Rejected
Part 5: Final
Albright’s Drug Store was a small pharmacy a few blocks
from Larry Ashby’s home. Sandwiched between a used book store and a small deli,
the store was the epitome of family ran businesses. Inside, there were only two
clerks and the pharmacists behind the counter were older, and as Hutch found
out soon, were the owners.
“Yeah, I know Larry. The whole family has been loyal
customers since they moved into the neighborhood. What can I do for you,
Lieutenant?”
“I was speaking with his doctor earlier. He’s a little
concerned about Larry because he hasn’t heard from him in a while. He’s afraid
that Larry has stopped taking his medicine and is having problems again.”
Stephan Albright shook his head sadly. “I was afraid it
was something like that. Larry used to come in right on schedule to refill his
meds. I always emphasized the importance of taking them on time. With some of
the medication he’s on, it’s not a good idea to stop taking them cold turkey.”
“Can you tell me the last time he was in? It’s very
important, Mr. Albright.”
“Let me check.” The pharmacist thumbed through a small
card file behind the counter. “Oh dear, I didn’t realize it had been that long.
The last refill expired six months ago. That’s why I thought he’d switched drug
stores. The prescriptions can’t be filled without a doctor’s order and we never
got one. I figured his psychiatrist simply called them in somewhere else.”
“Have you seen him at all since then?”
Albright shook his head. “No. He used to come in all the
time. He had his own medicine, plus his mothers. But I heard Ella was in a
nursing home, so I knew she was in good hands. There are newer and bigger drug
stores closer to where Larry works, so I just thought he’d switched. My wife
and I are getting older. We’ll be retiring soon. I’m not surprised some of our
younger customers are going somewhere else.”
He shook himself slightly and looked at Hutch. “Larry is
a good boy. He’s had some problems, but he never gave me a bit of trouble when
he came in here. Before Ella got bad, he would always pick up something little
for her whenever he came for his meds. He said it was just to make her smile. I
sure hope he’s OK. He’s had enough sadness in his young life.”
Hutch was quiet for a moment then asked, “Mr. Albright,
can you think of anywhere Larry liked to go when he wanted to be alone? He’s
not at work, and we checked his house, but his car was gone. We’d really like
to find him. His psychiatrist said that if he hasn’t been taking his medication
for a while, he could suffer a relapse.”
“Larry’s always been a loner, but if you talked to his
doctor, you know that already. With Ella in a nursing home, he must be feeling
more isolated than ever. He liked going to the park, and the beach when he was
younger. I guess Ella started that. She used to push him in his stroller when
Fred was at work. You might try there. And he likes to ride his bike on the
paths in the park.”
Hutch glanced at Starsky then turned back to the
pharmacist. “We didn’t see a bike at his house. What kind is it?”
“It’s a ten-speed racing bike, but he’s always been
responsible on it. It’s a damn good looking bike, and expensive, but Larry got
a good deal on it. He bought it right after he got out of the institution,
before he saved enough to buy his car. I think it’s green with chrome handle
bars and has a black seat.”
Hutch sighed under his breath. “OK, thanks, Mr. Albright.
If he happens to come in, I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a call.” He handed
the older man a card. “My number is on the front. The desk Sergeant can reach
me any time day or night.”
“OK, if he comes in, I’ll call. I hope you find him,
Lieutenant. I sure would hate to see him get into trouble. He has enough on his
shoulders with Ella being in the home.”
Hutch said good-bye then walked back to his car with
Starsky. He scowled as he got in the driver’s seat.
“Well, if he hasn’t taken his medicine in months, that’s
why he went over the edge. He’s alone with all of his demons, and his mother is
locked in a world of her own. Damn, I guess I’d better put out an APB on his
bike, too. If it wasn’t at his house, he’s probably got it stashed somewhere.”
Starsky looked puzzled. “Why? Do you think he rode the
bike when he killed Sabrina, Tom, and Jeannie?”
“I don’t know, but that could be why no one saw or heard
anything. You could hear a car start up if it was late at night, but you can’t
hear somebody riding away on a bike. Albright said it was a racing bike, so by
the time anyone called the police, he could have been miles away.”
“Well, that’s just wonderful. If he’s spotted, we could
catch him in the car. But if he’s on that bike, he could disappear down an
alley or something before we even turned a corner. So what do we do now?”
Hutch started the car and pulled into traffic. “Now we
look. We’ll start with the city parks, and if we don’t find him, we’ll go to
the beach.”
Starsky shot the detective a pessimistic look. “That’s
like looking for a needle in a haystack. Only this particular haystack happens
to consist of the whole city.”
“Hey, if you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”
“I wish.”
Hours later, the two men surrendered to the futility of
their search and decided to call it a night. Hutch took the exhausted psychic
to his apartment and dropped him off. As he got out of the car, Starsky turned
to the blond.
“Do you want to try it again in the morning?”
Hutch shook his head. “Nah, we’ll give the APB a chance
to work. Every cop in this city has a description now of Larry, his bike and
the Volkswagen. There’s no sense in driving ourselves crazy. We’ll find him
sooner or later. And we have a couple of plain clothes detectives at O’Neil’s.
I don’t think he’ll show up there, but we’ve got the place staked out just in
case.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Try to look as normal as possible. Go into work as usual
and keep to your daily routine. If he thinks he’s given us the slip, he might
show himself.”
“Well, I don’t know how much work I’ll get done, but I’ll
show up, anyway. Let me know if anyone spots him.”
“You’ll be the first to know.” As the brunet started to
walk away, Hutch called out to him. “Hey, Starsky.”
When the dark-haired man turned back, he gave him an
encouraging smile. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Starsky nodded and walked away. Hutch waited until he was
safely in the building before driving off.
As Starsky walked up the stairs to his apartment, he felt
a strong urge to run down to the street and call Hutch back. The silence grated
on his nerves as the stairs seemed to take on an ominous life of their own. Oh, get real, Starsky. You’re too old to be
afraid of things that go bump in the night. This whole thing has got you
jumping at shadows. Ashby knows we’re onto him. He’s crazy, but he’s not
stupid. By now, he’s probably in the next state.
With a final look around him, he unlocked the door to
his apartment and switched on the lights. Feeling slightly foolish, he took the
autographed baseball bat from the cabinet beside the door and went through each
room carefully. There was no one else in the apartment. Laughing at his jittery
nerves, he put the bat in its rightful place and took a beer out of the
refrigerator. Although he should have been exhausted, he had to admit to
himself that he was still wired. Maybe a
hot shower will relax me. I gotta do somethin’ if I’m going to get any sleep.
He
finished the beer and tossed the bottle in the trash on his way to the
bathroom. The hot water felt good on his shoulders and back. He stayed in the
shower until the water turned cold then put on a pair of sweat pants and his
oldest, and softest, terry cloth robe. Feeling human again, he plopped into the
recliner and read the paper, hoping the dry rhetoric would make him sleepy. At least there’s nothing about Larry Ashby.
They’re doing a pretty good job on keeping it off the front page. If we’re
lucky, no one will know until he’s behind bars.
He
jumped reflexively as a car on the street below back-fired. Jesus, Starsky, get a grip, would you?
You’re as jumpy as a whore in church! If Hutch was here, he’d be laughing his
ass off. Next thing you know, you’ll have every light in the apartment on. As
he thought of the blond detective, his feeling of unease intensified. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. But it’s
not here. WHAT IS IT? He put the paper down, leaned back in the recliner
and closed his eyes. I don’t know if I
can do this. These premonitions have always just appeared. I’ve never tried to
bring one of the damned things on. But, I need to know if he’s OK. Determined
to make it work, he conjured up an image of Hutch.
Though
he’d never been to Hutch's apartment, Starsky knew that’s what he was seeing as
the detective appeared in his mind’s eye. Hutch was going through a similar
routine that he had earlier: grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, taking a
hot shower, and putting on sweat pants and a comfortable robe. His body
language revealed that he was totally relaxed and looking forward to a good
night’s sleep.
Suddenly,
the focus of the scene shifted. Concentrating harder, Starsky could barely see
a figure lurking in the multitude of plants on Hutch’s balcony. The moonlight
broke the darkness sporadically, only faintly separating the form clad in black
from the plants. As Starsky watched, the headlights from a car below raked over
the figure and glittered on the metal blade in his hand. In the background, he
could see the rope tied to the rail of the balcony and dangling down.
The
psychic blurted the name out loud. “Oh, my God. Ashby!”
He
shot out of the recliner and lunged for the phone, dialing Hutch’s number, but
disconnecting before it could ring.
“No,
if Hutch goes to answer the phone, it could spook Ashby. Oh, God, what am I
going to do? Think, Starsky! Think!”
He
snapped his fingers then clawed for the paper with Dobey’s number on it. “Where
is it? Damn it, it has to be here someplace. Oh, shit, what if I threw it out?”
Finally,
he found the number and dialed it. His finger slipped on one of the digits,
forcing him to disconnect and start over. Taking a deep breath, he carefully
dialed it again. He started talking as soon as he heard the gruff voice on the
other end.
“Captain,
you have to get somebody over to Hutch’s! Ashby’s there. He’s gonna kill
Hutch!”
“Wait
a minute! Who is this? Starsky, is that you?”
“Yeah,
it’s me. Damn it, you gotta listen! There isn’t any time. Ashby is in Hutch’s
apartment. HE’S GONNA KILL HUTCH!”
“OK,
calm down. I’m going to hang up and call Hutch, and tell him to get out of the
apartment.”
“NO!!
You can’t do that! Ashby’s standing on the balcony. If the phone rings and
Hutch goes to answer it, Ashby will be on him before you can blink. I don’t
have to tell you how good he is with that knife! Get some squad cars over there
and tell them no sirens! I don’t think he’ll do anything until Hutch is asleep.
He knows Hutch is a cop, so he won’t go down as easy as the others. But we
don’t have much time! If Hutch crawls in that bed, he’s a dead man!”
“Starsky,
I said calm down! I’ll call and have back up over there ASAP. You sit tight!
I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”
As
Dobey disconnected, Starsky growled a protest. “I’ll be damned! If you think
I’m going to sit and wait while that psycho goes after Hutch, you’re the one that’s crazy!”
The
brunet ripped off the robe and threw it toward the couch as he ran to the
dresser and shrugged into the first shirt he touched. Without slowing down, he
stuck his feet into his shoes and rushed back to the bathroom. Grabbing the
jeans he’d been wearing off the floor, Starsky took his wallet out of the back
pocket, and yanked out the card Hutch had given him, nearly tearing it in half
in his haste. He repeated the address to himself as he stuck the card in his
shirt pocket and grabbed his keys. Nearly tripping over his own feet as he
thundered down the stairs, Starsky ran for the
As
he sped toward Hutch’s
Then
he remembered the night before, and the connection he’d shared with the other
man. The bond was tenuous, Hutch’s thoughts had flickered in and out, a
collection of images more than complete thoughts. Still, he had seen Vanessa,
and knew instinctively that she had once been someone important to the
Lieutenant. The image of
Instead
of trying to communicate using words, Starsky summoned a feeling of dread, and
of imminent danger. Taking a deep breath, he projected the emotion toward Hutch
with all his internal strength. He winced, and ducked his head as a sharp pain
lanced across his temples. The
Chapter 19
Hutch parked the Ford in its usual spot and wearily
climbed the stairs to his apartment. He unlocked the door, and flipped on the
light, sighing with relief as he leaned against the door. It had been a long
day and he was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed. Shrugging out of his
jacket, he tossed it on the couch then took his holster off and hung it on the
peg on the wall.
The pain in his head had dwindled to a niggling ache
behind his eyes, but he could feel the tension in his shoulders as he
stretched. A trail of clothes lay in his wake as he headed for the bathroom. A
long, hot shower was just what the doctor ordered. He sighed as he stepped into
the steaming water. Eight hours of
uninterrupted sleep wouldn’t hurt, either.
Ten minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom
wearing an orange terry cloth robe. Rummaging through his dresser, he slipped
into a comfortable pair of jogging pants and walked back into the kitchen for a
beer. The cold brew felt so good going down that he finished it in just a few
minutes. Setting the empty bottle on the counter, he winced slightly as it
clinked against the other bottles. Hutch surveyed the kitchen guiltily. Even on
the best days, he wasn’t the most meticulous housekeeper in town, but now his
apartment resembled the aftermath of an F-4 tornado. With a long-suffering
sigh, he picked up the trash can beside the table and walked around the
apartment, picking up empty bottles and assorted other trash. Then he made
another round, gathering up dirty clothes and depositing them in the hamper in
the bathroom. Well, that’s a little
better. At least I won’t trip over something and break my neck if I get up in
the middle of the night.
Turning off the lights as he went, Hutch walked into the
bedroom and crawled into bed. God that
feels good! I think I could sleep for a month. He closed his eyes and
settled his head on the pillow. The only sound that could be heard was the
chirping of the insects and his own breathing as he drifted off to sleep. At
first, his dreams were pleasant, filled with scenes of beaches and sea gulls
flying overhead. Slowly, darkness intruded in his dreams, swirling with shadows
and figures lurking in every corner. Suddenly, a feeling of imminent danger
exploded in his mind. He opened his eyes and saw the knife floating disembodied
over him. Acting on pure reflex, he put his hand out, grunting as the cool
metal slashed downward through his flesh.
His sluggish mind barely registered the figure in black as it towered
over the side of his bed. Instinctively, he sat up and whipped the pillow
around, protecting his face, as the knife slashed downward again. For a few
precious moments, the blade was embedded in the soft foam. Hutch scooted
backward, pulling the blade and the figure behind it with him. As the phantom
leaned awkwardly across the bed, Hutch brought his knees up to his chest then
lashed out with his feet as hard as he could. Larry Ashby howled in pain as he
flew off the mattress and slammed into the window, falling to his knees.
Scrambling off the opposite side of the bed, Hutch yanked
the pillow case off the pillow and wrapped it around his hand in an attempt to
staunch the flow of blood. Holding his injured hand close to his stomach, he
ran for the front door, slapping on the lights. Without thinking, he reached
for the door knob with his injured hand. The bloody pillow case slipped off the
smooth surface of the knob, and a white hot pain lanced behind his eyes as his
hand thumped against the wooden door. He turned as he heard footsteps rushing
toward him and ducked away as Larry slashed at him once again.
Although
Hutch was several inches taller and thirty pounds heavier, the blood he’d lost
was already making him weak. The two men grappled for the knife, but the blond
was no match for the berserk killer. He shook Larry’s wrist in an effort to
make him let go, but the younger man held fast to the handle with two strong
hands. With as much strength as he could muster, Hutch punched his assailant in
the stomach then brought the edge of his good hand down sharply on his neck.
Larry gagged reflexively and slumped to the floor once more, giving Hutch the
chance to escape into the kitchen. Panting heavily from exertion, Hutch leaned
back against the refrigerator, keeping the table between him and Larry. His
holster seemed to mock at him from its place on the wall. To reach his gun, he
would have to go past Larry. He doubted that he had the strength for another
battle. Hutch spoke in a calm voice, stalling for time as he frantically
searched for a way out of the explosive situation.
“Come
on, Larry; let’s talk.”
The
enraged man pulled himself up and leaned against the kitchen divider, the knife
hanging limply at his side. His eyes glittered with insanity.
“You
laughed at me!” He whimpered plaintively. “It’s not nice to make fun of
people.”
“I
wasn’t making fun of you, Larry. Look at me. I’m not laughing. I want to help
you.”
“No
you don’t! You just want to lock me up, like those crummy doctors did. I hated
that place! They just kept shoving those pills down my throat and locked me in
my room. I know what they were doing. They didn’t think I noticed, but I could
see them pointing at me and laughing behind my back. I’m not going back there
and you can’t make me!”
“No
one’s going to make you go any where, Larry. The medicine helped you. It made
you feel better, didn’t it? We’ll find you another doctor, one that you’ll
like. He’ll give you some new medicine and it will make you well again.”
“Nothing
will make me well again. You’re just saying those things because you’re scared
of me. I hurt you once and you know I’ll do it again. You all think you’re so
special! Well, I’m the one that’s special now. You can’t hurt me any more. I
won’t let anyone hurt me any more!”
Hutch
slumped against the cold metal door of the fridge, focusing all of his
attention on Larry. The pillow case around his injured hand was turning bright
red, and he could see the red drops splattering on the floor beside his feet.
If he didn’t resolve this soon, he would be too weak to defend himself. Or
worse, he would pass out, leaving Larry the chance to close in for the kill.
Nobody knows what’s happening. They all think I’m
safe in my bed, sawing logs. OK, Starsky, this would be a good time to have one
of your visions. GET ME OUT OF THIS!!
Starsky
turned the corner onto
“Starsky,
are you sure about this? Everything looks peaceful up there.”
“Of
course I’m sure! You’re not gonna see Hutch hanging out of the window, yelling
for help, Captain. Ashby’s in there, and he’s gonna slash Hutch to ribbons if
we don’t do something right now! OHHHHH!!” Starsky
bent over and clutched his head.
Dobey
grabbed the brunet by his shoulders, supporting him. “Starsky!
David, what’s wrong?”
Starsky
straightened up slowly. “He’s hurt. I can’t tell how badly, but I know he’s
bleeding. He just sent me one Hell of a psychic SOS. He’s trying to talk some
sense into Larry, but it’s not working.”
The
brunet gazed steadily at the captain. “I have to get up there. I think I know
how to get through to him, but if we wait much longer, you’re gonna have a dead
cop on your hands.”
“Starsky,
I can’t let you do that! You’re a civilian, and you aren’t trained in hostage
negotiations. The best thing for you to do is stay out of it and let the
professionals handle Ashby.”
Indigo
eyes flashed at the black man. “Look, Captain; I’m sick of trying to prove
myself to you! Your professionals
don’t know what I know about Larry. If they start butting in, it’s only going
to make things worse.” He pointed his index finger skyward. “I’m going up there
and you can’t stop me.”
“I
can put you in handcuffs and throw your ass in a squad car!”
“Yeah,
well, that threat’s getting old, too. If you’re gonna do it, you’d better do it
now. I’m not gonna sit here and let Larry kill Hutch. So, do I go, or do I
stay? Do you really want Hutch to die, just because you can’t accept what you
can’t see?”
Dark
brown eyes bored into blue. “He could kill you, too. Once you’re in that
apartment, I can’t protect you any more. Do you understand that?”
Starsky
nodded. “I know. But there’ll be two of us. Don’t count Hutch out just yet. If
he can keep Larry talking, I’ll have a better chance of sneaking up on him.”
Dobey
waffled for a moment then took his gun out of its holster and offered it to the
psychic.
“Do
you know how to handle one of these?”
Starsky
took the gun and stuck it in the waistband of his sweat pants, in the small of
his back. The gun hung loosely, but he hoped it would stay hidden from the
deranged attacker.
“I
was in the Army, Captain. I know how to handle a gun. But I hope I don’t have
to use it. Larry’s sick. He’s not responsible for his actions. I sure don’t
wanna kill him.”
Briefly,
Dobey smiled. “I’m glad to hear you say that. But don’t put yourself and Hutch
in jeopardy. If you have to use it, anything you do will be in self-defense.”
Starsky
nodded sharply. “Well, this is it. Wish me luck, Captain. And if you hear a
whole bunch of screamin’ and yellin’, send the cavalry, OK?”
He
started to walk off then turned back. “I just thought of something. What if the
door’s locked?”
“Hutch
keeps a spare key above the door. Hopefully, Ashby didn’t find it and take it
down.”
Starsky
shook his head. “Larry didn’t go through the front door. He used a rope to
climb onto the balcony. He’s strong, and he knew no one would be watching.”
The
psychic put a thumb up and walked toward the front entrance to
Hutch
shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. His injured hand was
numb. He couldn’t tell if the bleeding had stopped, but the world around him
was slowly turning grey. The only thing holding him up was the refrigerator
door. If something didn’t happen soon, he was going to pass out. If he lost
consciousness, Hutch knew he would never wake up. Larry would be on him like
white on rice.
“Larry,
no one wants to hurt you. You’re hurting inside and you’re confused. Let me
help you. If you kill me, there’s no turning back. The police won’t stop until
they catch you.’
Larry
cackled. “They’re not going to catch me. They’ve tried before, but I always get
away. I can hide then I’ll go far away from here. But first, I’m going to make
them pay. I’ll make you all pay! You won’t laugh at me any more.”
Hutch
wracked his brain for a way to get through to the insane attacker. This wasn’t
getting them any where. They were going around in circles. He knew he didn’t
have much time. Larry was strong and relatively fresh. All the younger man had
to do was bide his time until Hutch passed out from loss of blood. Then he could
do what he wanted.
When
the door to his apartment slowly opened, he thought he was hallucinating. An
enormous feeling of relief washed over him as Starsky eased into the room.
Centering his attention on Larry, the detective tried to reason with the man.
“That
was before we knew who you were. Now every cop in this town has a picture of
you in his squad car. There’s an APB out on you with a description of your car
and your bike. It’s only a matter of time, Larry. Don’t let this go any
further. It has to stop, now. We can’t let you kill anybody else.”
Larry
raised the knife. “They had to be punished! I told you that! They laughed at
me. I just wanted to be their friend.
Why did they have to laugh at me? Why did they want to hurt me?”
Starsky
took a step farther into the room. “They didn’t mean to hurt you, Larry. They
just didn’t understand.”
Larry
started in surprise, half-turning toward the brunet. “David! What are you doing
here? How did you get here?”
Starsky
shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I want to help you, Larry.” He took another
step. “There are policemen down stairs. It’s time to end this. They’re not
going to let you get away this time. It’s over, Larry.”
“No,
it’s not over! It’s not over until I say it’s over! Why aren’t you listening to
me? They have to be punished!” Tears streamed down his face. “Don’t you
understand? They hurt me.”
Starsky
took another step. “You mean, like your dad hurt you? Is that how he died,
Larry? Was he trying to hurt you?”
Larry
stared at the other man. “How did you know that?”
“I
just do. What happened, Larry? Tell me.”
Larry
swiped under his nose with his free hand. “He was making fun of me. He called
me a baby, a momma’s boy, and said that I was nothing but a wimp. He laughed at
me and kept calling me names. I couldn’t take it any more, so I hit him. I
slapped his face, but he did that to me all of the time! Why was it okay for
him to hit me, but not for me to hit him back? Anyway, he got really mad then
and started screaming at me, cursing and telling me that I was worthless. It
was time for me to grow up and act like a man. No son of his was going to act
like a sissy, and he was going to put some steel in my spine, even if he had to
beat the Hell out of me to do it.”
Starsky
prodded him gently. “What happened then?”
“He
took off his belt and started coming after me. I could hear my mom begging him
to stop, but he kept walking toward me. He was going to hurt me. I could see it
in his eyes. So I started running. He chased me all over the house. I tried to
get out the front door, but he stepped in front of it and just laughed some
more. I ran back to the kitchen. Mom had the back door open, so I ran as hard
as I could toward it. I was almost out the door when I heard my mom scream. I
stopped and looked to see what was wrong. He was lying on the floor and his
head was bleeding. She ran to him but I kept going. I hid in the back yard
until I saw the ambulance come. When they took him away, I went to my room and
hid in the closet. I didn’t come out until she got back that night. When she
told me he was dead, I was glad. He hated me and I hated him! He didn’t have
the right to hurt me! I was his son. He was supposed to love me! But nobody
loved me, except my mom.”
Hutch
leaned back against the cool metal and watched the scene in front of him. It
was taking all of his concentration to focus on the two men. Their voices
seemed to come from inside a long tunnel; their bodies enveloped in a fog. He
didn’t speak, afraid of breaking the tenuous rapport Starsky had developed with
Larry.
Starsky’s
voice was soothing. “It wasn’t your fault, Larry. Your father shouldn’t have
treated you that way. He abused you. You were only protecting yourself.”
Larry
nodded vehemently. “He was always laughing at me! When I was sick, he told my
mom that she was just coddling me. It was just the chicken pox, he said. All
kids got them. I was making a big deal out of the scars. Nobody noticed them. I
was just being too sensitive about it.”
“But
it was a big deal, wasn’t it? The other kids made fun of you, and that hurt
your feelings.”
“Mom
said it wasn’t nice to make fun of people. She said they were bad, and someday
they would be punished. She said they were too young to know better, but when I
grew up, people still laughed at me. They were grown ups! They should have
known better.”
He
looked at the knife in his hands. “Mom said they should be punished. So I
punished them. Now they aren’t laughing any more.”
Starsky
took another step. He motioned toward the injured detective. “Hutch wasn’t
laughing at you, Larry. He’s only doing his job. He wants to help you and so do
I. Put the knife down, Larry. Let us help you.”
Larry
looked over at Hutch and whimpered. “But he’ll lock me away. I don’t want to go
back there.”
“We
won’t send you back there. I promise. We’ll take you to someone that will
understand what you went through. They’ll make you feel better. You won’t hurt
any more.”
For
an instant, it seemed as if Larry would surrender. The knife slipped in his
hand as he relaxed his stance. The light in his eyes dimmed slightly then
blazed again.
“You’re
lying! You don’t really care. You’ll say anything to save him. It’s not going
to work!”
Hutch
tried valiantly to straighten up as the berserk man rushed toward him, the
knife raised above his head. Helpless, he slumped against the door and tried to
raise his good hand in an attempt to protect himself. A single shot rang out,
and Larry dropped the knife, clutching his shoulder as he fell to the floor.
Instantly, Starsky was on top of him, pinning him with his knees.
Hutch
managed to stagger to his jacket and took his handcuffs from the pocket with
his good hand. He tossed them to Starsky as his knees gave out and he sunk to
the floor. The brunet clamped the cuffs around Larry’s wrists and rushed over
to the fallen detective. Starsky helped him to the couch then patted him on the
shoulder and handed him his gun.
“Here,
cover him while I call for the troops. I’ll be right back.”
Without
waiting for an answer, he rushed over to the window, opened it and shouted down
at Dobey and the others.
“It’s
OK, Captain. You can come up now. And call an ambulance, will you? We have an
injured cop up here!”
A
few minutes later, Larry was safely in custody and Hutch was lying on a gurney,
his hand bandaged and an IV in his arm. Starsky tossed the keys to the
“Follow
us to the hospital, will you? I’m going in the ambulance with Hutch.”
One
of the attendants started to protest, but clamped his mouth shut when he saw
the look of determination in Starsky’s eyes. Wisely, he kept silent and allowed
the brunet to climb into the back of the ambulance with the injured man.
Three
days later, Starsky sat in on the couch in Hutch’s apartment, watching him
change into more comfortable clothes. Hutch’s hand was still wrapped in a clean
white bandage, but he had managed to dress himself without assistance.
“Are
you sure this was a good idea? You lost a lot of blood the other night. Maybe
you should have stayed in the hospital for another day or two.”
“Oh,
no, I am not staying in that sad excuse for a concentration camp for another
day. The doctor said that my hand was healing and there wasn’t any permanent
damage done. I can’t go back to work for another couple of weeks, and I have to
have therapy on my hand, but I can do that as an outpatient. All I want to do
now is sleep in my own bed. And now that Larry is in San Leoni, maybe I can get
through the night without any more interruptions.”
Starsky
laughed in astonishment. “You call that an interruption? That nut tried to kill
you, Hutch! He would have carved you up like a Thanksgiving turkey if I hadn’t
got there when I did.”
“I
know that, Starsky, but it all turned out okay. By the way, I never thanked you
for saving my life. That was some shooting you did. I didn’t know you could
handle a gun like that.”
Starsky
grinned wickedly. “There’s a lot that you don’t know about me. Anyway, I was so
nervous that I’m just glad I didn’t miss him and hit you instead.”
Hutch's
eyes grew big as baseballs. “I hope you’re kidding about that.”
“I
am. Hey, have some faith. I knew what I was doing, sort of.”
Hutch
didn’t comment on that. He took a beer and a bottle of water from the
refrigerator and handed the beer to Starsky, keeping the water for himself.
He
sat down beside the brunet and sighed in contentment. “Well, it’s over, any
way. Now you can go back to work without worrying about Larry. With all the
charges against him, he’ll be in that institution for the rest of his life.”
Starsky
looked at the bottle in his hands. “I’m not going back to O’Neil’s, Hutch. I
turned my resignation in before I picked you up.”
Hutch
turned to look him in the eye. “Why? I thought you loved that job!”
“I
do! That’s not why I left. Dobey did a pretty good job of keeping my name out
of the paper, but it still said that an employee of O’Neil’s helped bring Larry
down. If people start thinking about it, they’ll remember that I was
conspicuously absent every time he killed somebody. Besides, I was with you
when you talked to Michelle. She was the one that gave us Larry’s name. It
won’t take them long to put two and two together. Sooner or later, they’ll
start asking questions, and I don’t know how I’ll answer them. I’ve fought too
hard to keep this damned curse a secret. I know I’m just being vain, but I
don’t want them to start looking at me like I was a freak of nature or
something. It’s best that I just melt into the woodwork before that happens.”
Hutch
laid a hand on Starsky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean for this to
happen. I guess that I was so intent on bringing Larry in that I didn’t think
about what this mess would do to you. I tend to develop tunnel vision when I’m
on a case. So, what are you going to do now?”
Starsky
shrugged. “I don’t know. I have a small nest egg stashed away, so that will
give me some time to think. I know I don’t want to leave
Hutch
snapped his fingers. “Why don’t you join the force? You’re smart, you have
military experience, and I know you can keep your head in a dangerous
situation.”
“Are
you serious? I never thought about being a cop.”
“Of
course I’m serious! We’re always looking for good men. It’s a hard job and the
pay isn’t that great, but with your psychic ability, you’d have one Hell of an
advantage over the scum in this town.”
He
held Starsky’s eyes with his. “You’re always saying what you have is a curse,
but it doesn’t have to be. This would be your chance to put it to good use.”
His blue eyes twinkled.
“Besides, I could use a good partner. You should see some of the green horns
Dobey tries to saddle me with. I mean, it wouldn’t happen overnight, but I
don’t think Dobey would refuse after you passed the detective’s exam.”
Starsky
took a long drink of beer. “You really think it would work?”
Hutch
slapped him on the shoulder. “Would I lie to you?” He grinned wickedly. “Of
course, you’d have to get rid of that car and buy something a little more
inconspicuous.”
“Oh,
no, I am NOT getting rid of my car! My
“Oh,
that’s real cute, Starsky. At least they don’t feel like they’re being chased
by a red tomato on four wheels.”
“Hey,
it’s not a red tomato! For your information, it’s candy apple red. And I’ll put my tomato against your squash any day.”
“Now
you’re getting personal, Gordo. My car is not a squash! Any fool can see that
it has character.”
“Now
that I think about it, it does remind me of someone, like Methuselah.”
The
two men grinned good-naturedly then Hutch held his bottle up.
“Here’s
to tomato’s and squash, and to future partners. I think this is the beginning
of a beautiful friendship.” They touched their bottles in a toast.
The
sunlight streaming in the window gave silent witness to the new bond that was
formed that day.