~CHAPTER FOURTEEN~
​

Two envelopes, one addressed and stamped, were banked against a half drank bottle of beer. The other had a single name neatly written across it; both were on the table, Hutch sat there with several pieces of paper in front of him. His pen was poised above an empty sheet of paper unsure of what to write to his parents, who knew nothing of the trial and what had transpired over the last month or so. He had refused to let Starsky notify them, he knew it would only make matters worse, not better for him. Hutch found it hard to believe that they hadn’t read or heard about the case on the news; it had been splashed from coast to coast. Two weeks later things had calmed down, but every once in a while there would be a newspaper article in the paper or a blip on the TV, needless to say Hutch had stopped watching the news and reading the paper. ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​The hardest letter would be to his friend, his partner; he knew instinctively that Starsky would blame himself. Unlike most people who never allowed themselves to be blamed for anything, Starsky always stepped up to the plate. It made Hutch sad to know that most likely it would be Starsky who would be the first on the scene. “I can’t help it buddy, forgive me,” Hutch whispered out loud as he finally started the letter to his parents.
The phone began to ring, Hutch sighed, he knew it would be Starsky and if he didn’t answer the phone his partner would be there in less time than it took him to blink.
So he got up, crossed the room and picked up the receiver. “Hello, Starsky,” Hutch said with what he hoped was amusement in his voice. He had to keep Starsky off guard until he could finish what he had started out to do.
“Still up?”
“Yeah. I was watching an old movie.” Hutch lied as he looked around for the TV guide he knew his partners next question.
“Oh yeah, what?” There was no doubt in Starsky’s voice, only curiosity.
Hutch kind of laughed, “Well, I fell asleep while it was on, it’s over now.” The TV guide was no where in sight, he was starting to panic.
“You get some sleep, uh, Hutch?” Starsky advised letting the subject of the movie drop.
“Heading there right now,” Hutch said, “Night.”
“See ya in the morning, buddy,” Starsky responded before hanging up.


Starsky shifted restlessly in his bed, he couldn’t sleep, his mind kept worrying about Hutch. Not even the phone call had comforted him; Hutch had been so different after the day’s session, wanting to go out to eat without Starsky having to just about drag him. Since his release from jail, Hutch had scarcely left his apartment except for his sessions with Doc Sam.
Finally, Starsky understood why as they had been sitting in the restaurant earlier that evening, him with a huge plate of spaghetti, Hutch with some kind of chicken dish. “How about some wine, Hutch?” Starsky had asked.
Hutch shook his head no, “The Doc said I shouldn’t drink right now, you know, muddles the thoughts and my thoughts are already muddled enough,” Hutch joked at his own expense.
The restaurant was unusually quiet; generally it was a bustle with happy chatter among its patrons, music from an old jukebox in the corner would be playing something in Italian. But tonight it was almost dead silent save the sounds wafting in from the kitchen and the voices of a waitresses occasionally asking if they could refill a glass or get somebody some bread. Starsky looked around the room; all eyes were on their table, fingers were pointing, comments were being whispered.
He was furious; Hutch knew it by the way his jaw was flexing. Hutch reached out and put his hand on Starsky’s arm, “Is your food good?”
“Hutch…” Starsky glared at the people that were staring at them, some went back to their meals, others continued to stare.
“It’s alright.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You making a scene will not help.” Hutch said tightening his grip on his partner’s arm. He loved the fact that Starsky wanted to defend him but this was neither the time nor the place.
Starsky relaxed a bit, Hutch turned loose of his arm. “Want to get a doggy bag?”
“It’s fine, Starsk.” Hutch mumbled as he put a fork full of food in his mouth. He had been painfully aware that people had been staring since they had entered the restaurant.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” Hutch smiled at his friend.

Hutch sealed the first envelope to his parents then started on his letter to Starsky, what was he going to say? I’m crapping out on you? I can’t take it anymore? Your friendship isn’t enough? Which was exactly what he was saying, friendship just wasn’t enough… not this time. Hutch didn’t think he could spend the rest of his life with people looking at him. He knew that at some point it would die down, people would forget, but there would still be that one person out there that would remember, that would recognize him and the nightmare would start all over again.
Nor could he live with the fact that he had murdered two people in cold blood. There was no mistake that Delocasa was a scumbag that should have been under the jail, but he had no right to take his life. Brooks was only doing his job and he died for it, leaving a grieving wife behind. Hutch could still see in his minds eye, Ellen Brooks’ face twisted with hatred for him, pounding his chest with all her might, wishing that he were dead instead of her husband.
And what would his job be now? Hutch had serious doubts that he would be allowed back into the department, at least not in his present job. He would most likely be stuck behind a desk, the object of pity and speculation; not everybody bought the brainwashing theory. There were countless articles written on the subject, any where from people that deeply believed in it to those that claimed it was just used as an easy out. He would never have the respect of his peers again.
Finally, he finished his letter to his partner, there were so many things left unsaid but he just wasn’t able to express how much their friendship really had meant to him. He placed his watch in the envelope with the letter he had written, something for Starsky to remember him by. He wouldn’t blame Starsky if he tossed the watch in the ocean, he was copping out on him, leaving him alone.
Hutch got up from the table and leisurely walked around his apartment, feeling the dirt in his beloved plants, picking up things and putting them in their places. Then he went to his bed room where he slowly started undressing, he put his clothes in the hamper and slipped his terry cloth robe on his naked body. He took one last look around the room to make sure everything was in place, bed made, no underwear in the corner, not that there ever was.
Hutch went into the bathroom; he stared at his reflection a long time. He had been so hopeful when he had gone to his first session with Doc Sam mistakenly thinking; even though he had been told it would take awhile, that he would instantly feel better. He hadn’t, in fact, the things the doctor had told him scared him even more. Hutch let his mind drift back to that first session with Sam Smith.
The Doctor lead Hutch into his office which was dimly lit, two large comfortable looking leather chairs were in the middle of the room. A desk sat directly in front of a bank of large floor to ceiling windows, the curtains were drawn. The walls were lined with built in bookcases that held hundreds of volumes of books.
“Have a seat,” Sam said indicating to one of the two leather chairs.
Nervously, Hutch sat down, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He noticed a tape recorder on the doctor’s desk; he wondered if he was going to have to listen to the tape that Mayfair made or if the doctor was going to be recording their session.
“Would you like something to drink?” Sam asked as he pulled a couple of bottles of water from a small refrigerator, he held one up to Hutch who shook his head no. “Alright then, I guess we can get started.” Sam sat down in the chair next to Hutch’s. “First off, get comfortable, lean your head back, and close your eyes. Let me explain a few things, Ken. Memories of when you were being brainwashed may resurface, even though you were drugged with sleeping pills, your subconscious mind was still aware of what was going on. This is how Mayfair brainwashed you. I know you have heard the tapes he used, but that is a far cry from actually remembering what was being said to you in your head and the emotions that they might have provoked.”
Hutch nodded slowly as he put his head back on the soft leather and sunk deeper into the chair.
“You recalling what was said to you, what was drilled into your head, is what happens when we began deprogramming you, give yourself over to it. If at anytime it gets to intense, the memories are too much, tell me to stop and we will. Your mind and body can only deal with so much at one time and you are the best judge of that.” Sam spoke in a soft lulling voice.
“So, I control all this?”
“Yes, always.” Sam assured him, then he went on to explain. “You can go back into the memories and undo them. You can also put them aside. I’m not saying that you won’t remember the events that happened once we are done, but you will learn to deal with them and know it was not your fault.”
“In deprogramming a lot of feelings will come up, some of them might not be related to the brainwashing but things from your past. Remember feelings are just feelings and they can be manipulated.”
Hutch nodded in understanding, he closed his eyes feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. The doctor’s voice was soothing and he felt safe.
“You need to try to be an observer so that you can tell the truth from lies. The lies are what you were brainwashed with; being told that someone you love was going to be killed or was already dead. You must maintain your perspective, be able to step back. You then have to learn to discipline yourself so that you do not allow the junk and lies to come in to your consciousness.”
“Let us began,” Sam said.

The brown paper bag slid off the sink and landed on the bathroom floor, bringing Hutch back from his thoughts. He bent down and picked up the bag and dumped the contents into his hand, then he crumbled the bag and tossed it into the trash can under the sink.
He turned the pack of razor blades over in his hand studying them; he then opened one end of the box and took one of the blades out. Hutch ran the blade against the pad of his thumb, instantly blood filled the slice he had made. The blade was so sharp it hadn’t even hurt, Hutch held his hand over the sink as he watched the blood drip into the marble bowl. He reached over turning the water on and watched as the blood mixed with the water and went down the drain.
Hutch placed the razor blade on the edge of the bath tub, flipped the drain closed and turned on the hot water. He held his hand under the gush of water until he couldn't stand the heat, then turned on the cold, just a little; he wanted the water as hot as he could possibly stand it.
​
                                                                                               ~CHAPTER ONE~

​​ Starsky sat up bolt right in bed; he squinted in the darkness wondering what had awoken him. Just as he started to lie down again there was a loud pounding on his front door. Startled, Starsky jumped out of bed and grabbed his gun from its holster hanging over the door. He crept into the living room, without turning on a light he stood next to the door, his police training taking over.
“Come on Starsk,” said a familiar voice.
Starsky slumped in relief, it was just Hutch. “Christ Hutch, scare the crap out of….,” Starsky said as he flipped the light on and opened the door. But he stopped without finishing his thought. “Hutch are you shot?”
Hutch stood in front of his friend and partner saturated in blood; he looked shaken, almost in shock. He shook his head slowly.
Starsky pulled him into the room, looked outside quickly, then slammed the door shut. “What the hell is going on? Were you in a fight?”
“I-I’m not sure.” Hutch answered in an almost dream like state.
“If this isn’t your blood then whose is it?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“Where have you been?” Starsky asked, desperately trying to find out what happened to his partner.
“I woke up in my car like this,” Hutch said, he focused on Starsky. “What happened to me?”
“That’s what I’m asking you.” Starsky answered. “Is your car out front?”
Hutch nodded, “I drove here as soon as I …” Hutch didn’t know what to say. The last thing he really remembered was going home after work. He had fixed himself a light dinner and sat down in front of the TV. After that he remembered nothing until he found himself sitting in his car in one of the worst neighborhoods in the city. He relayed this information to Starsky.
“Let me go take a look at your car,” Starsky said, “Why don’t you take a shower, you can borrow something of mine.”
“Starsk I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Starsky asked.
“I’ll be washing away evidence,” Hutch said sorrowfully.
“Christ Hutch, just take a shower.”
“If it was anybody but me, would you be telling them that?”
“It isn’t just anybody, it’s you Hutch.”
“Forensics will need my clothes, check me out before I shower, you know that,” Hutch said looking steadily at his partner. He was starting to come back to his senses, although he couldn’t remember what had happened or what he might have done.
“Hutch this is crazy, you wouldn’t a hurt fly.”
“I have killed before.”
“In the line of duty man, that is different.
“Is it? Is it really? You know I can kill.”
“What makes you think you have killed anybody?” Starsky asked.
“Starsk look at me!” Hutch spread his arms wide. The blood was dried but there was a lot of it. Hutch’s jeans were so blood covered that the color couldn’t be made out.
“What makes you think it’s even human blood,” Starsky asked, thinking of their time in the woods with the Satanist’s who had washed their door with animal blood.
“I don’t know what kind of blood it is but I need to find out for my own sanity, Starsky.” Hutch said. “I can’t go around wondering the rest of my life if I killed somebody.”
“For the millionth time Hutch, you did NOT kill anybody!”
A loud knock stopped their conversation. “Police, open up!”
“Hutch go in the bed room, I’ll take care of this.”
“Starsky you don’t even know what you are saying, open the door.”
Starsky sighed, when he realized that Hutch was going to hold his ground he opened the door. Two policemen were standing there; one had a piece of paper in his hand. “I have a warrant for the arrest of Detective Kenneth Hutchinson for the murder of Jackie Delocasa.”
“Jackie Delocasa, that two bit hood that Hutch testified against several months ago? Just how was he murdered?
“Starsky I don’t know the details. Our orders are to bring Hutch in.”
“Come on Palmer, this is Hutch.” Starsky said grabbing the warrant out of the officer’s hand. “You know he didn’t kill anybody.”
“I’m not a Judge, Detective; I am just doing my job.” Palmer said, he didn’t look happy about having to serve the warrant. He had known both of the Detectives for years.
“It’s okay Starsk, maybe we can get to the bottom of what is going on.” Hutch said as he stepped toward the officer.
“Turn around Detective Hutchinson.” the second officer said.
“Oh come on Marks,” Starsky said, “You don’t have to cuff Hutch.”
“Sorry,” the officer apologized, “Protocol.”
“It’s okay,” Hutch said again as he turned so the officer could put hand cuffs around his wrists.
“I’m right behind you Hutch,” Starsky said.
“Why don’t you put some clothes on first,” Hutch said giving his partner a faint smile.
As Hutch was led to the squad car a tow truck was hooking up his car, he knew it was being taken as evidence.
Once at the station Hutch was quickly led to an interrogation room, uncuffed and told to sit down. When the door opened again, it was Tim from the crime scene unit. “Hi Hutch.” Tim said as he set his case on the table.
“Tim,” Hutch nodded. “I guess you are here to process me.”
Tim nodded, “I’m really sorry about this Hutch. We have a team going over your car. I got sent to do you.”
Hutch started slowly removing his clothing a piece at a time. Tim took each article with a gloved hand and placed it in a bag and labeled it. When Hutch was down to his underwear, Tim began going over his body taking photos of any cuts, scraps or bruises. He scraped under the detective’s finger nails and combed his hair over a sheet of paper, all of which were also labeled.
“Did you process the body?” Hutch asked.
Tim nodded as he put his tools away, he handed Hutch an orange jumpsuit to put on. “You can shower as soon as they let you.”
“You aren’t going to tell me anything are you?” Hutch asked the man.
“Sorry, Hutch, I can’t. But I will say this; you had better get yourself a good lawyer.” Tim told him as he left the room.
Hutch put on the jumpsuit and flopped down in one of two chairs in the room and wondered if Starsky was there yet. He knew Starsky would be tearing down the walls to get answers.

“I want to see my partner!” Starsky demanded of the desk Sergeant.
“Not until he is processed and booked Starsky.” Sergeant Thomas said.
“Then let me talk to the detectives on the case then.”
“Starsky why don’t you just take a seat?” The Sergeant said. “As soon as I have any information I’ll let you know.”
“Can I use the phone?” Starsky asked sarcastically.
“That, detective, you may do.” Thomas pushed the phone across the desk toward Starsky.
“Thanks,” Starsky growled as he picked up the receiver and dialed Dobey’s number.
When the phone rang at the Dobey household, it was Edith that answered. “Hello?” she said in a sleepy voice.
“Edith, its David.”
“David, do you know what time it is?”
“I’m really sorry but I got to speak to Cap, it’s an emergency.”
Edith could tell that he was distraught by the sound of his voice. She poked her husband who was snoring softly by her side, “Harold.”
Captain Harold Dobey grumbled in his sleep. “What?”
“Phone…its David, something is wrong.” Edith said poking him again.
Dobey held out his hand for the phone. “This had better be good Starsky.”
“Cap, Hutch was just arrested for murder. We are both here at the station.”
“What?” Dobey said up in bed. “Who was killed?”
“Jackie Delocasa.”
“That two bit street punk?”
“That’s the one. I don’t know anything else, they won’t let me see Hutch or tell me anything.” Starsky said shooting the night Sergeant a look.
“I’m on my way.”

When Captain Dobey arrived at the station he found Starsky pacing the lobby about ready to explode. “Calm down, Starsky, this isn’t helping anything.” Dobey ordered.
“Hutch has been here for two hours and I haven’t heard a thing.” Starsky said still pacing.
“Let’s see if I can get to the bottom of this.” Dobey said as he turned to address the Sergeant. “Sergeant Thomas, what detectives are on Hutch’s case?”
“Rhimes and Davis.” The Sergeant said as he looked in Starsky’s direction. He had wanted to tell Starsky but he had been given explicit instructions not too. But they hadn’t said anything about Dobey.
“Thank you,” Dobey said, he grabbed Starsky by the arm and they headed toward the elevator. “You let me do the talking when we get up there you hear me?” Starsky nodded. “You going off on them won’t help.”
“Okay, okay,” Starsky barked at his Captain. Then he sighed, “Sorry Cap.”
“I know you are worried about Hutch,” Dobey said as he let go of Starsky’s arm. “But staying cool is the way to go at this point. Rhimes and Davis are only doing their jobs.”
“Sure,” Starsky answered. He didn’t like the two detectives he and Hutch had had run-ins with them several times.

Hutch still sat in the interrogation room waiting to be interviewed, it had been over an hour since Tim had left and no one had come in. Finally, there was a light tap on the door and Terrance Rhimes entered the room. “Hutch.” The man addressed the detective. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”
Hutch sat up in the chair, “I don’t know, if I knew I would tell you.”
“Oh come on, Hutch, Jackie Delocasa was carved up like a Christmas turkey and you don’t know what happened?”
“I am assuming, that since you said carved, that he was killed with a knife?” Hutch asked.
“Are you on drugs?” Rhimes snapped as the door opened and his partner Randy Davis stepped in.
“Would you like me to pee in a cup?” Hutch growled back. He wanted to cooperate fully but it was hard since he didn’t remember anything.
“I think we could arrange that,” Rhimes answered.
“I don’t have anything to hide,” Hutch said, “I’m just as anxious to get the bottom of this as you are.”
“Then why don’t you tell us what happened,” Davis said as he sat down across from Hutch. He turned to his partner, “Ter, why don’t you get us some coffee uh?” He looked at Hutch, “You hungry?” Hutch shook his head no. “Okay then, just coffee.” Rhimes gave his partner an annoyed looked but left the room. “Sorry about him.”
“Christ Davis don’t play good cop, bad cop with me. I know the routine remember? Rhimes will get the coffee, stand out in the hall for a few minutes then come back in.”
“Sorry Hutch, habit.” Davis gave him an embarrassed grin.
“Can you please tell me what is going on?” Hutch asked.
“Jackie Delocasa was found in his apartment, he had been cut up so badly we had to finger print him to make sure it was actually Jackie. There was a knife found in the bushes out side with your prints. And we have a witness that saw your car drive away from the scene.” Davis explained. “And we have bags of your blood soak clothes down in forensics. So you tell me how it looks.”
“Bad,” Hutch had to admit. “But why would I use a knife when I have my gun?”
“You want to tell me your story?” Davis asked.


                                                                                   ~CHAPTER TWO~


Rhimes and Davis weren’t at their desks when Starsky and Dobey arrived at the squad room. “They are probably in interrogation.” Starsky said.
“Probably so,” Dobey said. “Why don’t we go to my office and wait. I’ll leave a message that they are to contact us the moment they are done with Hutch.”
“I need to be there,” Starsky said starting out the door to find which room they were interviewing Hutch in.
“You know you can’t be.” Dobey said.
“You can though, you can watch from the two way room.” Starsky said, almost in a pleading voice. “I promise I’ll go wait in your office. But somebody has to be around to hear what is going on…please Cap.”
“You are to stay in my office, no running around half cocked and getting yourself in trouble.”
“I’m heading there right now.”

Hutch sat slumped in the chair as he began telling the two detectives how he had come home from work the night before, made dinner, then nothing until he woke up in his car covered with blood.
Rhimes made a snorting noise, “You really expect us to believe that crap?”
“It’s the truth,” Hutch answered. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to take a shower to relieve himself of the gore that was sticking to his arms, chest and hair. “Why would I lie?”
“How about to keep your ass out of jail for starters.” Davis said, “And what about Starsky? Is he in on this too?”
“In on what?” Hutch asked wearily.
“The man that made an ass of you on the witness stand is suddenly dead and his lawyer is missing.”
“What?” Hutch sat up at this news. “Sal Brooks is missing? Since when?”
“Since his wife called in three hours ago because her husband never came home last night.” Rhimes said. “Is there anything you want to tell us detective?”
Dobey watched the proceedings through the two way mirror; he knew that there was no way that Hutch could have killed Jackie Delocasa. Discovering that lawyer Sal Brooks was missing shocked him. He exited the room and went down the hall to his office. He didn’t bother going through the squad room but instead entered his office from the hall. As promised Starsky was sitting at Dobey’s desk, he was playing with a paper clip as he waited for news on his partner.
The moment Dobey opened the door Starsky jumped up. “What’s going on?”
Dobey shook his head, “We are in trouble.”
“Cap, you know that Hutch did not kill Delocasa. Sure he was pissed that the scum got off but he would never go after anybody vigilante style.”
“Starsky, the lawyer is missing.”
“Brooks?”
Dobey nodded, “Apparently his wife reported him missing this morning.”
“And they think Hutch has something to do with that?”
“Starsky, you don’t understand, they found a knife out side of Delocasa’s apartment with Hutch’s prints all over it and they have a witness that said they saw Hutch drive away.”
“That is impossible,” Starsky exploded. “Hutch would not hurt either one of them.”
“Just what happened in court three months ago?” Dobey said sitting down behind his desk.
“That slime ball, Brooks, twisted Hutch’s words around and tried to damage his creditability, made it look like Hutch had it in for Delocasa.” Starsky explained. “The Judge dismissed all the kiddie porn charges against Delocasa.”
“Was Hutch mad?” Dobey asked.
“Well what do you think? We had been working on that case for months. Collecting evidence to put Delocasa away and Brooks undid his work in a matter of minutes.”
“Didn’t sound like DA had a very strong case if Brooks was able to do that.” Dobey mused.
“Just whose side are you on Captain?” Starsky exploded as he jumped to his feet.
“Do you even have to ask?” Dobey matched Starsky’s anger.
“I need to find Brooks.”
“You need to stay out of it. They are already asking if you had anything to do with it.” Dobey advised. “If something has happened to Brooks and you are the one that finds him, just how do you think it’s going to look? Just asking questions about this case could put you under more suspicion.”
“So what do you propose I do, just sit around and see Hutch on death row?” Starsky asked, a feeling of dread filling him.
“We will figure this out,” Dobey said. “But we have to be smart and we have to be careful.” A knock on Dobey’s office door interrupted them. “Come in.”
It was Rhimes; he had a warrant in his hand which he gave to Starsky, “It’s to search your apartment.”
“My apartment? Why?” Starsky’s anger was welling up. “This is bull and you know it.”
“Maybe, but we are searching your apartment, as a courtesy you can be present.” Rhimes said.
“Courtesy? If you want to do something, why aren’t you out there looking for Delocasa’s killer instead of wasting time with Hutch and I.”
“Starsky, I think we have Delocasa’s killer sitting the interrogation room. Now, we just need to find out if you are going to join him.”
Starsky was on his feet and moving toward Rhimes, if Dobey hadn’t stepped between them Starsky would have punched his fellow detective. “Starsky!” Dobey growled, “This isn’t helping Hutch.”
“Fine, let’s go,” Starsky scowled at Rhimes.
Rhimes and two uniformed officers searched Starsky’s apartment, opening every drawer and closet door. They even went as far as stripping the bed and looking between the mattress and box springs.
“Are you satisfied?” Starsky asked, not bothering to keep the fury out of his voice.
“All this means is that you were smarter than your partner.” Rhimes said as he started out of Starsky’s apartment.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Starsky asked grabbing the man’s arm.
Rhimes wrenched his arm free from Starsky’s grasp. “We have already been to Hutch’s apartment. There are messages on his answering machine from somebody named Dominic, telling him he did a good job. We found the packaging from the murder weapon tossed in Hutchinson’s trash and a note pad with Delocasa’s address written on it.”
“You don’t think for a moment that somebody is setting Hutch up?” Starsky shouted. “For Christ sakes, Hutch isn’t dumb enough to leave stuff like that lying around.”
“Guess he should have taken lessons from you, uh Starsky?”
Not being able to take anymore, Starsky popped Rhimes on the jaw. Rhimes was three inches taller than Starsky, but caught off guard the man hit the floor. The two officers were on Starsky immediately, holding him back to keep the detective from doing more damage.
“You son-of-a-bitch,” Rhimes said as he got up. He rubbed his chin, “Cuff him.”
“For what?” Mike Sanders said.
“For what? For hitting me, that’s for what.”
“I didn’t see Detective Starsky hit you, did you Paul?”
The other officer shook his head. “Sorry, didn’t see a thing.”
“I’ll have your badges for this,” Rhimes shouted as he stalked out of the apartment. “Get your own ride back to the station Starsky.”
“We’ll take you,” Paul Young said.
“Thanks guys,” Starsky said, grateful that somebody was finally standing up for Hutch. “If you ask me, somebody is railroading Hutch into a murder charge.”
“Why don’t we take a break?” Davis suggested. “I’ll take you down so you can get a shower.”
Hutch was wary of the offer, “I’m fine.”
“Come on, Hutch, you look miserable and you are starting to stink up the joint.” Davis said getting up. He pulled handcuffs from his back pocket and held them up for Hutch to see.
Sighing Hutch got up and turned around so that the detective could cuff him. “I guess I could use a shower.” Hutch admitted.
Hutch stood in the shower, the steaming water pouring down on his head. Davis had taken Hutch to the police locker room so that he could at least have a private shower. Hutch leaned his forehead on the tile of the shower wall, closing his eyes tightly, he tried to force himself to remember what had happened the night before but there was nothing. How could he have so brutally murdered somebody, even if it was a scum like Delocasa?
“Get his ass out of there,” Hutch heard Rhimes’ voice as he was toweling off. A clean orange jumper, underwear, socks and prison issued shoes were on a bench just out side the shower. Quickly, Hutch put the clothes on. As he was tying the shoes, Rhimes stepped into the locker room. “Feel better now pretty boy?”
“Much,” Hutch said, refusing to let Rhimes get the best of him.
“Now, if you would like to go back to the interrogation room, I have some more questions to ask you.” Rhimes held out the cuffs. Once again Hutch allowed himself to be cuffed.
“Hey, take it easy,” Hutch exclaimed as Rhimes tighten them a little too much pinching Hutch’s skin.
Rhimes snorted, “This will be nothing compared to what will happen to you in prison. Those guys are going to love a blondie like you and the guys that aren’t trying to blow you will be trying to blow you away.”
Hutch glared at the detective but held his tongue. He was smart enough to know he was in enough trouble with out making more for himself. He wondered what Starsky was doing; he hadn’t seen him since he had been arrested at his partner’s apartment.
There was a cup of coffee and a sandwich sitting on the table when Hutch was ushered back into the interrogation room. No doubt it had been put there by Davis, but he was no where in sight. Rhimes had no intention of letting Hutch have the items. “Sit,” Rhimes growled at Hutch. “We have been to your apartment.” Rhimes tossed two plastic bags on the table; one contained the packaging of the knife, the other the pad of paper with Delocasa’s address on it. He had a third bag with Hutch’s answering machine in it.
Hutch picked up both plastic bags up and examined them one at a time. He shook his head as he looked at them. “I don’t remember buying a knife, or writing down this address. I have no idea where Delocasa lived.”
“I guess that is why you had to write it down.” Rhimes answered. Then he asked, “Is that your hand writing?”
Hutch looked at the pad of paper closely, “Yes.” A sick feeling was growing in the pit of Hutch’s stomach. It was becoming clearer as the evidence mounted, that he had indeed killed Delocasa. But why? Yes he had failed to put the man behind bars and he was angry that day in court, but he and Starsky had been busy with other cases and he had thought little about Delocasa. He needed to talk to Starsky badly, he needed to sort things out and the only way he could do that was to talk to his partner. “Can I see Starsky?”
“What? So you two can collaborate on what you are going to say?” Rhimes asked.
“It’s clear that you have me, what can I gain by talking to my partner?”
“Not much you can gain by trying to cover your ass I guess.”
“Starsky had nothing to do with this. He wasn’t in court that day and had nothing to do with the case.” Hutch said.
“But he would do anything for you, Hutchinson, and you know it.”
“He would not kill, nor cover up for me.”
“Are you so sure about that?” Rhimes asked as he turned his jaw toward Hutch. It was already turning an angry shade of purple.
“Starsky?” Hutch asked as the smallest of smiles played quickly across his face.
“I was leading the search of his apartment.”
“You leave Starsky out of this.”
“That is kind of a hard thing to do knowing how close the two of you are. And besides, where did we find you covered in blood?”
“I went to Starsky for help; he was shocked to see me covered in blood. Just as shocked as I was to be covered in blood. I had no where else to go.”
“How about to the station?”
Hutch dropped his head in his hands, he was exhausted. It felt like he hadn’t had any sleep in days, weeks for that matter.


                                                                                       ~CHAPTER THREE~


Starsky stood out side Hutch’s apartment, yellow police tape was taped in an X over the front door proclaiming that this was a crime scene and it was unlawful to enter. That was unless you were with the police, which he was. He tried the door knob, it was locked so Starsky felt above the door frame for the spare key Hutch always kept there. At first he was afraid that the key had been found by the officers but at last his fingers touched the cold metal.
Hutch’s apartment was a shambles, drawers were dumped up side down, many of Hutch’s prized plants were turned over, their dirt spilled to the floor. It looked as though his place had been robbed instead of searched. Starsky went into the bedroom, it looked no better than the living room had. How could they have found so much incriminating evidence on Hutch? He knew there was no way that his partner could have done what he was being accused of.
Starsky pushed the mattress back on the bed; something caught his attention that was lying between the bed frame and the bedside table. He leaned over and retrieved the object. His brow furrowed and he put the item in his pocket.

It was trash day as Mel Sanders backed his truck up to the trash receptacle; it wasn’t as easy as it looked and Mel took pride in his work even if it was smelly and dirty. He prided himself on making sure all the trash was picked up even if it fell out when he was dumping it. As he was tipping the dumpster over the top of his truck he thought he saw something unusual fall in. He immediately jammed his controls in the stop position, leaving the dumpster swinging over his truck.
Mel jumped out of his truck and clamored up the side and looked in. What he saw there brought bile to his throat and as he jumped back down he lost his breakfast in the alleyway. After wiping his mouth on his sleeve he hopped back into his truck and radioed his dispatcher.
Al Linney and his rookie partner, Kurt Wilder, were the first officers on the scene. Wilder joined Sanders breakfast with his own after he and his partner got a look at the body. “What is this Thanksgiving? Linney asked eyeing the body, then he turned to his partner, “Pull your self together, Wilder, you are gonna see this much and more before you are done.” Wilder nodded, he was still bent over, hands on his knees knowing for sure more was coming up.
“Man I have seen some things in my life but nothing like that,” Mel said from the ground, he was looking up at the old veteran officer. With the drivers words the rest of Wilder’s breakfast came up.
“Wilder!” Al barked at his counter part. “Go call for back up, and get the crime lab and meat wagon out here.”
Wilder waved his hand to his partner spit the last of the vomit from his mouth and went to the squad car.

Finally, as it had been nearing midnight, Rhimes had pronounced that it was time to call it a night and Hutch had been escorted to a private cell. Rhimes knew it was a death sentence for an officer to be put in with other inmates. He didn’t much care but he wanted Hutch alive so that he could nail him to a cross and send him to Federal Prison.
Now, Rhimes was standing in Hutch’s cell looking down on the sleeping detective. “Better sleep well because after this you will have to sleep with one eye open.” Rhimes mumbled then kicked the bed frame roughly.
Hutch was jolted from his sleep, he felt as though he had just laid down. He was anxious to talk to Starsky but he was sure that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. He was comforted by the knowledge that his partner was most likely doing everything humanly possible to get him out.
Rhimes kept kicking the bed, “I’m awake,” Hutch growled at the man. Rhimes was about to push him to his limit. He wasn’t sure he could take one more day of this.
“On your feet, Hutchinson.” Rhimes grabbed the thin sheet that had been covering the detective. “We got some more talking to do.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you,” Hutch moaned.
“Well, how about Jackie Delocasa’s lawyer ending up in a dumpster carved up just like his client?”
“What?” Hutch rolled off the bed. The news shook him to his very core. He didn’t see how he could do that to one man let alone two.
As the two detectives were coming down the hall toward the interrogation room, Captain Dobey was walking in long strides to meet them before they entered the room. “Are you alright Hutchinson?” Dobey said looking into Hutch’s red rimmed eyes. Hutch nodded. Dobey then turned his attention to Rhimes. “When was the last time he had anything to eat?”
Rhimes shrugged, he hadn’t allowed Hutch to have the coffee or food Davis had provided. “I need to ask him some questions.”
“Have you booked Hutchinson yet?” Dobey asked, already knowing the answer to the question, as his first stop that morning had been to central booking.
Rhimes shook his head no.
“You either book my detective or you release him.” Dobey stormed.
“You know the law; we can hold him twenty-four hours without booking him.”
Dobey looked at his watch, “Well your time was up several hours ago. So, like I said, release him or book him.”
About that time Davis came down the hall holding a manila folder. He held it up for Rhimes to see. “Why don’t you step in here with us Captain?” Rhimes said holding open the door for Hutch and Dobey to enter. He took the folder from Davis and opened it. The photos inside made his stomach roll as he looked at them. He flipped the file shut and tossed it on the table. “Have a seat Hutchinson.”
Before Rhimes could say more there was a tap on the door. Davis opened it to find Starsky standing there. “We are integrating a suspect.” Davis said and started to close the door.
Rage played across Starsky’s face and he put his hand on the door to prevent it from closing. “Let him in,” Rhimes said. “He’s next anyway.”
The moment Starsky saw Hutch, his face softened, “You okay?”
Hutch nodded, but he didn’t look alright to Starsky. He looked defeated, haggard and miserable. The two men locked eyes for a moment.
“This is all really sweet,” Rhimes barked, “But this is a murder investigation, so, if you don’t mind.”
Davis reached over and took the folder, “Sal Brooks was found this morning in a dumpster.” As he said the words, he tossed out photos of Sal’s carved up body on the table. Then he added photos of Jackie Delocasa, neither man was recognizable. “Forensics says the same weapon was used in both killings”.
“And since your prints are all over the murder weapon, Hutchinson, I guess that makes you the murderer doesn’t it? Two counts! I can see death row in your future.” Rhimes announced.
“This is bullshit!” Starsky yelled, he advance on Rhimes. “You would like nothing better than to see Hutch and me off the force and you don’t care how that happens.”
“Starsky,” Dobey barked at his detective.
“I’m tired of pussy footing around these two,” Starsky stormed. “They have had it out for us from day one. What the hell did we ever do to you?”
“I just call’em as I see’em,” Rhimes said, his face tightening with anger. “The evidence says that Hutchinson is the killer.”
“And you know that evidence can be tampered with.” Starsky sputtered in his fury.
“Are you saying I set up Hutchinson, is that what you are saying?” Rhimes asked. “You are right, I don’t like you and Hutchinson, I don’t like the way either of you do your job but I would never tamper with evidence. I’m doing my job!” Rhimes left the room slamming the door behind him.
Davis looked at Dobey and Starsky, “Listen guys, we aren’t behind this.”
“Have you been checking into who might have it out for Hutch?” Starsky asked as he stuck his hand in his coat pocket and fingered what he had found in Hutch’s apartment.
“I kind of thought we would leave that up to you Starsky.” Davis said stepping closer to the detective. “Nobody knows Hutch and your cases better than you do.” Starsky looked at the shorter man in surprise. “Listen, Starsky, like Rhimes said it’s no secret that we don’t you like and your partner but I don’t want to see Hutchinson on death row either if he didn’t do it. At this point it looks like he did it, but if you find out other wise both Rhimes and I will be all ears.”
“Do you have any questions for me?” Starsky asked.
Davis shook his head slowly, “There hasn’t been any evidence that you had anything to do with this. If you want to talk to your partner for a while go ahead.”
“And get him something to eat,” Dobey ordered. After Davis left the room, Dobey turned to Starsky keeping his back to the two way mirror. “Be careful what you say, I will bet my house that at least Rhimes is in there listening to everything you two are going to say.”
Starsky nodded and walked toward the table where Hutch sat, he pulled up a chair opposite his partner and sat down. The photos were still spread on the table. Hutch’s eyes were glued to them. No matter how much he wanted too he couldn’t tear his eyes from the gruesome photos.
Starsky scooped up the photos, shoving them back into the folder. “How are you, Hutch, really?” Starsky asked, concern filling his eyes.
“Starsk, what if…what if I did this?”
“Hutch you did not do this.” Starsky said looking his partner square in the eye. “I know you.”
“Do you? Do you really?” Hutch asked. “How do you explain the fact that I showed up at your apartment covered in blood? Delocasa’s blood, was I covered with Brook’s blood too?”
“There has been no evidence of that.” Starsky said, he reached across the table and put his hand over Hutch’s. He was alarmed to feel Hutch trembling under his touch. “Just how long has it been since you have eaten?”
Hutch shrugged, “I can’t even remember the last time I ate.”
“You haven’t eaten since you have been here?”
Hutch shook his head no, not that he had much felt like eating anyway. But hunger was suddenly gnawing away at his gut and he was feeling light headed.
Starsky got up and went to stand in front of the two way mirror; he pounded on the glass with both fists. “Get my partner food, NOW!”
With in minutes Davis stepped into the room with a tray brimming with food. “Sorry it took me so long,” The detective apologized. “I got side tracked. And I’m sorry that Rhimes is being such an ass.”
“Thanks,” Hutch said looking at the food.
“Take as much time as you need.” Davis told them. Then in an almost apologetic tone, “You’ll have to be booked when you are done.”
Hutch nodded and Starsky said, “I appreciate it Davis.”
Once Davis was gone, Hutch looked at the food before him. There was a hamburger, vegetable soup, French fries, a cup of coffee and a can of pop. He pushed the fries toward his partner and started on the soup. After the first bite, Hutch’s stomached protested but the soup stayed down so he tried a bite of hamburger.
After Hutch had finished eating he felt a bit better and would be able to face what came next. Starsky leaned over the table toward him. In a whisper he said, “You hang in there, Hutch, I’m going to follow some leads.”
“Leads? What kind of leads?”
Starsky looked around at the mirror, “I can’t tell you, just trust me.”
“You know I do.”
“Answer me one question.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you ever listen to a radio with ear phones?”
A puzzled expression crossed Hutch’s face. “No, at least not since I was a kid.”
“Do you even own any?”
Hutch shook his head, “What is this about?”
“Like I said, trust me buddy.” Starsky got up. “This might be the last time they let me see you for awhile.”
“I know.”
“I’ll find you a good lawyer. Somebody we can trust.” Starsky promised.
The door opened and Rhimes stepped in. “Ready?”
“Let’s get this over with,” Hutch said.

                                                                                      ~CHAPTER FOUR~


Starsky tapped on the office door of Tim Grandy “Yes?” Starsky opened the door and stepped in. “Ahhh, Detective Starsky, I was wondering when you were going to grace my office. Have a seat.”
“Hutch did not do this,” It was the first thing that popped out of the detective’s mouth.
“Wouldn’t expect you to say any less Starsky,” Tim smiled at him.
“Do you have anything for me at all, any thing to prove that Hutch didn’t do this?”
Tim looked at Starsky sadly, “Seems like every bit of evidence that comes in makes more of an air tight case against Hutch. Somebody is setting him up.”
“Have you ever thought for a moment that perhaps Hutch just snapped and killed both of them? There is a lot of stress in your line of work; it’s almost like being in a war. He might be suffering from Delayed Stress Syndrome.”
“Hutch did not do this.” Starsky repeated.
“He was taking some pretty heavy doses of sleeping pills.” Tim said. “The toxicology report came back this morning. I know Rhimes was looking for illegal drugs but all I found was a hefty dose of Temazepam.”
“Sleeping pills? Hutch?” Starsky shook his head back and forth. “Hutch would never take sleeping pills.” His partner barely took aspirin after his forced addition to heroin years before. “Did you tell Rhimes and Davis about it?”
“No, they only asked about illegal drugs, I did give them the report but unless they knew what they were looking for I would doubt they would know what Temzaepam is.”
“Well, unless they ask you directly, let’s just keep this information between us.”
“Say no more.” Tim said as his phone rang. “Hello? Yes, yes I see. I’ll be right there.”
“I guess I had better let you get back to work.” Starsky said as he started to get up.
“You might be interested in this.” Tim said, also standing. “A shirt and slacks were just brought in; they were found in the dumpster where Brooks’ body was found. They were covered in blood, my guess the blood will be from Brooks and the clothes will belong to the killer.”
“This could clear Hutch.” Starsky said excitement in his voice.
“At least of this murder.” Tim said opening his office door; he held it for Starsky as they entered the hall. “If you want you can come in with me while I process the evidence.”
“Sure,” Starsky answered.
In the lab Tim pulled the blood soaked clothes from an evidence bag, they were stiff with the dry blood. The first thing the man did was scrape some of the dried blood in to a small baggie and gave it to one of his co-workers to process. Then Tim spread out the clothes as best he could and started going over every inch of the clothing. Spying a hair he tweezed it and held it up to the light.
Much to Starsky’s dismay it looked like a blond hair. Tim put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Starsky. “Hang onto this for me. I’ll process it myself.”
After finding little else on the clothing, Tim took the baggie from Starsky and they went over to a table with a microscope and several other machines that Starsky knew nothing about. After processing the hair Tim punched some numbers in a computer, the information from the hair they collected was on the left side of the screen and hundreds of possible matches flipped by them on the right side. Suddenly the computer stopped, it had a match to the hair found on the clothing.
Starsky felt as all the air had been sucked from his lungs for the name on the screen was Kenneth Hutchinson.
“I’m sorry Starsky.” Tim Grandy said, “DNA doesn’t lie, that is Hutch’s hair.
“Thanks, Tim,” Starsky said, he felt as though he were in a bad dream and couldn’t wake up. Then he though of Hutch, what was going to happen to his partner. Unless he found something, Hutch was going to go jail for the rest of his life and possibly end up on death row.

Hutch sat in his small cell; he looked at his fingers, ink was still in the ridges of his finger tips. At least he hadn’t been made to strip and shower since he had already done that and had on the jails jump suit. Now all he could do was sit and wait and hope that Starsky found something. He wanted his partner to find something, anything that would prove that he didn’t do these awful crimes, for if he had done them he wasn’t sure he could live with himself.
“Come on, Joe, just a few minutes.” Hutch stood up, he could hear Starsky. He pressed his face to the bars trying to look down the long row of cells; very few of them had prisoners in them for which he was thankful for.
“Starsky, I could lose my job.”
“I swear I will be quick, I just have one question. Please.”
Hutch could hear the desperation in his partner’s voice. “Starsky?”
Starsky looked pleadingly at Joe Stamford, “Oh go on. Two seconds though.”
“You got it Joe,” Starsky ran down to Hutch’s cell which was the very last one. “Hutch, I need to know something, are you taking sleeping pills?”
“What? NO, no, you know I don’t take anything.” Hutch said, “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure and I don’t have time to explain,” Starsky said as he glanced down the hall at Joe who was motioning for him to come. “Hang in there buddy.”
Starsky was gone as quickly as he had shown up, leaving Hutch alone again. It was killing him that he wasn’t able to be out on the streets to clear his name.

Huggy Bear was pouring a mug of beer when Starsky entered the Pit’s. The moment that Huggy saw the detective he handed the mug off to one of his waitresses and cornered Starsky. “Is it true?”
“Depends on what you are talking about.” Starsky asked.
“Hutch is in jail for two murders?”
Starsky flopped down on one of the bar stools. “That didn’t take long to get around did it?”
“So, it is true.”
The detective nodded sadly, “And I don’t know how to get him out. I have a few odd clues but I don’t know what to make of them.”
“Why don’t we retire to my abode and you can tell me about what happened and what you have.” Huggy suggested. He took off the apron he was wearing.
They both went up stairs to Huggy’s apartment. Starsky sat down in the nearest chair, he was exhausted, he hadn’t slept since Hutch had awakened him from his sleep the morning before. Starsky quickly brought Huggy up to speed as to what was going on. Then, he pulled from his pocket what he had found next to Hutch’s bed.
“What is that?” Huggy asked eyeing the object.
“Ear phones, you know the kind you would listen to a radio with.” Starsky said handing them to Huggy.
“No wonder Hutch is in jail if this is all you have,” the black man quipped.
Starsky sighed, “I know it’s not much but it is something. It proves there is something else going on here. They don’t belong to Hutch, I asked him, and I found them between his bed and the bedside table.”
“A girl friend could have dropped them.” Huggy said handing the ear phones back to Starsky.
“Is that all you have?”
“No, there was something interesting that came back on Hutch’s blood tests they took at the station. He had sleeping pills in his system.”
“Hutch?” Huggy knew all about Hutch’s addition and had helped Starsky get him straight. “Hutch wouldn’t touch that crap.”
“I know, I made them let me in to talk to him. I asked about the sleeping pills, he said he wasn’t taking them.” Starsky said. “So how did they get into his system?”
“Have you searched his entire apartment?” Huggy asked.
“As well as I could, the place was pretty much trashed when I got there. It was a miracle I found those ear phones.”
“Can you get back in there?”
“Sure, Davis, one of the detectives on Hutch’s case pretty much told me to do what I could to prove Hutch was being set up.”
“Well, ear phones and sleeping pills aren’t going to do that.”

“Please don’t, I’m begging you,” Jackie Delocasa pleaded, fear written on his face. He was on the floor of his apartment. A knife wielding figure loomed over him. There was a slashing motion, and the knife clipped Jackie’s cheek, blood ran down the side of his face and dripped on the carpeted floor. Tears were flowing freely from Jackie’s eyes as he pleaded for his life. But he could tell from the look on the man’s face he would not be spared. The knife was held high in the air, he held his breath as his killer stabbed him in the chest….
Hutch rolled on his cot, sweat was pouring from his brow, suddenly he jerked awake and sat up. The dream that he was having…no the nightmare he was having was of Jackie Delocasa begging for his life. How could he know that, unless he was there? Hutch swung his feet over the side of the cot resting his feet on the cold concrete floor; he dropped his head in his hands. Hutch no longer believed that he didn’t do the crimes of which he was accused of.
He was still sitting motionless on the edge of the cot when a man dress in an impeccable three piece suit, carrying a briefcase, came to stand in front of the cell. “Detective Hutchinson?”
Hutch looked up, at first he couldn’t focus on the man standing on the other side of the bars. “Yes.”
“My name is Frank Conners, I am your lawyer.” The man said in a business like tone.
Hutch got up and came closer, “Did Starsky send you?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know a Starsky.”
“Then who?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Connors said. “I’m here to get you out of jail.”
“I think I’m where I belong,” Hutch said turning his back on the stranger.
“You listen to me.” Conners hissed, “I don’t want to hear that come out of your mouth again. I do not lose cases, in fact, I have never lost a case and I don’t plan on starting now.”
Hutch spun around, “Then you had better not take this one. I’m guilty, I killed two men in cold blood, and one of them was a lawyer so you had better watch your step.”
The man didn’t even blink, “Do you really want to go to jail for the rest of your life Hutchinson? I’m sure you know what happens to cops in jail.”
“No, I don’t want to go to jail but I’m not sure I would want my self out on the streets either. I snapped, I carved up two people I…I…”
Conners stood patiently, until Hutch ran out of words. Then he said, “Do you have that out of your system? I’m sure, as an officer, you know that many, many, guilty people walk out of court every day free. Besides, I have been assured that you murdering these two men is totally out of character for you. And that, if indeed you did do these crimes then there has to be something behind it.”
“Who sent you?” Hutch said, he disliked the man, he reminded him too much of shady lawyers like Sal Brooks.


​                                                                                                ~CHAPTER FIVE~
​

“Bail?” The Judge looked at Frank Conners over the top of his glasses.
“My client has an impeccable reputation; he is an outstanding officer of the law and has been decorated several times. I have a long line of character witnesses that will vouch for his honesty and that he will not flee the city.”
“I am sorry, Mr. Conners, but the charges against Mr. Hutchinson are far too serious to release him. I have reviewed the evidence against Mr. Hutchinson and it is my decision that he will remain in jail until his trial, which will be set to start two weeks from today. I want to give counsel ample time to prepare for this case. Mr. Hutchinson will be remanded back to Parker Center; he will also be separated from the other prisons.
Hutch sat motionless, his face pale and his eyes tired and tortured. Starsky sat directly behind him, his face fell when the Judge denied bail. He didn’t really think that it would be granted but he had held out hope. At least the Judge wasn’t sending Hutch else where and Starsky could still be close even if he hadn’t been allowed to see him.
Starsky had talked to Frank Conners twice. He told him about the ear phones and the sleeping pills but the lawyer dismissed it as nothing. Conners was set to plead temporary insanity due to Delayed Stress Syndrome. Starsky had yelled at the man that Hutch was not crazy. Conners had just looked at Starsky and gone back to what he had been writing on a legal tablet.
Hutch was led out of the court room in leg irons and his hands cuffed behind his back like a hardened criminal. Conners turned in his seat to look at Starsky behind him. “I have arranged for you to see your partner.”
“When?” Starsky asked eagerly.
“Right now.” Conners answered. “Second office to your left as you go out.”
“Thank you.” Starsky said as he jumped to his feet and headed toward the back of the court room.
Hutch sat in a chair with his back to the door, he was handcuffed to the chair and an armed guard was out side the door. There was a soft knock on the door and then it opened, Starsky stood there staring at the back of his partners head.
“Hutch?” Starsky said softly, when his partner didn’t turn around he walked to stand in front of him. “Hutch.”
Still Hutch didn’t respond, Starsky crouched down next to him and put his hand on his friend’s knee, “Are you alright?”
Hutch shook his head no but still didn’t speak.
“Can I get you anything?” Again Hutch shook his head no. “Hutch talk to me.”
“I just want to go back to my cell.” Hutch said so softly that Starsky could barely hear him.
“You are going to get out of this; I promise I won’t give up.”
“Starsky,” Hutch began, he looked up at his friend, “I’m guilty, I did it. I deserve what’s going to happen to me.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth.” Hutch said as his eyes filled with tears. The nightmares had continued and they had gotten more vivid as time went on. When Hutch would wake up he was disgusted and sickened at what he had done to the two men.”
“No, Hutch, I know you. You couldn’t have done this.” Starsky said Hutch’s mood was frightening him; it was if he had given up.
“Starsky, just forget it, forget me.”
Starsky felt like he couldn’t breathe, he hadn’t ever seen Hutch like this before. “Hutch…please.”
“Guard!” Hutch called loudly. Instantly the door opened and the guard stepped in. “I’m ready to go back.”
“Hutch, come on.” Starsky pleaded.
The guard released Hutch from the chair and re-cuffed his hands behind his back. “Starsky, just go on with your life, I’m a lost cause.”
Starsky stood dumbfounded as he watched his partner being led out of the room. How was he supposed to help Hutch when Hutch had given up? Defeated, Starsky left the room; he didn’t know where to turn. He didn’t know how to help his partner. His only two pieces of evidences were meaningless by themselves even though Starsky knew that they meant something, he just couldn’t figure it out.
“Are you okay son?” Dobey had come up behind Starsky. He put his hand on his detective’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting action.
“He has given up Cap.” Starsky said turning to face his Captain. “And I just don’t know what else to do. I have been to his apartment a million times going over it hoping that I have missed something. But there is nothing to be found.” Starsky looked at Dobey, his eyes swimming in tears, “God help me, but I think that Hutch really did do it. But why? What caused him to snap? I know him, I know he wouldn’t go after them for any reason but I can’t prove it.”
“I know you love him,” Dobey replied. “But maybe it’s just time to let go. I know how hard it is. I don’t want to see Hutch in jail anymore than you do.”
“I can’t let go,” Starsky said. “I’ll keep looking until I find something I don’t care how long it takes.

The two weeks went by quickly for Starsky who was desperately trying find anything in defense of his partner. For Hutch the time dragged, he wanted it be over so that he could settle into his new prison life and get use to the fact that he would most likely be on death row in San Quinton, one of the toughest prisons in the country. He figured that he probably wouldn’t last a year in prison. All it would only take one inmate that he had sent there to stick him in the gut and it would be over with. It might not be all that bad at least he wouldn’t have to live with the pain of ending two lives.
Now that Hutch had his arraignment, Starsky was allowed to see him but Hutch refused to see him and would barely speak with his lawyer. Huggy, as well as Dobey, tried several times to see him but were turned away each time.

As the prosecution started their case, the court room was filled to its capacity, TV cameras and anchor men swarmed the steps of the court house. Hutch’s photo was splashed on the front of every newspaper in the city as well as the photos of the two victims. The city was divided between those who wanted to see the killer cop put on death row and the others who wanted to pin a medal on him for getting rid of two slime balls.
Starsky still had not come up with any more evidence and Conners wasn’t even looking, he was planning a defense of Delayed Stress Syndrome. He hoped to keep Hutch off the stand because in his mental state he would only hurt his case. Even though Starsky didn’t like it, it was better than seeing his friend in prison.
Hutch sat in court, hand cuffs and leg irons removed; he was dressed in dress pants and a sport jacket instead of his attire of the last few weeks of the orange jumpsuit. Starsky sat directly behind him, Dobey and Huggy Bear were at his side. Davis and Rhimes were sitting in the back waiting to be called upon to testify in the case.
The prosecution started dragging out the evidence, photos of the disfigured bodies, the knife, the packaging that had been found in Hutch’s trash, the address written in his hand writing, two sets of bloody clothing and the answering machine. Item by item they explained each piece of evidence and how it put another nail in Hutch’s coffin. Only hitch was that nobody, neither the prosecution nor defense could find Dominic, the voice on the answering machine.
“This…” Don Riseling held up the answering machine. “Has the voice of a man named Dominic telling the accused that he had done a good job.”
“Objection!” Roared Conners. “You have no evidence that the voice on the answering machine has anything to do with the murders. He could be referring to anything. And since this elusive Dominic has not been found to ask, there is no way to know.”
Judge Adams nodded in agreement. “Move on Mr. Riseling, the answering machine holds no merit.”
“If you would bear with me and allow me to play the recording.” Riseling asked.
Sighing the Judge nodded. “Alright but make it quick Mr. Riseling and then lets move on.”
Riseling hurried back to his table, pulled the answering machine out of a large plastic bag and depressed the play button. “Hutch this is Dominic, you did a fine job.”
No one but Starsky noticed the difference in Hutch. He suddenly became alert and began looking around the room. He started to get to his feet but Conners put his hand on Hutch’s shoulder without even thinking. Hutch settled back in his chair but remained alert.
“Let me play that one more time,” Riseling said having already rewound the recording and depress the play button before the Judge could call him on it.
“Hutch this is Dominic, you did a fine job.” Hutch went almost limp; he slumped in his seat again looking at his hands.
Starsky could hardly believe what he had just seen. Whatever had just happened with Hutch had something to do with that recording.
“Alright Mr. Riseling that is enough.” The Judge yelled, “Have the recording stricken from the record and I’m instructing the jury to disregard what they just heard. As Mr. Conners pointed out that could be in reference to anything. Now, if you can produce this Dominic then we will listen to what you have to say about this evidence.”
Riseling stuffed the recorder back into its plastic bag but he had a small smile on his face for the damage had been done. The jury had heard the recording and no matter what the Judge had told them to do, it would still be in the back of their minds.
“Conners,” Starsky hissed at Hutch’s lawyer. Conners glanced over his shoulder at Starsky but ignored him. “Conners!” Starsky said louder.
“What is it Starsky,” Conners whispered.
“Call a recess,” Starsky said
“What? Why?
“I can’t explain it here. Just call a recess NOW!”
Conners was clearly annoyed but after the fiasco with the tape recording, he wasn’t too opposed to it. He stepped away from Starsky, “Judge Adams, I would like to ask for a short recess.”
The Judge looked at his watch, “Why don’t we just call it a day gentlemen.”
Riseling wasn’t about to object, having the last thing the jury heard being the tape. It would settle even more into their subconscious.
Hutch’s lawyer wasn’t happy about the Judge recessing until the next day for the same reason that the prosecution was happy. He knew that the recording had surely made an impression.
Conners and Starsky were in the same office that Hutch had been in two weeks before. “You know you probably just put your partner in jail.” Conners boomed at Starsky the moment the door was closed. “The jury is going to remember that man’s voice on that tape. It made Hutchinson sound guiltier than hell. It doesn’t matter if the message had to do with the murders or sweeping a walk, they are going to think that he did a wonderful job killing those two men.”
“Just shut up!” Starsky stormed back. “I have let you rail road Hutch in to this Delayed Stress Syndrome defense bullshit, because I couldn’t find any evidence pointing to Hutch not killing Brooks and Delocasa. But I think we finally got something.”
“What?” Conners threw his hands up in the air. “What do you have? Would you care to share it with me?”


                                                                                                       ~CHAPTER SIX~


​​ Starsky paced the room, “This is going to sound nuts but when Riseling played that tape did you notice Hutch’s demeanor?”
“You had me call a recess for this? Your partner had a reaction to a voice that is probably going to put him on death row, what a shocker.” Conners fumed. He was angry now; the detective could have just blown the whole case.
“You don’t understand. There was something about that tape that triggered something in Hutch. Before the tape was played Hutch was sitting there his head down, defeated but the moment the tape was played he was alert, looking around and even tried to get up. Don’t you remember you had to put your hand on his shoulder to keep him in his seat?” Conners nodded that he remembered doing that. “Then,” Starsky continued. “When the tape was played a second time Hutch reverted back to the way he had been, slouching in his seat not really paying attention.”
“Are you sure?” Conners asked, doubtful that what he was being told could hold any bearing on the case.
“Listen Conners, I have known Hutch for a long time. We are together most of the time, we are as close as brothers and I know what I saw.” Starsky said, “He reacted to that tape, almost as if he had been hypnotized.”
“Let me see if we can’t get a hold of that tape,” Conners was still skeptical but the prosecution had the defense over a barrel with the message, it was only fair that they used it to help them.

Two hours later they were sitting in the same interrogation room back at Park Center where Hutch had been grilled for hours. A tape recorder with a copy of the tape inside it sat on the table. Hutch sat in a chair at the table, Starsky stood in the corner of the room so he had the best vantage point to watch Hutch. Dobey was behind the two way mirror along with Davis and Rhimes who, when they got wind of what was going on, insisted on being present. Frank Conners stood next to Hutch poised to depress the play button of the tape recorder.
The lawyer looked at Starsky who nodded; Conners pushed the button and the voice of the mysterious Dominic filled the room. Immediately Hutch’s head snapped up, his blues suddenly had life in them again and he sat up straighter in the chair.
“Hutch?” Starsky called from across the room.
Woodenly, Hutch turned his head toward his partner’s voice; he pushed out the chair and got up. He walked toward Starsky and stopped directly in front of him.
Starsky wasn’t sure what to expect, he was almost fearful of speaking again with Hutch so close to him. If someone had turned him into a killer with no remorse Hutch might do anything.
Conners rewound the tape and played it once again. As the voice on the tape spoke, Hutch went almost limp and Starsky had to catch him to keep Hutch from falling to the floor.
“Hutch.”
This time Hutch looked at Starsky, confusion filling his eyes. “H-how did I…” Looking over at the table where he had been sitting.
“Buddy I’m not sure what to tell you but I think we finally have that break that we were looking for.” Starsky helped Hutch back to his seat.
Conners stood watching the pair dumb founded. He wasn’t sure what he had just seen but he was more than willing to explore the possibilities of using it to their advantage. “We need to find us a good doctor that specializes in hypnosis or mind control, what ever the hell this is.”
“What about the trial?” Starsky said.
“I’m going to see if we can get continuance from the Judge,” Conners said. “We might need a few days to sort this out.”

“Forty-eight hours,” Judge Adams said looking at the councilor skeptically.
“But your Honor, I’m not sure we can find a doctor and have Detective Hutchinson evaluated in that short of time.” Conners said. “An innocent man can’t go to jail.”
“Save it Conners, the only thing you are interested in is not losing this case.” The Judge said, “At this point it looks like it will take a miracle to keep Hutchinson off death row.”
“That is what I’m hoping we have here, a miracle.” Conners pleaded, “Seventy-two hours, please.”
“Forty-eight,” Adams said as he went back to the reading he had been doing when Conners had entered his office.
Conners knew he had been dismissed and also knew it was fruitless to keep pushing the matter. Sighing, he slung his coat over his arm, picked up his brief case and left the Judge’s office.
“Well?” Starsky had been waiting in the hall.
Conners brushed past the detective, “Forty-eight hours.”
“What, forty-eight hours?” Starsky said following the lawyer down the hall. “Can we find a doctor that specializes in this kind of thing in that short of time? Let alone have Hutch looked at, tested, what ever the hell has to be done in forty-eight hours?”
“I hope so, our whole cases now hinges on that fact that some how, Hutchinson’s brain might have been tampered with.”
“Do you know anybody?” Starsky asked franticly. Conners shook his head. “So what do we do, look in the yellow pages under….exactly what?”
“There has got to be somebody that has some knowledge about mind control.” Conners said as they sped down the hallway to the entrance of the courthouse.
“Let me make a quick call I might know somebody that can help us.” Starsky said digging in his pocket for change.
Conners stopped and flipped Starsky a dime. “I’ll be at my office making my own calls, if you find somebody call me there.”
Starsky spun in a circle looking for a pay phone, spying one close to the front door he raced to it and plugged the dime in the slot. “Hutch and I need your help.” He said franticly when the party on the other end answered.

Hutch sat listlessly in this cell, his dinner was on the floor untouched. He wasn’t hungry all he wanted was to be left alone. Starsky seemed excited about some development in his case but the last thing he wanted was to get off on a technicality. He was guilty and he knew it even if Conners and Starsky refused to listen to him.
Finally, he lay down on the hard cot but didn’t close his eyes. Hutch didn’t want to sleep; sleep only brought the nightmares that he couldn’t live with. He racked his brain trying to figure out what would have possessed him to have killed those two men and why couldn’t he remember doing it? He had so many questions running around in his head and no answers. If he was innocent then Starsky would have proved it by now and he knew that his partner had come up empty.
Finally his eyes slid closed and he fell at first into a dreamless sleep but then the nightmares started, the blood, the knife flashing in the light as it was driven again and again into the body of Jackie Delocasa. Him picking up the body of Sal Brooks and hoisting it into a dumpster.
Hutch rolled back and forth on the bed moaning as the images flashed in his mind. Then a different dream, this one wasn’t violent, he woke up and there was a man standing next to him holding something, what was it, what was this man doing in his bedroom? Hutch’s eyes snapped open and he sat up looking around, at first he thought he was in his apartment in his own bed. The dream had been so vivid that he was sure he was home. Then reality set in and Hutch realized he was still in his jail cell on a lumpy mattress. Hutch lay back down, his head swimming as he wondered what this dream could have meant.

Starsky pushed open the door of the Pits, Huggy was waiting for him, he had a slip of paper with a name on it. “Now this isn’t some kind of voodoo doc is it Huggy? We need a real M.D. here.”
“Oh ye of little faith,” Huggy said thrusting the paper in Starsky’s hand. “This guy is the best. He has worked with soldiers that have come back from prison camps.”
Starsky’s brow furrowed, “And just how do you know him?” He unfolded the paper, the name Sam Smith was written on it. “Oh come on Hug, Smith?”
“Hey, a man has to have a drink once in a while.” Huggy said. “And I swear his name really is Smith.”
Ten minutes later Starsky was knocking of the front door of Sam Smith. He prayed that the man was for real, as they were running out of time. When the door opened a man in his seventy’s with white hair stood before him. Starsky could tell he had once been a strong, powerful man because even now the detective wasn’t sure he would want to mess with him.
“Doctor Smith?” Starsky asked.
“Detective Starsky, I have been expecting you,” Dr. Smith opened the door so that Starsky could enter. “You look dubious son, but I assure you I am a doctor and that I have helped many, many men who have been brain washed get their lives back.”
“I’m sorry sir,” Starsky said, “I don’t mean you be disrespectful but my partner’s life is on the line here and we only have forty-eight hours to prove that he didn’t do the crimes he is charged with.”
“It won’t take me long to assess if he has been brain washed, what will take some time will be deprogramming him.” Dr. Smith answered.
“Deprogrammed?” Starsky said more to himself that to the doctor, he suddenly felt as if he had been thrust into some kind of horror movie.
“Why don’t you take me to your friend.” The doctor suggested.

It was nearly two a.m. when Officer Joe Stamford gently shook Hutch awake. “Hey, Hutch, your lawyer and partner are here to see you.”
“Tell them to go away,” Hutch mumbled as he rolled up in the thin sheet covering his body. The dreams and nightmares had finally stopped and he was getting some much needed sleep.
“It sounds important.” Joe insisted. “You know if you don’t get up then Starsky is going to come down here and drag you out of bed.”
“Fine,” Hutch sighed as he got to his feet. He slipped his shoes on and ran his fingers through his hair. He allowed Joe to cuff his hands behind his back and lead him to where his partner was waiting.
“Hutch I think we finally have our break but you need to talk to this doctor,” Starsky said the moment he saw Hutch.
“You had Joe get me up for this?” Hutch looked at his partner in disgust. “Can’t you prove I’m nuts in the morning?”
It hurt Starsky’s heart to hear the defeat in his friend’s voice. “You don’t understand Hutch; we think that you might have been brain washed into doing the things you did.”
“Oh,” Hutch said, he had been hoping that his partner had found that he hadn’t committed the murders. “Brain washed? Who? How?”
“First we have to prove that you were brained washed then we answer the who and the how.” Conners spoke up.
“So you are on board with this?” Hutch asked rather surprised, Conners had been so set on the temporary insanity plea.
“Your partner here doesn’t give up so easily.” Conners looked at Starsky and winked at him. This was the side of the lawyer Starsky hadn’t seen as of yet. “Doctor Smith is waiting in one of the interrogation rooms. There will be others watching Hutchinson so be smart and don’t say anything that will incriminate your self alright?”
Hutch nodded as he followed Starsky and Conners, Joe accompanied them to the interrogation room then uncuffed Hutch, “I’ll be waiting out in the hall.”
A white haired man that Hutch didn’t know was already sitting in the room, he was in a chair several feet from a table and a second chair was there with a tape recorder sitting on the floor at the stranger’s feet. The man rose as they entered the room. “Mr. Conners if you don’t mind would you please wait in the other room?” He pointed to the two way mirror. The lawyer nodded and left, Starsky started to follow. “Detective Starsky, I would like you to remain, your partner will need a friendly face.” Then he held out his hand to Hutch, “Detective Hutchinson, I’m Doctor Sam Smith. You can all me Sam.”
Hutch took the handed offered him. “Please, call me Hutch.”
“Alright, Hutch, why don’t you have a seat at the table, lets see if you have been indeed been brain washed.”
Hutch looked at Starsky who nodded encouragement; Hutch crossed the room and sat down at the table as instructed.
Sam picked up the tape recorder he had previously listened to the message that had been left on the answering machine. It seemed to be a harmless, meaningless message but the doctor knew it was just the type of thing that would be done. “Now there are two possibilities here, the whole message or just one word in the message could be used to trigger and untrigger Hutch’s subconscious into doing what the person wanted to be done.” Sam explained. “First lets figure out which it is then we will figure out how.”
Sam began playing the tape, as with the other times Hutch snapped to attention when he heard the words, then as it was played a second time he went back to normal with no memory of what had happened to him.
​

                                                                                ~CHAPTER SEVEN~


After several different scenarios with the tape, Sam discovered that Dominic was the trigger word not the whole phrase. Hutch was exhausted by the time Sam Smith was finished with him. Starsky watched silently from the corner of the room, lending his support, just being there for his friend.
Sam looked at Starsky, “Now to figure out how this was done. Have you noticed anything different about Hutch in the last weeks before his arrest? Tell me anything no matter how trivial you might think it is.”
Starsky thought for a moment before he said, “He was tired, like he wasn’t sleeping well.” Suddenly he clapped his hand to his forehead. “I have two pieces of evidence that never made any sense. I found a pair ear phones in his bed room next to the bed, something Hutch assured me he never used. And Tim Grandy from the crime lab found traces of Temazepam, a type of sleeping pill in Hutch’s system. Hutch doesn’t take sleeping pills.”
Sam was nodding as Starsky was talking. “Who ever did this to Hutch is good. Hutch was most likely doped with sleeping pills then probably some type of recording was played over and over all night long. Only way we would know what it said exactly would be to find the recording. Possibly the recording started out playing on Hutch’s emotions, threatening people he loved and what would be done to them if he didn’t comply with the voices wishes. Then probably as time went on, details of what this person wanted done to the victims were ingrain in Hutch’s subconscious so, once he heard the trigger word he was off and running.”
“So I really did kill Delocasa and Brooks?” Hutch said dropping his head in his hands.
Starsky went to side, “It wasn’t your fault Hutch, you didn’t know what you were doing.”
There was a knock on the interrogation room door, it was Conners. “We don’t have much time to come up with a new defense and we are going to need stronger evidence that what we have.”
“I can go back to Hutch’s apartment again now that we know what we are looking for but finding much of anything will probably be impossible. It was pretty much ransacked when it was searched; I doubt any prints would have survived.”
Rhimes appeared in the door way behind Conners, Davis was with him. “We’ll help,” Rhimes offered.
“Thank you,” Starsky said, “We have to figure out who and why.” Then he turned to Hutch and put his hand on Hutch’s shoulder, “I’ll be back.”

As they were climbing the steps to Hutch’s apartment, Rhimes said, “I’m sorry that I was so overboard with this case, so much so, that I wasn’t willing to listen to you.”
Starsky turned around to look at the man. “Just help me now.”
When they got to the top of the stairs the first thing Starsky noticed was that the yellow tape was gone. Why wouldn’t it be, the trial had already started and the damming evidence collected. He started to reach above the door to retrieve the key when it hit him. Starsky snatched his hand back as if he had been burned.
“What’s wrong?” Davis asked.
“Who ever this was had to be getting into Hutch’s apartment, it’s obvious that he wasn’t letting them in. They must have some how known about the key over the door frame. That was how they were getting in.” Starsky answered. “We need this door frame dusted it’s probably the only place that prints haven’t been destroyed.
The three detectives waited for the crime lab to dust for prints, fearing that if they took the key to get into Hutch’s apartment it might destroy any prints. After the prints were lifted, Starsky got the key and let himself and the two detectives into the apartment.
At first they stood in the middle of the living room looking at the mess, “I should get this cleaned up,” Starsky said. “Hutch won’t need to come home to this.”
“Where do we start?” Rhimes asked. “And what are we looking for?”
Starsky pondered the question for a few moments. “I’m not really sure. Hutch had to be drugged some how, he would never take sleeping pills willingly. So it was probably put in something that he either ate or drank.”
“We’ll start in the bed room,” Rhimes said pulling on his partner’s sleeve.
“I guess I’ll take the kitchen.” Starsky said as he headed in that direction. It was the only room which hadn’t been turned up side down. Only a few drawers were pulled out and the trash had been dumped on the floor. Starsky righted the trash can and picked up its contents. Then he shut all the drawers, next he opened the refrigerator and stood studying the items inside. There was some of Hutch’s gray goop, which Starsky was sure had gone bad by now as well as assorted food items. He made a mental note to clean the spoiled things out and replace them with new ones before Hutch got home…if he got home. Surely with this new evidence the Judge would have to release Hutch.
In Hutch’s bed room Rhimes and Davis were righting furniture and putting drawers that had been dumped back in their places. Rhimes leaned the bed side table away from the wall. He had remembered that Starsky had said that he had found the ear phones in that area. Behind the table he found an empty water glass, if it had anything in it, the liquid was long dried up. He pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and gingerly picked up the glass.
Davis had migrated to the bathroom; he looked in the medicine cabinet to see if Hutch had any kind of medication that could have been tampered with. He didn’t find so much as a bottle of aspirin but there was a bottle of mouthwash sitting on the side of the sink. Davis held it up to the light to see if it was cloudy or looked suspicious. Nothing caught his attention but he took the bottle anyway just to have it tested.
“Find anything?” Rhimes asked from the kitchen doorway. He held up the glass he had found, “This was behind the bed side table, thought it might be a good idea to have it tested.
“Hutch’s breakfast drink is in the fridge but he only drinks that in the morning so I don’t thing that would be it. There is a jug of water too.” Starsky said looking at the glass the other detective held.
“Take them both, you never know.” Rhimes said. “Let’s get out of here, we can came back if we need too.”
“Hey, guys,” Starsky said as they were leaving Hutch’s apartment, “Thanks, both Hutch and I really appreciate this.”

Judge Adams was just finishing up his dinner at his desk when there was a light tap on the door. “Come in,” he said as he was wiping the remains of his egg salad from his face. When the door opened the Judge wasn’t pleased to see Frank Conners standing there. “What is it Conners?”
“Judge there has been some major developments.” Conners said as he came into the office followed by Sam. “Sir this is Dr. Sam Smith, he will be our expert witness to the fact that Ken Hutchinson has been brain washed which caused him to kill Delocasa and Brooks.”
The Judge looked at the two men with out blinking. “So what are you doing here?”
“We need more time.”
The Judge put his hands on the edge of his desk and pushed himself to his feet. “I told you forty-eight hours. Have you found the person that brain washed Hutchinson?”
“No sir.”
“Then you have no proof that he has indeed been brain washed.” The Judge said as he put on his robes.
“I have Dr. Smith here.” Conners said. He knew he was losing the conversation.
“Mr. Conners, I don’t think I have to tell you that Hutchinson could be faking, he wouldn’t be the first nor the last.” Judge Adams said as he walked toward the door.
“That is why we need more time. Several detectives have been going over Hutchinson’s apartment, we need time to analysis what has been found.”
The Judge sighed, “You have your client in my court room bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“But your Honor…”
“Mr. Conners, I’m not trying to railroad your client into jail but I also have a responsibility to the public. This is a highly public case; we have all kinds of interest groups watching to see what is going to happen. No matter who wins or loses somebody isn’t going to be happy and there will be backlash from this case. I just want to make sure every ‘I’ is dotted. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“If you come up with something then I suggest you present it in court.” The Judge opened the door, “Good Evening.”
“Damn,” Conners said as he and Dr. Smith left the office. “I was hoping for at least one more day.”

Hutch lay staring at the ceiling of his cell, he couldn’t sleep, his mind was whirling in different directions. How could somebody come into his apartment over a long period of time without him knowing it? How did they drug him, brain wash him. Just how weak was he? He wanted the Judge to put him in jail because that was the only way he could live with him self. He wondered what Starsky was doing, most likely trying to prove that he didn’t act on his own accord. He hadn’t seen his partner since he had talked to the doctor.
Hutch closed his eyes, he needed some sleep, and at this point he would even take the nightmares. As Hutch lay there trying to sleep he suddenly remembered the dream he had the night before of the man standing over his bed side. He threw back the sheet and got out of bed, the lights were low so he knew it had to be late. “Hey!” Hutch yelled as he pressed his face to the bars.

Starsky hovered near Tim Grandy as he processed the finger prints. There had been three different prints two were ruled out immediately as they had been his and Hutch’s but the third print was an unknown.
A uniformed officer knocked on the open lab door; both Starsky and Tim looked up. “Sorry to bother you, but Detective Starsky, Detective Hutchinson is asking for you.”
“Keep looking Tim,” Starsky said as he followed the officer out the door.
When Starsky reached the holding cells he found Hutch pacing the cell. “Are you alright?”
Hutch went to the bars and griped them in each hand, “Starsky, I remember something or I think I do, I’m not sure if it’s real or just a dream.”
“What is it?” Starsky put his hands over his partner’s clinched fists.
“I had a dream there was a man standing next to my bed in the apartment, he was holding something but I don’t know what it was.” Hutch released the bars. “It’s probably just a stupid dream; I have been having so many nightmares who knows what it means.” He walked over and dropped down on the cot.
Starsky wanted nothing more than to comfort his friend. “Hutch, we found prints over your door frame. Tim is working on them. The lab is also analyzing a glass, mouthwash, your gray glop and a jug of water looking for the sleeping medication. If that doesn’t get it then I’ll go back, and I’ll keep going back until we have all the answers.”
“What kind of answers do the families of those two men get?” Hutch asked, he had such a mixture of emotions he didn’t know what to feel. He wanted an answer for what he did but then again he didn’t want to get off.
“All I want is the truth, we need to know what happened Hutch,” Starsky said. “There is no way I’m going to believe that you killed those men in your right mind, something or someone forced you to do it.”
“Still doesn’t change the fact that they are dead.”


                                                                                                 ~CHAPTER EIGHT~

​​
There was an air of excitement when Starsky arrived back in the lab. “What’s going on?” He asked the closest lab tech.
“Traces of Temazepam were found in the glass and the water jug.”
He had hoped that Tim had a name to go with the finger prints but this was almost as good. At least now they had proof that Hutch had been drugged. Moments later Starsky was rewarded again with a whoop of joy from Tim.
“I got you a name!” Tim cried as he pointed to his computer screen. The name Curtis Mayfair stood out on the screen; there was a photo next to it of a boy that looked about sixteen.”
Starsky looked at the computer doubtfully, “He’s kind of young to pull of something like this don’t you think?”
“This is an old photo taken when he was fifteen.” Tim explained, “He was arrested for stealing a car. His daddy’s car and daddy decided to make a point by having junior arrested. Mayfair is now twenty-two and in pre med at UCLA.”
“That last name sounds familiar.” Starsky said trying to place where he had heard the name before. “But why would this kid do something like this.”
“Hell he’s in college, maybe he was just the pizza delivery boy.” Tim said not wanting to cast shadow on their evidence but he had to be realistic.
“Number one, why would a pizza boy be feeling above the door frame and number two, Hutch doesn’t order pizza, well not unless I’m there.” Starsky said.
“Where can I find this guy?” Starsky asked.
Tim pulled a piece of paper from the printer and handed it to Starsky, “His family lives in Malibu on the Pacific Coast Highway.”
“Family has money then,” Starsky said taking the paper. “Might be easier if I track sonny down at school, I don’t want him to lawyer up before I can talk to him.”
“That won’t be until tomorrow morning.” Tim said. “Doesn’t Hutch have to be in court?”
“It will be tight but hopefully I can get what I need from the kid and get to court before Hutch gets hung out to dry.” Starsky started out of the room. “Can you get all this information to Conners?”
“You bet, don’t worry about it.”
“And if you get a chance to talk to Hutch, tell him I’ll be there.” Starsky was out the door. He wanted to find out as much about the kid as he possibly could before confronting him.

It was early the next morning as Starsky was lead through the Louise M. Darling Biomedical Library by a thin middle aged woman. She pointed to a young man that was leaning against the end of one of the book cases reading a thick book. She walked away quietly leaving Starsky to study Curtis Mayfair from a distance. He was striking; looking as if he could have been a model posing for GQ, as he causally leaned on the case. Curtis absently reached up and pushed a blondish wisp of bangs from his forehead as he read. At six-two he was several inches tall than Starsky, he was impeccably dressed, his dark slacks pressed to perfection. He had on a tan sweater over a dark blue button down shirt; there was no doubt that Curtis looked collegiate and rich.
Starsky approached the young man who didn’t even look up even as Starsky came to stand next to him. Finally, Starsky said in a whisper, “Are you Curtis Mayfair?”
He looked up from his reading to stare at the detective for a few moments, then a smile spread across his face. “Yes, I am.”
“I’m Detective Starsky of the Bay City Police Department. Can I speak to you a moment?”
Mayfair’s demeanor didn’t change as he closed the book he was reading and placed it on a near by table. He didn’t ask what Starsky wanted to talk to him about he just walked toward the exit with Starsky following.
It was hard for Starsky to see that this kid had anything to do with brain washing Hutch. What motive could he possibly have had? He came across as a hard working student hoping someday to become a doctor.
Once they were on the steps of the library, Curtis turned to the detective. “So what is this about Officer?”
“Do you deliver pizza?” Starsky thought he would ease into the conversation even though he knew he didn’t really have the time. He just didn’t want to spook the kid; he didn’t think he would ever catch him if Mayfair took off.
Curtis snorted, “Do I look like I have to deliver pizzas?” Starsky didn’t look amused. “No sir, I do not deliver pizzas nor have I ever.”
“Then can you explain what your finger prints are doing over the doorway of my partner, Ken Hutchinson?”
Curtis froze for a moment, “I-I have no idea.” His nonchalant manner cracked ever so slightly and it wasn’t missed by Starsky. He quickly regained his air of indifference and asked. “What is this about? I don’t have time for this guessing game; I’m going to be late for class.”
“Mr. Mayfair, I happened to know you don’t have class until two this afternoon.” Starsky said taking Curtis’s arm, “Why don’t we go for a little stroll?”
“Did I do something?”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
“I stole my dad’s car when I was fifteen, I’m sure this isn’t about that.” Mayfair said as he tried to pull his arm out of Starsky’s grip. “I haven’t been in any trouble since then.”
He was starting to crack even more, Starsky could sense that Mayfair’s confidence was waning and he just had to keep after the kid. “I’m sure that you can’t prescribe drugs yet, am I right.”
“No, of course not, I’m only a student.” Curtis was beginning to getting angry now. He had a feeling he knew what the cop was there about. He had somehow been found out, not that he much cared. “Why?”
“Well you see my partner is having a hard time sleeping and he needs some sleeping pills.” Starsky said slyly, “You don’t know how I can get some do you?”
Curtis stopped walking, “Detective…Starsky was it?” Starsky nodded. “Why don’t we stop playing games? My dorm room isn’t far.”
“You stay here? Malibu isn’t that far away.” Starsky mused.
Shrugging Curtis said, “I go home on the weekends, if I’m not busy. You know a lot about me, and then you know nothing.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Starsky looked at his watch. Time was slipping away. He needed something on this kid other than riddles in order to bring him in. One finger print on a door frame was not going to do it.
“Oh, you will Detective, you will.”

Hutch looked around the court room, Starsky was no where to be seen. Sal Brooks’ widow was sitting on the other side of the court room, she was dressed in black and had a wad of tissue in her hands; there was a younger woman next to her. She didn’t look left or right, just straight ahead. She was elegant in the way she sat there; Hutch guessed her age to be in her early fifty’s, although she didn’t really look that old. Jackie Delocasa had no family in the court room as far as Hutch could tell. Jackie was the loner type who surrounded himself with people that were only there to get what they could from him and then move on. Jackie had liked it that way.
“Where is Starsky?” Hutch asked leaning close to Frank Conner’s ear. He wasn’t sure he could get through the day with out his partner’s support even if it was just knowing that Starsky was sitting behind him.
“I don’t know, but Tim Grandy from crime lab gave me some information and without a suspect I don’t think it’s going to fly.” Conners whispered back.
“What kind of information?” Hutch asked.
“Sleeping medication was found in a water jug in your refrigerator and traces in a glass next to your bed. He also nailed down that print on your door frame.”
“Still pretty circumstantial, I could have put the sleeping pills in my own water to make it look like somebody did it.” Hutch said playing lawyer. “And as far as the print, it could be somebody delivering something to my apartment.”
“Not likely, it belongs to a twenty-two year old pre med student at UCLA and not a poor one either. His family lives in Malibu.”
Hutch’s head jerked up, “What his is name?”
“Curtis Mayfair.”
“Christ, Mayfair? One of the girls that was rescued when we busted Delocasa’s operation was named was Mayfair.” Too damn bad Jackie hadn’t been there or he wouldn’t be sitting where he was. It would have been an open and shut case for Delocasa.
“Are you sure Ken?”
“I was there; we took four girls and three boys out of a warehouse where kiddy porn movies were being made. I should know.”
“Would Starsky know the name?” Conners asked wondering how he could find Starsky and get a message to him.
“I don’t think so, no reason for him to know. Starsky didn’t work this case with me. Since the girls were minors their names were never published.” Hutch said.
“I am betting the reason that Starsky isn’t here is that he has gone to talk to this Mayfair boy.”
“You don’t think he is dangerous do you?” Hutch asked, instantly worried about his partner.
“Since it looks like he might have gotten you to do his dirty work for him, I would say no.” Conners said hoping that he was right. Starsky was walking into something he had no idea about.


                                                                                                    ~CHAPTER NINE~
​

“Nice,” Starsky commented as they entered Curtis Mayfair’s dorm room.
“It’s some place to study that’s quiet.” Curtis said.
The first thing that caught Starsky’s attention was a tape recorder and several cassette tapes on the desk. Then his gaze went to the book shelf, Battle for the Mind: A Physiology of Conversion and Brainwashing and The Manipulated Mind: Brainwashing, Conditioning and Indoctrination were just a couple of titles on the spines of many books on brain washing. Starsky looked at Curtis who was watching the detective.
Curtis picked up a photo of a girl and handed it to the detective. “Very pretty.” Starsky said, “Is she your sister?” She looked a little young to be his girlfriend.
He nodded and finally the fake façade came tumbling down, Curtis’s eyes filled with tears and they spilled on to his cheeks. “She is thirteen, her name is Sara.”
Starsky was confused by the boy’s tears. He hadn’t said she was thirteen but is, which meant she was alive. “Is she alright?” Starsky asked thinking that perhaps she was sick.
“No and she probably never will be again, Sara is in a psychiatric hospital in San Leandro.” Curtis sat down on his bed still clutching the photo he had taken back from the detective.
“I’m sorry; I don’t understand what this has to do with my partner.” Starsky said looking from Curtis to the books and tape recorder. There was no doubt in his mind that this young man, either on his own or with somebody else brain washed Hutch.
Before Curtis could explain there was a knock on the door. Starsky opened the door since Curtis made no move to get off the bed. Two uniformed officers stood in the hall. “Is everything alright Detective Starsky?” Officer Sanders asked as he handed Starsky a search warrant.
“Yes, I think you need to read this young man his rights and cuff him.” Starsky said as he took the warrant. He looked at Sanders, the question of where the warrant had come from written on his face.
“Rhimes…,” Sanders grinned at Starsky.
“I know my rights and I wave them.” He looked up at Starsky. “I don’t care what happens to me, my whole family is destroyed anyway.”

As the Judge entered the court room they were all ordered to stand. Hutch kept scanning the crowd for his partner; he finally spotted Captain Dobey in the back of the room which was filled to capacity with only standing room left. He noticed a sketch artist drawing his picture, Hutch was dimly aware that he was front page news nearly everyday. He was glad that the Judge had not allowed cameras in the court room. It was enough of a circus as it was with out the trial being played out blow by blow on TV, he was sure the trial dominated the news anyway. The whole town, possibly the country was holding their collective breath to see what was going to happen to the cop.
The prosecution and defense were both called up to speak with the Judge before they got started. The Judge put his hand over the microphone, “I take it that you are aware of the new evidence that has come to light?” Judge Adams asked Riseling.
“Yes sir but it doesn’t seem like much.” Riseling responded.
“We have finger prints of a young man that we suspect might have had a hand in the brain washing. We also found traces of a sleeping pill in the Detective’s drinking water.” Conners said.
“Mr. Conners, I did not call the both of you up here to debate this trail, I was merely wanting to find out if the prosecution was aware of the new evidence and if you had anything more?”
“No Sir, but…”
Judge Adams interrupted the lawyer. “Have a seat gentlemen.”
Hutch could tell that Conners was frustrated as he came back to the table, he was actually starting to like the man and was learning to read him. As Conners sat he whispered to Hutch, “I hope your partner has found something or we are going to get hung out to dry.”
The Judge cleared his throat and addressed the jury, “I want to remind the members of the jury that they are to disregard the tape recording that was played two days ago. I realize that it was probably the last thing on your minds, but that tape has no bearing for either side without further evidence.”
Frank Conners suppressed the urge to stand up and say that they did have further evidence but without a suspect he didn’t have a leg to stand on. The fingerprint was not going to get it. Why did the Judge have to bring up the tape again, it should have been used for the defense but the prosecution was reaping the benefits of it.

Sara Mayfair fresh from a fight with her parents had been walking along the beach not far from their home in Malibu when an older gentlemen had approached her. She hadn’t been frightened as he looked like a nice man and was well dressed. Even when he had stopped to speak to her she had no idea what the man had in store for her.
She wiped the tears she had been shedding when she realized the man was going to speak to her. She didn’t to want to have to answer any questions as to why she was crying. Sara had been fighting with her parents all morning because she had wanted to go to a party but they said she was too young. She was thirteen, a teenager even if it had only been for a few weeks she was still a teenager and she was tired of being babied.
“Hello,” The man greeted her.
“Hi,” Sara responded, she kept walking but she could feel the man’s eyes on her back.
“Miss?”
Sara stopped and looked back. “Can I help you?”
He smiled at her, “I know this sounds like a come on but have you ever acted?”
“You are right it sounds like a come on.” Sara said but she didn’t move on. They had a few famous friends so she wasn’t totally unfamiliar with the world of movies but she had never been in one. Her parents would probably never allow it.
“My colleagues and I are casting a movie to do with young people. We don’t want seasoned actors we want this movie to be real.” He smiled at her again he wasn’t totally lying to her, he had been sent out to find young girls and boys for their movies. But it was never going to be anything that anyone would see in a theater. “You would be perfect, how old are you?”
At first Sara was going to lie and say she was older but she knew they would only find out when it was time to sign contacts. “Thirteen.”
“Ahh, perfect.” The man said. “Can you come with me now?”
Sara’s brow furrowed for a moment, she knew she shouldn’t go with this strange man and if she hadn’t been so angry at her parents she probably wouldn’t have. “Will you have me back by dinner?”
“You bet ya.”
“Wellll,” Sara glanced over her shoulder, she could see their house; it would only take a moment to run home and ask permission. But then again her parents would say no, maybe if she did this and they saw how good she was they would let her continue. “Okay as long as I’m back by dinner.”
That was the last time anybody saw Sara Mayfair until Hutch, along with several other law enforcement agencies burst in to a warehouse six months later to find under age children engaged in sex acts with each other and adults while being filmed.

Starsky followed the squad car with Curtis in the back to the station. On the way he called Rhimes and Davis so they would be ready to talk to the young man when they arrived. He looked over in the front seat where the tape recorder, tapes and books lay. They hadn’t gotten a confession out of him yet so he wasn’t able to take the items to Conners in court.
They pulled in front of the station and Starsky escorted Curtis Mayfair into the building. Rhimes was waiting to take possession of the suspect. “It’s in your hands now,” Starsky said as he gave Mayfair over to Rhimes along with the items that were taken from the kid’s dorm room. “And Rhimes thanks for the warrant.”
Rhimes nodded, “No problem. Tim called and told Davis and I what was going on and I thought you might need it.”
Starsky turned to go. “Hey where are you going?” Rhimes called after the detective.
Starsky stopped in his tracks and spun around. “I need to be with Hutch.”
“Davis and I thought you might like to be part of the interrogation.” Rhimes said grinning slightly at Starsky.
Starsky was torn between going to Hutch and talking to Mayfair, finally he decided he would be more help if he stayed. He already had a relationship of sorts started with the suspect. “I’m coming.” Starsky stopped at the front desk. “Can you get a message to Captain Dobey?” He asked the Sergeant. It was the same Sergeant that he had the run in with when Hutch had been brought in. “He’s in court at Hutch’s trial.”
Sighing, Sergeant Thomas grabbed a piece of paper, “Shoot.”
“We have a suspect in custody. As soon as I have something, I will be there.” Starsky rattled off what he wanted the Sergeant to write down.
“Anything else Detective Starsky?”
“Yeah,” Starsky said, “Thanks.” Starsky dashed for the elevator.
When Starsky entered the interrogation room, Curtis sat slumped in the same chair that Hutch had sat in when he was questioned. Rhimes and Davis had been waiting for the detective. The books were stacked on the table along with the tape recorder. Rhimes motioned for Starsky to start, so he walked to where Curtis was sitting. “You have been read your rights.”
“Yes.”
“And you waved those rights.”
“Yes, I did,” the confidant young man that Starsky had met earlier in the day was gone.
“Ok Curtis I’m going to cut to the chase since I’m running out of time.” Starsky said as he put both of his hands on the table and leaned toward the boy. “Did you break into Detective Kenneth Hutchinson’s apartment, drug him, and brain wash him into killing Jackie Delocasa and Sal Brooks?”
Curtis nodded his head but didn’t speak.
“You are going to have to answer that question out loud son.” Rhimes said. The woman sitting in the corner recording the interrogation nodded in agreement.
“Yes,” Curtis said so softly that they could barely hear him.
“Speak up please,” Rhimes said.
“YES, YES!” Curtis yelled as tears flowed down his face. “And I would do it again, they deserved to die and I wanted that cop’s live ruined like he ruined ours. Your partner messed up that trial; I wanted revenge for my sister.” He was sobbing uncontrollably.
Starsky looked at Rhimes and Davis, they all had confused looks on their faces. “Curtis what are you talking about?”
“Sara was one of the girls found when that porn ring was raided.”
“Holy shit!” Starsky exclaimed, suddenly the puzzle pieces fell into place. “I have got to get to court.”
“You’ll need a confession on paper to show the Judge.” Davis said.
“What the hell is wrong with you,” Starsky yelled at Curtis who cringed away from him. “You realize that you have probably ruined my partner’s life? He didn’t do anything to you or your family, he was doing his job.”
“B-but I confessed that I did it,” Curtis stammered.
“You didn’t kill those two men, you didn’t hack them up!” Starsky ranted. “Where are those photos Davis, show him the photos of those two men that were hacked up beyond recognition.”
Rhimes pushed Starsky away from Mayfair. “Calm down. He will get his due but you have to got stop that trial.”
Starsky nodded, spent from the emotion that had surged through his body. “Why don’t you head on over there,” Davis suggested. “I’ll bring the Mayfair confession.”
“Alright,” Starsky finally said, “Don’t be long.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Davis promised.


                                                                                             ~CHAPTER TEN~


A uniformed officer slipped into the court room, after finding Dobey sitting in the back, he put his hand on his shoulder and handed him a note. The moment that the captain read the note he got up and made his way toward the front of the room. He sat down directly behind Conners and tapped him on the shoulder.
Conners turned around to see a note being thrust toward him. He nodded his thanks, took the note, opening it immediately. He tilted his head back with relief when he saw what was written there. Then he nudged Hutch and slid the opened note across the table to him.
Hutch looked down at the words written there, Starsky had done it. He wouldn’t be going to prison at least not one with bars. Hutch felt a rush of relief and of sadness; this would not comfort the grieving families.
The trial continued, without the proof, there was nothing that Conners could do but wait until somebody showed up with the evidence and a signed confession. He was worried. What if this kid didn’t give it up? What if he decided he wanted to wait for a lawyer? The trial could go on for days or even end before they had anything concrete to give the Judge.
Riseling had just sat down; he had been questioning a witness that had said she saw the Detective, covered with blood, getting in his car out side of Delocasa’s. It was now Conners’ turn to cross examine the woman on the stand. She was understandably nervous, as she sat there; she kept glancing in Hutch’s direction.
Conners got to his feet but instead of approaching the witness he stood in front of the Judge. “Your Honor I would like to ask for a recess.”
Judge Adams’ lips became tight and thin, anger apparent on his face. “Mr. Conners, this court is tired of your delays. You asked for forty-eight hours which you were granted. Now it’s time to get on with this trial. If you have something other than words to prove that your client is innocent, produce them, if not then let’s get on with this trial. I will not tolerate any more stalling.”
“Your Honor I was just given a note that…”
“Will this note clear your client?”
Conners knew that the note alone would do nothing but anger the already upset Judge. “No sir but…”
“But nothing, now get on with it.” The Judge said, “Do you have any questions for this witness?”
“No sir.”
“Fine,” Adams said, he looked at the trembling woman on the stand, “You may step down.”
Conners went back to his seat. “Where the hell is that partner of yours?”
“He’ll be here.” Hutch said, hoping that Starsky made it in time. If he was found guilty there would probably have to be a second trial, after all he wasn’t exactly innocent, he did kill two men.

Starsky pushed his way through the mob on the court house steps. Reporters were standing in front of their camera men rambling on and on about the trial, rehashing what had already been said for the lack of any new information.
“That is his partner!”
Starsky heard the shout but ignored it. A crush of reporters started to surround him. He put his head down and forged his way through leaving them all shouting his name, and pleading with him for an interview. Once inside the building Starsky stopped a moment to catch his breath then headed to the courtroom.
When Starsky banged open the double doors to Judge Adams’ courtroom, the Judge was not amused. He glared at the detective and watched as he took his seat behind Hutch. Starsky leaned over the railing and whispered, “We have a confession, you have got to stop the trial.”
Conners held out his hand, “Where is it?” He was not about to reap the wrath of the Judge on his head if he tried to stall again.
“It’s coming.”
“COMING?” Conners was frustrated. In the beginning Conners had his doubts about Hutchinson and had only taken the case because a friend called in a favor, but as time had gone on he started believing in Hutch and didn’t want to see him go to jail, job or no job. “We are running out of time.”
“It will be here, along with more evidence.” Starsky assured both the lawyer and his partner.
“Mr. Conners, are you quite finished?”
Conners looked around to see the Judge watching them. “Yes sir. Sorry your Honor.”
“Are you ready to call your witness?”
“Yes, Sir,” Conners said looking at Hutch. Their only real witness was Sam. “I would like to call Dr. Sam Smith.”
“What are you doing?” Starsky hissed at Conners.
Conners glanced at Starsky but didn’t answer. Sam walked to the front of the court room and climbed onto the witness stand. Just as he was about to be sworn in the courtroom doors banged open again. Davis, flanked by Rhimes, walked down the center of the room, Rhimes carried the tape recorder, tapes and the books.
“What is the meaning of this?” Judge Adams nearly roared.
Conners jumped to his feet and met the two detectives as they came down the aisle. “Please tell me you have something.”
Davis thrust the signed confession of Mayfair into his hand. “Your confession.”
“Thank you.” Conners said accepting the paper. He turned to the Judge, “Your Honor, I have in my hand a signed confession from Curtis Mayfair saying that he broke into Detective Hutchinson’s apartment, drugged him and then brain washed him into killing Jackie Delocasa and Sal Brooks.” There was a collective gasped from the crowd and several reporters jumped from there seats and dash out into the hall.
“Approach the bench Mr. Conners, Mr. Riseling.” Judge Adams’ barked at the two men.
Conners also took the recorder, tapes and books from Rhimes, both detectives sat down next to Starsky. Conners handed the signed confession to the Judge. “This is a tape recorder and tapes taken from Mayfair’s dorm room as well as several books on brainwashing.”
Adams’ studied the paper containing the confession for a few moments and glanced at the items Conners’ held. He then looked over at Riseling, “I’m going to allow this.”
Riseling was blind sided by the new evidence, all along he had thought that the brain washing bit was just a ruse to delay the trial. “The prosecution needs a continuance.” Riseling requested.
Judge Adams leaned toward Riseling. “I have in my hand a signed confession; I don’t think you can argue with that.”
“But, your Honor,” Riseling sputtered.
“Step back,” the Judge ordered the two lawyers, once the two men were back in their positions the Judge announced, “I’m calling a recess until nine a.m. tomorrow morning.” He pounded the gavel, gathered his robes and got up and left the room leaving everyone stunned.
Conners started collecting his notes and stuffed them in his briefcase. “I need to review the evidence so I know what I’m talking about in the morning. Any chance of you getting more information out of Curtis Mayfair?”
Starsky looked at Rhimes and Davis, “We will get you what ever you need.” Then, Starsky turned to Hutch, “It’s almost over buddy.”
Hutch nodded, he didn’t speak but he thought, Maybe for you. He was going to have to live with what he had done for the rest of his life, confession or not.

By the time the three detectives got back to the department, Daniel Mayfair and his high powered attorney were waiting for them. “I’m looking for the officer that arrested my son.” Daniel Mayfair asked.
“That would be me,” Starsky said. “And you are?”
“Daniel Mayfair, Curtis’ father.”
“Mr. Mayfair,” Starsky addressed him. “I am Detective Starsky.”
“I want to see my son.” The man demanded.
“I’m sorry but your son is in interrogation. You may see him after he has been booked.” Starsky said as he brushed past the father.
“You listen here!” Daniel yelled. “I have my lawyer here and I demand that we speak to my son.”
“Your son has waved his rights and already signed a confession.” Starsky turned to glare at the man. “Now, I need to go and talk to him so that I can get my partner, whom he brainwashed, out of jail.”
“I’m Mr. Cavanaugh,” the second man stepped forward. “I insist that Mr. Mayfair be allowed to see his son.”
“As I’m sure you just heard me tell Mr. Mayfair that is impossible at this time.”
“You coerced my son into a confess.” Mr. Mayfair exploded, advancing on Starsky. Rhimes and Davis stepped up making their presence known. “All you want is your partner out of jail. I’m not an idiot, I follow the news.”
“I guarantee you Mayfair; I did NOT coerce your son. I simply asked him and he admitted that he had done the things I asked.” Starsky answered standing his ground. “You and your lawyer are more than welcome to listen to the confession on tape.”
Mr. Mayfair started to speak again but his lawyer put his hand on his shoulder. “Thank you Detective, if we can have a room to listen to the tape?”
“I’ll fix you up,” Davis offered.
“Could I ask you to hold off on any more questioning of Curtis until we have had a chance to listen to the tape?” Cavanaugh asked.
“You have ten minutes,” Starsky said. “We have to be in court in the morning.”
“Thank you.”

Hutch was back in his orange jumpsuit and in his cell before dinnertime, something he still had little interest in. He was losing weight at a steady rate. He wondered what court would be like the next day, if he would finally be released from jail.
“Can I get you anything special Hutch?” It was Joe he had been standing watching Hutch through the bars.
“Thanks, Joe, but I’m not really hungry.”
“Come on, Hutch, you are going to blow away if you don’t eat something soon.” Joe said, concern creeping into his voice. “I’ll get you anything you want. I’m getting ready to head for my dinner break.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” Hutch insisted, his face turned ashen suddenly and as Joe watched, Hutch collapsed to the cell floor catching his forehead on the edge of the metal cot.
“Hutch!” Joe shouted, he knew it was against protocol but he unlocked the cell door and rushed to his side.
Blood was profusely flowing from a gash just above Hutch’s left eye. He was unconscious as he lay on the cold cell floor. Joe dropped to the floor and put his hand over the gash as he began calling for help.
Another officer heard Joe and rushed to see what had happened. “Holy crap,” He exclaimed upon seeing Joe and Hutch, then turned and rushed out to get help.
Ten minutes passed before two ambulance attendants pulling a gurney appeared out side the cell. Hutch was floating in and out of consciousness by this time, when he was lifted up on to the gurney he focused his eyes on Joe for a moment, “Starsky,” Hutch managed to whisper.
Joe nodded, then he cuffed Hutch’s wrist to the gurney, “I’m really sorry about this Hutch.” He apologized, but Hutch had drifted back into unconsciousness again. Joe handed the attendant the keys to the cuffs, “There will be an officer going with you, give him these keys will you?”
“Sure thing,” the attendant said as they pushed Hutch down the hall.

Starsky was standing out side a second interrogation room where Cavanaugh and Curtis’ father were listening to the young man’s taped confession. When Joe caught sight of the detective he yelled to him running to where he was standing.
“What happened?” Starsky asked his face and voice filling with alarm. Joe’s uniform was covered with blood.
“It’s, Hutch,” Joe said as the tried to catch his breath.
“Is he alright?” Starsky grabbed Joe, “Is he alright?”
“I think he will be, Starsky,” Joe explained, “He passed out in his cell and hit his head. I don’t think it’s serious but he has been taken to the hospital.”
“Thanks,” Starsky said. “Hey Joe, can you let Dobey know?”
“Sure thing.”

~CHAPTER ELEVEN~
​
Starsky stopped briefly at the front desk to find out where Hutch had been taken, then he dashed, hell bent, down the hall searching for the correct room number. He should have known it would have been obvious by the uniformed officer guarding the door.
“Officer Dylan,” Starsky addressed the officer as he pushed open the door. A nurse was adjusting IV tubing that was pumping something in to Hutch’s arm, his head wrapped with a white bandage.
A doctor was in the room also, he closed the file he had been writing on and turned to look at Starsky. “Are you a relative?”
“I’m his partner,” Starsky answered, then asked, “How is he Doc?”
“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Detective Hutchinson needed five stitches to close up that head wound and we are giving him fluids. He was badly dehydrated and boarding on malnutrition.”
Starsky looked at the doctor shocked, he hadn’t realized that Hutch hadn’t been eating or drinking in jail. “When can he get out of here?”
“As I understand it, he is supposed to be in court in the morning so either late tonight or early tomorrow morning, which is ever the most convenient.”
“But he’s going to be okay?” Starsky asked, needing to be reassured.
The doctor patted the detective on the back. “He will be fine, but he does need to eat.”
“I’ll see to that,” Starsky said as the doctor disappeared out the door. Starsky turned his worried look on his partner.
The nurse smiled at Starsky, “He’s going to be fine, really. Let me know when he wakes up and I’ll bring him a tray.”
“Thank you,” Starsky returned the smile. As soon as he was alone in the room with Hutch he sat down and looked at his partner. “What the hell are you trying to do Hutch?” He murmured.
Hutch’s eyes fluttered, then opened, it took him a moment to focus on where he was. He had awoken in the emergency room while they were stitching up his forehead earlier but then he guessed he must have drifted off again. The bed he was in felt good compared to the cot he had slept on for nearly four weeks.
He looked over and saw Starsky sitting there watching him. “Hey,” he said weakly.
“Ahhh Hutch,” Starsky said softly, his heart ached for his partner.
Hutch started to put his hand over Starsky’s when he realized he was cuffed to the bed. The look of defeat that Starsky had gotten so use to seeing on his partners face was there again.
Starsky’s face turned red with rage as he jumped up from his seat and yanked open door. “Uncuff my partner,” He demanded of the officer.
“I’m sorry detective but you know I can’t do that,” Officer Dylan answered.
“He is probably going to be released tomorrow.”
The officer shrugged, “I would lose my job if took the cuffs off.
“Starsk,” Hutch called from his bed, “its okay…really it’s okay.”
“This is ridiculous,” Starsky stormed but allowed the door to swing shut.
“Calm down partner,” Hutch said, he tried to smile but it turned into a grimace, his head still hurt badly.
Starsky flopped back down in the chair. “What happened?”
Hutch shrugged, “I was talking to Joe, the next thing I know I was in the ER getting my head stitched up.”
“Why aren’t you eating?” Starsky wanted to know.
“Not hungry I guess,” Hutch looked away not wanting to meet Starsky’s eyes.
“Trying to starve yourself to death is not the answer and you know it buddy.”
“I’m not trying to starve myself. I just wasn’t hungry.” Hutch reiterated again.
Starsky decided to drop the topic so he put on a smile and said. “You should be out of jail by tomorrow.”
“And then what?” Hutch asked turning his face back to his partner. “Do you think after this I’ll still have a job?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“I’m damaged,” Hutch said painfully.
“You can be deprogrammed, Doc Sam said so, and he will be willing to do it.” Starsky said. “You will be fine.”
“Starsky,” Hutch looked into his partner’s blue eyes. “I’m just not sure I can live with what I have done. And what if somewhere down the line I start remembering the actual events. I’m already having these flash back dreams. What if I go off on somebody else?”
“Like I said, Doc Sam can help you; this is exactly what he has helped hundreds of soldiers cope with.” Starsky tried to reassure Hutch. “Hey, why don’t I call the nurse, she said when you woke up that she would bring you a tray? And don’t even try to tell me you aren’t hungry. I’ll spoon feed you like a baby if I have too.”
“You would… wouldn’t you?” Hutch gave his friend a lopsided grin.

After Hutch drifted off to sleep Starsky glanced at his watch, it was nearly midnight; he had promised Hutch he would come for him in the morning. It hadn’t taken much for Starsky to convince his friend to spend the night in the hospital, the bed had just felt too good.
As he stepped out into to the cool night air he wondered how the interrogation went with Curtis Mayfair. Before going home Starsky called the station to see if Rhimes and Davis were still questioning Mayfair, but he was assured that they had all left for the night. He couldn’t wait to hear taped confession; it was mind boggling that the young man could have pulled all this off on his own.
Exhausted, Starsky headed home hoping to catch a few hours sleep before having to be at the hospital in the morning. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laid down to sleep. When he entered his apartment the first thing he noticed was the steady red flash of his answering machine. Starsky walked across the room and started to depress the button to get his messages. He stopped his hand inches above the button, instead he picked up the machine, yanked it from the wall and tossed it across the room.
Just as promised, Starsky was at the hospital to pick up his partner, another officer was stationed outside Hutch’s room. “’Morning,” Starsky said as he walked by him.
“Detective.”
Starsky opened the door and peered in, Hutch was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed in his blood stained orange jumpsuit, minus the handcuffs so he could dress. He was staring at the floor looking miserable. He looked up at the sound of his partner entering the room. “I guess I could be in my own bed tonight uh, Starsk?” he said somberly.
“I sure do hope so buddy,” Starsky winced at Hutch’s attire. “You should have called me, I would have gotten you some clothes.”
Hutch shrugged, “They have my suit at the station. I guess I’ll change when I get there.”
“You okay, did you eat?” Starsky asked still concerned.
Hutch gave him a weak smile. “I ate mom and I’m as good as anybody could be that is on trial for murder.”
Starsky sat down on the bed next to him, “It’s almost over.”
“So you keep telling me.”
“You know they won’t let me take you, you’ll have to go in the squad car.”
“I know.”
“Come on, cheer up, it’s ….”
“Starsky, please don’t tell it’s almost over again.”
Starsky gave him a rueful smile, “Sorry.”
The door opened and Henry Culver stepped in, “Are you ready to go Detective Hutchinson?”
“Yeah, Henry,” Hutch said getting gingerly off the bed, his head was still pounding and any sudden movement was rewarded with stabbing pain.
“Are you sure you are ready for this?” Starsky asked. “I’m sure we could postpone the trial for this.”
“No,” Hutch answered, “I just want to get it over with.”

When Starsky showed up out side the court room, Rhimes and Davis were waiting for him. “Christ, there you are, Conners is about to go ballistic.”
“Didn’t anybody tell him what happened to Hutch last night?” Starsky asked.
“I guess he must have missed the memo,” Davis joked trying to lighten the mood. “He found out this morning.”
Starsky gave him a cold stare, “Has he spoken to Hutch since he got back from the hospital.”
“I think he as waiting at the station when Hutch was brought back.” Rhimes said.
“What a mess,” Starsky paced nervously. “All we need is for this judge to get pissed off, call a mistrial; we would have to start all over. I don’t think Hutch could survive a second trial.”
“Well, he should be out today. Mayfair spilled his guts last night. Conners has the tape and the written transcripts.” Davis said trying to redeem himself with Starsky after his flippant comment.
“The father was having a fit the whole time. His lawyer finally had to force him to leave for fear he would be tossed in jail.” Rhimes said
“The son refused to even speak with his father or the lawyer. I’m sure he will go though a battery of psychiatric tests before he ever stands trial. The kid even agreed to testify this morning.” Davis told Starsky.
“Starsky!” Dobey came striding down the hall, “How is Hutchinson doing?”
“He’s here someplace Cap. I was with him at the hospital this morning but I wasn’t allowed to drive him to the station.” Starsky told his Captain. “He’s got a few stitches but he’s fine.”
“Good, good,” Lines of worry creased Dobey’s face.
Starsky pulled Dobey away from the other two detectives and asked, “Cap what is going to happen to Hutch?”
“I’m sure he’s going to be released.”
“I know, but I mean after that? What about his job? Will he be allowed to come back?” Starsky wanted to know.
Dobey stood there silently for a moment. Finally, he took a deep breath, “I’m going to be straight with you, Starsky. I’m not really sure what is going to happen. We have never had a circumstance like this before.”
“IS… Hutch going to lose his job?” Starsky felt a jolt, as if he had been shocked. He couldn’t lose his partner after all this.
“Starsky…” Dobey looked at his officer; he could clearly see the pain on his face. “All I can tell you right now is that I’m sure he will be on administrative leave for awhile. He is going to need time to get his life back on track.”
“This is going to kill Hutch.”
“He’ll have you to help him get through all this.” Dobey said putting a comforting hand on Starsky’s shoulder. “I think I can arrange you a little vacation time so you can be there for him.”
“Thanks, Cap,” Starsky said around the lump that had grown in his throat. If Hutch couldn’t be a police officer then they might as well throw him in jail.
“We better get in there,” Rhimes said as he walked up to Starsky and Dobey. “The trial is getting ready to start.”
Starsky entered the court room flanked by his Captain and the two detectives. Hutch was already sitting at the front, with Conners whispering in his ear. Gone was the hideous jumpsuit and instead of the swath of bandages from the night before, Hutch only had a square flesh colored band aid to hide his stitches.
As always, Starsky took his seat directly behind his partner. “I’m here.” He whispered. Hutch merely nodded to let Starsky know he had heard him, as he was still deep in conversation with Conners. Starsky hoped this was as good sign.
Once again the entire court room stood as Judge Adams entered. When they were seated, the Judge looked in Hutch’s direction. “Mr. Conners, I understand that Detective Hutchinson had an accident last night.”
“Yes, sir,” Conners stood as he addressed the Judge.
“I am assuming that since he is in the court room this morning that we are able to continue.”
“Yes your Honor.”
“Very well, let’s began.” Judge Adams riffled through the papers he had in front of him. He looked over at Riseling, “Mr. Riseling, do you have a copy of the confession from Curtis Mayfair.”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“I would like to see both counselors in my chambers,” Judge Adams stated. “We will have a twenty minute recess.”
“What’s going on?” Starsky hissed from his seat.
“Don’t worry,” Conners answered as he gathered his papers. “This is a good thing…I hope anyway.”
Once Riseling and Conners were in the Judge’s office and were seated, the Judge said, “I have spent the better part of the night mulling over this case. I won’t say this type of thing isn’t unprecedented but it is unusual, all evidence points to that fact that Kenneth Hutchinson did commit the crimes of which he is accused. But, we have a confession from a young man saying that he force the defendant to do these crimes which the defendant was totally unaware he was doing. So the question is… what to do?”
“Hutchinson still did the crimes, he should pay for it.” Riseling answered, he didn’t want to lose such a high profile case.
“He was as much a victim as Brooks and Delocasa was,” Conners said as he pulled out Mayfair’s confession. “Mr. Mayfair broke into Hutchinson’s apartment several times daily. He would first go in after the detective left for work, drug his water, then come back after he was sure the detective had drank the water and was out cold. Then he would play tapes all night long through headphones which he attached to my clients head. Have you listened to those tapes?” Conners looked from the Judge to Riseling.
“Yes, I have heard them,” The Judge answered, but Riseling only nodded.
“Then you know they start out threatening that Hutchinson’s partner, girlfriend and parents would be murdered if he did not comply. Then as time went on Mayfair began instructing how to commit these murders. It has been confirmed that it is indeed Mayfair’s voice on the tapes. He gave him a trigger word, which was Dominic. We can continue this trial and I can drag every expert witness I can get my hands on in to testify. We cost the citizens of this community thousands of dollars, keep a man in jail that does not deserve to be there, but it won’t change the out come. Detective Kenneth Hutchinson is not guilty by reason of insanity due to brainwashing.”


​                                                                                      ~CHAPTER TWELVE~

​
The court room was a buzz with speculations as to what was going on behind closed doors with the lawyers and the Judge. Reporters were poised, ready to run with breaking news. Ellen Brooks sat stoically waiting, wondering if the man that had murdered her husband would be put behind bars. The only indication of her nerves was the constant twisting of a handkerchief she held in her hands. She was once again accompanied by a younger woman, whom was not holding up as well and would dab at her eyes occasionally.
Starsky squirmed in his seat but Hutch sat unmoving, his head down. For the first time since the trial had started he wondered what was next for him when he was released. Would he have a job and if he did, would he be able to do it? Hutch knew that his life had been forever changed. The stigma of the killings would follow him; people would at least, for a while, stare and point.
Riseling, followed by Conners, entered the courtroom. Both went to their own tables and sat down to wait for the Judge to reenter the room. It was nearly ten minutes before the door opened and the Judge took his seat. He banged his gavel to bring the court to attention, looking toward Frank Conners he asked, “Mr. Conners, you have a motion to make?”
Conners jumped to his feet, “Yes, your Honor.”
“Then make it.”
“If it would please the court, I would like to change my client’s plea to not guilty by reason of insanity due to brainwashing.”
“The court accepts your new plea, and grants it.” Judge Adams announced.
There was a stunned gasp from the courtroom full of on lookers. The reporters took off hoping that they would be the first to break the story. Starsky squeezed Hutch’s shoulder from behind him.
“I know this is highly unusual but due to the unusual circumstances of this case, it could damage the integrity of the case against the young man that perpetrated this entire incident.” The Judge knew that the backlash would be swift, but he had no alternative. As Conners had said, it would serve no purpose to continue with the trial. “I do have one stipulation. Kenneth Hutchinson, will you please stand? You must under go psychological counseling by a court approved Doctor until it is determined that you have been deprogrammed. Is that agreeable?”
Hutch looked down at Conners, who nodded, then he looked back at the Judge, “Yes, sir.”
“You are free to go Mr. Hutchinson.” The Judge banged his gavel again and left the room. The events that ensued after the Judge left would not be soon forgotten by anyone in the courtroom.
“NOOOOO, nooooooooooo.” It sounded like a wounded animal that had just been caught in a trap. Ellen Brooks jumped to her feet and made her way to the front of the room before any one could stop her. She stood in front of Hutch, being several inches shorter than he; she stared up into his face, tears streaming down her own. “I knew it; I knew they would never put one of their own in jail. My husband was a hard working, decent man.” She yelled into Hutch’s face, she began to pummel him with her fists. Hutch stood there taking the abuse not even making a move to protect himself.
It was Starsky that came to Hutch’s rescue; he grabbed the woman from behind pinning her arms to her sides. “Come on, Mrs. Brooks, calm down!”
“You calm down,” She screamed.
Two officers ran to assist Starsky who was beginning to lose his grip on her. The officers got on each side of the crazed woman so that Starsky could release her, it was all they could do to hold her as she screamed, withered and kicked her legs.
“I’m sorry,” Hutch said, tears standing in his own eyes.
For a moment his words quieted her, “Go to hell,” she said in a deadly tone of voice, then spit in his face.
“Get her out of here,” Starsky ordered the officers.
Hutch stood there allowing the spit to run down his face, making no attempts to wipe it away. Conners pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to Hutch.
The room was in chaos as Brooks’ widow was being lead out of the court room; she was still screaming and crying. It wasn’t much better out on the court house steps as hundreds of people crushed together to hear the news of what had just happened in court. Many were waving signs, there were boo’s and cheer’s depending how they stood on the out come of the trial.
“Detective Starsky,” the bailiff called to the detective, why don’t you all come out this way. The man indicated to the way the prisoner’s were brought in.
“Come on, Hutch,” Starsky tugged on his partners arm. “We have got to get you out of here.” He also poked Conners, who was still watching the woman being drug out. “Conners, this way.”
It was the first time Hutch had walked through the doors with out cuffs on since the trial started. The bailiff led them through the area with the holding cells and out a back door to the parking lot. “Don’t know how you are going to get to your car, but at least you won’t have to walk through that mob out front. I suspect they are going to have to call the police.”
“Thanks, John,” Starsky said.
“Not a problem,” the man said as he went back into the building.
“Now what?” Conners asked as they stood looking around, both of their cars were in the parking lot across the street from the front of the court house.
As if out of nowhere a white Lincoln Town Car with tinted windows pulled up in front of them, instinctively Starsky got in between Hutch and the automobile. The heavily tinted passenger window rolled down. “You all going to just stand there or what?” Starsky peered in at the driver, Huggy sat there grinning. “Come on lets boogie out of here before somebody figures out where you went.”
“Christ, Huggy, you scared the crap out of me.” Starsky said as he opened the back door and shoved a dazed Hutch inside. Conners opened the other door and slid in next to Huggy.
“Frankie, my man,” Huggy exclaimed.
“We are square now.” Frank Conners winked at Huggy.
The two detectives sat opened mouthed in the back seat. “You’re the one that sent Conners to defend Hutch?”
“That would be me.” Huggy chuckled at their expressions he caught in the rearview mirror. “Do you think I only know low life’s?”

Starsky unlocked and opened the door to Hutch’s apartment, some how in all the tumult, Starsky has been able to get Hutch’s place cleaned up after the damage done during the search and stock his refrigerator.
Hutch walked in and dropped down on his couch, he ran his hand over the fabric, he really hadn’t thought he would ever be sitting in his apartment again.
Then, he hit the shower; it had never felt so good as he let the hot water pelt his body. After putting on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats he went out to find Starsky sitting on the couch.
“Are you hungry buddy?” Starsky asked as he got up from the couch and went into the kitchen, “I even restocked your dried up liver stuff for that glop you drink.”
Hutch smiled briefly, he wasn’t hungry but he knew if he didn’t eat something, his mother hen wouldn’t be happy, “Sure.” Hutch said noncommittally.
“What sounds good?” Starsky questioned as he opened the refrigerator and stared into it.
“What ever sounds good to you,” Hutch answered. All he really wanted to do was go lay down in his own bed; he was exhausted and emotionally drained.
Starsky bounded into the living room, “Even pizza?” he raised his eye brows up and down.
This time Hutch let out a little laugh and a real smile. “Sure Starsk, go for it… get the works, it’s on me.”
Starsky laughed and grabbed the telephone, “It sure is good to have you back Hutch.”
“It’s nice to be back,” Hutch said, then added, “I guess.” He fell back into his funk as he leaned his head onto the back of the couch and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew there was a knock at the door and the pizza had arrived. He reached for his wallet then remembered it was still at the station. They would have to go sign paper work and get his belongings in the morning. Conners said that because of the crowds he would arrange it all for the next day. “Ahhh, Starsk, I….”
“Hey, it should be my treat anyway,” he said as he pulled out his wallet paid the kid holding the pizza and gave him a healthy tip.
“Thanks, mister,” the kid said as he ran back down the stairs.
Starsky plopped the pie down in the center of the coffee table and flipped the cardboard top open. “Just smell that.” He said leaning over and taking in the aroma coming from the pizza. “Let me grab a couple of plates…want a beer?”
“Sure,” Hutch agreed, maybe if he had enough beer he would be able to sleep through the night with out nightmares.
It was nearly midnight when Starsky roused Hutch from the couch, they had each had several beers and there was only one slice of pizza left. Hutch had fallen asleep just before ten and Starsky shortly after. Starsky wasn’t sure what had awaken him, but when he saw how late it was he decided it was time for Hutch to get into bed.
“Come on sleepy head,” Starsky nudged Hutch awake.
“What?” Hutch opened his eyes a slit and looked around. He closed them again; he was back in his own apartment. He had been dreaming he was still on that old cot back in the cell.
“Why don’t you hit the bed where you will be more comfortable, uh?” Starsky suggested.
“You going home?” Hutch asked as he stiffly got to his feet.
“Naww… I thought I would just hang out here on your couch if that’s okay with you.” Starsky said, stretching out where Hutch had just vacated.
Hutch started to protest and tell Starsky he would be fine but if the truth were known, he didn’t really want to be by himself.


                                                                                 ~CHAPTER THIRTEEN~


Hutch sat in Dobey’s office, it had been set up by Frank Conners that he would be able to sign the paper work and get his personal effects back in his Captain’s office. Dobey came in carrying a large manila folder which he dumped out on his desk. Hutch’s wallet, badge, and watch slid out, inside was a check list of the items which the Captain checked off as Hutch looked over everything making sure that his wallet still had his cash, credit cards and other things intact.
Hutch picked up his badge and turned it over in his hands then handed it to Dobey. “I guess you will need this.”
Dobey nodded, “Your gun too. I’m really sorry about this Hutch. You have an opened ended administrative leave.”
“Starsky has my gun,” Hutch said. They had grabbed it before they left the apartment knowing that Hutch would have to turn it in. “Nothing to be sorry about Cap.”
There was a knock at the door; Frank Conners opened it poking his head in, “Good time?”
“Come on in,” Dobey said.
Conners sat down next to Hutch and pulled out several papers for Hutch to sign; his release would then be final. It was unusual for it to take place the next day but there had been nothing usual about the case. “All right Ken, sign and you are a free man.” Conners handed him a pen then warned, “Remember, you have to see a court approved doctor.”
Hutch nodded taking the pen, as he went to sign the paper his hand started shaking so badly he had to lay the pen on the desk and gather his composure.
“Are you alright, Hutchinson?” Dobey asked. He wished that Starsky was here, but he trying to get Sam Smith approved as Hutch’s doctor.
“I guess it just finally hit me.” Hutch said picking up the pen again. Dobey wasn’t the only one wishing that Starsky was here. He finally signed the paper and several others which Conners then slipped into his brief case.
“It was a pleasure Ken,” Conners said extending his hand.
“Thank you,” Hutch said shaking his hand.
“Hey don’t thank me, thank that partner of yours.” Conners said graciously.
“Just how do you know Huggy Bear anyway?” Hutch eyed Conners.
Conners laughed and got up to leave without answering Hutch’s question. “See you around.”
When the lawyer was gone Dobey asked. “It was Huggy that sent Conners to defend you?”
Hutch nodded, “Go figure, didn’t ask for a dime either, must have owed Hug a pretty big favor.”
“That man surprises me every day,” Dobey said shaking his head.
Another knock at the door brought Starsky into the office. He was smiling ear to ear, “Well, we got Sam as your doc Hutch.”
Hutch was happy to hear the news, he felt comfortable with Sam. He knew the man understood what he was going through. “When do we start?”
“Next week, give you some time to get back in the swing of things.” Starsky said. Hutch was a little disappointed, he was eager to get started and get his life back.

A warm spurt of blood hit Hutch in the face as he repeatedly stabbed Jackie Delocasa, the man was dead but he just continued stabbing, almost unhinged with rage. Hutch was mumbling numbers under his breath as he stabbed; his clothing was soaked with blood as were his face and hair. Each stab was as savage as the last, some of them going nearly through the dead man’s body.
Hutch sat up in bed, his breathing was heavy and ragged as he grappled with where he was. His hands felt his chest expecting it to be sticky, wet with blood, but all he felt was his bare chest. Hutch’s hands then began to shake, he brought his legs up to his chest until he was most sitting in a fetal position.
That was how Starsky found him the next morning, curled in a ball, forehead resting on his knees, rocking back and forth. Starsky knew there was something wrong the moment he awoke, the apartment was dead silent, nothing was out of place, but it was just a feeling that he had.
He jumped up dashing to Hutch’s bed room. His heart sunk when he saw Hutch, “Hutch, buddy,” Starsky said sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you alright?” He put his hand on Hutch’s head but he shied away from him. “What happened?”
“Dream,” Hutch finally muttered after several minutes.
“Hutch, look at me.” Hutch lifted his head dragging his eyes to his partners face. They were bloodshot and pain filled. “Maybe we need to see if Sam can start now.”
“If he is going to make me remember, I’m not sure I want too.” Hutch said.
“If you don’t see him then the judge might put you back in jail.”
“I know, I know,” Hutch sighed; he unfolded his legs and swung them over the edge of the bed. “I just don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“Why don’t you go get a shower and I’ll whip up some breakfast for us.” Starsky suggested.
Hutch picked at the scrambled eggs that Starsky put before him. “The dreams are awful Starsk,” Hutch said as he pushed the eggs around his plate. “I think I’m seeing what I did to Delocasa, God it’s not pretty, how could I do something like that unless it was already in my nature.” That was what scared Hutch the most, what if he was some kind of monster lurking just under the surface and luckily nothing had triggered it yet. “Aren’t you afraid to be around me?”
Starsky put down his fork and laughed. “You are one of the most caring, gentle people I know. You wouldn’t hurt me or anybody else.”
“But, Starsky, I didn’t just hurt two people, I killed them and in a gruesome manner.”
“That wasn’t you.” Starsky said, “That was Mayfair.”
“I just don’t understand how the hell he did all that.” Hutch said finally giving up on his meal, the fork hit the plate with a loud clink.
“You need to listen to his confession or at least read the transcripts. The kid just completely lost it. As you know, his sister was one of the girls picked up when you raided that warehouse. Do you even remember her?”
Hutch shook his head no, “That was a crazy scene. It was sickening how many under aged kids were there, when we broke in a boy and girl were on a bed having sex they couldn’t have been more than twelve. All we wanted to do was to get those kids out of there and the scum arrested. Why couldn’t have Delocasa have been there? None of this would have happened.”
“The girl, Mayfair’s sister, is in a mental hospital now, they say she hasn’t spoken since the raid, she’s practically catatonic.” Starsky said telling Hutch things that he had read in the transcript. “It’s such a waste, Curtis is brilliant, he would have been a credit to the medical field. He came in here two to three times a day for almost three months and never got caught, and stayed on the honor roll to boot.”
“My cop radar must have been off,” Hutch quipped, “How did I not pick up on the fact that somebody was in my apartment?”
“You were being drugged Hutch and very skillfully at that. Mayfair was putting the sleeping pills in the water every day after you left, emptying it every night before he left after he was finished with you. I guess after the last killing he didn’t feel the need to bother with emptying it. We found the drug in your water jug and in a glass behind your bedside stand. If it hadn’t been for that slip up you might still be behind bars.”
“I guess it was a good thing I wasn’t really thirsty, I could have overdosed.” Hutch said.
“What is creepy is how long he had to have watched you to get your routine down.” Starsky said. “I have wracked my brain trying to think if I remember anybody hanging around, a car parked, anything.”
“Starsky,” Hutch looked over at his partner with red rimmed eyes, “Call Sam, I don’t want to wait until next week to get started.” Hutch’s greatest fear was that maybe he was a danger to others, at least the way he was now.

Hutch’s first session with Dr. Sam Smith lasted for three hours. Starsky sat out side the doctor’s house in his car for most of that time, leaving only long enough to get something to drink. Sam, unlike at the station had asked to see Hutch alone.
When the front door finally opened, both Hutch and the doctor stepped outside, Hutch looked worn and beaten down. Starsky jumped out of his car and ran up the sidewalk. “How did it go?” Hutch brushed past his friend as he went to the car. Starsky turned to stare at him.
Sam put his hand on Starsky’s shoulder, “Son, give him some time. He is really having a rough go with all this; I haven’t seen many men that didn’t. The ones that were okay with what they had done were the ones I worried about.”
“Is there anything I can do for him?”
“Just be there for him. He may or may not want to talk about it. If he does, listen, if he doesn’t, don’t ask.” Sam advised. “We are going to meet every other day for now; he needs to rest in between the sessions. Will you be able to bring him? I really don’t want him driving after one of our sessions, they are pretty intense.”
“Of course,” Starsky said glancing toward the car. Hutch was inside his head resting on the window. “Is he going to be alright?”
“I think so. Your partner has a lot to deal with. Not only deprogramming him, but he has to come terms with what he has done. I can help him with that also.”
“Do you think he will ever be able to come back to the department with me?”
“That is up to Ken.” The doctor said. “I’ll see you day after tomorrow.
Starsky had a dozen more questions but he didn’t really know how to ask them. All he wanted was his old friend back, not this sullen, moody, unhappy man that had been release from jail.

Two weeks of sessions had passed and Hutch seemed to be in a better mood. Starsky was still sleeping on his couch even though his back was starting to protest, but he couldn’t leave Hutch. What Hutch hadn’t told his doctor or Starsky was that the dreams were getting worse and more vivid. He awoke nearly ever night almost in sheer panic and revulsion; he now knew every horrible detail of both killings.
It had been after his Friday session of that second week when Hutch decided what he had to do. He smiled and shook Sam’s hand as he left the doctor’s house, bounded out to Starsky’s Torino and told his partner they were going out to eat. Perhaps, if Starsky hadn’t been over so overjoyed at Hutch’s up lifted mood, he would have been suspicious but he wasn’t.
After dinner at Starsky’s favorite Italian restaurant, they went back to Hutch’s apartment. “Hey pal why don’t you go home and sleep in comfort tonight uh? I’ll be fine, I promise.”
The thought of sleeping in his own bed did sound good to Starsky and his sore back. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, go on, the sessions with Doc Sam are really helping. I’m feeling better about everything.”
Starsky could see the change in his partner but was still reluctant, “I don’t know, maybe we should wait a while longer.”
“Starsk, really, I’m fine. I see the way you keep walking around holding your back. Go home, get a good night's sleep and if I don’t do okay tonight then you can come back tomorrow and torture your back.”
Finally, Starsky agreed to go home, Hutch waited until he was sure his partner was gone before he left his apartment and headed for a nearby grocery store on foot. He walked up and down the aisles of the store until he found what he was looking for; selecting the item he went to the cashier to pay for it. She smiled at him, thinking he was kinda cute as she took his money and slipped the pack of razor blades into a small sack.
When the tub was full with out spilling over, Hutch took off his robe neatly hanging it on a hook on the back of the door. Then he gingerly got into the hot water, steam was rising from the tub, little by little he eased into the tub. Hutch closed his eyes for a few moments as he leaned his head on the back of the tub, his thoughts going to Starsky again. His only regret was how his friend was going to feel, he knew that Starsky would never understand why he did this.
Finally, Hutch opened his eyes and took the razor blade he had placed on the edge of the tub. He held his wrist up and studied it, some place he had read that if you made the cuts vertical instead of horizontal you would bleed out quicker. He took a deep breath and put the razor blade to his wrist just below the palm of his hand, he knew he would have to cut deep and wondered if it would hurt. ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​Hutch put pressure on the edge of the blade, a prick of blood oozed out. He pressed hard and began drawing the razor blade back toward his elbow making about a three inch gash in his arm. The blood covered his arm and began dripping into the hot bath water making interesting pink designs as it hit the water and dispersed. Hutch stopped for a moment and watched the patterns of pink, then he drew the blade up his arm two more times. Now the blood was flowing heavily from the wounds on his left wrist, Hutch moved to his right arm and made the same three slashes. The water in the tub was quickly turning from pink to red.
Hutch placed the razor blade back on the side of the tub leaving a bloody pool of water and slid down into the bath up to his neck, his hands at his sides. All his worries and cares were washing away as the blood flowed out of his body. He closed his eyes, giving away to the sleepy feeling that was coming over him. “I love you Starsk,” Hutch mumbled as he fell unconscious.


                                                                                   ~CHAPTER FIFTEEN~

I love you Starsk
Starsky’s eyes flew open, “Hutch?” He knew he had heard Hutch’s voice. He jumped out of bed and ran into the living room turning on lights as he went. “Hutch, are you here?”
It was clear that his partner was not in his apartment that was when the panic set in. Starsky grabbed the phone and dialed Hutch’s number with shaking fingers. Ten rings and nothing, he tried to tell himself that Hutch was just asleep and didn’t hear the phone but in his heart he knew that was not why he wasn’t answering.
Starsky tore into the bed room to get dressed, his mind racing as to why Hutch wouldn’t be answering the phone, maybe he was sleeping soundly, or perhaps he had gone out for a drive or…or. He kept coming back to his greatest fear, what if Hutch had decided to kill himself; there… he had finally voiced what had been nagging at him.
Why had he let his guard down? Why had he agreed to leave Hutch alone tonight? He should have known that he wasn’t ready yet. Suddenly, things made sense, the sudden good mood, the wanting to go out to eat, Hutch was saying good bye to his friend, leaving him with happy memories of the two of them.
“Shit!” Starsky exclaimed slamming both palms down on the steering wheel as the light turned red just before he got to it. He was tempted to turn on his siren and light but it was late at night, he thought it would be smooth sailing over to Hutch’s apartment. “Screw this!” Starsky shouted. After taking a look both ways to make sure there was nobody coming he floored the Torino through the red light.
He had only gone a half a block when he heard the siren and saw the flashing light in his rear view mirror. Starsky debated about not stopping but then changed his mind, pulled over and got out of his car.
A police car screeched up behind him and the driver door flew open. “Stay where you are,” the officer commanded as he pulled his gun from his holster.
“Listen,” Starsky said still approaching the officer’s car, “I’m a police officer, I …”
“I said stay where you are, put your hands up.” The officer was now standing, aiming his gun at Starsky.
Starsky stopped, “I can show you my badge.” He started to reach in his pocket when he heard the officer’s gun cock.
“Put your hands on your car, NOW!”
Knowing that unless he cooperated he was never getting to Hutch, Starsky turned and placed his hands on the trunk of his car and spread his legs. “Check my back pocket, I’m Detective Starsky, I work at the Bay City Police Department.”
The officer carefully approached and pulled Starsky’s badge wallet from his jeans pocket. He flipped it open and trained his flash light on it. “I’m sorry detective. But, if you are on a run, you should really turn on your lights.”
Starsky grabbed his wallet out of the officer’s hand, “I’ll make a note of that,” he snapped as he jumped back into his car, jammed it into gear and sped off, leaving the officer watching open mouthed.
He slowed as he turned on to Hutch’s street, the beat up old Ford was sitting there, Starsky pulled up and parked behind it. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved it was there or worried. He took the stairs two at a time until he was standing at Hutch’s door; he knocked softly at first not wanting to rouse the neighbors. The knocks became louder and finally he gave up and reached for the key above the door frame-it was gone.
Starsky felt as if he were going to explode, why were the powers that be keeping him from his partner? He backed up, put his shoulder into it and crashed through the door; his momentum sent him sprawling on the floor. He was half expecting to see a furious Hutch standing there, since he had crashed through the door, but no such luck.
He quickly got to his feet and looked around the room, “Hutch?” Starsky called as he went into the bedroom. The bed was still made and there was no sign of Hutch. Starsky went back into the living room and looked around again; the only thing out of place was a beer bottle sitting on the kitchen table. As he got closer he noticed an envelope leaning against it. The letter was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Hutchinson, he started to pick it up but he noticed a second envelope laying flat on the table. This one had his name on it, Starsky felt as though he was going to be sick as he picked it up.
The envelope was heavy; Starsky peered inside to see Hutch’s pocket watch and a letter. “Damn it, Hutch, where are you?” That was when he noticed the closed bathroom door. Starsky dropped the envelope to the table, the watch made a loud thump. He felt as if he were in a long tunnel and it kept getting longer with every step he took.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity in his mind, he arrived at the bathroom door which, in reality, took just mere seconds. He started to bang on the door, but instead turned the knob; he was half expecting it to be locked but it turned easily in his hand. Hope sprung up in him, thinking that Hutch had just gone for a walk to clear his head after all.
Starsky pushed open the bathroom door; so many things grabbed his attention at once. The pack of razors on the sink, the single blade lying on the side of the tub in a bloody pool of water and Hutch’s blonde head, just visible above a tub full of blood-so much blood that nothing registered for a moment.
“NO,” Starsky’s agonized cried filled the room as he realized what he was seeing. He bolted toward the tub and slipped on the bath mat that was saturated with water, almost falling into the tub of gore. “Hutch!” Starsky dropped to his knees ignoring the water and soppy wet mat. He quickly felt for a pulse, to his relief he felt a slight one, and Hutch was also breathing, but barely. His color was ashen, as though all the blood in his body was already gone.
Starsky knew he had to get help so he left his partner only long enough to call an ambulance. Once back in the bath room, Starsky depressed the lever in the tub to allow the water to start draining out. He winced as he saw the cuts on Hutch’s wrists as the water level went down. There was blood still coming from them. He yanked a towel from the towel rack and ripped it into several pieces, then tied the strips around Hutch’s wrists to stem the bleeding.
“Come on, Hutch, don’t DO THIS… don’t you die on me.” Starsky looked around wildly and spied the bath robe hanging on the back of the door. He grabbed it, then with much effort, pulled Hutch from the tub. Starsky wrapped the robe around Hutch and cradled him in his lap hoping that the ambulance would be there soon. He smoothed his partner’s wet hair, he was as cold as ice, he talked to him in a low voice; tears were streaming down his face.
Starsky rocked Hutch gently back and forth; he didn’t stop talking to him until he heard the paramedics at the door. “IN HERE!” he screamed. “HURRY!”
The two men crowded in the bath room, “Sir, you are going to have to lay him down so that we can check him out.” Starsky reluctantly laid Hutch on the cold tile floor, “I’m still here, buddy.” He whispered.
“You need to step out and give us room to work.”
“I’m right outside, Hutch,” Starsky called to Hutch as he stepped out of the bathroom but hovered in the doorway so that he could watch the men work.
“Holy shit, Jeremy, isn’t this the cop that…” the paramedic looked up to see Starsky glaring at him. “Ah, what’s his PB?” His partner relayed the information to him. “We better get him out of here or he’s not going to make it.” The man wondered if he would make it anyway from the looks of the bathroom he had already lost a whole lot of blood and his blood pressure was almost nonexistent.
“You think we should rewrap his wrists?” Jeremy asked.
The other man shook his head, “We would just do more damage by messing with what that fellow there did. Let’s just get him to the hospital.”
Along with Starsky’s help they eased Hutch out of the bathroom and on to the gurney. They put an oxygen mask over Hutch’s face and started an IV of fluids until they could get him to the hospital and start replenishing his blood supply.
“You can follow us,” The paramedic told Starsky as they strapped Hutch down.
Starsky nodded numbly, he watched the two men carry Hutch down the stairs and to the waiting ambulance. Once he was loaded in, one of the paramedics jumped in the back while the other one slid into the driver’s seat. Starsky slapped the light on the top of the Torino; he wasn’t taking any chances of getting stopped this time.
A medical team was waiting for the ambulance when it pulled in, a doctor and several nurses rushed out to meet the paramedics as they unloaded their patient. “Trauma room three,” one of the nurses shouted, following the paramedics, as they pushed the stretcher down the hall to the room the nurse had indicated. As they were loading Hutch onto a second gurney the paramedics rattled off the patient’s vital information.
“Type and cross match this man’s blood stat!” the emergency room doctor shouted as he pried Hutch’s eyes open to shine a light into them. He shook his head, not liking how they were reacting to the light. He didn’t want to lose the first patient of his shift. “Get those wounds cleaned up.” He had moved to Hutch’s wrists, the towel that Starsky had tied them up with was already saturated.
“His partner said he was B-negative.” One of the nurses reported.
“Then get it!”
“It’s coming Doctor.” Another nurse answered as she began unwrapping Starsky’s make shift bandage.
“We need that blood now!” The doctor stormed at the nurse. “We have to get this man stable enough to go to surgery. He has severed several arteries and they will have to be repaired in surgery.”

Starsky would have followed the stretcher right into the trauma room if he hadn’t been stopped by two nurses that told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was not allowed in the treatment room. One of the nurses took pity on him and found him a set of scrubs, “Why don’t you go change into these while we work on your friend,” She suggested.
Starsky looked at her confused for a moment, then looked down at his clothes. There were wet and covered with Hutch’s blood, he accepted the scrubs following her to a near by bathroom.
“You clean up; I’ll come get you when there is some news.” She said.
Before the door could close Starsky poked his head out. “B-negative.”
“What?” the nursed paused and turned around.
“My partner’s blood type is B-negative.”
Starsky stood staring at his reflection in the mirror; he began to shake as all the emotions he had held in came bubbling to the surface. He braced himself on the edge of the sink to keep from falling as he knees almost gave out. What if he hadn’t come by until morning? Hutch would be dead; he would have found Hutch dead in a tub full of blood.
He knew his partner wasn’t out of the woods, he could still die. Maybe he had been too late after all. Starsky shook the thoughts from his head and pulled a wad of paper towels from the receptacle hanging on the wall; he wet them and began cleaning the blood from his face and arms. He stripped off his saturated clothing and tossed them into the trash, once dressed, he went out into the hall to find a pay phone.

When Sam Smith got there, he found Starsky sitting in the waiting room staring at his shoes. “How is Ken?” The doctor asked sitting down next to the detective.
“I don’t know,” Starsky mumbled, he couldn’t take his eyes from his shoes, now he was rubbing his feet together. “Can’t get it off.”
“What?” Sam asked.
“The blood…Hutch’s blood, I can’t get it off my shoes.”
“David,” Sam put his hand on Starsky’s shoulder. “Look at me.” When Starsky didn’t, the doctor demanded, “David, look at me!”
Starsky pulled his gaze from his shoes to the doctor’s face. “It’s my fault,” There was a catch in his voice.
“How do you figure? If it hadn’t been for you, he would be dead.” Sam said.
“I shouldn’t have left him alone; the signs were there, I missed them.” Tears were beginning to spill from Starsky’s eyes.
“David, I’m his doctor and I had no idea. His progress was slow but it’s different with every person.”
“B-but… I-I k-know him.” Starsky finally broke down; he laid his head on his arms and sobbed.
Sam sat there rubbing his back as Starsky cried, letting him get it all out before he tried to talk to him again.

A nurse carrying a bag of blood entered the trauma room, “Get that hung now!” the doctor yelled. He looked into Hutch’s eyes again. “Shit,” he said under his breath as he looked at the heart monitor, “We’re losing him.”
“Get a crash cart in here just in case!” the nurse yelled as she was hanging the blood.
The blip on the monitor was getting smaller and smaller until there was a flat line and a steady beep from the machine. “He’s crashing!”


                                                                                        ~CHAPTER SIXTEEN~


​ Hutch sat on the wide veranda that ran the length of the beach house, from the back and around one side, where steps lead down to the first floor. He wore a white cable knit sweater, white draw string cotton pants and his bare feet were propped up on the railing. The contrast between the sweater and the bare feet seemed a bit ridiculous but he didn’t care as he sipped his cup of coffee and watched the waves break in the distance.
A breeze, slightly cool since winter was quickly approaching, ruffled his blonde hair, he was tan and healthy looking again. Sensing he wasn’t alone, he looked to his right to see someone standing at the very end of the veranda, instantly he knew who it was.
Starsky stood staring at Hutch; it had been three long months since he had seen him, probably three of the longest months of his life. Slowly, he walked down the veranda until he was only a few feet from his partner. “Hi ya, Hutch.”
“How ya doin’, Starsk?” Hutch looked up at him and smiled. “Why don’t you sit down?”
Starsky sat in the chair next to Hutch’s, why was this so awkward he wondered to himself. Hutch looked much different than the last time he had seen him….at the hospital. Hutch had been so pale, looked like death warmed over but now he had a healthy glow about him, he looked like the old Hutch or maybe a new and improved Hutch. Starsky couldn’t take his eyes off his friend.
“How’s it going?” Starsky carefully measured his words; he didn’t want to say anything wrong.
“Good, good,” Hutch sipped at his coffee, then, as an after thought he asked, “You want some?” Starsky shook his head. “Are things okay at the station?”
“Same as always…well not exactly the same, but...” Starsky began but he didn’t add that he was missing his partner. Starsky was so full of questions that he dare not ask.
Sam had called him the day before to tell him that Hutch was ready to go home. Starsky had wanted come that very minute, but Sam had suggested the next day instead. The past three months had nearly killed Starsky, even though he was getting almost daily up dates from Sam, it still wasn’t the same as being there.

That night in the hospital, as Hutch had been fighting for his life, Sam had suggested something that at first Starsky rebelled against. The doctor wanted to take Hutch away, away where it would be just the doctor and Hutch, no other distractions.
“But, why?” Starsky asked horrified at what Sam was suggesting.
“David, he needs time to heal, to deprogram, and to get his life back with out distractions.” Sam laid it on the line.
“Are you calling me a distraction?” Starsky instantly became defensive.
“Not at all, you are a good friend, maybe too good sometimes.” Sam said. “Ken needs to learn to rely on himself again and not use you as a crutch.”
“How long?”
“I can’t predict that.” Sam answered. “I have a friend who has this great beach house down the coast; I would like to take Ken there.”
“I don’t know,” Starsky said.
“Let me level with you, David,” Sam said turning in his seat so that he could look at the detective. “You got lucky tonight, you found him. But if he doesn’t get the help he needs, Ken will keep trying until he succeeds. He meant business tonight, this wasn’t a cry for help, this was… I want to die. You can’t watch him around the clock forever. If somebody really wants to kill themselves they will find a way to do it. Mark my words, if something isn’t done for him, he will be dead before the year is out.”
Starsky’s eyes filled with tears, “What makes you think he will agree to do this?”
“You will tell him to.” Sam said.
“I think you over estimate the power I have over Hutch.”
Sam shook his head, “In the state that he’s in right now, he will do what you tell him to do.”
Starsky sighed and nodded, “Alright.”
“You won’t be able to see him; it will be just Ken and me.”
“I understand.” Starsky said.
What he hadn’t understood was that it would be months before he saw his friend again.

The sky was darkening but the two men didn’t move from the veranda. “I missed you,” Starsky said softly.
“Yeah, I missed you too.”
“Sam kept me up to date on what was going on with you.” Starsky thought his words sounded hollow. He had never had a problem talking to Hutch before but now he didn’t know what to say.
Hutch nodded, “What happened to Mayfair?”
Starsky hesitated; it was not a topic he wanted to discuss. Sam had told him that if Hutch asked questions that is was okay to answer them. But this was a question that he didn’t want to answer. A month after Hutch went away to the beach; Mayfair hung himself in his cell.
Hutch looked at his friend in the growing darkness, “Starsk?”
“He killed himself in jail,” Starsky said, he couldn’t bring himself to look at Hutch so he stared out at the ocean.
Hutch didn’t comment on Mayfair’s death, instead he said, “You know the whole thing started on the beach with his sister.”
“She’s back home; I heard that she is speaking again.”
“I’m glad.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them, they sat until the moon began to shine on the ocean and the chill in the air was almost unbearable. “How about some dinner?” Hutch finally said, breaking the stillness. “Sam is gone until tomorrow, I guess he wanted to give us a little space.”
“Sure, sounds good,” Starsky answered. All Starsky really wanted to do was jump in his car and head home. The banter that they had once shared seemed to be gone; it had been replaced with an unpleasant silence that he was not used to. Did they really have so little to talk about? They hadn’t seen each other in three months. What was he suppose to ask? How was it being trapped in the beach house?
Hutch busied himself making dinner, grateful he had something to do besides sit and try to think of something to say. He knew that Starsky was uncomfortable with him. He had heaped a lot on his friend’s shoulders, he wouldn’t have blamed him if Starsky hadn’t wanted to come to see him, and maybe he really didn’t want to. Maybe he was there out of a sense of duty.
The steaks were marinating and the potatoes baking when Hutch pulled up a stool at the kitchen counter that also could doubled as an eating surface. Starsky was sitting across from him fiddling with the fringes of a place mat.
“Thanks,” Hutch said.
Starsky looked up startled, “For what?”
“Coming out.”
Starsky waved away his thanks, “I have been looking forward to this day for a long time.”
“But its’ not easy is it?”
“What?”
“This…talking, it’s almost like we have to get to know each other again.” Hutch said as he reached across the counter and touched Starsky’s hand. “Starsky, I’m not going to break, I have come a long way in the last three months. I’m going to be alright, I promise you.”
“God, Hutch, I had never been so scared in all my life when I walked into the bathroom and…and…”
“I’m sorry about that buddy; I guess that was my only regret then. I knew that you would be the one that found me.” Hutch’s eyes filled with sympathy for his friend, “This is all been hard on you too. Maybe you should talk to Sam sometime.”
Starsky shrugged then reached in his pocket and pulled out something, laying it on the counter. It was Hutch’s pocket watch. He had torn up the letter Hutch had written him with out even reading what was written. He had also trashed the letter to Hutch’s parents.
Hutch looked at the watch then at Starsky; he smiled then slid it back to him. “I want you to hang on to it, okay?”
Starsky looked at him suspiciously, “No, it’s yours, you hang on it.”
Hutch suddenly laughed, he knew what Starsky was thinking. “I have no suicidal thoughts anymore pal, don’t worry.” He picked up the watch and put it into his pocket. “Feel better?”
“Much,” Starsky smiled at his friend.

Still, they ate their dinner in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Hutch’s thoughts went back to the day he came to the beach house with Sam. He had been so weak he thought Sam was going to have to carry him inside. At that point all he still wanted to do was die, when Starsky had come into his hospital room and told him that Sam wanted him to go away to the beach for awhile, it hadn’t matter.
He could still remember Starsky’s sad face as the got into the car at the hospital and sped off with Sam at the wheel. When he was settled at the beach house he notice there was no phone, TV, not even a radio, but after prowling around he found all those things were in a locked study. All the doors in the house were locked with a key; he could not get out unless Sam let him out. There were no knives of any kind, or for that matter, any sharp objects that weren’t kept under lock and key. The bathroom doors had been removed from the hinges, the medicine cabinets were bare, not even so much as an aspirin lurked there.
“Hutch?”
Hutch’s head jerked up and looked at Starsky, “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“I was asking you when you were coming back to work.”
The blond put his fork down; he took a deep breath, he knew all evening that this question was coming. “Starsk,” Hutch began, he looked down at his plate, “I don’t think I’m coming back.”
Starsky sat stunned as he stared at his partner, “You aren’t coming back?”
Hutch shook his head, “I think I’m going to stay here for a while longer. Sam said I’m good, cured if you will. But I like it here and his friend won’t be back for another couple of months. Sam is going back to Los Angeles this weekend. You should go see him.”
“Then what are you going to do?” Starsky could barely put two words together.
“I really don’t know yet, I was going to take these couple of months and try and figure it out.”
Starsky wanted to scream, “What about me?” But he didn’t, instead he put his fork down and leaned against the counter.
“I know you think I’m abandoning you,” Hutch said, he knew his friend all too well. “But I have to do this-for me…you know?”
“Sure, sure, I understand.” Starsky mumbled, not understanding at all.
“This doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, Starsk, it just means I don’t think I want to be a cop anymore.”
How could he argue with that after what Hutch had been through? Starsky smiled at Hutch, “Yeah, we can still be friends.” He knew it would never been the same. They would drift apart until perhaps they had an occasional dinner once a month probably less.
The two men hugged as Starsky readied to leave, “Take it easy on your way home pal, I know how you are in the tomato.”
“You take it easy too. Call me if you want to talk.” Starsky walked out to his car then turned to wave.
Hutch waved back and stood in the doorway until he could no longer see the tail lights of the Torino. He closed the door and leaned against it. Sam had told him it would be hard, but he did it.


~EPILOGUE~


Hutch pushed open the squad room doors; it had been eighteen months since he had been in this room. Nothing had changed, not the stained coffee pot, cracked mugs, beat up furniture or his partner, who at this moment, had his feet propped up on his desk digging in a grease stained bag that Hutch knew contained donuts.
He walked over and stood behind Starsky, all eyes were on the two men, you could hear a pin drop. “Get your feet off my desk.”
Starsky allowed the chair, which he had been balancing on two legs, to drop to the floor. He jumped up, tossing the bag onto his desk and spun around. “Hutch?”
“Hey partner!” Hutch grinned at him.
“W-what are you doing here?” Starsky sputtered.
“Well, Dobey called said he was having one hell of a time getting anybody to stay partnered up with you.” Hutch said sitting on the edge of the desk. He picked up the bag, glanced in and grimaced. “Crap, your eating habits sure haven’t changed have they?”
“You talked to Dobey?”
“Yep, in fact, I saw him the other day, looks like he’s lost a few pounds.” Hutch said trying to suppress a grin.
As if on cue, Dobey’s office door opened, he poked his head out, “Starsky, Hutchinson, in my office.”
Starsky stared at Hutch, “You are back?”
“Hey, you don’t want to keep Dobey waiting, you know how he gets.” Hutch said as he went toward the office door. “And I expect you to pick me up on time in the morning and you have got to stop eating that crap, it’s going to rot your insides.” Hutch was still spouting Starsky’s faults as he disappeared into their captain’s office.
Starsky grinned as he followed Hutch into Dobey’s office. “He’s back.”



​THE END