For a moment Starsky couldn’t move. He just continued to stare at the note and then at the chess piece. His world was spinning. Even when he felt Hutch gently take the note from his hand he remained frozen.
Hutch read the note and then looked back at his partner. Starsky looked as if he was going to pass out.
“Starsky.” No response. “Starsky!”
“Hutch, he…he was..was… in your apartment. He…he…”
“Hey, come on. Dobey’s office.”
Hutch gently lead his partner to their captain’s office.
“Don’t you two ever…” Dobey began before getting a good look at his detectives. “What’s wrong?”
Hutch helped Starsky into a chair and then signaled for Dobey to wait a minute. He went back and retrieved the knight and the note, handing them to Dobey.
Dobey looked at them and then back at his men. For one of the few times in his life he did not know what to say. Finally he asked, “Where did you find these?”
“The package was on Starsky’s desk when we got back from talking with Fernandez and Harrell. The knight is from a chess set in my apartment.”
Dobey looked stunned for a moment. This whole situation was getting worse by the moment and he had no idea how to keep that trend from continuing. For now, he turned his attention to the dark-haired man who sat across from him. Starsky had not spoken or looked up since he had entered the office. Hutch stood behind him with his hands on the other man’s shoulders but Starsky seemed unaware of his presence.
“Starsky,” Dobey waited a moment. “David, I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through but you have to hang in there.”
Starsky looked up at his captain. “I resign.” He pulled away from Hutch and started for the door but Hutch was faster.
“What the hell do you mean by that? You can’t run away from this. That’s not like you! He’ll find you no matter where you go and then…”
“Don’t you think I know that? I’m not leaving so that he won’t find me!” Starsky’s voice shook with anger and frustration. “I’m leaving so that he won’t get you! What do you think that he meant by that little calling card? Huh? I’m not gonna sit around here and wait for him to kill anymore people, kill you, just so he can get at me!”
“It’s me and thee Starsk. Do you think that I can just let you go? What do you think that that will do to me?”
Starsky looked at his partner, his friend. He could plainly see the worry and anxiety on his face.
“Hutch…”
“I don’t want to hear it Starsky. We’ll find a way to stop this. Together. Please, don’t do this. Don’t shut me out.”
Starsky’s shoulders slumped as his resolve faded. He felt helpless, more helpless than he had ever felt before. His world was spiraling out of his control. Even when Bellamy had poisoned him he had still felt that he had some control, some way to fight back. Now he simply did not know what to do. It was as if Brassard held all of the cards in a game that Starsky did not feel he could win.
“I’m afraid.”
Hutch knew what this admission had cost Starsky and all he could think to do was to pull his friend into a hug and hold him tight. “Me too,” he said. “Me too. But it’s not so bad as long as you’re here.”
Starsky leaned into the hug for a moment, wiping a hand across his eyes to clear them. When Hutch let go Starsky turned to Dobey.
“Cap…”
“Get out of here and find the bastard.”
Starsky’s mouth dropped open. He had never heard Dobey use that kind of language.
“And close your mouth along with the door on your way out.”
The startled detectives quietly closed the door behind them.
“Starsk, let me see the box.”
Hutch looked the box over. There’s no postage or UPS code so it didn’t get here by either of those means.
“Hey,” Hutch said to whoever was in the squad room, “did anybody see who delivered this?”
“Some kid brought it up. He said that he was told Starsky was expecting it.”
“Did you notice what currier service he was from?”
The officer shook his head.
“What did he look like?”
“Come on, Hutchison, who pays attention?”
“You’re a cop, you’re suppose to pay attention!”
It was Starsky’s turn to play piece maker. “Joe, you’ll have to excuse my partner. He’s a bit edgy today.” Starsky shot Hutch a grin at being able to repeat the words Hutch had used earlier to describe him.
“I see that. Listen, he was just a kid, around eighteen. He was wearing a baseball hat. Wasn’t even a Dodgers hat! It was a Cubs hat. Who roots for them?”
Starsky turned to his partner. “Well, it’s a start.”
“Hello, my name is Detective Ken Hutchinson and this is my partner Detective David Starsky. We’re trying to track down a delivery person who dropped a package off at Metro division earlier today.” This was the seventh delivery service they had tried already.
The woman on the other side of the counter continued to chomp on her gum as she answered, “Yeah, so what do you want from me?”
Starsky flashed her his best smile. “Well Miss…”
“Roberts.”
“Miss Roberts. We are trying to find the service that delivered the package. The boy who delivered it was about eighteen and wore a Cubs baseball hat.”
“What did he do?” she asked suspiciously.
“Nothing.” Starsky leaned forward and laid a hand on the woman’s arm. “We want to ask him some questions about the person who had him deliver the package.”
Miss Robertson gave Starsky a yellow-toothed smile. “Was it a bomb?”
Starsky made a show of looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening. It was all Hutch could do to keep from groaning and rolling his eyes.
“No, but the contents are a part of an ongoing investigation. I wish I could say more…”
The woman nodded knowingly. “It was probably Donny Caplin. He’s always wearing that stupid Cubs hat. He moved out here from Chicago a year ago and…”
Starsky leaned even further across the counter. “Miss Roberts…”
“Call me Wanda.”
Starsky smile again. “Wanda, where might we find Donny?”
“He’s finished for the day and I’m not suppose to give out any personal information about employees.”
“It would really help us in our investigation.” Hutch thought that Starsky’s face would break if he smiled anymore broadly.
“Well, I guess it would be alright.” She wrote Donny’s address down on a piece of paper and handed it to Starsky.
“Thank you, Wanda. You’ve been a big help.”
The woman blushed. “Your welcome. Maybe I’ll run into you again sometime and we could have a drink? Detective Hutchinson, wasn’t it.”
“Yes, maybe. And just call me Hutch.” Starsky tried to keep from laughing as he pushed his partner out the door before Hutch could say anything.
“Smooth, Starsky, real smooth.” Hutch said once they were out on the street again. “And if she calls me…”
“Something to look forward to!”
Hutch did groan this time as he climbed into car.
“Police,” Hutch said as he knocked on the apartment door.
It opened a crack and a voice said, “Yeah?”
“We’re looking for Donny Caplin. We’d like to ask him some questions about a package he delivered earlier today.”
“Hey man, I didn’t do anything. I just deliver what I’m told to, that’s all.”
“Your not in any trouble. We just need to talk to you.”
“You got I.D.’s?”
The detectives held them up to the crack.
The door closed again and the sound of a chain being removed could be heard.
“So what do you want to know?”
“Did you deliver a small package to Metro today?” Hutch asked.
“Yeah, didn’t even get a tip.”
“Can you tell us who you picked it up from?”
“Weirdest pick-up I ever had. I get this message to get a package from a place over on East Third. When I get there, there’s nobody around. It’s just an abandoned storefront. But sitting there in front of the grill is this package. It has instructions on where to deliver it and an envelope with enough cash to cover the cost. Really weird.”
“You didn’t see anybody?” Hutch prodded.
“No, like I said, the store was all closed up. So, I just took the package and delivered it. Is that it?”
“Yes, and thank you. If you think of anything else, please give us a call.” Hutch handed him a card.
“So?” Starsky asked as they sat in the car.
“We should check out the place where the kid picked the package up, just to be sure.”
“Yeah,” Starsky agreed. “And then I think we need to go and check your place out.”
The store turned up no clues. It was just as Donny had told them. Brassard had picked a good spot for the drop. The stores on either side were also closed, as well as the one across the street. There would have been no one around to see him drop it off and he could have stayed to watch the boy pick it up without being detected.
That left Hutch’s apartment.
They entered slowly, guns drawn. They didn’t expect to find Brassard there but they were both uneasy. A quick search revealed that the apartment was indeed empty.
Starsky sat on the sofa while Hutch looked around to see if anything else was missing. As far as the blond could tell, everything was as he had left it. Still, he shivered to think that Brassard had been there. Somehow the apartment now felt unclean.
“Want something to drink?” he asked Starsky, trying to shake the feeling that Brassard was somehow still around.
“Yeah, sure.”
The phone rang. Starsky answered it.
“Who is it?” Hutch called from the kitchen. He walked into the living holding two beers. He nearly dropped them when he saw Starsky holding the phone white-knuckled. All of the color had drained from his face and he was staring straight ahead, listening intently.
Hutch ran into the bedroom and picked up the extension. He could guess whose voice he was hearing.
“Ah, that must be Detective Hutchinson on the other phone. I was just asking David if he had received my little gift. Well David, did you?”
“You son of a bitch. What the hell do you want?”
“I thought that would be obvious. You.”
“Then come get me. Screw all of the games. I’m here, right now, so come on.”
“Oh David, I am disappointed. Impatience is a not a desirable trait. As a detective you should know that. No, I am not quite ready to play the proper host and you are certainly not ready to be an accommodating guest.
“Do you remember our last visit? We did have fun, didn’t we? Has he told you about it, Detective Hutchinson? He was really quite an apt pupil but unfortunately we did not have the time to properly finish the last lesson. You interrupted us a bit prematurely. But I am certain that we can rectify that issue before I meet with David again.”
“You’ll never get another opportunity,” Hutch said, his voice low and dangerous.
Brassard chuckled at this. “You truly are amusing, Detective Hutchinson. You are almost as worthy of my attentions as David is. Perhaps we can get together before David arrives.”
“Leave him outta this. It’s me you want. Just name the time.” Hutch did not miss the note of panic in his partner’s voice.
Brassard ignored Starsky’s outburst. “I have so many things planned for us, David. I’ve modified some of the games we played last time and I believe that you will find them even more enthralling. I will take to you levels of awareness you did not dream possible. Of course, you will unfortunately no longer be available to share what you have learned. However, that is but a small price to pay in the achievement of my ultimate goal.”
“I swear, Brassard, you’ll never get the chance to touch him again. We’ll find you…”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk Detective Hutchinson. Such idle words. David knows that I will have what I want. You understand, David. Your partner, for all his good intentions, does not fully comprehend my capabilities, but you do. You knew as soon as you saw me. I was really quite flattered, actually.
“Well I do so hate to cut this conversation short but I still have some final arrangements to make. Until we meet again.” The line went dead.
Hutch hung the receiver up and walked slowly back out into the living room. He sat down on the sofa next to Starsky, neither saying anything. The ringing of the phone broke the silence.
“What the fuck do you want!?” Starsky yelled into the receiver.
“Starsk, it’s me, Huggy. You better get down here right away.”
Hutch was out of the Torino before it stopped. He burst through the back door of Huggy’s, Starsky not far behind. The bar was crowded and at first they didn’t see Huggy. Then they spotted him near the stairs that lead to the second floor.
“What’s up?” Hutch asked.
“Upstairs.” Without waiting, Huggy lead the two men to the room at the top of the stairs.
Hutch entered first and immediately turned to try and push Starsky back before he could take in the scene before them. But it was too late. Starsky stood in the doorway staring in mute horror at what lay before him.
The room had been splattered with what looked like very real blood. It was everywhere. On the walls, the sparse furnishings, nothing had been left untouched. In the middle of room, dangling down from the light fixture was a body. Hutch’s body. It had been badly mutilated and, as with the room, it was covered in blood.
“It ain’t real,” Huggy said quietly. “Made out of some kind of rubber. I don’t know about the blood.”
A part of Starsky’s mind knew that it wasn’t Hutch. Hutch was standing next to him. But his overloaded senses would not, could not listen. The events of the last two days, and those that took place months before, came crashing down on him. He felt his vision start to fade as his overloaded senses could take no more. Without a sound he collapsed.
For a moment Hutch had trouble taking in everything that he saw. He felt sick and more than a bit scared. He had started to step further into the room when he heard a dull thud behind him. He turned and saw his partner sprawled out on the floor.
“Starsky!” Hutch yelled as he knelt down next to the still form. He checked for a pulse and let out the breath he had been holding when he found it to be strong.
“Huggy, help me get him to the other room.”
The two men carried the unconscious man into an adjoining room and laid him gently on the bed. Huggy left briefly and returned with some cool water and a cloth.
“Thanks. Listen, do you mind calling this in? Call Dobey directly and let him know what’s happening.”
“Sure Hutch. No problem.”
Hutch sat on the edge of the bed next to his partner. He gently wiped the cool cloth over his face and spoke quietly to him. In a few minutes, Starsky began to stir.
“Hey, take it easy for a minute. Just lie still.”
Starsky was disoriented. He tried to remember where he was. “What happened?”
“You passed out pal.”
“Passes out? Why…” Then the memories came flooding back. “Oh God, I remember. Please Hutch, it wasn’t real, was it?”
“Shhh, no, it was made out of rubber.”
“The blood?”
Hutch shook his head. “The lab boys should be here anytime now. We’ll know more then.”
“I’m sorry, Hutch. I feel like a fool, passin’ out like some school girl.” Starsky turned his head away from his partner, too ashamed to look him in the eye.
“Stop with the sorries, Gordo. You’ve held up a heck of a lot better than I would have. Don’t know how you do it.”
“Nice try Hutch.”
“Starsky, I mean it. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. A lot of stuff has gone down in the last couple of days. And I know you, you’re feeling guilty and keeping it all in where it’s eating at you. You’re not the Lone Ranger, you know.”
“Yeah, you’re too blond to be Tonto,” Starsky said, trying to shift the conversation.
“Will you be O.K. for a minute while I go and check to see what’s going on?”
“I’ll be fine. Go ahead.” Hutch gave Starsky’s shoulder a gentle pat before rising.
Starsky watched as his partner left. What Hutch said was true, he was feeling responsible for what was happening, at least partially. He had no doubt that Brassard would kill whether he was the focus or not, but this game of cat and mouse and the fear that he was raining down of the people close to Starsky would not be going on. Quietly, he made up his mind.
Hutch walked back into the room to find that the lab crew had arrived. They were busy taking pictures and samples from the room. In the corner stood Dobey, personally overseeing the procedures.
“How’s Starsky,” Dobey asked when Hutch walked over to him.
“He’s O.K. Just a bit shaken.”
Dobey nodded.
Hutch turned his attention to the site before him. The effigy of him still hung from the ceiling. He noted with some disgust that the thing was wearing a shirt that Starsky had bought him for Christmas a couple of years earlier. It was now torn in places and of course covered in blood. The pants were also his. Hutch approached it slowly. Brassard had obviously taken great pains to make it authentic, right down to an old wristwatch of his. Hutch shuddered at just how realistic it was.
Huggy walked up beside him. “This is one sick dude.”
“When did this happen, Huggy?”
The dark man shrugged. “Don’t know. It was fine this morning then, just before I called you I thought I heard something fall. When I came up here to check it out this is how I found it.”
“I’m sorry that you were dragged into this, Hug.”
Huggy shook his head. “Hey man, it isn’t your fault. This guy is really doing a number of Starsky, though.”
“Yeah, and I’m not sure how much more he can take. You know Starsk. He’s blaming himself.”
“So what are you two gonna do?”
Hutch sighed. “I don’t know. Every lead we turn up is a dead end. Brassard covers all his tracks well.”
Hutch ran a hand across his face. Huggy noted how worn out he looked. “I don’t know how to protect him, Hug. He’s scared and to be honest, so am I.”
Huggy placed an arm around Hutch’s shoulders. “You know you have whatever help I can give.”
“Thanks, I know.”
“I’ve got my ears out now. There has to be someone on the streets who has seen this dude. I mean, the guy ain’t invisible.”
“Starsky thinks that he’s the embodiment of evil and I’m beginning to believe him. I must be getting tired.”
“Why don’t you two come downstairs and get something to eat? The place is packed and there’s not much chance that’ll he show up down there with that many people around.” It wasn’t much but it was all Huggy could think to offer.
“That’s not a bad idea. Let me go get Starsky and we’ll be down in a couple of minutes.”
Hutch let Dobey know of his plans and then went to get Starsky.
The room was empty.
Starsky waited until Hutch had left then he headed downstairs. He knew that Hutch would be angry but better that than dead. He now had no doubts that Brassard would kill Hutch to get at him. And that was something that he was not prepared to let happen.
He got into his car and quickly pulled away from The Pits. As he drove he tried to push down the feeling of dread that had been enveloping him since he learned of Brassard’s return. He took some satisfaction in the fact that at least now he was doing something, taking some control of the situation.
As he drove through the darkened streets he watched as people came and went from the shops and bars along the way. Was Brassard there, watching?
“Stop it,” he said out loud to himself. Hutch was right, Brassard was a man, psychotic to be sure, but just a man, not some evil being out of an old woman’s stories. Get a grip, he thought.
He pulled the Torino to a halt in front of his apartment. He needed to get some things before he left. He silently prayed that Brassard would not expect him to return here tonight. Still, he drew his gun as he made his way to the door.
The apartment was dark. Starsky reached his hand in to flip a switch, flooding the room with light. Then, slowly and methodically he checked the entire apartment, turning every light on as he went. It was clean. He sighed and holstered his gun. ‘You’re worse than a kid looking for monsters under the bed,’ he thought.
He grabbed a bag and threw some clothes in it. Next he went into the bathroom and grabbed his toiletries, tossing them in as well.
He paused when a picture that sat on the bookcase caught his eye. He picked it up, fingering the frame. It was a picture taken of Hutch and him at a field day last summer to help the kids of the neighborhood. He touched the glass, remembering how much fun that day had been. He was lost for a moment in the past when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
Starsky turned, gun in hand. The room was empty. He chuckled mirthlessly to himself. ‘Your not going to have to worry about Brassard, your just gonna scare yourself to death’. He put the picture in his bag and took one more look around.
He thought about writing a note to Hutch but decided against it. The longer he stayed the more risk Hutch would be in. He went around turning off the lights he had turned on. Closing the door, he checked the lock and then walked back to his car, tossing the bag across the seat as he climbed behind the wheel. He never got the chance to start the engine.
Hutch raced to where to Dobey stood. “Have you seen Starsky?” Hutch asked, the anxiety clearly audible.
“No. I thought that he was still lying down.”
“He was but he’s not there now.” Hutch didn’t stop to here Dobey’s response. Racing down the stairs he took a quick look around the bar, not expecting to find Starsky but hoping against hope to be wrong.
“Shit,” he said loudly enough to make a few heads turn.
He ran out into the alley. A uniform was posted at the door. “Hey Hutch, you looking for Starsky?”
“Yeah, have you seen him?”
“He left about twenty minutes ago. Seemed to be in a rush.”
“Tell Dobey!” Hutch yelled as he climbed into one of the parked squad cars.
Hutch flipped the siren and lights on as he raced through the streets. He had a pretty good idea where Starsky had headed and he needed to get there before his partner did something stupid. ‘How could I have been such an idiot’, he berated himself. He should have anticipated that Starsky would do something like this. ‘I never should have left him alone!’
As he pulled up to Starsky’s place, he saw the Torino parked in front. A small glimmer of hope started to form as he took the stairs two at a time. When he reached the door that hope faded. He pulled out his gun and pushed on the already partially opened door.
The apartment was dark. Just as Starsky had done, Hutch reached in to turn a light on. Laying in clear view of the door was a knife stuck into the floor, impaling a piece of paper. The simple message read, ‘You’re too late’.
Hutch fell to his knees, grief overcoming him. He was struck by a feeling of déjà vu. It was just like before, only this time he knew what he was up against and it left him feeling cold and hopeless.
‘Move’ a voice in his head screamed. Hutch climbed to his feet, forcing himself to calm down. He wouldn’t do Starsky any good by losing it now. He did a quick search of the apartment, which turned up nothing. He was about to call Dobey when he heard the approach of sirens.
As Dobey pulled up he saw Hutch coming out of Starsky’s apartment. He didn’t need to ask if Starsky was there. The look on the man’s face told him all he needed to know. He reached back into the car and pulled the mike out.
“I want an APB put on Detective David Starsky. He was last seen at a bar called The Pits. He is most likely being held hostage by Alfred Brassard.” Dobey replaced the mike and then turned back to his detective.
“Hutch, he hasn’t been missing that long. There’s still time.”
“Time? Yeah, sure. We’ve been looking for Brassard for two days and haven’t turned up anything useful. Now he’s got Starsky and has probably gone to ground. How can we hope to find him while there’s still time? You got a fucking crystal ball that I don’t know about?!”
“Get a hold of yourself!” Dobey yelled back. “I’m not the enemy here! We’ll find him!”
Hutch looked at his captain. The man was as frustrated as he was. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know where to start. He’s been ahead of us each step of the way.”
Dobey took a deep breath. “I’ll have some uniforms start with the neighbors. It’s not that late yet. Maybe someone saw something.”
Hutch nodded. “I’m going to take a look at his car.” Hutch walked over to Torino and opened the driver’s side door. He saw Starsky’s overnight bag on the front seat. He slid in, pulling the bag to him. He looked inside. On top lay a picture of the two of them. Hutch ran a hand over the glass, a sob catching in his throat. He pushed the emotion down. Now was not the time. He dug through the rest of the items, finding nothing other that some clothes and some personal care items. Without wanting to, he found himself holding the picture again. ‘Were you sitting right here when he found you, Starsk? I wish I had been here for you, Gordo. Why’d you have to go it alone?’ This time he gave in, the tears flowing freely.
“You look terrible, my man.” Huggy said as Hutch wearily sat down on a stool.
Hutch ignored the comment. “It’s been three days Huggy. And nothing. It’s as if the guy never existed.”
“I know. I’ve been checking with everyone I know but nothings turned yet.”
“I wonder if he’s even…”
“No, Hutch. Don’t even go there. You start thinkin’ that way your not coming back. Listen, when was the last time you slept?”
“A couple of hours last night. I can’t sleep. Every time I do all I can see is Starsky in that cabin, hanging there.”
“You’ve got to get some rest Hutch. Hey, at least let me fix you something to eat.”
Hutch nodded wearily. Three days. What kind of hell must Starsky be going through? The pictures of Brassard’s handiwork kept flashing through his head. He was all too aware of what must be going on. Resting his head on his arms, he closed his eyes and silently willed his partner to hang in there until he could find him.
Huggy came back with a plate a food and found that Hutch had nodded off. He didn’t expect him to stay asleep long but any little bit was better than none. He brought the plate back into the kitchen and went to make a few more calls.
Two more days passed without any news. By this point Dobey had had to ban Hutch from the building until he had gone home, showered and slept a bit. Dobey hated doing it but Hutch had become not much more than a walking zombie. Dark circles rimmed his eyes and he was started to look sallow and not all together well.
Dobey sighed. He had personally been going through any and all reports from the men working on the case but none of them revealed anything new. Even with all of the men at his disposal out looking for Starsky he was beginning to believe that time had run out. Five days with a madman like Brassard might as well have been an eternity.
Although he would not admit it to anyone, he was very found of Starsky. The thought of what the young man had gone through, he quickly corrected himself, was going through was enough to make him sick.
And then there was Hutch, the other half of the dynamic duo. Dobey was as worried about him as he was about Starsky. He knew that the blond would not stop searching for his partner. He would literally work himself to death before he gave up. And Dobey did not even want to think of would happen should they discover that Starsky didn’t make it.
He wiped his brow with a handkerchief and picked up the latest report.
Hutch took off his jacket and tossed it into the chair. He didn’t feel right about being here when Starsky was still missing but he grudgingly had to admit that Dobey was right. If he didn’t get a little sleep soon he was going to pass out. He was barely able to make the drive home without nodding off at the wheel.
He undressed and then stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over him. He leaned against the wall, the water easing the tension in his body. Slowly he found himself relaxing a bit, despite the guilt he felt about it. He could no longer think clearly, the need for sleep taking over. He turned the water off and quickly dried off. Putting on a pair of pajama bottoms, he laid down on his bed.
He thought about Starsky and how he had looked the last time that he had seen him. Hutch had never seen him look so lost. Brassard had managed to work him over without ever laying a hand on him. Hutch’s last coherent thought before he drifted off to sleep was that maybe that was what Brassard had planned all along.
While Hutch slept, Dobey continued to read through reports. He was just about to toss another one on the pile when something caught his eye. One of the rookies, trying to be a thorough as possible, had jotted down some off hand comments made by one of Starsky’s neighbors. The woman, a Mrs. Hallauer, had been interviewed the day after Starsky had disappeared. She stated that she had not been home the previous night, it was her bridge club evening and she was at the home of a friend. She said that normally she would be out walking her dog at that time but on bridge night she didn’t get out until much later. Mrs. Hallauer went on to comment that it was certainly a shame about Detective Starsky. He was such a nice young man. Always helping her out when she had a problem. In fact she had planned to speak with him that very day about something that had happened while she was out walking her dog two nights ago.
Apparently her dog was doing his ‘business’ when she noticed a white van pull out from the side yard of a house that was for sale on the block. She normally wouldn’t have thought much about it except that she had just heard on the news about burglary rings and how they ‘cased’ the neighborhoods before choosing homes to rob. She had walked over to investigate the area where the van had been parked but it was too dark for her to tell for sure if anything had been disturbed. She wanted to alert Detective Starsky so that he could keep an eye out, just in case it was one of those burglary rings.
Dobey put the report down. It was a long shot but at this point they needed to follow every lead. He picked up his phone and had a unit dispatched to check it out.
Brassard stared down at the unconscious figure on the floor. He noted with pleasure the somewhat haggard appearance of the man he studied. Even in his drugged state, David twitched and moaned occasionally, causing Brassard to speculate on what was disturbing the man’s subconscious thoughts. He smiled as several ideas came to mind.
Everything had gone splendidly. Brassard’s excitement was almost palpable as he let his thoughts wander to the activities he had planned. The time was nearing, the culmination of his life’s work was now within his grasp. He nudged David with his foot, eliciting another soft groan. He bent down, absently running his hand through the tangle of curls.
“David, we are together again. My patience has been rewarded. Can you hear me? I have been waiting so long for this opportunity.” He looked around at his surroundings. “I have everything prepared and waiting.
“Did you know,” he continued, “that David means ‘beloved’? I find that very appropriate! Oh, not is the sense of a lover, but you are my beloved, the one I have longed for. Can you sense it even in sleep?”
Brassard watched with some anticipation as David stirred and mumbled something. Soon, he thought, soon.
Starsky felt himself drifting. It was as if he was deep underwater, being dragged down even as he struggled for the surface. He forced himself upward, awareness slowly returning. At first he was only conscious of the pounding, an incredible ache in his head. It blotted out everything else. Giving into it for a moment, he let him self sink again. Then, from faraway, he heard a voice, felt a hand gently touching his hair. Hutch, he thought as he fought back the darkness.
His eyelids fluttered as he slowly became more alert. He tried to force them open, to focus on the person near him. The light hurt and he closed them again. He waited, gaining strength, and then tried once more. This time he was able to keep his eyes opened. Slowly his vision cleared.
At first he was confused. He thought that he was still at Huggy’s. He had passed out, hadn’t he? Then his eyes fell upon the form that was leaning over him, stroking his hair. If he had been able to scream he would have.
As David’s eyes focused, Brassard saw first confusion and then fear. It was a fear that came from the depths of the soul. Brassard almost cried out with yearning. He was so very close!
With an effort, Brassard brought himself under control. He needed to remain focused on what lay ahead.
“I see that you remember me,” his voice showing no hint of the excitement he felt.
Starsky tried to yell, to strike out, but his body would not respond. His hand fluttered uselessly at his side.
“Oh, do not worry, David, that is merely the aftereffects of the drug. I couldn’t have you hurting yourself too soon! It will wear off shortly.
“I have so much planned and many things to tell you. I have been waiting for this moment since our last encounter. Do you remember? Ah, I am sure that you do. But unlike then I doubt that we will be disturbed. I have taken great pains to ensure that.”
“Hutch…” Starsky struggled to speak.
“Shhh, David. There is no need to concern yourself with Detective Hutchinson. He will not be bothering us.”
Panic overtook Starsky as he tried to understand the meaning of what Brassard had just said. His head throbbed and he was having difficulty concentrating. As he drifted off, he heard Brassard’s voice:
“Yes, rest David, soon you will understand.”
“David, it is time for us to begin. You must wake up now.”
Starsky heard a voice calling to him but chose to ignore it. The blackness seemed safer. He started to return to its embrace when he was suddenly jarred back to reality by a blow that sent his head reeling.
He opened his eyes, wishing immediately that he hadn’t. He found himself secured to a chair, his legs and arms tightly fastened with straps. He was shirtless, tiny electrodes attached to various parts of his chest. He groaned inwardly realizing what was to come.
“Welcome back,” Brassard said as he moved off towards a nearby table. Starsky looked over to it but couldn’t quite make out the items that lay on top of it. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know.
While Brassard busied himself at the table, he spoke to the man behind him. “Our time has finally arrived, David. I have been searching for you a very long time. Even before our first meeting, I knew that you were out there, I merely needed the perseverance to wait until our paths crossed. But I was confident that I would find you. And all of the others who came before you taught me something, each in his or her own way. Now I will be able to use that accumulated knowledge to finish my life’s work.”
Starsky remained silent, still trying to absorb what was happening. Brassard continued, his back still to the man in the chair.
“You see, David. This quest that I have been on started when I was quite young. Actually it began with my father, who taught me much but did not have the fortitude to see the path to its conclusion. Oh, he did try, but he was,” Brassard paused for a moment, “limited. But his life was not wasted. Nor was my mother’s. While they could not hope to find the way, they both ‘offered’ themselves so that I might.
“Oh, to be sure, I was still floundering at that time with how to succeed. And then I was detained for several years, unable to properly pursue my work. But the time was not wasted. The tormented souls around me revealed insights that I would not have found if I had been free. You see, I believe that no opportunity should be wasted. Everything that we experience in our lives can be an opportunity to learn, one just needs to look at them properly.”
Brassard turned from the table and walked back over to where Starsky sat. He stood there silently for a moment, studying the detective. Starsky returned the stare, trying for an air of confidence that he did not feel.
“Screw you!”
A shadow crossed Brassard’s eyes. Starsky thought for a moment that he saw a hint of annoyance but it was gone before he could be sure.
“I see that you are not quite open to the lessons I have for you. No matter, that will change.”
Brassard flipped a switch.
Starsky’s body jerked, straining against the straps. The charge lasted only a few seconds but it might as well have been hours. As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. But Starsky did not have a chance to recover as another shock was sent through his body. This time a scream tore from his throat as he violently pushed against the restraints. A third shock caused him to lose control of his bladder and pushed him to the edge of unconsciousness. Even after the shock ended his body continued to spasm, his muscles contracting painfully.
Brassard watched the man in front of him. David’s head hung limply down on his chest, his breaths came in ragged gasps. Blood ran from his mouth where he had bitten his tongue and he had also soiled himself. Brassard felt a slight twinge of regret. He had not intended to push David to this point yet. Not that it had been unenjoyable, no; it was simply that David was not ready. But Brassard had let his anger flare, something he rarely did. He would have to be more careful. If he allowed this man to have control over him, to play to his baser emotions, then success might be jeopardized.
Leaning over, Brassard yanked Starsky’s head back. He watched as the detective tried to focus on him.
“Was the display of defiance worth it, David? You of all people should know that I will not be deterred from my goal. Your resistance will only mean that the lessons will take longer. Not that I find that prospect totally unappealing, but you might.
“Are you still harboring some hope that you will somehow escape? It would be best if you accepted your existence as it is now. You are mine and will remain mine until I am finished. Your life now has a higher purpose, one far more important than you can imagine. Let me show you, allow me to guide you, it will be far better that way. It will be difficult but ultimately well worth it. Do not resist me, for I will win regardless.”
Starsky fought to remain awake. He was vaguely aware that he was wet, but his mind could not grasp why, the pain overwhelmed everything. He felt a hand grasp his hair and pull his head back. Through slitted eyes he could see Brassard leaning over him. He tried to concentrate on what he was saying but he was fading.
His mind turned towards the only hope he had left. Hutch. He tried to remember something Brassard had said earlier but everything was fuzzy. He felt sick. Brassard was still talking but he didn’t care. Hutch would find him. As he clung to that thought, a slight smile played across his lips.
Brassard watched incredulously as the man before him smiled slightly. He quickly checked the rage he felt, calming before he spoke again.
“I’m sorry you feel that way David. This may take a little longer than I anticipated.”
With that he quickly and forcefully slammed the palms of his hands against Starsky’s ears.
Starsky no longer knew how long he had been there. Time was now measured by periods of blackness interspersed with times where all he knew was pain. He lay chained to the floor, unable to move more than a couple of feet. He was having trouble breathing and he was sure that a least a couple of his ribs had been broken. He tried to shift to ease the pressure but even that slight movement caused him to gasp.
Where was Hutch? He was beginning to fear that Brassard might have gotten to him. He tried to think. Hutch had been at Huggy’s with him, hadn’t he? In his confusion his mind recalled the scene of Hutch hanging, bloodied, dead. That hadn’t been real, he screamed silently. But he wasn’t sure anymore. If Hutch was alive, wouldn’t he have found him by now?
From somewhere he heard footsteps. He tried to curl up, to move away, but the chain would not allow it. He felt hands on his wrists, the shackles falling away as he was lifted and dragged back to the chair. He didn’t even have enough energy to struggle.
He was aware of the straps being secured, of a hand lifting his head.
“David?” His voice.
Starsky forced his eyes open. He knew by now that it would be worse if he didn’t respond.
Brassard smiled. Yes, things were now moving along nicely now.
“Have you been wondering, David, why you are here? Why I chose you? Perhaps it will easier for you if you know my motivations.” Brassard did not wait for a response.
“You see, as I told you earlier, you are part of my life’s work. Immortality. Ah, a lofty goal but not an unattainable one. Merely one that has taken time. But the time I have spent searching is small in comparison to the reward!
“My father understood but a small part of it. He started teaching me as soon as I could walk. At first just small things, rabbits we caught, the occasional cat or dog that wandered onto the farm. Killing became easy. I learned that if I watched closely, I could ‘see’ them at the moment they realized that the end was upon them. But animals do not possess the fear of death that people do. They accept it.
“As I grew older, I experimented on larger beasts. We had cows. Stupid creatures really. But each death added to my understanding.”
“My father watched, pleased with my progress. But I soon came to realize that he really knew nothing at all. His motivations for killing were base, unrefined. He thought that death alone was reason enough for killing. And poor mother, she was locked in a world of her own, merely a shell, a tool which allowed my father to be free to pursue his work.” He paused, lost for a moment in some distant memory.
“But I knew, or at least sensed that death alone meant nothing. It was simply a passage to another plane. What lay there I did not know, but surely there were secrets that could be learned.
“I began to read books on Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, all the major religions as well as many obscure ones. Oh, their talk of gods was of no interest to me. Mere stories made up to placate and keep the masses under control. But most agreed that there was existence after the mortal death. That we do not cease to exist when the body gives out.
“Did you know, David, that there is speculation that some ancient Druids believed in a kind of universal Life Force, flowing to and from all living things? What power would one possess if they were able to tap into that?”
Starsky listened with growing horror as Brassard continued.
“I tried to discuss this with my father but he was a simple man, not taken with great thoughts. I knew that I would have to advance my studies on my own. And what greater respect could I pay to him than to allow him to be the first step towards my awareness?
“The soul. It is a word that I am sure you are familiar with but it does not really explain anything. It denotes an individual’s essence, but it is lacking. It does not encompass the whole of what is beyond. Its usage merely allows man to see his singular passage, as an individual. Man has fought so hard to deny the totality of all that is. But in that totality lies all; knowledge and power beyond what even I can imagine.
“It is that essence which I wish to see, to become a part of. But I do not wish to die, for that would not allow me to impact upon those left behind, to act as a guide of sorts. There are others out there, others like me who seek the truth. I have found no one who has come as close to it as I am, but the fact that they are searching excites me, gives me hope that not all is lost. With the understanding that my success would grant me, I, and others like me, could live as the gods so many people profess to worship. A new age could be shaped.
“And the key to the beginning is capturing a piece of that totality at the moment the individual becomes aware of it. At first I thought by being there when death moved in and escorted the individual to the whole would be enough. I experimented, tried many things before I comprehended that the ‘soul’ had a strong drive to move towards that totality. In order to divert it there would need to be some secondary force to, let’s say, distract it at the moment of its union.
“That’s when I realized that pain and the subsequent fear that accompanies it were the keys. Even as the one strove towards the whole, the fear would pull it back. Fear at the time of death would be generalized, the soul would not only fear the pain but the totality. At that moment it could be diverted, captured if you like, as it made its final step.”
Brassard’s face was now flushed, his fervor evident. Starsky almost wept at the madness before him. How could someone like this exist? He whimpered, his mind refusing to believe what it was hearing.
Brassard heard the sound and ran his hand almost gently across David’s cheek. Starsky felt bile rising at the touch.
“You understand now just how important your death is. And yours, above all others, is the one needed. You recognized me the moment we met. In your ignorance you thought me evil, but now are beginning to see the truth.
“You have flittered with death many times, I could see its touch on you. But beyond that you have also tasted the wholeness of what is beyond. At first I thought that I was mistaken, you are not like me and my kind, how could you know? But the other, your ‘white knight’, has allowed your essence a glimpse, even if it is on a subconscious level, of what lies beyond. The bond between you two is a oneness of sorts. You are the key to open the door for me, to bring the two together.”
Brassard reached for Starsky’s hand, caressing the fingers. “It is almost time. We are close. Do you feel it?” With a quick movement he snapped the finger, breaking it instantly. Starsky shrieked.
“Yes, you do.”