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PART THREE
Safe in My Home - Part Four
By
Sue David and Valerie Wells
Hutch poked his head around the curtain and caught his partner silently trying to sit up by himself, his eyes scrunched shut in a wave of pain.
"Hey, hey, hey... what do you think you’re doing?" he asked as he stepped up beside his partner and put a hand behind his back.
Starsky opened his eyes, and put a hand out for Hutch, who took it and eased him to a sitting position. Starsky held his right arm close to his side and he was still pale. Hutch looked into his eyes, content that his friend was focusing, probably too well based on the level of pain he wore on his face. The bullet had hit him near where he’d been kicked back in his apartment, so the area was already sore. Hutch could see purple bruising spreading out from underneath the thick gauze he had wrapped around his abdomen.
"You all right?"
"Forget about that, how’s Ma?"
When he regained consciousness, the treatment team had told Starsky his mother was fine. He wasn’t prepared to believe it until he saw her or he heard it from Hutch. "She’s just fine. Not hurt at all."
Starsky sighed with relief. "But the blood?" He was worried about the blood spatters found in Rachel’s room.
"Not her blood, buddy. When they grabbed her, she hit Vinnie in the face with a hardback book. She said his nose was gushing."
Starsky laughed, then gasped and grimaced, squeaking out, "Atta girl, Ma."
Hutch rubbed circles on his back and talked to him, reassuring him about his mother and explaining what went down after Starsky was shot. He was so relieved Starsky wasn’t hurt badly, he’d forgotten about his own lingering injuries. Starsky looked up at the now fading black eye on his best friend’s face and shook his head. "We’re quite a pair."
"As always, buddy."
They looked at each other and chuckled nervously. Starsky said, "Since when did the criminals get smart enough to shoot beside the door? Hope that doesn’t become a pattern."
Hutch replied, "That guy must’ve watched some cop shows. Is nothing sacred?"
"Really," Starsky quipped. Then his voice became serious. "Okay. Vinnie wasn’t there. We’ve gotta get Ma outta here. Hand me my pants, will ya?" Starsky swung his legs over the edge of the gurney.
"They didn’t cut ‘em off this time?"
"Nope. I came to before they got the chance." Starsky snorted. "The nurse said I was combative and uncooperative."
"No...you?" Hutch smiled. He looked around and found his friend’s clothes. While they were discussing what they’d do next, a nurse came in with Starsky’s discharge instructions. She tried to talk to Starsky, but he was studiously ignoring her while he dressed.
In exasperation, she turned to Hutch. "You his partner?" When Hutch nodded at her, she said, "Good, I’ll tell you then." She shoved two prescription bottles into his hands. "One’s an antibiotic, the other’s for pain. His rib was cracked, but not broken. Still, no strenuous activity for a while. Follow up with his regular doc next week. Stitches can come out in ten days."
She pushed a clipboard under Starsky’s nose and handed him a pen. After he’d signed it, she turned to leave, saying over her shoulder as she went, "See if you can’t make it back out of our city without bleeding on it anymore, huh?"
The plan was to take Rachel home to rest and pick up some things. They’d get Nick to take her out of town for the duration the next day. After that was done, they’d get some sleep. Lieutenant Harris had promised them another unmarked car in the front and the back to watch the Starsky home. In the afternoon, they’d go down to the station to file their statements about the shooting and Rachel’s rescue.
An orderly appeared with a wheelchair for Starsky. The beginnings of his protest were squelched by a glare from his best friend. They wheeled the sullen man out to the waiting area.
Nick stood up and quickly went to his brother’s side.
"Nicky," Starsky said, accepting a hug from the younger man with a grimace. "Easy, I’m winged here."
"Yeah, uh...." Nick stood up and ruffled his brother’s hair gently. "I’m just glad you’re okay."
Rachel kissed him on the cheek and said, "I was so worried, Davy. You sure you’re all right, now?"
"Yeah, Ma. C’mon, let’s get moving. I want to get you home. ‘S late."
Starsky and his small entourage left the hospital and returned to Rachel’s place. While Nick parked the car, Hutch helped his partner up the stairs, Rachel right behind them. She wasn’t prepared for what she saw when they entered her home.
The kidnappers had chloroformed her and carried her out the back unconscious. She had no idea the house had been trashed.
"Oh, my," she said, putting a hand up to cover her mouth. She walked into her living room and looked around at the disaster that was once a neat, welcoming place to sit.
"I’m sorry, Ma. We’ll clean it up."
"Nonsense, David," she said as she turned to face her son. "Ken, get him to lie down on the couch before he falls down. I’ll make us some tea." She used her exit to homey duties as cover for the tears that were coming to her eyes. Rachel did not want her boys to see her cry. Hutch straightened out the ripped couch cushions as best he could, shoving the stuffing back in and making a place for Starsky to rest.
Fortunately, the men had not broken her teakettle. Soon, she returned to the room with tea for all four of them, content to see her oldest son resting on the couch, her youngest hanging her pictures back on the walls, and her extra son helping him. She smiled at them.
"Drink it while it’s hot, boys."
The detectives explained that they had found some important evidence, but they refused to share what it was. Hutch had kept the envelope on his person the entire time. Even Nick hadn’t seen its contents. Both cops believed it would be safer for Rachel not to know, and neither one of them trusted Nick with the information. They explained their plan to get Mrs. Starsky out of town. She didn’t like it, but she agreed, seeing how important it was to both men. In the morning, Nick would take her to her elderly aunt’s farmhouse in Pennsylvania. They would both be all right there until they got word it was safe to return. After they were done with their planning, Rachel asked to be left alone with her oldest son. The other two men excused themselves, Nick going off to pack some things for his mother, Hutch retreating to the kitchen to call Captain Dobey with an update.
"What is it, Ma?" Starsky asked. His eyes were tired from the painkillers he’d been given at the hospital.
"I need to talk to you, sweetheart. About when your father died." She sat down on the couch, facing Starsky, so she could see his eyes.
"Pop had some pretty important people mad at him, you must’ve known that." Starsky was sure none of the information they’d thought appropriate to share would come as much of a surprise to his mother.
"I knew. He never said who it was, but I knew. Be careful, son. Your father wouldn’t want you to get... hurt. Especially over something dead and buried more than twenty years ago."
Starsky was pensive. He didn’t want to reveal too much, but he also wanted his mother to understand. "Ma, Hutch and me... we might be able to nail Pop’s killers as part of this deal."
Rachel Starsky let a tear slip down her cheek. Starsky reached up and brushed it away with his thumb. "Don’t cry, Ma, please?"
Thinking back to that terrible early evening when her husband died, Rachel got a far away look on her face. She took Starsky’s hand. "David, when your father was killed, he was dead before I got there. I never got to say goodbye. There you were, so young and afraid. Your eyes were like saucers and you were so quiet. You just sat there, holding onto him, crying in silence. You didn’t used to cry that way. Do you remember?" Rachel didn’t really intend for him to answer her. She had closed her eyes as she relived the most painful memory of her life. "I’ll bet you still cry like that."
"Ma...."
"Sh. Let me finish. Do you remember how you went to your room and wouldn’t come out? You wouldn’t even change out of the bloody clothes you were wearing until your Uncle Sam got you dressed for the funeral. A cop’s funeral, David. Tonight, I saw you hurt. Lying unconscious and bloody in a dirty tenement hallway. You weren’t moving and I... my mind went back to... your dad. I couldn’t stand it if I lost you. Please don’t get hurt. Tonight, I saw myself at another cop’s funeral." That sight had brought terror to a mother’s heart. She hoped her son understood what she was trying to tell him.
"Don’t worry. Hutch’s there f’me. I’m not hurt bad and we’ll be okay. We’ll have this thing wrapped up in no time. You’ll see."
Rachel opened her eyes again and looked down at her son, wishing she shared his confidence. She had never tried to sway him against becoming a policeman like his father. Despite her pride in him, sometimes she wished she had. She knew that her son’s future was decided that night, when a young boy watched his father die in his arms.
Sighing, she smiled at him and said, "I hate Aunt Ruth’s place. Smells like cows. See that it doesn’t take too long, okay?"
Starsky knew what she was trying to say. He wished he could make her feel better, but he’d settle for having her safe from what was likely to become a more dangerous case in the next few days – even if Aunt Ruth’s place did smell like cows.
********
At a dark warehouse several miles from the Starsky home, Vinnie Martino stood facing Dagget and some of his lieutenants. Dagget angrily smacked him in the back of the head, causing the usually cocky Vinnie to flinch and cower.
"You arrogant bastard. What d’ya mean you took the old lady over to your place? Didn’t you think he’d come lookin’ for her there? Huh?" The large man backhanded Vinnie on the side of the face this time.
"Look, boss, Starsky don’t know his head from a hole in the ground. He don’t even live here no more and his stupid partner ain’t never lived here. I figured they wouldn’t know where to look and nobody in that building asks any questions." As Dagget raised his fist, Vinnie cowered again and dropped to his knees.
The angry man kicked Vinnie’s shoulder, sending him sprawling. "They got her back!"
"I’m sorry, I know, boss...."
"Shut up!" Dagget spat at Vinnie. He crossed the room to a battered table, scooping up a pile of surveillance photos Vinnie had taken of the two detectives back in California. He tossed them onto the ground in front of Vinnie.
"Florenz don’t want no more screwups. He wants that evidence. Starsky and his partner have probably already found it."
"We ain’t even sure there is any evidence, boss! ‘S been a lotta years." Vinnie struggled to sit up, afraid to climb all the way to his feet.
"Florenz don’t care about that. He had that man’s father whacked, you idiot. He don’t want his avenging cop son comin’ in here and bringing him down."
Dagget paced around the room a while, punching his right fist into his left hand. The man wore a gold ring on every finger of his right hand. They had made the punches and slaps he’d delivered to Vinnie almost as painful as if he’d been wearing brass knuckles.
"All right. Maybe you’re right and there ain’t no evidence. I’m done dickin’ around with this. Tomorrow, you arrange a meet. Get ‘em to come down to the warehouse. Evidence, or no, Florenz wants Curly dead, that’s for sure. Says he reminds him too much of the old man. Spittin’ image. Creepy. Either he’s found the evidence already, or it ain’t never gonna be found. You get rid of him, and his interfering partner. Then, torch the old lady’s place. Waste anybody that gets in your way."
"But, boss." Vinnie was slime, but he didn’t like the idea of killing Mrs. Starsky if he didn’t have to do it. "Rachel Starsky is a civilian. She ain’t involved in any of this...."
"You kidnapped her, for God’s sake!"
"Yeah, but I wasn’t really gonna hurt her. Just grabbed her to scare Davy into turning over the goods."
"She was married to a cop and she raised another one. That makes her involved enough. If she gets in your way, kill her. You got any questions?"
"Yeah, how do I get ‘em down here?"
"Tell him you know who killed his old man – who arranged the hit."
"He’ll never go for that, Davy’s too smart."
"Yeah, he will. He’s one’a the good guys, the moron. Findin’ out who did his old man’ll be irresistible. Make it happen or it’s the last time you’ll fail a mission." Dagget snapped his fingers and jerked his head toward the door. He and his henchmen left the bleeding, dazed thug alone in the room. Vinnie smiled at the thought of telling David Starsky that Dagget was the man who had pulled the trigger on his dad and that he’d been the one to set him up for the hit. He wanted that painful thought to be the last thing Starsky ever knew.
********
Early the next morning, Nick and Rachel left in his car, with Rachel ordering her older son to keep her informed of what was going on.
"Sure, Ma. I will. Have a safe trip, and kiss Aunt Ruth for me."
Nick gave a snort of laughter, and even Rachel giggled. "You wouldn't kiss her yourself," she said tartly. "What's she going to think if I kiss her for you?"
"Aw, Ma, I was just a kid then," Starsky said, blushing to the roots of his hair. Hutch gave him a speculative look. He sensed a story here, which he would pry out of his partner later.
As she started to get into the car, Rachel said, "I'm sure I've forgotten something," and started to get back out, but Starsky gently nudged her back in.
"It's only for a few days," he said, kissing her cheek. "We work fast. See you later. Love you. Goodbye."
Rachel gave in and waved as Nick drove away, and Starsky heaved a big sigh of relief.
"Maybe I can concentrate on the case now," he said to Hutch.
"Maybe you can tell me about Aunt Ruth now," Hutch said with a wicked grin.
The color began to creep up Starsky's face again. "I was only nine."
"And?"
Starsky muttered something extremely impolite under his breath and moved back to the front steps, where he sank down. "I can see I ain't gonna get away with not tellin' ya."
"Nope."
He sighed. "You have to understand that Aunt Ruth only came to this country when I was nine. I'd never seen her or a picture of her. All that stuff got lost in the war. She was one of Ma’s only surviving relatives from the old country."
Hutch nodded.
"Well, she looks just like Elsa Lancaster, the actress who was in 'Bride of Frankenstein,'" Starsky said, looking up when Hutch gave a snicker. "She does," he added defensively. "Or enough like her to freak out a nine-year-old kid. She had all this black, black hair with streaks of white in it. I'd only seen the movie a coupla weeks before I met Aunt Ruth – "
Hutch began to see where this was going and struggled vainly to control his laughter.
Starsky frowned fiercely. "She's got this kind of booming, deep voice and the thickest accent you ever heard. So when we met her ship, and she got off, it kinda scared me when she swooped down on me and said 'Give us a kiss, Davy!' And I screamed and ran all the way back to the car."
By now, Hutch had tears in his eyes from laughing. And even though Starsky was glaring at him, Hutch could see his mouth twitching, too.
"What really made it embarrassing," Starsky went on, "was that Nicky, barely five years old, wasn't a bit scared of her. He crowed about that for weeks, jumping out at me from behind chairs and doors hollering 'give us a kiss, Davy' until I wanted to wring his scrawny neck. Aunt Ruth stayed with us for a couple of months before she moved to Pennsylvania to live with Aunt Sophie and Uncle Sol and I got over bein' scared of her, but nobody ever let me forget that."
Hutch had to sit down on the step beside his partner to catch his breath and wipe his eyes. "I can just see it," he said when he could talk.
Starsky finally relented and grinned. "Poor Aunt Ruth. Ma explained to her, in Yiddish, what had been wrong with me, and she always spoiled me and Nicky rotten with presents and homemade cookies and stuff. She's terrific."
"Far better than you deserved, I'm sure," Hutch said.
"You got that right," Starsky said, rising and holding out a hand to help Hutch up. "Let's get busy, huh?"
********
Starsky and Hutch had conceived a plan late the night before, while Rachel and Nick were sleeping. As soon as the two were safely gone, they went through the items in Mike Starsky's safe, choosing a handful of things to hide elsewhere in the house. They knew that Vinnie's boss – whoever he was – knew that something was hidden in the house somewhere and they wanted him to find enough to convince him, maybe, that he'd found it all.
They put a few of the photographs into a manila envelope and taped it to the underside of a drawer in the heavy buffet that had stood against the dining room wall since before Starsky was born. It was far too heavy for anyone to move alone, and for some reason had not been disturbed when the house had been searched before. They also had an appointment early in the afternoon of the day Nick and Rachel left to meet with the district attorney to put the rest of the photographs and evidence in his safekeeping and to get the wheels in motion to investigate Senator Florenz.
"Damn," Hutch said, examining the buffet. "What the hell is this made of? Concrete?"
Starsky grinned. "Good solid oak, buddy. My dad built this as a wedding present for Ma. Me and Nicky used to use it for a battleship or a rocket or a train to rob when we were kids. We climbed all over it and played on top of it and it's just as solid as it was when Pop and his partner dragged it up here from the basement."
"I can't imagine carrying this up stairs," Hutch said. "They must've been bigger and stronger than we are, pal."
"I thought Pop was ten feet tall and bulletproof when I was a kid," Starsky said, a little sadly. Hutch briefly clasped his shoulder.
Tom Harrald, the district attorney, was astonished with what they laid on his desk.
"My God," he said, over and over again. "I can't believe this. My God."
"We told you we had something hot," Starsky said.
"I never imagined.... " Harrald said. "Senator Florenz is one of the most popular senators in the state! He's a real contender for the Democratic nomination for president!"
"Do you want this guy in the White House?" Hutch asked point blank.
Harrald shook his head. "No, and neither will anyone else when this gets out. But it's going to take some doing, boys. He's a powerful man."
"We understand that," Starsky said. "But it's gotta be done."
Harrald stared at the top photo a moment longer. It showed Durniak handing Florenz a thick envelope, while Florenz slipped him a thinner one in exchange. He shook his head. "Bribery. Consorting with a known mob boss. I have to call the governor's office."
"You do that," Starsky said. "We have a little more digging to do. We'll keep in touch."
Harrald nodded. "You'll be at your mother's?"
"Yeah. You've got my number."
"Where to now?" Hutch asked as they came back out into the sunlight.
"Bobby," Starsky said without hesitation. "My dad's partner. He's due to retire in about a year, I think. He had to know what was going on. Bobby and Pop were as thick as me and you are and there ain't no way Pop woulda kept this secret from him."
"You know where to find him?" Hutch asked.
Starsky nodded. "Oh, yeah. Bobby and his wife still send Ma a Christmas card every year, and she sends them a Hanukkah card," he added with a twinkle in his eyes. "He's at the 17th precinct, working in the supply room."
"Like Bigelow?" Hutch was astonished. He knew from Starsky's stories about his dad and his partner that the two men had been decorated officers in the NYPD. To be sent to pasture in the supply room hardly seemed a fitting reward for brave service.
Starsky nodded. "Like Bigelow," he confirmed. "But don't feel too bad for him. He requested desk duty after Pop died. Didn't feel safe on the streets anymore. Didn't trust anybody else to watch his back." He flagged a cab down and directed the driver to the 17th.
But when they got there, the desk sergeant told them Lt. Whitney was off duty.
"Damn," Starsky said to Hutch. "I guess we should've called first."
"Care to leave him a message?" the sergeant asked.
"Do you know where he lives?" Hutch asked.
Starsky nodded. "Yeah. But in case we miss him – " He accepted a pad and pen from the desk sergeant and scribbled a note. He signed his full name and the sergeant whistled.
"You're Mike Starsky's Davy?"
"Yeah," Starsky said, his eyebrows rising. "You knew my dad?"
"Sure did. I was just a rookie then, but he was a legend around here. Still is. I'm Roy Carpenter. Pleased to meet ya." The sergeant offered his hand, and Starsky shook it with a smile and introduced Hutch.
"If I miss Bobby, you give him that note, will ya, and tell him I'm at Ma's. He's got the number."
"Sure thing, Davy."
"Guess we might as well go back to Ma's," Starsky said. "See if something comes through from the D.A. We can catch up to Bobby later."
They didn't hear from the D.A. that afternoon and just as it was getting dark, the phone rang. Starsky was nearest and he pounced on it.
"Davy?"
It was Vinnie. Starsky motioned frantically to Hutch, who ran into the kitchen and very gently picked up the extension to listen in. "Yeah, Vinnie. What's your scam now?"
"No scam, Davy. I got information you're gonna be real interested in. I know who killed your old man."
Starsky's heart momentarily froze in his chest. "I don't believe you," he said, trying to sound confident.
"Bullshit. You know it's the truth. And I'm willin' to tell ya the whole story. But you gotta meet me, tonight. Nine o'clock. I ain't tellin' ya nothin' on the phone."
"Where?" Starsky barked.
Vinnie gave him an address. "And don't bring the cavalry," he ordered. "Just you and that white bread partner o' yours. No one else. Or you don't get nothin' from me."
Starsky hung up and sat there, staring into space, until Hutch sat on the arm of his chair and gently nudged him. "Starsk? You think he's tellin' the truth?"
Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah, I do. I've been suspecting Vinnie knew more about Pop's murder than he let on. Just a hunch. Looks like maybe I was right."
Hutch reached across Starsky and picked up the receiver, but Starsky stopped him.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling Harris," Hutch said. "We're not going in there alone. Vinnie's got something up his sleeve. You know he does."
"Vinnie can't see 'em."
Hutch nodded, spoke briefly to Harris and made sure he understood how important it was for the backups to stay out of sight, and hung up. "Now, we wait, I guess."
Starsky called a cab at 8:30 and had the driver drop them off a block away from the address Vinnie had given him. It was in the warehouse district and deserted at this time of night.
"I don't like this," Hutch hissed.
"I don't, either," Starsky said. "I think that was the general idea."
They pulled their guns and checked to make sure they had extra ammo. As they approached the dark warehouse, they skirted the exterior and got the lay of the land. It wasn't promising. It was a large warehouse, with several entrances and a whole row of windows on the ground level. But the windows were blacked out and there was no way to guess how many people might be in there waiting for them.
They met back up at the front entrance and looked at each other. With a shrug, Starsky opened the door, which was already ajar. He kept his gun at the ready. "Vinnie?"
Hutch melted into the shadows behind some boxes so he could cover his partner. There was no answer to Starsky's call, and it was so dark in the warehouse that Hutch could barely even pick out Starsky. He saw Starsky move forward another cautious step and heard him draw breath to call again, when some instinct warned him. "Starsky!" he shouted, and Starsky instantly dropped to the ground and rolled behind a stack of cartons less than a heartbeat before several shots blasted through the air where he'd been standing.
Hutch returned fire, having to guess which way to shoot by the direction from which he'd heard the shots. When the echoes died, there was only silence.
"Hutch?"
"Right here," Hutch answered, ducking behind the boxes to join him and reload his weapon. "You think he's alone?"
"Don't know," Starsky said. "That was only one gun, but that doesn't mean there aren't reinforcements here someplace."
"What do you want to do?"
"Draw him out," Starsky said in that even tone that always made the hair on the back of Hutch's neck rise. It meant he was through messing around and he was going to take action, even if it was suicidally dangerous.
"Starsky – "
But Starsky rose, moving silently, and stepped out from behind the boxes. He turned to look at Hutch, and though Hutch couldn't see his face clearly, he definitely got the message. Get ready. Here it comes.
"Vinnie, you cowardly bastard!" Starsky yelled. "Come out and face me, you two-bit punk!" He dropped and slithered back behind the boxes as more shots rang out, from the same direction as before. "Just what I thought," Starsky whispered. "He's alone."
"You can't be sure of that."
"Yeah, I can. Don't ask me how I know. I just do." Starsky beckoned and started crawling, military style, on his belly across the floor toward the other side of the warehouse, ignoring the pain in his side. Hutch followed, finding it awkward to crawl with his gun in his hand, but putting it in the holster just wasn't an option at this point.
They had almost made it all the way across the warehouse to where a forklift was parked next to a stack of crates when Starsky bumped into a stack of cardboard boxes and knocked them down. Instantly the gunfire started again and Hutch felt a bullet whiz by uncomfortably close to his ear. Both he and Starsky returned fire and heard a squeal of pain.
"Got him!" Starsky scrambled to his feet and ran toward the sound, Hutch right behind him, and they found Vinnie behind the crates, clutching his right arm. Blood was flowing over his hand and soaking his shirtsleeve. Starsky kicked the gun away, toward Hutch. "You alone, Vinnie?"
"Yeah."
Vinnie didn't even try to resist as Starsky yanked him to his feet and glared at him. "That was a lousy trick, you bastard. Gimme your cuffs, Hutch."
"Wait! Davy, you gotta understand." Vinnie winced and pulled his right arm closer to his body.
"Understand what?" Starsky opened the cuffs and slapped them against one hand over and over again.
"I really do know who iced your old man," Vinnie said. "Can't we make a deal?"
Starsky glanced at Hutch. The light was better here, but Hutch wouldn't have needed to see his partner clearly to interpret that look. He gave an almost-imperceptible nod. Starsky turned back to Vinnie. "Maybe. Depends on what ya got."
Vinnie threw an appealing look at Hutch, who returned it icily. This was Starsky's show. Vinnie sighed. "Look, it was Daggett. Remember him?"
Starsky jerked his head once in the affirmative, his jaw tightening. "What'd Daggett have against Pop?"
"Your dad had evidence against Florenz," Vinnie said. "Good evidence. Woulda stood up in any court. And Florenz wanted it, but he knew he couldn't get it as long as Mike was breathin'. So he got Daggett to do him. He went to Joey Durniak first, but Joey tossed him out of his office and damn near put a contract out on him for even suggesting it."
Starsky glanced at Hutch again. "Keep talkin'. How do you know all this?"
Vinnie swallowed hard and sweat broke out on his face. "Daggett paid me to set it up."
"WHAT?" Starsky grabbed a handful of Vinnie's shirt and dragged him half off his feet. Hutch leaped forward and latched onto Starsky's arm.
"Easy, partner."
Vinnie was trembling. "I was just a kid, Davy, you gotta understand! He gave me fifty bucks, man. That was a fortune to me."
"What did you do?" Starsky spat the words at him.
"I got you outta the way and I told Daggett where Mike'd be." Vinnie was almost sobbing. "I didn't know you'd see it happen, Davy, honest, I didn't! You weren't s'posed to be there. You weren't s'posed to be anywhere near there!"
Starsky shoved Vinnie away from him. His hand shook a little as he slapped the cuffs on Vinnie, taking no care to be gentle with his wounded arm. Vinnie let out a little cry of pain as Starsky jerked that arm behind him to put the cuffs on. "You ain't gettin' no deal out of me, scum," Starsky said, his voice cold and quiet. "You set my dad up for a hit."
"Davy, listen!" Vinnie tried to twist around to look at Starsky, but couldn't because of the way Starsky had his arms pinned. "I can help you get to Daggett and maybe Florenz, too. But if you bust me now, they won't trust me. I know how they operate."
Behind him, Hutch’s quiet voice said, "Starsk. He may have a point there."
They were interrupted by the sounds of the backup units arriving behind them. When the uniformed officers found them, Lieutenant Harris accompanied them. He strolled up to the squirming, handcuffed Vinnie.
"Well, boys, what have we here? Vincent Martino. Vinnie. Naughty, naughty. You were shooting at these two fine officers. And them visitors from another city."
"Shove it, Harris!"
"Nice. Very nice. Gentlemen, congratulations."
Hutch said, "Just one complication. Vinnie here says he can help us get to the men who killed Starsky’s dad. He says he can help us catch the boss, too."
"That right, Vinnie?" Harris asked.
"Yeah, but not if you bust me. If you haul me in, they’ll know. They’ll never trust me."
Vinnie had been handed over to a couple of uniforms and Starsky and Hutch were both staring at Harris expectantly. Starsky said, "Lieutenant, my pop was one of your precinct’s finest. He died for the information this slime ball has been looking for all of these years."
Hutch said, "We have a chance to nail the guy who pulled the trigger. This scum here has already admitted to setting it up and we believe him."
Harris thought about it for a moment. Then, he told them, "All right. We’ll take this sterling specimen of humanity out of the district to get this gunshot wound treated. I’ll call the D.A. and see what’s what."
Starsky and Hutch nodded their thanks. Harris got on the portable radio he was carrying and started to give the orders that would make it all happen. They were all trailing out of the warehouse when his radio beeped.
"Harris."
"Lieutenant, the units staking out Mrs. Starsky’s place reported someone broke in there a short while ago and then left."
"Beautiful." Harris keyed the radio off and said, "Boys, if you want to go see if your evidence was retrieved, we’ll take care of Vinnie. I’ll call you there to let you know what’s up next."
"Great, thanks," Starsky said as he reached up to wipe his sweaty brow. He wasn’t feeling well, but he hadn’t given any thought to why.
"Starsky," Harris said, "are you all right? I thought you were recovering from a gunshot wound. Aren’t you supposed to be taking it easy?"
"I’m fine, just a little hot in here."
"Uh-huh. Well, get some rest. I’ll call you later."
Hot? Hutch thought. He had on a jacket and was still cold. Hutch steered his partner out of the warehouse, suddenly realizing that the likelihood of them catching a taxi in this neighborhood, this late in the evening, was almost nonexistent. One of the unmarked cars gave the two men a ride back to Mrs. Starsky’s home.
Although they had left a light on in the front room, all the lights were off now. They entered the home cautiously, turning on lights and ensuring that the watching cops were correct, whoever had broken in earlier was gone. When they were certain, they went to the buffet. As they had hoped, leaving one drawer slightly open had drawn the hoped for attention. The drawers were all pulled out and spilled onto the floor. The evidence was missing.
"Bingo," Starsky said.
"Well, they have it now. Who’s they, though?" Hutch asked. He walked into the kitchen to get the teakettle going.
"My money’s on Vinnie. He knew we’d be outta the house. He probably planned to kill us and then he’d have all the time he needed to toss the place. Just in case, he sent his boys over to Ma’s while he had us occupied. He’s still tryin’ to get the goods for Dagget...." Starsky stopped abruptly, grabbing on to the back of a dining room chair for support, and sucking in a short gasp as the color started to drain from his face.
"What?"
When Starsky didn’t answer him, he came back to the dining room, finding Starsky breathing heavily and clutching a chair. "Hey!" Starsky had moved his right hand to his side, and Hutch had to pull it away to take a look.
"You seem to be leaking a little, buddy," Hutch said. "You all right?"
Starsky nodded, but he let Hutch help him down into a chair and look at his wound. Hutch thought it looked all right and the bleeding was minimal. After Starsky got his breathing under control, he said, "Damn. Guess that crawl-through-the-trenches maneuver was a little too much, huh?"
"Maybe. Just breathe easy. You need me to get your pain pills?"
"No. I’m not gonna take anything to put me out of it. Not now."
"Starsk...."
"No. Not open for discussion."
"Okay, okay. Take it easy for a while, though, will ya? You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah, go make your tea."
Starsky’s mind raced through thoughts about what might happen next. He wasn’t sure how to feel about knowing who had killed his father. Knowing he had been lured out of the way did little to assuage his long-standing sense of guilt that things might have happened differently if he had been there. How was he supposed to explain all of this to his mother? His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the kettle whistling. He heard Hutch pouring the water.
"Hutch?"
"What?"
"I shoulda been where I was supposed to be."
Hutch came back from the kitchen with two cups of tea. Setting one in front of his partner, he said, "Starsky, you were just a little boy."
"Practically a man."
Hutch sat down in a chair beside him and scooted it close enough to put an arm around his friend’s shoulders. "No, you were a little boy. Just twelve years old. That’s not practically anything. Like I said before, you see all of this differently now. You’re grown."
Starsky shook his head and closed his eyes. The image of his father bleeding to death in his arms seemed to be all he could see. "They weren’t supposed to burn me. If I’d been there, maybe...."
"If you’d been there, Dagget would have killed you. If he didn’t, he just would’ve waited for another chance. Your dad was a marked man. Nothing you did, or didn’t do, would have changed that."
********
After Vinnie’s superficial gunshot wound was treated, he met with Lieutenant Harris, who had managed to get the District Attorney to meet him to discuss the situation, despite the lateness of the hour. Tom Harrald was as anxious to get the men involved in this decades old conspiracy safely behind bars as Harris was. He agreed to recommend reduced charges for Vinnie in return for his assistance capturing Dagget, and for testimony against Florenz. Harrald said he’d consider dropping the charges for Mrs. Starsky’s kidnapping, and the attempt on Starsky and Hutchinson’s lives at the warehouse, if Vinnie gave him enough names to make sure all of the dirty government officials he could get his hands on would pay for their crimes.
"What about what went down in California?" Vinnie was smart enough to know he could still be extradited and put away for two attempts on Hutch’s life, and possibly breaking and entering and assault on a police officer – if they could prove he was the one who had broken into Starsky’s home.
"I can’t promise what the DA in another state is gonna do, Vinnie. You know that. You should consider yourself lucky you’ll be off the hook for most of what went down out here. We’re not even going to discuss accessory to the murder of a New York City police officer. You know there’s no statute of limitations on a murder, don’t you, Vinnie? I suggest you start cooperating, before I start drawing up the charges for your arraignment."
Harris put a hand up to interrupt the flow of the conversation. He leaned over the table, glaring at Vinnie, and said, "Let me make one thing crystal clear, Martino. If you do ANYTHING to tip off anyone involved in this mess, or if you or your goons do ANYTHING to harm Starsky or Hutchinson, your ass is mine. I don’t care what kind of deal you think you’re striking here. All bets will be off, you got that?"
Vinnie nodded, swallowing nervously.
"That goes for Starsky’s mom and his brother, too. No funny business. Not even the hint of any. Bad enough you fingered one of New York’s finest for a hit. Don’t tempt me to find a way to throw you in the slammer in the deepest, darkest, most foul hole I can find."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it!" Vinnie snapped. Seeing his point was taken, Harris sat back, and gestured to the DA to continue the negotiation.
Starsky had been resting for three hours when the phone finally rang. Harris laid out the plan for catching Dagget and Starsky listened with interest. He hung up the phone, leaving his hand resting on it for a few moments, staring at it.
"Starsk?"
"Never in a million years, Hutch."
Hutch knew what he meant. In all the years that had passed since his partner watched his father die, Starsky had never dared to imagine he’d ever find out what really happened. Now, he not only knew, he was being given the chance to bring the men who killed him to justice. The feeling was almost more than he could bear. Hutch could see the play of emotions across Starsky’s face.
"I know, buddy." Hutch exchanged a supportive look with Starsky. "What, where, and when?"
"Vinnie’s already been turned loose to collect the evidence from his goons. He’s going over to Dagget’s bolthole in about an hour – with a wire. They don’t want to wait till tomorrow. ‘Fraid that’ll look too pat." Starsky went to the front window and peeked out at the street with a chuckle. "You suppose the unmarked officers, Vinnie’s goons, and Dagget’s bunch know they’re all out there watching this place?"
"Probably not. Sure is a lot of attention for a harmless older lady and her home."
"Really. I’m surprised there’s anywhere out there left to park with all of the late model, dark color sedans on the street."
"How’re we gonna get to the meet without being made? Vinnie and Dagget have got guys covering the back, too. I checked out the dining room window before I took a nap."
Hutch shrugged and thought for a few moments. "I’ve got it." He explained his idea and they put it into action.
Twenty minutes later, a cab pulled up in front of the Starsky home and honked. Hutch opened the front door and helped his injured partner out onto the stoop while he turned to lock the door. He threw Starsky’s left arm over his shoulder and put his right arm around Starsky’s waist, pushing back the jacket he wore just enough to reveal a spreading dark stain on the front of his shirt. They stumbled down the stairs together to the waiting taxi. The cabbie had seen them and he had gotten out to open the door for the two men. Just as they reached the cab, Starsky groaned and collapsed against Hutch. Between Hutch and the cabbie, they got Starsky loaded onto the back seat of the taxi, and Hutch started screaming for him to hurry and get them to the hospital. The taxi sped off, and two of the dark colored sedans pulled out to follow.
When they reached County, Hutch threw some money at the driver with a clipped, "Keep the change." He helped his now semi-conscious, staggering partner out of the cab and into the Emergency Room. They kept it up until they were well out of sight of the doors, and then Starsky suddenly revived and he pointed the way to the stairs that led down to underground parking.
Even though he’d been faking being so out of it, Starsky still painfully felt every jolt as they ran down the stairs to the waiting car. They barreled out of the stairwell and met Harris standing next to a dark blue cargo van.
"What if they go in and check?" Harris asked as he gave Starsky a hand up into the van. He knew it was a sham, but Starsky’s appearance did have him a little worried.
"They won’t. Even if they do, it’s a madhouse in there tonight. Must be a full moon."
Hutch added, "A guy could get lost in the paperwork shuffle for hours in there. It’ll all be over before they figure out they’ve been had."
Harris directed the driver to leave the parking garage at a casual pace. They headed for the condemned office building where Dagget and his gang were waiting for Vinnie. Another man was in the back of the van, setting up the equipment. He was introduced to the two visiting detectives as "Tap."
"Tap’s the best wire man on Earth, gentleman. You are in the presence of a master."
"Ah, get outta here, Lieutenant," the embarrassed man said. He shook hands with Starsky and Hutch. "I hear we’re gonna bust some’a the guys who murdered your old man, Starsky. You can trust me. If they say it, I’ll get it on tape."
"Fair enough, Tap. Thanks."
Starsky looked at Hutch anxiously, silently communicating his need to speak with the lieutenant about the bust.
Hutch lifted his eyebrows, thinking, Ask him.
Starsky shook his head slightly.
Hutch jerked his head toward Harris, You won’t get if you don’t ask.
Harris said, "What’s with the big, silent confab, boys? Do I have ring around the collar or something?"
Starsky and Hutch both laughed at the reference. "No," Starsky said. "I just... Well, I was hoping, maybe...."
"You were hoping I’d let you make the arrest?"
Harris was good. Hutch smiled at him appreciatively. "Something like that," he said.
Starsky looked so hopeful. Harris studied his face for a moment. Then, he turned to Hutch. "He’s your partner. Can he handle it?"
A flash of anger rose in Starsky. "I’m right here, why don’t you ask me?"
"Starsky," Harris said, turning to face him, "if this were my old man’s killer, I’m not sure I could handle it. Can you make this bust without losin’ it?"
"Yes." Starsky offered no more words aimed to convince the other officer – just one simple truth from his heart. He knew he could do it. Starsky would do nothing to jeopardize the situation. He wanted justice.
When Harris looked back over at him, Hutch nodded his concurrence.
"All right. When the time comes, you put on the cuffs. Hutchinson, you keep a tight rein on him. I know you think you can, Starsky, but nobody’s gonna be surprised if you lose your objectivity in the end."
"Fair enough. You can trust Blondie here. He’s sort of a Starsky temper expert."
"Damn straight," Hutch said. The slight smile he offered was meant to convey his belief and trust in his partner.
The meeting didn’t start on the hour. Harris thought it would look too staged that way. At ten minutes past, Vinnie came strolling up the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette. He disappeared into the building and the attending officers held their collective breath. If this worked, the results would bring down an infamous hit man – and bring them within one step of closing the books on the twenty-two year old murder of one of their own.
After the door shut behind him, they heard Vinnie say, "Yo, Dagget."
"Yo, Vinnie." The other man’s voice sounded wary – slightly distant.
"We got it, Dagget." Vinnie held out the envelope for Dagget to take. The other man casually lit a cigarette, then took the envelope and started to inspect the contents.
"Nice, Vinnie. Very nice."
In the van, the tape recorder was going. All of the men inside were nervously listening.
"What if he tips him?" Hutch asked.
"Believe me, he wouldn’t dare," Harris answered.
Inside the office building, two of Dagget’s men stepped in front of the closed door, behind Vinnie.
"You didn’t torch the place."
"N-no, Dom. We found the evidence, so we figured why take the risk’a getting caught."
"We found the evidence?"
"Well, my boys did. While I had those two idiot cops tied up over at the warehouse."
"You didn’t kill them either, did you?"
"No. I couldn’t. They had my numba. Place was crawlin’ with pigs. I was real lucky to get outta there without getting busted."
Dagget walked toward Vinnie with a threatening glare. "Did you?"
Vinnie was sweating and squirming, "What’re ya talkin’, did I? I got back to my hideout, met the boys, got the stuff there and came to meet ya."
"Sure took your time. ‘S been hours, Vinnie."
"I hadda be real careful, ‘case I was followed, you dig?"
The men in the van held their breath again, praying Dagget was going to buy it, so they could get the information on Mike Starsky’s murder. They already had him admitting, on tape, that he’d ordered the death of Starsky and Hutch, and the arson destruction of Mrs. Starsky’s home.
"You look at what was in this envelope, Vinnie?"
"What’re ya kiddin’? Course I did! I been lookin’ for that practically since the day it happened."
"Yeah, I know, Vinnie. Florenz and I ordered ya to do just that."
Dagget circled around behind Vinnie and said, "Did you know, now that I have these pictures, you did me a big favor. The senator will be... appropriately grateful. He always has been. But this presents me with a problem."
Swallowing hard enough to be picked up by the wire, Vinnie said, "What’s that, Dom?"
Tap looked at Harris. "Maybe you better call it. Sounds like your stoolie is in trouble."
Harris shook his head. "No. Give it a while longer. I want to hear him say it."
Dagget continued, "Now that Joey Durniak is dead, and Florenz sure as hell ain’t gonna talk about a hit he ordered, you are the only one left that can really finger me. Did ya know that, Vinnie? Huh?"
Starsky’s eyes flashed at that comment, but Harris put up a hand as if to say, "Just a little longer."
"Aw, come on, Dom. I ain’t told nobody the truth about Mike Starsky’s murder in all these years. Why would I now?"
The men in the van heard a sound through the speakers that Starsky recognized as the distinctive snick of a switchblade being opened. "Because you’re a weasel, Vinnie. Killin’ that cop was one’a the highlights of my career, but I can’t have you around knowin’ about it."
"That’s it, let’s go!" Harris said. Hutch slid open the van door and the three men jumped out onto the street.
As they headed up the stairs into the building, Starsky heard a small army of other officers running down the sidewalk to join them. Harris was in the lead, followed by Hutch, who was determined his partner wasn’t going in before he did. He shot an anxious glance over his shoulder, wishing he could tell if the wetness on Starsky’s shirt was from the job they did making it look like Starsky needed a ride to the hospital, or if it could be that his wound was really leaking again.
Harris stood to one side of the door they knew the criminals were behind and Hutch to the other. Starsky stood on the top step, praying the desperate men didn’t try the same stunt that had gotten him tagged the other night. Not while his partner was so vulnerable.
Hutch banged on the door with the Magnum and Harris shouted, "Police, open up!"
After some swearing, they heard glass shattering, as the men broke the window to the fire escape. Uniforms were already out there – they had nowhere to go.
Through the door, the men in the hall heard, "Police, freeze!"
Hutch kicked the door open and he and Harris went into the room, guns sweeping it. Starsky ran behind them, just in time to see Vinnie fall to the ground. Dagget’s switchblade slid neatly out of his chest as he fell. One of the uniforms checked him, shaking his head to tell them there was no need for an ambulance.
Dagget and Starsky looked at each other. Starsky’s resemblance to his father was striking and for a heart stopping moment, Hutch feared Dagget might throw that knife at his partner.
"Drop it, Dagget!" he shouted. When Dagget didn’t comply, Hutch warned again, "Drop it now, or I’ll shoot!"
Dagget let the knife drop to the floor and raised his hands. Harris turned and passed a pair of handcuffs to Starsky, who quietly accepted them and holstered his weapon. Never breaking eye contact with Dagget, Starsky stalked toward him like a jaguar ready to pounce. The heat from his stare was enough to make even Hutch flinch. He glared at Dagget with such silent, fiery intensity, the other man finally looked away from his smoldering gaze. Starsky reached Dagget, and spun him roughly around. Then, he shoved the much larger man toward the wall and hissed, "What’d you kill him for?"
Dagget smiled an evil smile. "I’m already goin’ down for your old man. No way a piece ‘a shit like Vinnie was gonna live after bringin’ me down."
"Assume the position. Spread ‘em," Starsky ordered as he kicked Dagget’s feet farther apart and frisked him.
In a calm, measured, but ultra menacing tone, Starsky read the charges and read his prisoner his rights.
"Dominick 'The Dagger' Dagget. You are under arrest for the murder of New York City police officer Michael Aaron Starsky in January 1956. Other charges will be read to you at the station. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law...."
Daggett listened, impassive, until Starsky finished and spun him back around to hand him over to the nearest New York officer. Then he sneered, "You can't prove nothin'."
"Wanna bet?" Harris grabbed his arm and started toward the door. "We just taped your conversation with Vinnie. He was wired. We've got proof, all right. And wait till we tell you all the other things we have proof of. You're going down for a good long time."
Daggett paled a little, but didn't lose much of his bravado.
Starsky and Hutch went along to the precinct for the questioning. Losing Vinnie as a witness was a blow, Harris told them privately while Dagget was being processed in, but the tape and Mrs. Starsky's testimony about being kidnapped by Vinnie would help repair some of that damage.
In the interrogation room, Dagget leaned back in the chair and in spite of the handcuffs and the situation, seemed quite at home.
Tap had brought the tape and played it for the hit man. Dagget pretended he had no interest in it, but his jaw clenched when he heard his own voice saying the damning words, "Killin' that cop was one a' the highlights of my career...."
"You see," Harris said, leaning forward in a friendly manner, "we got ya cold." Dagget gave a shrug. "So, whattya want from me? A tearful confession? You don't look like no priest to me."
"What we want," Harris said, "is Senator Florenz."
Dagget shook his head. "Don't know him."
"Bullshit!" Starsky half rose, but Hutch yanked him back down into his seat and kept a hand on his arm.
"As my colleague said," Harris remarked with a grin, "that's bullshit. You work for the man. We've got evidence – Mike Starsky's evidence, including photos – that Florenz and Durniak had regular meetings."
"You've got photos?" Dagget's bravado slipped, just a little.
"You think we left them all at Mrs. Starsky's for you to find?" Harris shook his head. "You don't have a very high opinion of our intelligence, Mr. Dagget. We planted those," he tapped the envelope, "for you to find. We kept the best ones for ourselves, of course."
Dagget began to sweat.
"So unless you want to take the fall for a paid hit on a cop all by yourself, you'd better consider cooperating. Vinnie's dead. And unless we can get Florenz as the money man, it's all yours, Dom." Harris leaned back, lit a cigarette, and casually took a sip of his coffee. Starsky and Hutch remained silent, though Hutch could feel his partner's arm trembling under his hand.
It took several minutes of that silence, with Dagget's eyes going from the envelope to Starsky's face to Harris' and back, before he said, "He'll kill me."
"Maybe," Harris said. "But I doubt it. He'd have to get his own hands dirty and that he ain't about to do. What's it gonna be, Dom?"
"I want a deal."
Harris shrugged. "We can probably work something out. Say, life with parole instead of life without it?"
"That ain't good enough."
"You’re just lucky you pulled some of this shit out here instead of in California, scum. We’ve got the death penalty back in place out there!" Hutch growled.
Harris suddenly dropped his casual act and threw himself forward on the table to glare directly into Dagget's eyes. "That's the best you can hope for, Dagget. No matter what happens. Have you forgotten the California charges? Attempted murder of a police officer? Dealing heroin? Shall I go on?"
"You can't prove – " Dagget stopped at the dangerous light he saw in Starsky's eyes.
"Yes, we can," Starsky said. "Vinnie sang like a little canary and we got a signed affidavit."
"Vinnie's dead."
"He wasn't when he signed the affidavit," Harris said.
Dagget looked from one to the other of them for a few more moments. "Okay," he said at last. "I'll help ya get Florenz."
Harris reached over for the phone and set it in front of him. "Set up a meet. We're gonna wire ya, like we did Vinnie, and you'd better pull this off, Dom, or your ass is forfeit. Here's what you're gonna say."
Dagget listened to Harris' instructions and finally swallowed and nodded. He picked up the phone and dialed. Tap had already set up equipment to record the call and the officers gathered around the recorder on the other side of the room to listen. "Mark? It's Dom."
Through the speakers, turned low so Florenz wouldn't hear them in the background, the senator's voice snarled, "I told you not to call me here unless it was an emergency!"
"I know," Dagget said, his whole attitude changed from what the officers had seen. Now he was a cringing, whining lackey. "But it is an emergency."
"Well, what is it?" Florenz sounded impatient.
"Vinnie's dead, Mark."
"What!"
"He's dead."
"What the hell happened?"
"Not on the phone." Dagget managed to inject just the right note of caution and distress into his voice. "Meet me. I'll tell you the whole story in person."
Florenz sighed. "Okay, okay. When?"
"Now, man. The heat is on, you dig?"
"Where?"
"My place. I think it's still safe."
"All right. Twenty minutes."
Dagget hung up and looked at Harris.
"That was just fine, Dom," Harris said with a big grin. "Tap, you wanna take care of wiring our fine friend here?"
"Sure, Lieutenant. Come on, Dom." Tap took the criminal's arm and left the room, followed closely by the uniformed guard.
"Won't be long now," Harris said to Starsky. "You want the bust on Florenz, too? I'd be happy to give it to ya."
"Yeah," Starsky said grimly. "I want it."
Starsky and Hutch went ahead to hide out in Dagget's offices. He had a large walk-in closet with a false back wall so he could have his bodyguards always nearby but out of sight. Harris and a couple of his uniformed officers hid in the next room with Tap downstairs in a van with the recording equipment. Dagget sat at his desk, the envelope with the photos inside in front of him.
Florenz was a few minutes later than he'd said he would be. But when he walked in, he was furious. "What the hell happened to Vinnie?" he demanded without even greeting Dagget.
"I sent him after those cops from Bay City, Mike's boy and his partner, just like you told me to," Dagget said.
"And what happened?"
"They killed him. He blew it, tried to take 'em both down by himself, and they got him."
"Dammit!" Florenz slammed his hand onto the desk and threw himself into a chair. "So we still don't have the evidence."
"Yeah, we do," Dagget said. He pushed the envelope across the desk to Florenz.
"Right there. It was at the old lady's house all along, just like we thought. Me and some of the boys found it after Vinnie didn't come back."
Florenz eagerly pounced on the envelope and opened it, drawing out the half dozen photographs and going over them carefully. He let out a breath. "Finally. Now nobody can ever finger me with Joe Durniak. I thought this was all taken care of years ago when Durniak died and no evidence was found. Now to find out Mike Starsky really had hidden evidence – "
"Kinda wasted our time killin' him, didn't we, since he had this stuff?"
Florenz raised his head and glared at Dagget. "'We' didn't kill him, Dom. You did."
"On your orders," Dagget said. "Why should I care if Mike Starsky had pictures of you with Joey? No skin off my nose. I ain't got a political career to think of."
"But I do," Florenz said, narrowing his eyes. "And now that I have the evidence against me, I don't need you any more. I can't have you running to the cops telling them I had you kill Mike Starsky. They might believe you."
"You did have me kill him," Dagget said, outwardly calm, though Starsky, peering through a peephole at him, could see a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead.
"And you had me send Vinnie after his son."
"Vinnie failed."
"I didn't."
"No. You didn't. But you didn't get that brat kid of his and you didn't get the evidence back for over 20 years!"
"But I did get it," Dagget said. "So you wanted me to kill Davy even then? When he was just a kid? Why?"
"He looks too much like his father," Florenz said, his voice shaking with anger. "Damned punk. Mike Starsky could've ruined my life and I didn't want any reminders of him around. I told you, kill the old man and kill the kid, too. But you didn't do it." Suddenly Florenz pulled a gun from his suit jacket pocket. "Now it's your turn."
Without waiting for Harris' signal, Starsky and Hutch burst through the closet and drew down on Florenz. "Freeze!" Starsky commanded him.
Florenz started to raise the gun toward Starsky, but the glittering fury in Hutch's eyes and the size of the gun he was pointing at him, holding it almost in his ear, changed his mind. He dropped the gun. Hutch gestured to Starsky, who yanked his cuffs out and threw the senator over Dagget's desk.
By then, Harris and the other officers were in the room, re-cuffing Dagget. In a few moments, it was over.
It was almost dawn before Starsky and Hutch finished giving depositions and got back to the house and could go to bed. Both were wound up but also exhausted, and it was late in the morning before either of them stirred. Starsky was up first.
He had a call to make.
"Hi, Aunt Ruth. It's Davy."
"Davy! Are you all right? What happened?"
"It's all over," he said. "Will you put Ma on, please?"
Hutch walked into the kitchen, yawning, just as Rachel came to the phone.
Starsky nodded a "good morning," gestured at the coffee pot they’d dredged up from the basement, and said, "Ma? We got 'em. We got 'em all. With enough evidence to put 'em away."
Rachel gasped and he could hear the tears in her voice. "Are you all right, baby?"
"Yeah. We are. It's safe to come home now. We even cleaned up the house," he added with an attempt at a light tone.
Hutch glanced around at the still-trashed room and raised his eyebrows at his partner, who gave a shrug and a half-grin and clearly communicated, We'll clean it up before she gets back.
"Are you sure you're all right, Davy?"
"Yeah, Ma. Really. I'll tell ya all about it when you and Nicky get home."
They spent the afternoon cleaning up the house and resting up, and the next morning, when Rachel and Nick returned, Starsky told his mother and brother the whole story, every detail, from what had happened when he was a child to what had happened in Bay City. Rachel listened with tears in her eyes most of the time, her hand clasped in her son's, but she didn't stop him or interrupt until he was finished.
"My God," she said, putting her arms around him and pulling his head down onto her shoulder. "My God, Davy. What a burden for you to carry. I never realized...."
"Ma, it wasn't your fault," he said, kissing her cheek. "And you did the best thing for me you could possibly have done when you sent me to live with Rose and Al. If I'd stayed here, I mighta become what Vinnie was. Instead," he sat up straight and glanced at Hutch, "I tried to become a man Pop woulda been proud of."
"You didn't 'try'," she said gently, stroking his curls. "You did it. Mike would say so himself if he could."
********
It was quiet in the cemetery, with only the sound of an occasional bird twittering as the rays of the setting sun slanted through the trees. Hutch hung back as Starsky, carrying a fistful of flowers and wearing a yarmulke, approached the stone bearing the name "Starsky."
Starsky knelt in the grass and laid the flowers on the base of the stone. "Hiya, Pop. It's me, Davy."
Hutch's eyes burned as he watched. Starsky had insisted he come along, though he wouldn't let his mother or brother accompany him. This was the first time he'd been to his father's grave since the funeral and he'd told Hutch he wasn't sure how it would affect him. He didn't want his mother or Nick to see him if he broke down. Hutch was oddly touched by that – Starsky didn't mind if Hutch saw him break down.
Starsky simply knelt there in silence for several minutes, looking at the headstone. "Michael Aaron Starsky, 1920-1956" was all that was there. "You and me're about the same age now, Pop," Starsky said softly. "That was too young to die. You never got to see me or Nicky grow up. You missed our graduations and everything. But Ma done her best, Pop, she really did."
So far, Starsky's voice was steady. Hutch drew a little closer, to be nearby in case Starsky needed him.
Starsky bowed his head and chanted something under his breath, so softly Hutch couldn't catch more than a word here and there. It sounded like Hebrew and, realizing it must be a prayer, Hutch bowed his head, too, and closed his eyes. It didn't matter whether he understood the words. He understood the feeling behind the words. When Starsky lifted his head again, Hutch saw him reach out and place a small stone on the grave marker.
"I got him for ya, Pop," Starsky said when he finished the prayer. "I got the man who pulled the trigger and I got the man who paid him to do it. Me and Hutch did it together, Pop. Remember how you told me a man's partner is the most important person in his life? You were right, Pop. You were right."
Now, Starsky's voice was shaking and though his back was toward Hutch, he knew there were tears in Starsky's eyes.
"I miss ya, Pop. God, you'd never realize how bad I miss ya. Every day. I have so many things I want to tell you. I wish you could see me now. I hope you'd be proud of me. I tried to grow up good. It wasn't easy." Starsky drew a deep, shuddering breath and Hutch saw him reach up and wipe a tear away. Without thinking, he knelt next to Starsky and put an arm around him. Starsky didn't look at him, but he didn't shrug him off, either.
"I gotta go, Pop. I just wanted to tell ya ... " He paused, reached out and gently traced the letters that spelled "Starsky" on the stone. " ... I love you. I'm trying to live up to the name you gave me." He rose, with Hutch gently steadying him, and finally met Hutch's eyes. They were wet, but he was back in control. "Let's go."
********
The detectives had received a phone call from Lieutenant Bob Whitney, asking them to meet him down at the station prior to the senator’s arraignment. He said he had some important information for them. Now that the senator, Dagget, and most of their henchmen were in the lockup, Starsky was hoping Whitney had more damning evidence against them.
Whitney invited the other two men to join him in an interrogation room where they could have some privacy. Over coffee, the lieutenant explained the purpose of his phone call.
"Davy, when you left me that message, I didn’t know what to say to you. After all of this time, how could I help? Now, seeing you sitting there... damn if you don’t look just like him. He was about your age, you know...."
Starsky cut him off by saying, "I know. Everyone says that."
"Sorry, Davy. I just... well, it’s been a long time."
"I know. Is there anything you can tell us that will help the case?"
Bobby looked at the floor for a moment. "I don’t know how to tell you all of this. David, your dad was working alone on that case. I know you probably don’t remember any of this, but about a month before he died, I was shot at a break in. They assigned your pop to do the surveillance while I was laid up."
Starsky shook his head and said, "I don’t remember, Bobby. I’m sorry."
"Listen, um, our captain assigned him to the case. Some stuff that was happening with building contracts, liquor licenses, and such clued the department in that a local political bigwig had to have been taking bribes from one of the families. They didn’t know which boss it was and they weren’t sure which politician, either. While I was out, your pop gathered a lot of evidence. He wouldn’t tell me much – said he had to make sure before he went and popped off about it. That day he died was my first back on duty. We were gonna stop by your house so he could show me what he had. Mike said he was just about ready to take it to the captain." Bobby stopped and suddenly looked uncomfortable.
"What is it? Go on," Starsky said.
"Maybe I shouldn’t. I just thought... You never heard the details of what happened. Do you want to know? ‘S not like it makes any difference now."
Hutch said, "Good point, Starsk. You sure you want to hear this part?"
Starsky nodded. "I’m going to put all of this to bed, Hutch. If I’m gonna do that, I have to know everything. Thanks, Bobby, but go ahead."
"We looked for you at the gym, but you weren’t there. Mike said we should just head over to your place and maybe we’d catch up to you on the way. We had just crossed the street to go over to your house when we heard ‘em. They came barreling around the corner in a black, ‘49 Packard with dark windows. I never really saw ‘em good. The shooter had on a ski mask and it was gettin’ pretty dark. They rounded the corner and headed our way. I was standing in front of your pop. He yelled for me to get down and I guess I didn’t move fast enough to suit him. He pushed me to the ground and tried to draw his gun. The whole thing was too fast, though. So fast. Mike never even got his gun out of its holster."
Hutch glanced at Starsky, making sure he was handling all of this information all right. Starsky nodded at him, but his mouth was tight and he had that intensity in his gaze that set suspects on edge. Hutch picked his hand up off the table a short way and made a brief, understated "keep cool" movement with it.
Bobby paused to drink some coffee, the cup shaking in his nervous hands. "I could hear someone in the car yelling something like ‘where’s the kid’ and the shooter shouts back, ‘dunno, but I ain’t killin’ no kid’ right before I heard the car door slam. I’ll never forget it. By this time, I was up off the ground with my gun in my hand. I ran into the street and took a couple’a shots at ‘em. Then I ran back to Mike. He had three slugs in his chest and there was so much blood I knew he’d never make it to the hospital. People started comin’ out of their houses and the next thing I knew, you were there, Davy. You shoulda never seen that."
"But I did see it, Bobby." Starsky took a deep breath. The shooting was long ago, but reliving it through Lieutenant Whitney’s eyes made the pain and the memories fresh. Starsky absentmindedly touched the rings that linked him to his dad. "Did they ever find the car?"
"Yeah, they found it a few days later, abandoned. Naturally, the car was stolen and it had been wiped clean. Two slugs from my gun were embedded in it."
Hutch had remained quiet, but he had some questions of his own. "Bobby, why did the investigation stop?"
"Stop? What makes you think it stopped?" Bobby’s tone was defensive and he regretted it. "I’m sorry, it’s just... Look at your partner sittin’ there, Hutchinson." Hutch looked at him with slight confusion. "Just do it, really look at him."
Hutch looked at Starsky, trying to figure out where this was going. "Okay, I’m looking."
"Now put yourself in my shoes for just a minute. Imagine Davy just got gunned down in front of you, protecting your ass, by the way. Nothin’ you could do. Wouldn’t you go to the ends of the Earth, do whatever it took to find the guys who blew him away?"
Hutch got a chill thinking about it and it showed. Starsky kept his face from revealing anything about how he felt but, under the table, he moved his foot closer to his partner until he touched Hutch’s shoe. The look he gave Hutch was full of promises and reassurance, this ain’t me we’re talkin’ about, and that’s not gonna happen. I’m fine. You’re fine.
"Yeah, Bobby, I would do that. So what happened?" Hutch asked, after he was able to turn his eyes away from the mental image of his partner being gunned down in front of him.
"Nothing. I investigated, followed every lead, tried to find out what Mike had, searched the house, and I drew a big blank. The neighborhood was sealed up tight. Durniak was bristlin’ because some other goons had killed Mike. He may have suspected Dagget, but didn’t have enough to go after him. For some reason, Joey always had respect for Mike. Nobody was talkin’. Whoever it was being bribed, they got real careful. After about six months, they pulled me off and the case just died. I tried to follow up on my own, but it was just impossible without support from the department. The other partners they assigned to me hated me and thought I was dangerous. Eventually, I got hurt again and I requested to move in off the streets. Guess I knew I’d never want another partner again."
They continued to discuss the case and what had happened with Bobby for a while. When they were talked out, the men stood and shook hands. The lieutenant wished them well and told Starsky to be careful. Before walking out of the room, Bobby tugged on Hutch’s arm and asked to see him alone for a minute.
Starsky went to see Lieutenant Harris while Hutch listened to Bobby again. "I can see you two are tight partners, just like me and Mike were. You take real good care of Davy for me. You only get lucky enough to have a partner like Mike once in a lifetime. If Davy’s half the man his old man was...."
"He is, that and much more. He’s my best friend, Bobby. Keepin’ an eye on him is part of what I do."
********
After the arraignment, Harris pulled Starsky and Hutch aside in the courtroom. He said, "I hear there’s a throng of reporters outside. You up to facing them, or do you want us to get you out another way?"
"Don’t know what we have to say to ‘em, but it’s okay," Starsky answered.
"They know we can’t say anything about the case, but I think they’d like the chance to talk to you."
Hutch said, "You don’t have to do this, Starsk."
"Naw, I’d rather talk to ‘em. They might try and bug Ma or Nicky if we don’t. Anything for a sensational story, right?"
They walked out of the courtroom, Lieutenant Harris in the lead. He stepped out of the building onto the steps with Starsky and Hutch right behind him. Cameras whirred and flashbulbs flashed. Dealing with reporters was not high on either detective’s "things I like to do" list.
Harris put a hand up to shush the crowd of reporters. "I’d like to make a statement. As you know, we are not able to answer questions about the arraignment, or the case against the accused. Detectives David Starsky and Ken Hutchinson behind me are available to answer general questions."
The reporters started shouting questions again and Harris put up his hands. "Wait, before I turn the visiting officers over to you, I have something to say. The events for which the suspects stand accused took place a long time ago. The case has been unsolved for many years. Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson provided the final pieces needed to solve this crime. In cooperation with the NYPD, these two officers provided invaluable information. Their investigatory skills and good old fashioned detective work helped to break this case open and the NYPD is in their debt."
Starsky and Hutch looked at each other, sharing the same thoughts. For Lieutenant Harris to give them credit in a public forum, even though they deserved it, took them completely by surprise. Hutch nodded at Starsky. They both knew he was the one the reporters wanted to interview. Starsky stepped forward and started fielding their questions.
The rapid-fire questions were confusing, but Starsky pointed at a reporter near the front of the pack and she asked, "Detective Starsky, how did you know the Senator was involved in these illegal activities?"
"No comment," he answered. The reporter who had just asked the question looked exasperated, almost like she hoped he would accidentally give her some information he shouldn’t give.
Starsky listened to the succession of questions, glancing from face to face, hoping to hear one worth answering.
"Detective Starsky, when did you first suspect...."
"Detective Starsky, will you and your partner be back to testify...."
"Detective Starsky, did Senator Florenz make any statements when...."
"Detective Starsky, how does it feel to solve your father’s murder?"
Hutch knew that was the question when his partner’s stance changed. Starsky turned to pick out the speaker. He pointed at a young woman near the middle of the pack and asked her to repeat her question.
"Kelly Johnson, New York Times," she said. "How does it feel to solve your father’s murder?"
Starsky paused and reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. The reporters stared at him intently as he opened it and withdrew a picture. He held up the well-worn black and white photo of his eight-year-old self, standing next to his father in uniform. They looked happy together and his resemblance to his dad caused a slight murmur in the front of the crowd from the people with the best view. The television camera crews from the local news programs zoomed in on the photo.
"My father, Michael Starsky, was a New York City police officer. Twenty-two years ago, he was gunned down on the street, the victim of a paid hit. Finally, the men responsible for his death are coming to justice. How does it feel? It doesn’t bring him back. That’s how it feels, but I hope he’s resting easier now." Starsky put the picture back and turned away from the reporters. That was all he intended to or wanted to say.
Harris and some uniformed officers pushed their way through the crowd to get Starsky and Hutch into a waiting car. The driver took them straight to the airport, where Rachel and Nick Starsky were waiting to say goodbye.
"Did you talk to Captain Dobey this morning, Davy?"
"Yes, Ma. Everything’s fine out there." Starsky smiled at his mother.
"I mean, did they find...."
"Yes, Ma. They caught the guy who threw that grenade into Hutch’s place. Busted him last night on a hot tip." She worried too much.
Rachel feared that her son and his partner were just going back into the same dangerous situation that brought them into this case. With Vinnie dead, and the other men behind bars, if the Bay City police had apprehended the man who tried to kill Hutch, she could relax – at least for this case.
Hutch hugged his extra mother and smiled at her. "Don’t worry, Mom. Davy isn’t walking back from the frying pan into the fire."
"I worry about you, too, Ken." She patted him gently on the cheek, pausing to touch the faded bruising on his eye.
"Yeah, well, he’ll keep an eye on me and I’ll look out for him, okay?"
Nick gave his brother a hug and promised he’d be out to visit him soon. After the detectives left to board the plane, Nick tried to get his mother to come with him.
"Not yet, son," she said with a patient smile as she walked closer to the glass, looking out at the plane that would carry her oldest son back to his life in California.
"Why, Ma? They’re on their way. Let’s go." Nick didn’t understand the point of standing around to watch a plane until it was gone.
Rachel turned toward him and said, "Nicky, be patient. Mothers always stand and look out the window."
"You do that when I leave your place?" he asked.
"Of course, I do. Moms are funny that way." She turned back toward the window and resolutely stood there until the plane was gone.
********
"You okay, Starsk?" Hutch asked after they were in the air.
"Yeah, I’m all right. You?"
"Couldn’t be better. I was proud of you with those reporters today. You always say you hate it, but you do just fine."
"Maybe."
"You know, you didn’t really answer the question, Starsk."
"What question?"
"The one that reporter asked. How does it feel?"
"Feels pretty good, Hutch. They didn’t need to know that, but it feels really good. But, Hutch, this case almost killed you. That wouldn’t have made it worth it."
"We made it, partner. Me and thee. We both got a little dinged up on the way, but we made it, Gordo."
Starsky smiled at his best friend. "Yeah, we did. Thanks, Hutch."
They knew they’d have to return to New York to testify. A paperwork monster and the associated investigation into the events that happened in Bay City also awaited them, but even that couldn’t put a damper on their good spirits. Hutch could see and feel the tension of the past few weeks leaving his partner. Solving the mystery of Mike Starsky’s murder and finally bringing that chapter of Starsky’s life to a close made everything worth it to Hutch.
THE END