

   Hutch began to groan and squirmed a little. He tried to not let on how much pain he was in. Starsky tried to comfort him knowing exactly how much pain his partner was in.

   "It's okay, buddy, you're doing good." Meanwhile Starsky could hardly look at that needle plunging into his partner's leg. He was beginning to get a tingly feeling throughout his own body.

   The doctor noted the pressure reading on the gauge and pulled out the needle. The nurse applied a clean gauze to the slightly bleeding wound which she would do for each injection site. Starsky took a deep breath in attempt to collect himself.

   Dr. Ellis inserted the needle deep into the side of the calf. This time, Hutch felt it a little more.

   He gripped Starsky's hand hard and began breathing hard again. "Oh shit! Take it out! Please!" Hutch pleaded.

   Starsky bent over and whispered into his ear, "Shhh, Hutch, try to calm down. It's okay, you're doing great." Meanwhile Starsky wasn't doing so hot himself. He was now beginning to feel the return of that same light-headedness he had felt down in the ravine.

   Damn, he thought to himself, get a hold of yourself, Starsky.

   After taking a pressure reading, the doctor withdrew the needle. "Okay, Mr. Hutchinson, I'll need you to roll to your side so I can test the back part of your calf."

   Starsky helped him roll over so that he was facing him. "Come on buddy, just a few more times and you're done." Meanwhile, Starsky was having a harder time collecting himself. He felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

   The nurse swabbed a section of the posterior calf and the doctor slowly inserted the needle again.

   This time, Hutch let out a yell, wrapped his arms around his partner and pulled him close and buried his face into his stomach knocking the oxygen mask off his face. He screamed wordlessly at the unbearable pain.

   Starsky stroked his sweat-soaked hair. "Hutch, come on, buddy, try to relax." He started rubbing his back. "Shhh, it's okay, buddy. I know that's gotta hurt like hell."

   This time, not only was Starsky feeling light-headed, but his vision was getting a bit cloudy. He just closed his eyes and tried to shake the cobwebs out.

   "Mr. Starsky," Dr. Ellis said as he withdrew the needle once again, "are you feeling all right? You're looking a bit pale".

   "Oh yeah, just fine."

   "If you're not feeling well, then feel free to lie down on the other bed." Dr. Ellis gestured to the empty bed on the other side of the room.

   "No, I'm fine, really. Thank you, anyway."

   Starsky was trying not to let his friend know he was feeling fuzzy at the sight of him being stuck.

   Hutch, finally calming down, pulled away from Starsky and looked up at him. "Starsky, what's wrong?"

   "Don't worry about me, buddy. I feel just great."

   "Mr. Hutchinson," Dr. Ellis said, "I need to do this one more time to the back of the calf."

   Hutch took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around his partner. He was trembling this time. The pain from that needle was more unbearable than he thought he could handle. Starsky just held onto him and rubbed his back.

   "Last time, buddy, then it's over." Thank God for small favors.

   For the last time the doctor plunged the needle deep into his posterior calf and waited for a reading to show on the gauge.

   Hutch tightened his grip on his partner, buried his face into his middle again and screamed into it.

   Dr. Ellis withdrew the needle, Hutch loosened his grip on Starsky, and Starsky took a few steps backward before finally completely passing out on the floor.

   The nurse ran out to call for assistance and Dr. Ellis pulled an ammonia capsule from his white lab coat, broke it open, and held it under the fallen man's nose. Two orderlies came into the room and Dr. Ellis ordered them to put Starsky on the empty bed in the room.

   Hutch quickly flipped over and sat up looking towards his partner, but by then the narcotic was beginning to take its effect on him.

   "Starsshky! Wuzz goin' on?" Hutch slurred, as he was fading out himself.

   "Don't worry, Mr. Hutchinson." stated Dr. Ellis, your friend just passed out from all the excitement. We'll see to it he's okay." The doctor gently encouraged Hutch to lie back. Hutch, who by this time was feeling the strong effects of the pain narcotic did little to protest although his now glassy eyes stayed on his partner.

   A few minutes later, Starsky began to stir and finally opened his eyes. The first sight was a nurse standing over him placing a cold rag on his forehead. He had to admit it felt nice. He turned his head and looked towards Hutch. Dr. Ellis and his residents were milling around him., changing IV's taking his blood pressure, temperature, and pulse. One resident had a stethoscope to his chest listening to his lungs as he took breaths. Hutch sat there silently with a lethargic glazed-over look from the medication. The nurse charted all data as the orthopedic team worked him up.

   Starsky forced himself to a semi sitting position although he was still quite groggy and weak.

   "What's going on?!" he demanded.

    Dr. Ellis turned and walked up to his bed. "Mr. Starsky, your partner has compartment syndrome pretty badly. We need to take him to surgery to do what we call, a 'decompression' to the leg."

   "What? You're gonna what?" Starsky moaned as he was trying to regain his bearings.

   "We need to relieve the pressure in his lower leg immediately before it permanently damages the nerves and blood vessels. I'm afraid it's not going to be nice. The only way to relieve the pressure is to make two very large incisions on either side of the calf and leave it open for a few days while the blood drains out of the muscle compartments. Hopefully, after a few days we can close it back up, apply his cast and finally send him home.

   Starsky fell back onto his bed and put his hand to his forehead. He was stunned. "Oh my God. You really have to slice him open? How much?"

   "I'm afraid it may have to be the entire length of the lower leg. How are you doing, Mr. Starsky?"

   "A little better. What happened"?

   "You just went into what we call psychogenic shock...you just passed out. Nothing serious. It's not too uncommon among our visitors. It happens to the best of them and it's self-reversing.

   "How's your head? You banged it pretty good when you went down," Dr. Ellis asked as he ran his hand over the back of his head.

   "Oh, I think I have a lump on it, but I feel okay."

   Dr. Ellis then began running his hand down the back of Starsky's neck and the rest of his spine, palpitating it for deformities. "How's your neck and back? Does any of it hurt?"

   "Feels fine, Doc."

   Satisfied with Starsky's answers and also with his exam of his spine, Dr. Ellis said, "I think you'll be all right. I don't see the need to have you admitted. The nurse will have some orange juice and graham crackers brought to you, and when she decides you're feeling up to it, you can go. But don't over-tax yourself for the remainder of the day, and stay away from hospitals from now on. Okay?"

   "That's always been my goal, Doc, but they keep finding me for whatever reason. I'll be in the waiting area. Please let me know when it's over."

   "You got it."

   Starsky looked up towards his partner who was lying silent and motionless in his bed. Hutch was staring at nothing in particular.

   "Hey, buddy?"

    Hutch managed to weakly turn his head and look towards his partner with glassy eyes and said nothing.

   Starsky continued. "I'll be right here waiting for you when you get back. You're gonna do fine."

   Hutch just stared at him emotionless. Finally he was wheeled out of the room followed by Dr. Ellis and his team.

  ***********************

   Starsky had recovered from his fainting spell and was back pacing the waiting area nervously when Dr. Ellis came walking towards him with his usually bouncy happy gait. It had been two hours since he brought Hutch to surgery. Starsky liked this doctor. He had an extremely pleasant way about him and was honest and straight forward. He didn't pull any punches when it came to explaining things, and Starsky liked that.

   Starsky walked towards him and shook his hand when he finally approached him. "How's he doing, doc? Can I see him?"

   "First off, how are you doing, Mr. Starsky?"

   "I'm doing just fine, and please, call me Starsky or Dave. Now, how's Hutch?"

   "Mr. Hutchinson is on his way back to his room. The procedure has been completed. We had to put a thick dressing on the leg to absorb the drainage so we couldn't apply a splint to support the fractures. We'll be changing them several times daily. We had to temporarily put the leg in traction to keep the fragments in place and to prevent muscle spasms.

   "Can I see him, Doc? Please."

   "Dave, he's still doped up pretty heavily. He won't be awake until some time tomorrow."

   "I still need to see him. I promise not to disturb him."

   "Okay, but whatever you do, do not look at his leg. There will be quite a bit of drainage soaking through the dressing. We don't need another episode like earlier, Dave," Dr. Ellis warned with a smile.

   "No, we don't, Doc," and Starsky was on his way to back to room 223.

   Starsky quietly walked into Hutch's room where he lay peacefully in his bed. His blanket-covered leg was now slightly suspended from the bed and weights pulled his leg slightly upward and longitudinally. Starsky knew it was to help with discomfort, but to him, it looked like some sort of medieval torture mechanism.

   He pulled a chair close to the bed before sitting in it. He lowered the railing and took his partner's hand and held it while just staring at him. He sat there for over an hour, compassionately watching over his partner as he slept. He knew Hutch was in for a rough few days and would be totally confined to his bed. His hopes of going home would be held off for another few days at least.

   Even after leaving the hospital, Hutch would be dependent on him for basic needs. He wouldn't even be able to drive his own car with a cast on his leg -- not that he even had a one anymore. Starsky was bothered by how miserable and depressed Hutch would be from being so helpless.

   Finally, Starsky stood up, raised the rail and silently walked out of the room then made his way out to the parking lot and got into his car and drove off. He drove until he came to that same light again. He sat there at the light staring at that same jalopy he had been staring at all day long. The light finally turned green, but instead of driving off down the road, this time he drove into the car lot and pulled up to a run down small mobile trailer and turned off the engine.

   He slowly walked up to the trailer and lightly tapped on the door. The door opened and there stood a man, all of four feet tall, staring up at Starsky.

   "Hi, welcome to Stanley's used cars. I'm Stanley, but you can call me Stretch."

   "Stretch?" Starsky asked with a bit of shock before he got the joke. "Uh, Stretch, my name is Dave Starsky and...um I'd like to talk to you about that LTD you got here."

   "You would?" Stretch asked with shock then suddenly changed his expression when he thought he might sell that hunk of metal taking up space on his lot. "Oh, yes sir, right this way, please." The two men began walking towards the car. "It's a very fine car, Mr. Starsky. It's slightly used so it may need a few things done to it. But it's a fine piece of machinery, I assure you."

   "Yeah, I just bet it is," Starsky mumbled to himself. He was hearing the tell tale signs of a very smooth sales pitch coming on, but it wasn't really necessary. He was gonna buy that car regardless. His partner was going to have something to look forward to when he got home, besides being confined to a heavy cast.

   "Uh, Stretch, I want to make this easy on the both of us. Just tell me what you want for it."

   Stretch looked stunned, but knew when he heard desperation.

   "Like I said, Mr. Starsky, it's a fine piece of machinery, and with a few small repairs, this baby will purr like a kitten. You'll never regret your decision to buy this beaut."

   "The price, Stretch, just give me numbers."

   Stretch pulled a pen out from behind his ear, and a note pad from his shirt pocket and began jotting down math equations before looking up at his customer. "I'm asking five thousand dollars for her, sir."

   "Five thousands dollars! Are you nuts? Do I have the word 'sucker' written on my forehead, Stretch? I ain't paying that kind of money for that piece of junk and there ain't a sane person alive that would pay that much for it!"

    Starsky turned and began walking off the lot when he heard the pitter patter of Stretch's little feet running up to him. He hid his smile from his not-so-smooth salesman.

   "Wait a minute, Mr. Starsky," he was now talking fast and with a hint of desperation. "That was just my asking price, please, feel free to counter my offer."

   "Look, little man, I've been on the streets too long to let anybody take me for a ride." It was now Starsky's turn to do the smooth talking. "I know what you're tryin' to do and it ain't gonna work. The most I'll pay for that thing in that condition, is..." Starsky thought for a moment before coming up with a ridiculous price "...four hundred dollars."

   "Four hundred dollars?! Mr. Starsky, please...be reasonable! I'm a business man, I gotta make a little profit."

   "I'm gonna have to put a ton of money into it to get it reasonable once I get it off the lot." Starsky took a deep breath. "Okay Stretch, I'll go up to four fifty."

   "Eight hundred." came the counter offer.

   "Five hundred."

   "Seven hundred."

   "Five fifty."

   "Six fifty."

   "Five seventy-five or I walk off this lot right now, and you keep the car."

   Stretch thought for a moment and with defeated note in his voice said, "Okay, if that's all I can get for it, then five hundred and seventy-five dollars is it, I guess. I'll get the papers drawn up."

   Starsky followed the short man back to his trailer and filled out the necessary paperwork. Since the banks were already closed for the day, he told Stretch he would be back the next day with his money.

   Starsky stopped off at Merle The Earl's body and fender and told him what he was having towed to his place the next afternoon. Merle was not happy at what Starsky was asking of him. After a lot of yelling and jumping up and down on his part, and after a bit of pleading and begging on Starsky's, and telling Merle the story concerning Hutch's last car, Merle relented. He agreed to take the car in and attempt to make it run, but after hearing what Starsky already told him about it, he wouldn't make any promises.

   Starsky just made him promise not to decorate the interior with that fuzzy stuff this time.

   "Starsky," Merle began, "I don't know why you two keep challenging me by bringing me one heap after the other."

   "That's because we love to see an artist in action, Merle."

   "Well, ain't you a jive turkey? Just keep in mind I can only work so many miracles."

   Starsky just smiled, "Call me after you've looked at it. But only call me. This is a surprise for Hutch, he's not to know anything about it, Merle."

   "Is this the kind of presents you give to your friends? I sure hate to see what you give to your enemies."

   Starsky could not help but laugh as he started towards his car. "See you later, Merle."

   "Yeah, yeah, sure," came Merle's reply.

   Starsky sat at the bar at Huggy's staring none-to-interestedly into a mug of beer. His depression was evident to the bar owner. Starsky explained Hutch's setback to Huggy, his eyes remaining lowered to the surface of the bar. Of course, he conveniently failed to mention him falling flat on the floor during the testing procedure being performed on Hutch's leg. He knew Huggy wouldn't say anything now, but at a later, happier date, he may feel the need to bring it up on a regular basis for the rest of his life.

   "Man Starsky, I thought he was getting better?"

   "Yeah, me too. Even if this is the worst he'll face, he's got a long road ahead of him."

   "Well, you tell my friend I will be there tomorrow with a dinner personally created by yours truly that will tickle his palate enough to make him forget his troubles."

   Starsky looked up from the bar at his friend and managed a faint smile. "Thanks, Hug. I know he'll appreciate it. So do I."

   "Hey, anything for my favorite dynamic duo. You just go tell Hutch to get better. Okay?"

   "Okay." Starsky tipped his beer and emptied it in one gulp. Afterwards, he got up from the stool and patted Huggy on the shoulder. "See you later, Hug."

   "Later, my man."

***********************

    Starsky made his way back to Hutch's room around 8 p.m. that evening. When he got there, the orthopedic tech was cleaning up after performing a dressing change on Hutch's leg. He turned his head at the old bloody dressing that she was gathering up until it was properly disposed of. The orthopedic tech, a 5'7" medium build woman with long brown curly hair and blue eyes, began to gently reapply the traction apparatus after having to remove it for the dressing change. All the while, Hutch remained asleep, still somewhat under the effects of the anesthesia.

    Starsky looked at her name tag. "Oh, uh, excuse me, Ms. Karen, I can come back if you're not finished in here."

    Karen looked up at him and smiled. "Oh no, that won't be necessary, I'm just about done. I'll only be a minute."

    Starsky kept watching her. She had a very unusual job where, among other things, she handled all the traction, casting, splinting, and bracing. Most people found this intriguing and liked to watch. Getting bombarded with questions from patients and visitors was quite the norm.

    "Hey, Karen, how did his incisions look? I mean, were they big?"

    "Yes, they extend down the entire lower leg, but it's a clean cut. Hopefully, the scarring should be minimal."

    "Doesn't all that traction hurt him?"

    "Nope, it's just the opposite. The weights that pull on his leg work to fatigue the muscles which forces them to relax. When the muscles are relaxed, they stop spasming. You don't see Mr. Hutchinson complaining, do you?"

    Starsky looked down at his friend who had not moved or even opened his eyes.

    "No, I guess not."

    She looked at him again and this time her eyes widened and she cracked a smile. "Oh! You must be Dave Starsky, Ken's partner?"

   Starsky smiled back, "Yeah, we're detectives. We've been partners for a few years."

   "I know, Mr. Starsky, I heard all about you."

   "You did?" he asked, a bit surprised.

    "Sure I did," she answered matter-of-factly, "You're the one the orderlies had to scrape off the floor earlier."

    He blushed but did not say a word.

   At that moment, she heard the operator paging her to the emergency.

   Karen finished her procedure on Hutch, gathered up the rest of her things, and headed for the door.

   "Don't worry about it, it happens all the time. Oh and, FYI, visiting hours end in one half hour, but as far as I'm concerned, I've never seen you in here. I'll be back around 11 p.m. before I leave to check his dressing and examine his incision again. These things drain quite a bit and need to be changed often." With that, she winked at him and exited.