When Darkness Closes In

A Letter to Starsky

(From the episode, "Ballad for a Blue Lady")

 

Dear Starsky,

 

Well, partner, it's all over but the crying. Another case is successfully closed. Sure it is. If it was such a success, why do I feel so bad? Why am I sitting here, in the middle of the night, writing you a letter that I will never mail? I know I should be in bed, but I can't seem to turn my mind off. I can't get Marianne out of my head. They say that sometimes it helps to get your feelings down on paper. At least, that's what the shrinks said after I got sick with the plague. I'm a little old to write in a diary, so I thought I would do it this way. And since you're the one person that's stayed with me, no matter how much of an SOB I've been, who else would I write to? I'm not sure if it will help or not, but what the heck, I'll give it a try. The only way you'll ever see this is by accident, so no one will know I am writing you but me and the plants. OK, here goes.

How did I end up the chosen one, anyway? I mean we've both gone undercover before. Stan said I was the logical choice to go under this time, because I like music, and can carry a tune. I guess I missed the point on that one. It doesn't matter, really. Duty called, and like a good little drone, I did what I was told. I showed up at the club, wormed my way into Marianne's life, and brought her whole world crashing down on both of us.

Poor little misguided Marianne. When I told you that there wasn't room in her life for me, I wasn't kidding. Marianne was caught in the middle of a maelstrom, trying to keep Harry alive while staying one step ahead of Fitch. There wasn’t room in her life for anyone else, but did that stop me? Of course not.  Marianne sacrificed four years of her life for her brother, and for what? When she got out of prison, she went right back into the same mess. Harry was still in Fitch's clutches, and he was too weak to get out. After he murdered Benny Paycheck, it was too late anyway.

So here I came, swooping down on her like a hawk going after fresh meat. I was a fresh face in the crowd, a handsome stranger with a mysterious past. And she was the beautiful heroine, stuck in a life she never asked for. God, why does that sound like a plot for the late, late, late movie? I don't think she believed I was her knight in shining armor. We were just two ordinary people, looking for a way to keep the loneliness at bay for a while. That's okay; this armor's getting a little too tarnished for my taste anyway.

When I told you that she guessed I was a cop, that wasn't entirely true, either. I kind of let the cat out of the bag myself. Marianne didn't know who I was, or why I kept coming back. Until I started asking questions about Fitch, and his business, she thought I was what I pretended to be: a song writer from Nashville. I could have bluffed my way out of it, but why bother? The bottom line was I wanted Fitch. The fastest way to get to him was through Harry and the fastest way to get to Harry was through Marianne. I wanted to put Fitch behind bars, but the only thing she wanted was to keep her brother safe. Well, I took care of that little problem, didn't I? She doesn't have to worry about Harry any more, because he's dead. Harry's in the ground, Fitch is going to prison, and where does that leave Marianne? It leaves her out in the cold, that's where. I seduced her, took her to bed, and then took away everything that was important to her. Then I tipped my hat and said so long, leaving her to pick up the pieces by herself. Score another one for the good guys. Another scumbag goes down and another commendation goes in my file. I do my job, and if I destroy the lives of a dozen Marianne's, so what? That's the casualties of war, right buddy? It's all in the name of justice.

So why am I sitting here at one in the morning, wallowing in my own guilt? I don't know. I thought I knew what I was doing when I put on this badge, but now I'm not so sure. More and more, that piece of tin is taking over my life, and I don't like what it's turning me into. I've been avoiding mirrors lately, because I don't much care for what I see. God, Starsky, we were so naïve when we put those badges on years ago. We thought we were going to save the world. We were going to clean this town up and put ourselves right out of a job. Yeah, right. It doesn't work that way, does it? Somewhere along the way, I've lost my faith, my honor, and most of all, I've lost me. I don't know who I am any more.

I'm scared, Starsk. I have this horrible feeling of impending doom. OK, that sounds a little dramatic. So sue me. We've pushed the odds for too long, buddy. More and more, I feel like we're running out of luck. Some day, we'll stumble into a real hornet's nest and won't be able to fight our way out. I've lost so much because of this badge. You're the one person in my life that means anything to me, and I don't want to lose you, too. All the Fitch's, Forrest's, and Marcus's in the world aren't worth you.

Ah, damn. Snap out of it, Hutchinson. Feeling sorry for yourself isn't getting you anywhere. I guess I need to hit the sack. I don't know how much sleep I'll get, but tomorrow is another day.

Right, partner?

 

Yours truly,

Hutch

 

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

 

Detective Sergeant Ken Hutchinson folded the letter no one would ever see then walked into his bedroom. He opened the closet door and took out an old shoe box. Carefully, he placed the letter on top of all the others in the box. With a sigh that carried all of the pain inside, he undressed then climbed into bed. As he closed his eyes, he whispered to an empty room.

 

"I'm sorry, Marianne."

 

The End

 

 

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