Until the Fat Lady Sings

Part 1

 

Bay City-1985

 

 

The last few weeks had been grueling for both of them. Hell, the last few years hadn't been easy. Things hadn't been that great before Gunther, but afterwards, it just seemed to get worse. For a while, it didn't look like Starsky would ever get back on the street. When he did, it didn't take them long to find out that the spark was gone. Somehow, the lure of catching the bad guys just wasn't that strong, and the good guys didn't seem to win as often as they did before.

They tried a lot of things to make life easier, and it worked for a while. Since Starsky had spent so much time at Hutch's apartment while he was recovering from his brush with death, it seemed only reasonable to let his apartment go and move in with Hutch permanently. When the tenant across from Hutch moved out, the two detectives pooled their resources and bought the apartment, turning two small apartments into one spacious one. Venice Place was their island in a stormy sea of drugs, murder and death. Unfortunately, Fate didn’t always play nice, and even the walls of their home couldn't keep reality out.

They'd thought many times about getting off the streets. Maybe it was time. Let the young stallions and fillies crawl down the sewers for a while. They'd done it for too long. They were both tired, so it wasn't surprising that one of them would get sick. At first, they thought it was just a bad cold. But when the cough just wouldn't go away, Starsky finally convinced his partner to go to the doctor. Of course, Hutch grumbled the whole time.

"Starsky, I'm feeling better, I really am." Hutch turned away, doing his best to cover the next cough. "Why do I have to waste my time, and Doctor Henry's?"

The curly-haired detective shook his head adamantly. "You've had that cold long enough, Hutch. You've been up for the last three nights with that cough, and I can tell you've lost weight. You haven't been eating anything solid, and that junk you drink in the mornings doesn't count. Now, shut up and go. I'm supposed to go over my testimony with the DA for the Lander's case, but if you need me to come along and hold your hand, I'll try to reschedule."

"I'm not a child. I can go by myself."

So Hutch had kept his doctor's appointment while Starsky spent the afternoon with Bay City's newest District Attorney. As Starsky drove home, he scowled to himself. Working with Don Samuels was like trying to dance the Hula to Polka music. The two simply weren't in sync. He was more than happy to get back to Venice Place and unwind. The blond was in the kitchen, making dinner when he got home.

"Hey, how did your appointment go? What did Dr. Henry have to say?"

Hutch shook the long-handled spoon he was stirring the spaghetti sauce with at his partner. "I told you he'd make a mountain out of a molehill. He said that my lungs sounded a little congested and my glands looked like they were swollen a bit, so he made me go all the way to County General and give the lab about a gallon of blood so they could run some tests. He said he'd call me tomorrow with the results." He stirred the sauce then put the spoon down. "It's a racket, Starsky. You go in for a simple head cold, and everyone sees dollar signs in your eyes. Tomorrow he'll call me and say everything is fine, give me some medicine and charge me another fifty bucks. I could have stayed in bed and saved myself the money, and gotten well just as fast."

Starsky walked past Hutch and picked up the spoon, tasting the sauce. "Oh, stop your bellyaching and let's get dinner on the table. I'm starved. You know that cold wasn't getting any better. If you need antibiotics, then so be it. And if he needs to give you a shot in your ass, you'll drop your pants and bend over. You got that, partner?"

Hutch grinned mischievously. "Only if you'll promise not to kiss it and make it better."

So they ate dinner and played a game of Monopoly before going to bed, and the next morning, they went into the station just as they had for almost fifteen years. Dr. Henry and the blood tests were almost forgotten until Hutch answered the phone later that day.

The doctor's voice didn't leave any room for procrastination. "Sergeant Hutchinson, the results of your blood work are in. I need to see you in my office, immediately."

Hutch tried to cover his nervousness by acting casual. "I'm due in court this afternoon, Doc. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"No, it can't. I'll see you in my office, in one hour, Sergeant."

Hutch replaced the receiver slowly then conjured up a brave face for his partner. Starsky had heard his end of the conversation, so there was no use trying to lie. "He probably wants to tell me that I have iron-poor blood or something. You think you can handle Samuels on your own, without getting yourself suspended?"

"I think I can manage. I wish I could go with you, though."

Hutch took his jacket from the back of his chair. "I'll be okay. You go on to court and I'll meet you back at the apartment." He stopped a few feet away. "Hey, don't worry. It's probably nothing."

Starsky watched Hutch walk out the door. Yeah, it's probably nothing.

Twenty minutes later, Hutch was sitting stiffly in Dr. Henry's reception room. The doctor came out and motioned for him, stopping at the receptionist's desk briefly.

"Hold my calls, Delores."

Once in side the office, Dr. Henry waved at a seat. "Sit down, Ken." When Hutch did as he was told, Dr. Henry sat back in his chair. "As I told you on the phone, we have the results from the tests we ran yesterday. We've found something that concerns me greatly. Have you ever heard of human immunodeficiency virus, or acquired immunodeficiency syndrome?"

Hutch's mind stumbled over the medical terms. "I'm not sure. I think I might have read something about it."

"We've only discovered it recently. The virus is commonly referred to as HIV. The disease is called AIDS. We believe it originated in Africa, and we're starting to worry that it might spread in epidemic proportions that would rival the Black Plague very soon. In layman's terms, the virus attacks the blood, destroying your immune system. That leaves you extremely susceptible to infections, and serious illnesses like pneumonia.  We believe that the virus can lay dormant for up to ten years before it progresses to full-blown AIDS. Unfortunately, we have a lot to learn yet about the disease. The one thing we are certain about is it can be transmitted from one person to another under the right conditions."

Hutch thought about what Dr. Henry had said. He had to clear his throat before he could ask the question most on his mind. "Is there a cure?"

Dr. Henry shook his head gently. "No, there isn't." He spoke softly. "I'm sorry, Ken. Your blood sample tested positive for HIV. You have AIDS."

The words hit him in the stomach like a fist. "How long have I got?"

"That depends on your overall physical condition. It could be anywhere from a few months to a year, or possibly two. There are some experimental drugs out right now that could possibly slow the progression of the disease. We'll have to do some more tests. The screening is aggressive because the drugs are not without side effects. You seem to be in good shape, considering, so it might be wise to put off the drugs for a while. I have to ask you some questions now, Ken. They'll be intensely personal, but it's imperative that you tell me the truth. Anything you say is confidential. Your identity will never be released to the media."

"All right, what do you want to know?"

Dr. Henry pulled a pad of paper closer to him and took a pencil out of the holder on his desk. "When you have sexual intercourse, do you wear a condom?"

Hutch remembered all of the women in his life. Vanessa was on the pill, almost from the day they met, so he never thought about protection. But Vanessa was what his mother referred to as a "good girl". She wasn't promiscuous. Then he thought of Jeannie, and remembered something Forest had said to her when they arrested him. "Tell him about Vegas, Jeannie. Tell him what you were. Do you think he'll still want you then?" Was Jeannie a prostitute? Knowing Forest and the environment in which he operated, it was entirely possible. Then Hutch nearly groaned out loud. Gillian, there was no doubt where Gillian was concerned. How many men had she sold herself to before they met, and after? Hutch didn't think a John would worry about protection, and Gillian never made a point of asking for it, either.

He fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. "Uh, sometimes."

"But not all of the time."

"No."

Dr. Henry wrote on the pad then looked back at Hutch. "Detective, are you aware that every time you have unprotected sex, you are also having sex with every other person your partner has had sex with in the past?"

Hutch's head filled with the image of his full-size bed, crammed with nude men and women. Somehow, the picture was more terrifying than amusing.

Dr. Henry gave the blond some time to compose himself before asking his next question. "Have you ever received a blood transfusion?"

"Yeah, I was shot a few years ago. I think they said I needed two units of blood." "I see. Is that the only time you required a transfusion?"

"Yes. No, wait a minute. I was in a car accident before that, and my leg was broken in several places. I'm not sure if I needed blood during the surgery or not."

"Hmmm, well, it doesn't matter. Unfortunately, one of the ways the virus is spread is through tainted blood. Now, for my final question, and this is very important. Have you ever used intravenous drugs?"

Hutch started to speak then stopped. Mentally, he shrugged. Why shouldn't he tell the truth? Keeping his secret now was a moot point. "Yes. A long time ago, I was kidnapped. They wanted information, so I was forcibly addicted to heroin. It…happened over about four days."

"I see. And you have no idea if a new needle was used each time?"

Hutch snorted sarcastically. "After it was over, they stuck me in the back seat of a car and were planning on dumping me in the bay. I don't think using sterile needles was high on their list of priorities."

"I don't suppose it was. But you were addicted against your will. There isn't anything you could have done to avoid it. Are you in a relationship now, Ken?"

Hutch shook his head briefly. "I haven't been with anyone for a while."

"All right, I'll tell you what you should do. Make a list of the women you've been intimate with and let them know what's going on. At the very least, they should be tested for HIV."

Hutch gulped. "Do you mean all of them?"

"Well, I would notify the most recent women, anyway. I assume you've never been in a homosexual relationship?" When Hutch shook his head, Dr. Henry continued. "I would say you contracted the virus either by the needles used by your kidnappers, or the blood you received through transfusion when you were shot was tainted. I know warning every woman you've been intimate with sounds like a daunting task, but the most common way the virus is transmitted is through bodily fluids. That includes semen as well as blood. Whenever you had sexual intercourse without using a condom, you were unknowingly putting the women in your life at risk."

Hutch felt a chill course through his body. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me that I could give someone AIDS if they got some of my blood on them?"

"If the person touching you had an open wound, it's possible. Even a small cut would give the virus a way to enter their bloodstream. That's why we're currently trying to pass a regulation requiring all healthcare professionals, firemen, and police officers to wear gloves whenever they come in contact with any body fluids. This disease can affect everyone, Detective. You don't have to be gay to get it."

Hutch thought of Starsky, and the times they'd held each other when they were hurt. He barely got out the words. "I have a partner. We've been together for a long time. We've both been injured on the job, and Starsky's probably had more of my blood on him than I have."

Dr. Henry exhaled slowly. "Then I want him at County General first thing in the morning. He has to be tested, now. I won't say that he's definitely infected, but I know you don't want to take the chance that he is. I want you to go in, too. The lab can draw some more blood and run those tests I was telling you about earlier."

He stood up and came around the desk. "I know this is a lot to digest at once, Ken. I wish the news had been better. Talk to your partner, tell him what I said, and get him in here as soon as possible. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, Doc, we'll see you tomorrow."

 

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