Flashes of Light

Part 2

 

Hutch raced around the corner of the alley and crouched down behind a cluster of garbage cans, panting for air. His head jerked as he heard strange mewling sounds close by then clapped a hand over his mouth as he realized the sounds were coming from him. He heard people running past the alley and voices shouting to each other.

"He went this way!"

"No, over here! I saw him run in that alley."

"No, man, you're going the wrong way! Over here!"

Hutch tried to make himself smaller as two men ran past him. He bit his hand to keep from making any sounds. Minutes later, the voices faded as his pursuers disappeared into the mouth of the alley. He could feel his heart pounding as he fought the impulse to run. When he was sure the alley was empty, he crab-walked in the opposite direction, keeping close to the walls of the buildings. Finally, he reached the intersection he wanted and straightening up, ran full speed away from the scene. He didn't slow down until he was back in his room in the Palm Crest hotel. Slamming the door closed, he slumped against it, sliding down to the floor. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he laid his head on them and waited for his breathing to return to normal and his heart to stop pounding in his chest. The past hour came back to him like a movie in slow motion.

He'd found Benny in his usual spot, close to Porno Row. The drug dealer looked at him suspiciously when he'd asked for the smack.

"What is this, Hutchinson, some kind of bust?"

"Benny, look at me. Do I look like I'm in any condition to bust you?"

"No, man, you look kind of wired to me." Then the skinny little man had searched the alley. "Where's Starsky? Are you sure you haven't got him stashed somewhere, waiting for me to sell you the stuff?"

"I told you already, I'm not going to bust you! Now, do you have it or not? Don't bullshit me, Benny. You've been out of the joint for what, three months, and you're right back in your usual spot. I know you're dealing again."

Benny took a good look at the blond man standing in front of him and snickered. "Man, this is rich! You're hurting, aren't you? The mighty pig is Jonesing for a fix. There's justice in this world, after all."

Hutch hugged himself. "Just give me the stuff, Benny."

Benny pulled a small plastic bag out of one of his many pockets. "I can sell you a dime bag, unless you want more?"

"N-no, I just want something to make me feel better. I have some… stuff I have to take care of." Hutch took his wallet from his back pocket and opened it. "Here."

Benny took the ten dollar bill and handed Hutch the baggie. The blond snatched it and stuck it in his pocket.

Benny looked at him speculatively. "Hey, you got any gear?" When Hutch looked blankly at him, he mimicked using a syringe. "You know, a needle, a spoon, a strap, that kind of stuff."

Hutch shook his head, his eyes downcast.

Benny pulled out an old, black case and waved it in front of the blond. "I got everything you need right here. I bought it from a little old lady that only used it twice a day. I'll give it to you for a fin."

Hutch stared at the case in Benny's hand and jumped back, shaking his head vehemently. Benny's wiry form changed in front of his eyes, and suddenly Monk was in his place, leering at him.

"He took to it like a baby with a bottle. In a few more days, he'll sell his momma for a fix."

Hutch staggered against the wall. "No, no more, please! NO!"

He didn't remember taking the gun out of his belt, but the shot echoed loudly in the alley. Benny looked surprised then stumbled backwards into a metal garbage can.

Hutch shook his head repeatedly. "I didn't shoot him! I didn't. I didn't shoot him." Then the weight in his right hand wormed its way into his consciousness and he looked down at it, his eyes wide. He was still clutching the revolver he'd stolen from the uniformed officer. The gun dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers, and he kicked it violently across the room.

"No! I didn't shoot him. I swear I didn't. Won't somebody believe me?"

Gradually, his eyes closed and he fell asleep, his head resting on his knees. An undeterminable time passed before his head jerked up again, and he looked around the room. What's happening to me? Avoiding the revolver like it was a venomous snake, Hutch stood up, hugging the wall for support and ran into the bathroom. He turned the water on in the shower and stuck his head under the stream. I didn't shoot him. I didn't shoot him. I didn't shoot him. The words echoed in his mind like a mantra. After a few minutes, the cold water drove the confusion from his mind, and he was capable of coherent thought again.

Starsky, I need Starsky. He'll know what to do. He slapped his hand against his pants pockets. Change, I've got change. Got to find a pay phone. I have to call Starsky now. But where will he be? Hutch ran his fingers through his hair. He won't be home. He'll be out looking for me. How can I reach him? Huggy! I'll call Huggy.

He opened the door to his room cautiously and looked around. The hotel seemed deserted. Taking a deep breath, he tried to appear nonchalant as he walked out of the building and onto the street. Scanning the area for a phone, he spotted a booth on the corner of the street. Pulling the change from his pocket, he deposited the coins and dialed the number for The Pits. After a couple of rings, he heard the familiar voice.

"The Pits, Huggy speaking. It's your dime, start talking."

"Huggy, where's Starsky?"

Huggy's voice blared over the phone. "HUTCH, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? Starsky's out tearing up the streets looking for you! Are you okay?"

"Huggy, I need help. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"OK, chill out, don't pop a blood vessel. He just called about ten minutes ago. He's on the move, so I can't get him until he calls back. It'll be about twenty minutes. Where are you?"

"I'm in a phone booth."

"No, man, I mean where have you been hi-staying? As soon as Starsky calls, I'll send him right over to you."

"Oh, it's the Palm Crest hotel. Just tell him it’s the same one Monty Voorhees worked at when Bo killed him. I'm in room 17. The seven is upside down though. It's on the first floor."

"Voorhees, oh yeah, the geek. I'll tell him. You go on back now and stay put! For cripe's sake, don't take off before he gets there! Capish?"

"Yeah, Huggy. I'll be waiting for him. Tell him…tell him I don't know what's happening to me. I didn't shoot anybody!"

"I'll tell him, 'bro. Just take it easy. He'll be calling soon."

Hutch put the receiver back on the hook and leaned against the side of the phone booth. I'm so tired. Starsky, please come and get me.

He searched the area for any threatening faces then trotted back to the hotel. Slamming the door shut, he put the chair against it again and sat on the bed. Drawing the pillow up to his chest, he hugged it tightly. Hurry, Starsky, please hurry.

Discouragement weighed on Starsky's shoulders as he drove down the same street for the third time. Hutch, damn it, where are you? Twice now, he'd thought he'd spotted his partner, but each time he'd jumped out of the car and pursued the phantom figure, it turned out to be simply another homeless person trying to find sanctuary for the night. As he turned down another street, the chattering of the police radio caught his attention.

"Attention all cars, please respond to a 187 in the alley between Third Street and Main."

The message hit Starsky like a fist in the stomach. He turned around in the nearest driveway and drove back to Main Street. Parking the Granada a block away, he jogged to the alley. Several uniformed officers were standing beside a sheet-covered body, talking. Starsky hung back until he saw Dobey approach the men. He hurried toward his captain.

"Captain, it's not Hutch, is it?"

Dobey swung around. "Starsky, where the Hell have you been? I called Huggy, but he wouldn’t tell me a damned thing. He just said you were out and about."

"You know where I've been, Cap. Now, is that Hutch, or isn't it?"

Dobey shook his head. "No, but I think you'll recognize him. Come take a look."

Starsky gazed warily at the black man before moving closer to the group of officers. He nodded slightly at the men then kneeled down and pulled the sheet away from the corpse's face.

He frowned slightly. "It's Benny Cagle. We busted him for dealing. He got out of the joint about three months ago. I figured he was doing his thing again, but he's been keeping a low profile. What's this got to do with Hutch?"

The last voice he wanted to hear came from behind him. "The last person to see him alive was a large, blond man. Several witnesses heard them arguing before they heard a shot. Sound familiar?"

Starsky straightened up and turned around, his expression neutral. "There's only about a million blond guys in this world, Simonetti."

"Ah, but how many of those are carrying a policeman's service revolver? If you'll take a closer look at the body, you'll see Cagle was shot with a .32."

Starsky made a show of searching the ground. "I don't see a gun anywhere. What makes you so sure it's Officer Wilmington's gun? And for that matter, no one actually saw Hutch take it from him. Wilmington told me he was struck from behind."

Simonetti took a menacing step toward Starsky. "Stay away from my witnesses, Starsky. You aren't assigned to this case."

Starsky's smile was dangerous. "If memory serves, neither are you. Detectives Simmons and Babcock are."

Simonetti snarled and put a finger in the brunet's face. "You're hampering an official investigation, Starsky. I'm going to find Hutchinson, and when I do, I'm going to put both of you behind bars and throw away the key. Then, I'm going to let everyone in the joint know you're there. I'm sure you'll find the welcoming committee very friendly."

Starsky stared back at the IA detective, his eyes hard. "I'm not hampering anything, Simonetti. Unlike you, I'm looking for the truth. You're so obsessed with bringing Hutch down that you wouldn't know the truth if it walked up and spit in your face."

Simonetti's hand curled into a fist. "One of these days, Starsky, I'm going to forget I'm a cop and then we'll have a little one-on-one."

"Any time you feel froggy, Simonetti, you just go ahead and jump." Then he turned back to Dobey. "You don't have anything to go on, Captain. Benny Cagle wasn't well known for his sense of ethics. Any junkie in a ten mile radius could have taken him down. Saturday night specials are a dime a dozen around here."

Dobey pulled his detective away from the crowd, and Simonetti. "You know what shape Hutch is in. There's a good possibility that he was hurting and tried to score, and Benny thought it was a set up."

"Hutch wouldn’t do that! Whatever is going on with him, I won't believe he's using. He'd rather put a gun in his mouth and pull the trigger than put that shit in his veins."

"I hope you're right, Starsky. Things are looking worse and worse for him. You'd better find him before he digs a hole so deep that we can't pull him out of it."

"I'm trying, Captain." Starsky ran his fingers through his curls then jerked a thumb toward Simonetti. "Can you keep him off of me for a while longer?"

"I'll do what I can, Starsky. Just find your partner and get to the bottom of this!"

Starsky nodded morosely then walked away. He was almost back to the Granada when a voice came from the shadows.

"Those pigs have it all wrong."

He stopped and looked around. "What do you mean?"

An old man dressed in a dirty trench coat and Fedora slithered out of the alley. He took off the hat and scratched his head. The man's thinning hair was a dirty dishwater-blond, and the grizzled hair on his face was speckled with grey.

"Your friend didn't shoot Benny. He was arguing all right, but he had his wallet in one hand and the other one was empty when he reached out for Benny. Now, unless he suddenly grew a third arm, that means he didn't shoot anybody."

"You saw what happened?"

"Some of it. I was trying to sleep, but your pal's voice woke me up. I saw him buy the junk off Benny, but when Benny showed him the case, he went nuts and started yelling. I didn't see any gun."

"But you heard the gun shot, right?"

The old man glared at Starsky. "I ain't deaf, Sonny. The shot came from behind your friend."

Hope surged through Starsky. "Did you see who shot Benny?"

"Nah, your friend was in the way. But I'd bet my bottom dollar it was a dame."

"A woman? Why do you say that?"

"Cause I thought I heard her whispering to your friend. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but it sounded like a woman to me."

"Did you see which way she went?"

"Nope. After Benny went down, the blond guy ran off and a couple of seconds later, the place was crawling with hookers and junkies. The junkies ran for cover but the hookers stayed around until the cops got here. They saw the blond guy, but I guess the chick snuck right past them."

Starsky clapped the man on his shoulders then took his wallet out of his pocket. He opened it and withdrew a twenty-dollar bill then handed it to the bum.

"Here. This is the first time anyone has said anything that makes sense. Go get yourself a room for the night, or a fifth, or whatever you want."

The man grinned in a way that was oddly familiar. "Hey, thanks! I hope you find your friend, and that dame. See ya, Sonny."

Starsky scanned the area for a pay phone, a new optimism shining in his eyes. Spotting a booth, he ran toward it, digging change out of his pocket. He dialed Huggy's number and tapped his fingers impatiently.

"The Pits, Huggy speaking."

"Huggy, it's me."

"Thank God! Your other half called about twenty minutes ago!"

Starsky sighed with relief. "Where is he? Is he OK?"

"He said he's been staying at the Palm Crest hotel. It's the one that geek was at when Bo Rile wiped him. You know who I mean, Monty Voorhees. He said he's staying in room 17, but the 7's turned upside down. He didn't sound too good, 'bro."

"I'm not surprised. I just left Dobey and Simonetti. A dope dealer me and Hutch busted was killed with a .32, and Simonetti's got Hutch all lined up to take the fall. Only, I've got a little surprise for Simonetti."

"What's that?"

"I got a witness that says a woman was in the area when Benny Cagle bought it. She's the one that shot him, not Hutch. This is the second time a witness mentioned a woman being on the scene."

"The million dollar question is: who is she?"

"I don't know, Hug, but at least I've got a decent lead. Look; did you find us a place to stay?"

He heard Huggy chortle over the phone. "Did I ever."

When Starsky heard the address, he laughed out loud. "Now, that's original. You're right; no one will ever think to look for us there. Thanks, Hug. I'll call back as soon as I get Hutch out of that rat trap."

"Be careful, Curly. Whoever this mysterious Mata Hari is, she's gotta know you two are a package deal. She might come after you, too, if you get in her way."

"That's what I'm hoping for, Huggy. I'll see ya later."

Starsky ran back to the Granada and sped off toward the Palm Crest Hotel. Minutes later, he was in front of room 17. He knocked softly on the door.

"Hutch."

He could hear someone stirring around then a shaky voice answered from the other side.

"I'm not going to open the door! You're not going to get me this time."

"Hutch, it's me, Starsky. Huggy told me where you were. Come on, buddy; open up."

The silence stretched on for so long that he thought Hutch had sneaked out of the room. Finally, he heard the sound of a chair being moved then the door opened a crack. Starsky tried to hold on to his patience.

"See, it's me. I'm all by myself. It's okay, you can open the door."

Hutch slowly opened the door then walked back to the bed and sat down. He pulled the cover over his shoulders, his head bent and eyes downcast. Starsky started toward him but stopped when his toe hit the gun. He looked down at it then back up at Hutch.

"Did you lose something, partner?" He started to pick it up.

"No, don't touch it!" Hutch scooted back on the bed. He turned toward the wall. "I didn't shoot Benny."

Starsky moved around the gun and sat beside the blond on the bed. "I know you didn't. I found someone that saw the whole thing, or at least most of it. He said you didn't shoot anybody." He looked around the room, shaking his head sadly. "We'll talk about that later. First, we need to get you out of here. You need food, water, and I need to take a look at that arm."

Hutch turned to face his friend. "I'm not going to jail. I can't."

"You're not going to jail. Huggy found a safe place for us to stay. You can't stay here, Hutch. It's dirty, and I'll bet the electricity isn't in that great a shape, either. Look at that lamp. I'm surprised you didn't start a fire when you turned it on. Now, is there anything you need to take with you?"

Hutch shook his head once. "I don't have anything, just the towels in the bathroom and that." He pointed a shaky finger at the gun.

Starsky got the towels out of the bathroom and used one to pick up Wilmington's revolver. He took a final look around to make sure they weren't leaving any evidence behind.

"Come on; let's get out of here. Huggy has some food for us and some clean clothes. The sooner we're out of here, the sooner we can take care of that arm."

He half-carried Hutch out of the hotel and put him in the Granada. Taking the cooler out of the trunk, he put it between them on the seat. He took out two sandwiches and gave one to Hutch. The blond devoured it in three bites then reached for another one.

Starsky smiled. "Well, we know you aren't hurting for a fix. You couldn't stand the thought of food for almost three days, remember?"

Hutch shook his head quickly between bites. "But I felt it, Starsk. I was thinking about how hungry I was, and all of the sudden, it was like being in that damned room over The Pits again. When I was talking to Benny, I really wanted that stuff. Then he pulled out that black case and everything changed again. Instead of Benny standing there, it was Monk. I think I'm going crazy."

"You're not going crazy, Hutch. We know it's a set-up. Now all we have to do is figure out who and why. OK, we're here. Grab that duffel bag and follow me."

Hutch noticed where they were for the first time and turned to Starsky, his eyes wide.

"We're staying here?"

"Yep, you gotta admit no one will even think of this place. Leave it to Huggy."

On the outside, the two story house Hutch was talking about looked like a normal suburban home. It was painted white with dark blue trim, and the apartment over the garage matched the house. Starsky got out of the car, motioning to Hutch. They walked up the narrow sidewalk to the simple wooden door. Starsky knocked once then stepped back. When the door opened, the two men walked inside.

Starsky smiled at the woman standing in the hallway. "Hi, Nicki, it's been a long time."

"Yeah, it has, Starsky. At least this time, it's the real you. Huggy told me you needed a safe place to stay for a few days." Nicki looked over at Hutch. "Are you okay, Hutch? You don't look so good."

Starsky fielded her question. "It's been a bad couple of days, Nicki. We can't go into it right now, but we really appreciate you putting us up like this. I promise you won't get into any kind of trouble."

Nicki smiled knowingly. "I'm out of the business, Starsky. After your evil twins beat me up, I realized I was getting too old for that kind of grief. Now I run a home for runaway kids. I have people like Huggy that keep an eye out for kids in trouble, and I get to them before the pimps do. I get a little help from the government, and the cops leave me alone. So whatever is going on with you two, no one is going to hassle you. If you'll follow me, I'll show you where you'll be staying."

She led them through the house and out the back door, stopping to take a key from one of the kitchen drawers on the way out. She walked ahead of them to the garage then went up the stairs to the small apartment. Unlocking the door, she turned on the small overhead lights before handing Starsky the key.

"Huggy's already been here, and stocked the refrigerator and pantry. He said you should have everything you need for a few days, and if you need anything else, to call him."

Starsky looked around the cozy rooms. "Thanks, Nicki. It looks great."

She grinned. "I thought you'd have a little more privacy out here. Right now, I've got eight teenage girls with two more on the way. It can get kind of noisy in the mornings, in the main house." She touched Starsky on his hand. "I'll leave you two alone now. I told the girls that you were recovering from an accident and this place is strictly off limits until further notice. If any of them pester you, just let me know."

"I will, Nicki. Thanks again." Starsky closed the door behind her and locked it before turning to the blond.

"Come on; I want to take a look at that arm then we both could use a hot shower and something more substantial to eat than sandwiches."

He took the cooler and duffel bag from Hutch and laid them on the counter, and lead Hutch into the bathroom. He put the lid to the toilet seat down then patted it.

"Take off your jacket and shirt and have a seat."

After Hutch did as he was told, Starsky gingerly unwrapped the towel and studied the wound on Hutch's arm.

He frowned. "I don't like the way it looks. The edges are kind of red and puffy."

Hutch turned his head so he could look at his arm. "It was okay the last time I checked it."

"Yeah, but you've been running a lot and sweating, haven't you? And you have to admit, you weren't in the most sterile place for the last two days. Sit still. I'll be right back."

Starsky grabbed the first aid kit out of the duffel bag and went back into the bathroom. He cleaned the bullet wound with hydrogen peroxide first then with several alcohol swabs. When he was satisfied the wound was free of dirt, he slathered an antibiotic cream all over it and bandaged it with sterile gauze. Standing back, he inspected his handiwork.

"There, that looks better. I still want a doctor to have a look at it, though. The last thing you need is a bad infection."

"Starsky, I can't go to the hospital! I know I haven't exactly been firing on all cylinders, but I'll bet Simonetti has people watching out for any gunshot wounds that come through the ER."

"He probably does, but that's not what I meant. You know Huggy has contacts everywhere in the city. I'll see if he knows a doctor that still makes house calls, and will keep his mouth shut."

Hutch grinned and put his palm on Starsky's forehead. "I think you're the one with the fever, partner. Nobody makes house calls any more."

Starsky slapped at the hand playfully. "I'm glad you haven't lost your sense of humor, buddy. Now take a shower, and keep that bandage dry. You smell a little ripe."

"Gee, thanks for pointing that out, Gordo."

"Hey, if your best friend can't tell you, who can?"

Starsky waited until he heard the water running in the shower before he dialed Huggy's number.

"The Pits, Huggy speaking."

"Hey, Hug, it's me. We're at Nicki's. Thanks for putting us up."

"Don't mention it, bro'. Nicki has always felt a little guilty about getting you in trouble with the Commissioner. She was happy to help out."

"That wasn't her fault, Huggy. Those two creeps came after her in the dark, and they could have passed for our brothers. Anyway, I know you've already done more than I could ever repay, but I need one more favor. That bullet graze Hutch took in the arm doesn't look good. I don't suppose you have a cousin that's a doctor, and would be willing to make a house call?"

Huggy chuckled. "Well, he ain't my cousin, but I do know someone that would fit the bill. How soon do you want him there?"

"As soon as possible. I'm about to fall asleep standing up, and I know Hutch isn't in much better shape. If he can get over here tonight, we can have a decent meal and a good night's sleep for once."

"Let me make a quick phone call and I'll get back to you."

"Thanks, Hug. Oh, one more thing. I want him to run toxicology on Hutch. It won't be easy, because Simonetti's probably alerted the hospitals for anything unusual."

"I'll ask him about it, but why?"

"Somebody put those needles in Hutch's arm. I want to know what they gave him. I won't ever forget the Hell he went through after Forest, and this doesn't seem like the same thing. I'd know if he were using again, Hug."

"Yeah, I think you would. Stay by the phone, Starsky. I'll see if I can get hold of him."

Starsky waited until Hutch was out of the bathroom then took a quick shower before putting on clean clothes. He sighed as he pulled the clean shirt over his head. This must be what Heaven feels like. He talked Hutch into lying down on the couch while he heated up one of the casseroles Huggy had left in the refrigerator. Both men had been eating on the run for days and a hot meal was just what the doctor ordered. He was just getting it out of the oven when the phone rang.

He motioned to Hutch. "Go ahead and fix yourself a plate. That's Huggy calling back." He picked up the receiver. "Starsky."

"Hey, Starsk, you're in luck. My friend was just coming in the door when I called. He runs a free clinic down by Porno Row, and he has his own private lab. He should be at your place in twenty minutes. Be straight with him, Starsky. He's good people. He knows you're cops, but you don't have to worry about him reporting the gunshot wound. He's used to dealing with the seamier side of life."

"This is about as seamy as it gets. Thanks, Hug, we owe you."

They had just finished eating when there was a soft tap at the door. Starsky opened it and examined the man standing on the steps. Approximately fifty years old, he was almost as tall as Starsky, but much thinner. His dark brown eyes sparkled with intelligence, instantly giving Starsky a feeling of confidence.

When he spoke, the man's voice was compassionate. "I'm Dr. Greer. Huggy sent me."

Starsky stepped back. "Come in, Doctor. Thanks for getting over here so fast. Did Huggy tell you what was going on?"

"Yes, he told me that your partner had been wounded slightly." Dr. Greer turned to Hutch and smiled. "I take it you're Hutch?"

Hutch gazed at the man warily. "Yeah. I'm sorry we had to drag you out so late at night. It's just a flesh wound, and Starsky did a good job of fixing me up."

Dr. Greer sat his bag on the table and opened it. "I'm sure he did, but even a superficial wound can get infected. If you'll take off your shirt, I'll have a look at it. It won't take a minute."

Hutch reluctantly took off his shirt and turned so Dr. Greer could see the bandage on his arm. The doctor removed the bandage and examined the wound closely. He frowned slightly.

"Well, it looks pretty good, but I do see a hint of redness around the edges. The gash isn't deep, so I don't think you need stitches. I'd like to give you a shot of antibiotics then give you some pills. Are you in a lot of pain, Hutch?"

"No, not really. It stings a little sometimes, but that's all."

"Good. I'd rather not give you any pain pills if you don't need them. I understand that you need all your wits about you right now. First, though, I'd better take a couple vials of your blood. I don't want the antibiotics to skew the results."

Hutch moved back slightly and eyed Starsky. "What results?"

Starsky tried to placate his friend. "I asked Dr. Greer to run toxicology on you. Somebody's putting something in your arm, Hutch, and I don't think it is heroin. He has a private lab, so he can do the tests himself."

Dr. Greer gazed frankly at the blond. "Don't you want to know what it is, Detective? If someone's injecting substances into your blood stream without your knowledge, it could be just about anything."

Hutch looked from Dr. Greer to Starsky then exhaled slowly and extended his arm. "OK, knock yourself out, Doc."

Dr. Greer filled the two vials quickly then gave Hutch a shot of antibiotics. He took out a small pill bottle and put several large tablets in it.

"These are fairly strong, so you only have to take them twice a day. I know your life is in chaos right now, but try to take them all. Keep the wound clean and dry, and change the bandage daily." He snapped his bag closed and picked it up. "It shouldn’t take long to run those tests, Detective. I'll call you as soon as I have the results."

Starsky wrote the phone number for the apartment down on a small piece of paper and handed it to the doctor then walked him to the door. "Thanks, Doc. What do we owe you?"

Dr. Greer shook his head briefly. "You don't owe me a thing, and neither does Huggy. I'm glad I could help."

Starsky gazed speculatively at the doctor. "How do you know Huggy? I wouldn't think you two traveled in the same circles, if you get my drift."

Dr. Greer smiled. "Five years ago, I would have agreed with you. Then my niece came to spend the summer with me and everything in my life changed. She was running around with a few of her friends and got lost in the wrong part of town. It was dark out, very late at night, when a group of young men approached Sandy and the other girls. But instead of attacking them, the men walked beside the car and led them out of the area. Before that night, I had always assumed a gang of young men signaled nothing but trouble. I realized then that I was operating under the worst kind of prejudice. I judged those men by the color of their skin and the part of the city in which they lived. So I opened the free clinic and started treating people that had no other way to receive proper medical care. Huggy was just one of the many good people that I've met down here. I know evil is everywhere, and those young men prevented what could have been a tragedy if Sandy and her friends had run into the wrong crowd. I'm happy to do whatever I can to repay those men, and the people who protect them." He smiled again as he walked out the door. "Good night, Detective Starsky. I'll call you as soon as I know something."

Starsky closed the door behind him and turned back to Hutch. "Well, all we can do now is wait. Why don't we get a little shut-eye? At least we won't have to look over our shoulders here."

Hutch nodded. "That sounds good to me. I think I could sleep for a month."

Starsky insisted that Hutch take the only bed then took an extra blanket and pillow and lay down on the couch. It felt like he'd only been asleep for a few minutes when the phone rang. He picked it up on the first ring.

"Starsky."

"This is Dr. Greer. I have the results of the tests. There's no sign of heroin in Detective Hutchinson's bloodstream."

Starsky sighed with relief. "Thanks, Doc, that's great news."

"That's not all. I did find trace amounts of sodium pentothal."

Starsky frowned. "You mean the truth serum?"

"It can be used for that, yes. It's rather controversial right now. Some of the human rights activists think using it is cruel and unusual punishment."

"But why would somebody give Hutch truth serum?"

"I have no idea, but it does strip a person's inhibitions and makes them more open to suggestion."

Starsky looked into the bedroom at his sleeping partner. "How easy is this stuff to get hold of?"

"I've never heard of it being sold on the street, but if someone had the proper contacts, it could probably be obtained through one of the medical supply houses."

"I see. Doctor, how easy is it to hypnotize someone? Wouldn't you have to know what you were doing?"

"That depends. If someone is giving Hutch sodium pentothal without his knowledge, I don't think they'd be too concerned with his emotional health. Someone without ethics could plant any suggestion they wanted."

"But I've always heard that you can't force someone to do something against their will, even if they are hypnotized."

"That's true to a point, Starsky. But you and Hutch are detectives. If someone planted the suggestion in Hutch's mind that he was in danger, they could make him think he was defending himself against an imagined threat."

Starsky cursed silently. "Terrific. Thanks, Doc. You've given me a lot to think about."

"I'm sorry I just added to the mystery, Detective. Make sure Hutch takes all of those antibiotics, and let me know if I can be of further assistance."

"I will. Goodbye, Doctor."

Starsky thumbed the button on the base of the phone then dialed another number. He started talking as soon as he heard Dobey's gruff voice.

"It's Starsky. I just got off the phone with a doctor that ran some tests on Hutch's blood. He didn't find any hint of heroin. Hutch is clean, Captain."

He heard the captain sigh. "Well, that's some good news at least. What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. The doc said he found sodium pentothal in Hutch's blood. I think Hutch is being hypnotized. I need to speak to Dryden, as soon as I can. He's the only one that can tell us what really happened that night."

"I just talked to his doctor. He said Dryden should be waking up pretty soon. But, Starsky, how are you going to get past Simonetti? He's on my back to put an APB out on you, too, for aiding and abetting."

"Send him out on a wild goose chase, or something. Just give me five minutes with Dryden when he does wake up. I have to know what he saw. Hutch wouldn't shoot him unless someone made him do it."

"All right, I'll see what I can do. Give me your number and I'll call as soon as Dryden wakes up. But be careful, Starsky. Simonetti may be a lot of things, but he's not dumb. He won't fall for just any scam."

"I know, Captain. Thanks. I'll be waiting for your call."

When he hung up the phone, Hutch was standing in the doorway. "What's going on?"

"I just talked to Dr. Greer. He found sodium pentothal in those blood samples he took. Sit down and let me rustle up some breakfast, and then we gotta talk. I think someone is hypnotizing you."

"Starsky, hypnosis is a fake. It's a parlor game. You can't really make someone flap their arms and cluck like a chicken."

"I'm not talking about an innocent stunt in a Las Vegas floor show, Hutch. I think someone is giving you the Pentothal then planting suggestions in your mind."

"I wouldn't shoot Dryden, and I wouldn't kill Benny, no matter what someone did!"

Starsky moved around the kitchen, taking eggs and bacon out of the refrigerator. As he started cooking their breakfast, he reasoned with his partner. "You would if you thought you were in danger. Anyway, we still have that mysterious woman that old man talked about. Maybe she's the one that actually pulled the trigger."

"Yeah, but how are we going to find her? No one knows what she looks like. Mr. Peters said he wasn't sure if it was a woman, or where she came from. And that bum you talked to won't last a second on the stand if this goes that far."

"I'm not planning on this mess ever going to trial, buddy." He spooned the eggs and bacon onto two plates then handed one to the blond. "Come on; sit down and eat then we'll figure this out. Captain Dobey said he'd call as soon as Dryden woke up. He's going to get Simonetti out of the way so I can talk to Dryden alone."

Hutch sat down dejectedly. "I still don't buy this hypnosis bit, but I'll go along with it for now. I hope Dryden can tell us what happened that night. It's all a blur to me."

After they finished breakfast, Starsky led Hutch back to the small living room and motioned for him to sit on the couch. He sat down on the other end and faced his friend.

"I want you to tell me everything you remember about the night Dryden got shot. Don't leave anything out."

"Starsky, I already told you what happened! What good will it do to rehash it?"

"Just do it, would you?"

Hutch slumped against the couch and shook his head. "OK, I think it's a waste of time, but I'll take it from the top. I was sitting on the couch, watching the news. I heard someone knocking at the door so I got up and answered it. I thought it was you, but when I opened the door, no one was there. I looked across the hall at the other apartment, but I guess they weren't home. Then I looked down the stairs and that's when the bright light hit me in the face. I don't remember anything else until Mr. Peters ran into Dryden's apartment. When I saw the gun in my hand, I almost lost it. I don't know how I got there, and I don't remember arguing with Dryden. It's all a blank."

"OK, is that the first time you remember seeing that bright light?"

"I think so. Then I saw it again at the Palm Crest. The next thing I knew, I was standing over Benny with Wilmington's gun in my hand."

"So, every time you saw that light, there's a gap in your memory. Don't you see, Hutch? That light is some kind of signal. When you see it, you slip back under and whoever this woman is, she gives you another suggestion."

"But what could she tell me that would make me shoot Dryden? I can believe that I shot Benny, especially since I flashed back to Forest, but I've never had a quarrel with Dryden. There's no way she could make me think Dryden was going to hurt me."

"Then she shot him and put the gun in your hand before Peters ran into the room. Now, what about the marks on your arm? You said you noticed the first one when you were taking a shower. Did you see that bright light before then?"

"I don't know. There wasn't anything special about the night before. We got off work late as usual; I came home, and went to bed. I don't remember anyone knocking at the door, and no one called."

"What time did you go to bed?"

Hutch glared at Starsky. "I don't know! It was around eleven, or eleven thirty, I guess. Why does it matter?"

"How did you feel when you woke up? Were you groggy, or did anything seem out of place?"

Hutch sagged as the anger left him. "I don't think so. I was so freaked out when I saw the mark on my arm that I forgot about anything else."

"So it's possible someone flashed that light in your eyes the night before, and then gave you the shot of Pentothal. That would explain why Dr. Greer only found traces of it in your bloodstream. Whoever is responsible for this is just giving you a little bit at a time."

"Well, I guess I should be thankful it wasn't heroin, but how are we going to prove all of this? This whole nightmare sounds like the plot of a cheap dime store novel."

"Hopefully, when Dryden wakes up he can at least tell us who this mystery woman is. When we find her, I think we'll get our answers."

"I hope so. Otherwise, I'll be spending the next thirty years in prison for a crime I don’t remember committing."

Starsky leaned closer. "You listen to me, partner. You are not going to jail. I'm going to find that woman and when I do, I'll shake the truth out of her if I have to."

Hutch grinned back. "If you find her, I just might help you. So, what do we do now?"

"We're gonna wait for Dobey to call then you're going to sit tight while I have a little chat with Dryden."

"I don't like it, Starsky. It's my freedom that's on the line. I think I should go with you."

"Uh, uh, no way. I don't want you sticking your nose out of this apartment until this whole nightmare is over. If Simonetti sees you, he'll have you in a cell before you can blink, and there won't be a thing I can do about it. Besides, I can't concentrate on anything else if I'm worrying about you. So save us both a lot of grief and stay put, would you?"

Hutch sighed loudly. "I still don’t like it, but I'll take the coward's way out. I'll stay here and bury my head in the sand while you're out there trying to clear my name."

"Being smart isn't the same thing as being a coward, Hutch. You know this is the best place for you right now. In case it hasn't occurred to you, Simonetti may not be the only person that's hunting for you. Our mystery lady might not be finished with you yet."

Hutch shuddered slightly as his eyes roved around the apartment. "I hadn't thought about that. OK, you've convinced me. I'll stay put."

The morning was nearly gone before Dobey called back. "Dryden's awake. Simonetti was on his way in to talk to him when Dispatch called. They said they had an anonymous phone call that said Hutch was sighted down by the old warehouse district. That should keep him busy for a while."

Starsky grinned. "Thanks, Cap. I'm on my way." He hung up the phone and grabbed his jacket on the way to the door. Before he left, he pointed a finger at Hutch. "Stay put and don't forget to take your medicine. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Yes, mom. For God's sake, be careful!"

Starsky stuck his tongue out at the blond then raced down the stairs to the Granada. He drove to the hospital, taking care to stay within the speed limits. Parking in the visitor's lot, he looked around carefully before getting out of the car. When a small crowd of people walked past the car toward the main entrance of the hospital, Starsky blended in with them and breezed past the officer guarding the door. Instead of taking the elevator, he found a stairwell and took it to the fourth floor. Peeking out of the door, he saw Dobey talking to the officer guarding the door to Dryden's room. Waving slightly, he got Dobey's attention. When the captain saw him, he said something to the officer, drawing him away from the door. As soon as the officer walked down the hall, he saw Dobey motion with his hand, and walked quickly to him.

"Come on; I told Stanley that I'd watch Dryden while he took a break. I told him to be back in fifteen minutes."

Starsky nodded then went into Dryden's room. He walked slowly to the bed.

"Bill, can you hear me?"

Dryden moaned softly then opened his eyes. He blinked then tried to focus on Starsky's face.

"I hear you."

Starsky glanced at Dobey then spoke in a gentle tone. "What happened, Bill? Can you remember?"

Dryden licked his lips before he spoke. "I was getting ready for bed when there was a knock at the door. When I answered it, Hutchinson was standing there, and he was freaking out about something. He pushed me back inside and started ranting about his ex-wife. He kept shouting over and over again that he didn't kill her and Alex was trying to railroad him. I kept trying to tell him that we knew who shot her, and that it was all in the past, but it was like he couldn't hear me. He acted like it had just happened, and he got more and more agitated about it. I couldn’t reason with him."

Dobey moved closer. "Who shot you, Bill? Was it Hutch?"

Dryden shook his head. "No, he couldn't have. He was waving his hands around and they were empty. He looked really bad, though. He was sweating and there was this wild look in his eyes. I was afraid he was going to take a swing at me, so I backed up and tried to get to the phone. I turned around to tell him that I was calling for back-up, and that's when someone shot me."

Starsky laid a hand on Dryden's arm. "This is really important. Did you see who shot you?"

"There was someone standing in the shadows. I think it was a woman, but I'm not sure. She must have come in while I was going for the phone." He looked at Dobey. "Hutch didn't shoot me, Captain. The gunshot came from behind him."

Dobey nodded encouragingly. "Did you see what she looked like? Anything will help, Bill."

"She was standing in the corner, so all I could make out was an outline. I don't think she was very big, and she was dressed all in black. I couldn't see her face. I heard her say something to Hutch, but I couldn't make it out. I'm sorry. That's all I can remember."

Starsky laid his hand on Dryden's shoulder. "That's OK, Bill. You've helped us a lot. You get some rest now."

They waited until Dryden was sleeping peacefully then turned toward the door. Simonetti was standing in the entrance.

"What the Hell are you doing in my partner's room? Get out, now!"

Dobey stepped in front of Starsky. "It's over, Simonetti. I'm pulling the APB out on Hutchinson. Dryden told us everything. A woman shot him, not Hutch."

Surprise flitted across the IA detectives face then it hardened. "That doesn't matter, Captain. He's still wanted for Benny Cagle's murder."

Starsky spoke between clenched teeth. "It won't wash, Simonetti. I have a witness that places a woman at that scene, too. Chances are it's the same woman. Hutch didn't shoot anybody. YOU shot an innocent man."

"We'll see, Starsky, when you produce this mystery woman. Until then, Hutchinson is still guilty in my book."

Dobey moved forward. "Sergeant Hutchinson is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law, just like any other citizen in this city! Until you come up with concrete evidence that he shot these two people, I'm ordering all charges dropped against him. Do I make myself clear, Detective?"

Simonetti stood stiffly. "Yes, sir." Then he snarled at Starsky. "Stay away from Bill. If I catch you in his room again, I'll have you removed forcibly." Casting the brunet a final glare, he stalked into Dryden's room and slammed the door.

Starsky watched him go then turned to Dobey. "I still don't trust him, Captain. He's so bent on taking Hutch down that I don't think he cares about a little obstacle like proof."

"I'll take care of Simonetti. You just go get your partner and take him to the station. We still have to find this woman everyone's talking about."

Starsky gave a mock salute. "You got it, Cap. I can't wait to tell him what Dryden said. At least we know Hutch didn't shoot him, or Benny. We'll see you down there in a little bit."

 

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