Chapter 7

Starsky couldn’t remember how long he’d been in the room with Hutch. Hutch was standing with his back against the wall, staring into space. Starsky knew that Hamilton’s statement had triggered Hutch’s memory. Grabbing his partner by his shoulders, he tried frantically to get Hutch’s attention. Shouting one minute and pleading softly the next, he tried valiantly to bring Hutch back to reality.

“Damn it Hutch, talk to me! Don’t do this. Please, God, look at me! Come back to us. Look at me, buddy, please. Hutch! Damn you, don’t you leave me! Come back. That’s it, look at me. No, don’t go away! Open your eyes and look at me. Good, now we’re makin’ it. Now, talk to me. Hutch, damn you, say something! Talk to me!”

Gradually, awareness dawned in Hutch’s eyes. For a moment, he just looked at Starsky. Then, he seemed to realize where he was. The pain showed in his eyes. A pain so great that it made Starsky flinch. He had the urge to look away, because a pain that deep should have been private.

“I remember now. She was pregnant.” He looked at Starsky. “She was pregnant, and, Dear God, it was mine!”

Starsky barely caught him in time to keep him from hitting the floor.

The ambulance screamed into the emergency entrance of the county hospital twenty minutes later. The door slammed open and the stretcher carrying Hutch was rushed into the ER. Leaving Starsky to pace in the waiting room, Dr. Massey was met by Dr. Marshall.

“What are his vitals?”

“BP is 165 over 100, pulse 100, respirations 24, labored and shallow.”

“When did he crash?”

“Twenty minutes ago. We’ve already tried the standard treatments. Nothing works. He’s badly dehydrated on top of everything else. Any suggestions?”

Dr. Marshall named a medication, quietly giving the order to his nurse.

Dr. Massey looked sharply at his colleague. “That’s rather drastic, don’t you think? You know how dangerous that is?”

“If we don’t get his BP down now, he’s going to be a prime candidate for a stroke, or a heart attack. His heart can’t take much more of this.”

“You’re right about that. All right nurse, you heard the doctor. Get that crash cart over here.”

The staff in the ER carried out his orders quietly and efficiently. Seconds later, Dr. Marshall injected the drug and stepped back. The room was quiet except for the beeping of the heart monitor. Then, without warning, Hutch’s body convulsed once, then was still. The eerie sound of the monitor’s flat line filled the cubicle.

“Damn, he’s flat-lined. Get the defibrillator ready, two hundred-watt seconds. Hand me the paddles. Get a lydacaine drip started, stat.”

Holding out the paddles for the nurse to put the lubricating ointment on, he waited for the machine to charge. “Clear,” was all that he said. Putting one paddle one each side of Hutch’s chest, he tried to shock his heart into beating again. He waited for a few more seconds, watching the monitor. Still, the sound of the flat line filled the room. Nodding at the technician manning the machine to recharge it, he held out the paddles again. After the tech moved the dial up a notch to three hundred-watt seconds, he waited for it to charge. When the machine beeped, indicating that it was ready, he shocked Hutch again, then stood back. His heart started beating again, but the pattern was all wrong. Hutch was still in trouble.

“What are his vitals now?”

“His BP is down, 160 over 95, pulse 90 and thready, respirations twenty and still shallow.”

“Well, it’s a slight improvement, but not much. I want Intensive Care alerted that we’re bringing him up. I want vital signs every fifteen minutes. Also, start an IV of Ringers Lactate to fight the dehydration. Nurse, give him ten mg’s Phenobarbital and Dilantin IM. Let’s see if we can stabilize his heart rate a little. I don’t want to risk another episode, so let’s keep him sedated. Kevin, I’m going to talk to Starsky and Captain Dobey. Would you like to join me?”

They found Starsky in the waiting room, pacing back and forth in front of Captain Dobey. Huggy Bear sat across from the Captain, watching Starsky pace.

Starsky met the doctors. “How is he?”

“Let’s sit down. His condition is critical. We can’t get him stabilized. His heart rate and blood pressure are still fluctuating dangerously, and he’s badly dehydrated because he hasn’t been eating. We’re taking him to intensive care where he’ll be monitored carefully. We’ve given him medications for his blood pressure, heart, and for the dehydration. That’s all we can do. The rest is up to him.”

Captain Dobey spoke. “What is his prognosis, Doctor?”

The two doctors exchanged looks, then Dr. Marshall answered him.

“If we can’t get his vital signs stable, it’s not good. We’re hoping that the medications will help, but the one thing we have to do is get that blood pressure down. If we don’t, the strain could damage his heart permanently. The next twelve hours will be crucial. If he doesn’t improve by then, his prognosis could be grim.”

Starsky said, “Can I see him?”

“He’s heavily sedated, David. He won’t know you’re there.”

“I don’t care. Can I see him, please?”

“All right, but just for a few minutes.”

Starsky followed the doctors up to the fourth floor to intensive care. He looked at the monitors surrounding the room, and at all the wires that were attached to his partner. He could see the numbers fluctuating, and stared at them, willing them to go down.

He had no idea how long he had sat there when Dobey came in quietly to stand behind him.

Dobey said softly, “I talked to the DA.”

“Yeah? So, what did he say?”

“It’s no good. Hamilton was right. He said he wouldn’t touch the case with only the word of a two-bit junkie and circumstantial evidence to back him up.”

Starsky sat still for a minute, then rose and slowly turned to face his captain.

“What does he want, a signed confession?”

“Either that, or Christine Phelps’ story. He wants names, dates, and places. He needs facts, not just the word of a flake like Avery.”

“Then, tell him that’s what he’ll get.”

“How? Starsky, you and Hutch have been hunting for that story since Chris was murdered and you haven’t found it yet. What makes you so sure you can find it at all?”

Starsky looked back at Hutch. “We have to.”

He turned and stalked out of the room. When he passed Huggy, he said tersely, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“Hunting.”

“What are we hunting for?”

Starsky’s reply was grim. “Shark.”

Huggy held his tongue until they were outside the hospital. When Starsky didn’t say anything else, he stepped in front of him.

“Starsky, wait a minute! Where are we going?”

“I think it’s time we paid a little visit to the big man himself.”

“Who? Oh, you mean Clairmont. Why? What good is that going to do?”

“Hamilton and Eddie Avery are only puppets. Clairmont’s the one that’s been pulling their strings. He’s the one with all the answers. Maybe if we rattle his cage a little, he’ll make a mistake.”

Starsky pushed his way past the receptionist’s desk and into Clairmont’s office.

The frustrated secretary followed them, apologizing profusely.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Clairmont! I tried to stop them.”

Starsky said, “Excuse me, MISTER Clairmont, please pardon the intrusion. I can imagine how busy you are. I’m sure you have bids to fix, or another murder to plot. Or, was Christine Phelps the only one close enough to the truth?”

To the casual observer, Clairmont didn’t flinch at the mention of Chris’ name. Starsky wasn’t casual, and caught the imperceptible stiffening of Clairmont’s spine.

“It’s all right, Ms. Chambers. I’ll take care of these-gentlemen. You may return to your desk.”

When she left, he sat down behind his desk. “All right, gentlemen, you obviously think you have something important to say. We can at least be civil about this, can’t we? I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

“Forgive me for forgetting my manners. I’m Detective Sergeant Starsky, with the Metropolitan Police. This is an associate of mine. I’m sure Mr. Hamilton has filled you in on what we’ve been doing. I thought it was time we met, face to face. After all, we’ve been traveling in the same circles lately.”

“Oh, have we now? What might those circles be, Sergeant Starsky?”

“Let me put it this way, Mr. Clairmont. We’ve both been hunting the same thing the past few days. We both want Christine Phelps’ story. You know, the one exposing you and your scummy little scheme to rip off the juiciest construction jobs in the state?”

Clairmont laughed. “Really, Sergeant! How perfectly theatrical. What am I supposed to do now? Shall I dissolve into a repentant heap of clay and confess all my sins to you? I think not. I don’t know anyone named Christine Phelps, and this is a perfectly legitimate company. We have done nothing wrong, so naturally, you can’t prove that we have.”

“You call your business legitimate? You’ve been undercutting bids from every small company in this city. How many small businesses have you caused to go bankrupt? Who do you know in the government, Clairmont? Who’s your inside man? You’re a snake, Clairmont, and Chris uncovered all your slimy little secrets. She had it all, didn’t she? She knew every disgusting detail. When she refused to be bought, and couldn’t be terrorized into giving you her story, you had her killed. It was something like swatting a fly, wasn’t it?”

“That’s enough, Sergeant. I have more important things to do than listen to your rantings. Are you leaving, or do I have to call your Commissioner and make a formal complaint?”

“Don’t bother, we’re leaving, but we’ll be back. Next time, we’ll have a warrant, bet on it.”

Starsky turned on his heel and left the office with Huggy in tow. Once they were outside, Huggy decided it was safe to speak.

“Starsky, just what did that accomplish? I thought we were trying to get him to slip up about Chris’ story? He wouldn’t even admit he knew Chris! So, what good did that do?”

“We went there to rattle him, Hug. If he thinks we’re getting close to finding Chris’ story, maybe he’ll try harder to find it first. I know it’s not much of a plan, but it’s about all that I can think of to try. I’m out of ideas on where to look next.”

“Starsk, I hate to bring this up, but what if Clairmont already has the thing? What if he’s just covering his tracks by pretending not to have it?”

“I don’t think so, Hug. If he had the story, he’d find a way to take care of Avery, and no one’s even made a move toward him. After all, Eddie’s the only one besides Hamilton that can put the finger on Clairmont. If he had the story, Avery and Hutch would both be dead. Right now, he can’t afford to kill Hutch, because he’s not sure how much Chris told him. No, Huggy, we

might not have Chris’ article, but neither does Clairmont. I only hope we made Clairmont jittery enough to make a mistake.”

“So what do we do now? Sit back and wait for him to make a move?”

As they got back to their car, Starsky shook his head. He honestly didn’t know what their next move was going to be. Frustrated, he pounded the steering wheel with his fist.

“Damn it, Hug, that file has to be SOMEWHERE! She didn’t leave it in her apartment, and it wasn’t at the hotel or the airport. It’s got to be around here, somewhere!”

“Starsky, this might be a little off the wall, but what if she mailed it; like to herself or to Hutch?”

“I thought of that. I’ve been checking every day since she was murdered, but it hasn’t shown up yet. Look, I’m beat and I know you are, too. Why don’t we take a break and get something to eat? Maybe we’ll have a brainstorm, or something.”

“I think I’m about out of brainstorms, Starsk, but I could go for something to eat. It would be nice if we didn’t have to think about that story for a while.”

Back at the hospital, things weren’t going much better. Dr. Marshall wasn’t encouraged by what he had seen on the monitors in Hutch’s room. After stabilizing briefly, his blood pressure had dropped alarmingly. Now, it was dangerously low. As he checked Hutch’s chart, he shook his head. His breathing was still shallow, and his heart rate was too low. It was almost as if his body was shutting itself down.

Dr. Massey came in and quietly stood beside his colleague. “How is he, Kevin?”

“He’s not doing well, Stewart. He’s gone from one extreme to the other. If we can’t get his vital signs up, and soon, we could lose him. I’ve been trying a series of medications, but they’re not working. Has Starsky checked in yet?”

“No. Maybe we’d better call him.”

Starsky sat quietly as he listened to the doctors, then stood up slowly. He tried to hold his anger in check.

“Now let me get this straight, Doc. First, you were worried about his blood pressure being too high, now you’re telling me it’s too low. Which is it?!”

Dr. Marshall tried to explain. “David, what we’re saying is for a person to live, the blood pressure must be maintained at a certain level. If it’s too high, it can cause a stroke, or possibly a heart attack. If it’s too low, it can be just as dangerous. The blood is not going through the heart at a fast enough rate, so there isn’t enough oxygen being generated for him to live. It isn’t only his blood pressure that’s dropping, it’s everything. His pulse is weak and thready, and his breathing is shallow.”

“So, what exactly are you telling me, Doc?”

Dr. Massey answered him. “He’s retreating, David.”

“What the Hell does that mean?” Fear and anger filled Starsky’s voice.

“It’s something like catatonia. His mind has been given too much to assimilate. He’s had one trauma after another, and it’s finally become too much. His mind is retreating, pulling away from the pain. It’s like he’s going into a warm, dark cave. There’s no pain in this cave, just peaceful, comfortable darkness. The problem is, that if his condition is prolonged, he may never recover. When the mind retreats like this, the body eventually shuts itself down.”

Starsky finally got it. “You’re telling me he could die, aren’t you?”

“Yes, David. I’m sorry, but if he doesn’t improve soon, we could lose him.”

Starsky turned away from them for a moment. The cold chill down his back had spread and his heart was pounding in his chest. For the first time since he walked into that damned hotel room, he realized he could lose his partner. It wasn’t just Hutch’s emotional well being that had been at stake, it was his life. He turned back to the doctors, his voice pleading with

them.

“I don’t understand! Hutch wasn’t hurt, physically. How can something that’s in his mind really kill him? How can that be possible?”

“What affects the mind also affects the body, David. That fact has been proven, several times. The point is this; we can try to bring his vital signs up to normal, but Hutch has to do the rest himself.”

“How long does he have, Doc?”

“If he doesn’t improve in the next few hours, the odds against him recovering will increase greatly. I can’t give you an exact timetable, David. I wish I could, but it’s simply not possible.”

“I want to see him.”

“He’s unconscious, David. He may not even know you’re there.”

“He’ll know.”

When Starsky walked into Hutch’s room, the first thing he noticed was the silence. It was eerie, almost like walking into a morgue. He stood by Hutch’s bed, looking down at him. Hutch was still, his chest barely rising and falling with each breath. His skin was pale, and for one blood-curdling second, it was like looking into a coffin. Starsky shook himself hard, pulling himself back from the edge of despair. He would not let Hutch die.

He pulled the chair around so that he could face Hutch and searched for the words.

“Hutch, I’m so sorry. I know that probably doesn’t mean much right now, but I don’t know what else to say. I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to find out you’re going to be a father. It must be one of the greatest feelings in the world. I know you would have been a fantastic dad. After losing them like that, no one could blame you if you wanted to go into that cave and never come out. Please, don’t do that, Hutch. You have to find the strength to go on, somehow.”

As he talked, Starsky felt as if he were transported into the cave with Hutch. Only, this cave wasn’t dark. It was filled with light, and it filled him with a sense of peace. He could see why Hutch was so tempted to stay. He blinked once, then he could see Hutch standing in front of him. Only, Hutch’s back was to him, and he was looking at an even brighter light. A gentle breeze blew through Hutch’s hair, and Starsky could hear the voices in the light calling to Hutch.

Starsky’s voice was soft, but insistent. “Hutch, look at me, please. Turn around and listen to what I have to say, please.”

Slowly, Hutch turned to face him. He gazed calmly at Starsky, then he spoke.

“I don’t want to come back, Starsk. I can’t. I’m tired. I don’t have the strength.”

“You have to, Hutch. It isn’t your time. Look, I know I’m not the most religious person you’ve ever known, but I believe that no one dies before his time. This isn’t your time.”

“How do you know that? What about the saying that HE never gives you more than you can handle? I can’t take anymore! Why did HE give me a child, then take it away? HE took Chris, too! Why, Starsk?”

“I can’t answer that, Hutch, no man can. It’s not for us to second guess HIM, but I do know one thing. You are the strongest man I have ever known. Look at all the things we’ve survived. You can’t go through the things we have and come out whole if you’re weak. I know something else, too. We’re stronger together than we are apart. Why do you think we were brought together all those years ago? HE has a plan, not only for us, but for everyone else on this earth. We’re not finished yet, Hutch. We still have so much to do!”

Now the breeze had become a wind. As it increased, Starsky realized he was feeling the turmoil inside Hutch’s mind. He couldn’t explain what was happening and didn’t even try.

Hutch’s voice rose with the wind. “What good has it done, Starsky? We fight to get rid of one arm of the beast, and another pops up to take its place! As soon as we lock one scum up, another one, just as bad, takes over! How long do we have to fight? How many arms do we have to chop off before we get to the head? Are we supposed to keep fighting forever? How strong does HE expect us to be?”

“As strong as we have to be! HE DOESN’T give us more than we can handle! I know that with every part of me! I know you can take this! I know you can, damn it! You have to keep fighting, Hutch. You can’t give up. We have so much more to do, and I can’t do it without you. I know HE wouldn’t take you and leave me alone to do this. It takes both of us.”

Starsky fought his way through the wind to his partner. His voice softened as the wind abated slightly.

“I know you’re tired. You have every right to be. I know it’s hard, but you have to come back, Hutch. You have to come back to me. I can’t do it alone. So stay here and rest for a while, if you need to. Only, don’t stay too long, and don’t go too far.”

Starsky blinked, and found himself back in the room. He looked down at Hutch.

“Come back, Hutch. Don’t leave us. Don’t leave me.”

He turned and walked out of the room. As he went past Huggy, all he said was, “Let's go."

Chapter 8

Starsky marched down the corridor with Huggy trailing behind him. He stopped at the lobby doors and squinted, letting his eyes get adjusted to the light. For a moment, he thought about the light in the cave. Did it really happen, or was it an hallucination brought on by the thought of losing Hutch? He didn’t know, or care.

For the time being, he would concentrate on Clairmont, and the case. Starsky shook his head, frustrated. He didn’t know what to do next. Hopefully, Clairmont would get in touch with Hamilton, and would puh Hamilton into doing something stupid. If Clairmont thought Starsky knew where Chris’ files were, he would naturally put more pressure on Hamilton to find them before Starsky did. Maybe it was time for Starsky to kick back a little and let someone else run around for a while.

“Hello? Starsky? Remember me? It’s your old pal, Huggy Bear. Do you mind telling me why we are sitting here in this striped tomato, going nowhere?”

Starsky blinked. “Sorry, Hug. I was just thinking. I think we should stake out Hamilton’s place, and see what he does next. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of running around in circles. We haven’t found a clue as to where Chris’ files are. Let’s see if Hamilton does any better.”

When Dr. Marshall heard his name over the intercom system, a sense of defeat washed over him. His back stiffened and his shoulders set as he entered ICU. Instead of the silent grief that he had expected, the room was filled with activity. Dr. Massey was quietly issuing orders, and the nurses moved efficiently to carry them out.

“Stewart, what’s happened?”

“Take a look at the monitors, Kevin. What do you see?”

Dr. Marshall looked, then looked again. He let out a soft cheer.

“His b/p is up, and so are his other vitals! They’re still not what they should be, but by God, they’re up!”

“The nurse called me, just a few minutes ago. She was making her routine check, and found this. That’s when I called you. He’s beginning to fight. He’s trying to come back.”

“Then let’s help him.”

Unaware of the drama going on at the hospital, Starsky and Huggy sat in front of Hamilton’s building, waiting impatiently. Hamilton had left his home, and driven straight to his office, with no stops in between.

“Maybe he hasn’t talked to Clairmont yet, Starsk.”

“Oh, he’s talked to him, Huggy. You can bet that Clairmont called him the second we left his office. He’s probably just taking it easy, planning his next move. All we can do is wait.”

Huggy wasn’t too happy about just sitting there, and he could tell Starsky wasn’t either, but there was nothing they could do about it. After another hour, however, Huggy was getting antsy. He opened his mouth to suggest they get a thermos of coffee when the call came over the radio.

“Dispatch to Zebra 3. Stand by for an emergency transmission from Community General Hospital.”

An emergency call from the hospital could only mean one thing. Huggy was afraid that he knew what they were about to hear. Huggy looked over at Starsky. He was sitting perfectly still, hands clutching the steering wheel. When he didn’t move to pick up the microphone, Huggy reluctantly did.

“This is Zebra 3. Go ahead, dispatch.”

“Huggy, is that you? Is David with you?”

“Yeah, Doc, he’s here. Go ahead.”

Starsky’s eyes closed and his hands gripped the wheel as tightly as he could, and waited for the words.

“David, he’s coming out of it! His vital signs are up, and they’re stabilizing. He’s improving, David!”

Starsky grabbed the mike, laughing. “That’s great, Doc! Does that mean that he’s going to be all right?”

“Well, he’s not completely out of the woods, yet. He won’t be until he regains consciousness, but this is a very good sign. We’re still going to be watching him carefully, of course, but at least now we can be optimistic.”

“Thank God for that much, anyway. Look, we’ll be there as soon as we can. Until then, keep us posted, all right?”

“Of course we will. Ending transmission.”

Starsky breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, something had gone their way. Hutch was going to be all right, he could feel it. Hallucination or not, Starsky knew he had reached Hutch somehow. What he had said was the key to Hutch’s recovery. Starsky’s head came up. He snapped his fingers. That was it! He knew what he had to do now. Starsky slammed the car into drive, peeling away from the curb as Huggy frantically clutched the roof of the car for support.

“Wait a minute, Starsky! Where are we going?”

“To the hospital,” was all that he said.

Starsky walked into Hutch’s room, with Huggy and Captain Dobey close behind him. He gazed down at his partner. Hutch was sleeping naturally now; his color was back to normal, breathing easily. Starsky nodded to himself, then turned to his captain.

“Captain, I know where Chris’ story is, and I know how to get it.”

“Starsky, are you serious? Where is it?”

“Think about it for a minute. Chris probably knew that Hamilton would try to kill her, especially after she turned down his ‘blank check’. So she would want to put it where Clairomont couldn’t get to it, no matter how powerful he was. She had to put it in a safe place, where someone couldn’t just walk in and take it.”

Huggy chimed in, “So it has to be in a safe deposit box somewhere. That way, Clairmont couldn’t find it easily. Where is it, Starsk? I can’t think of anywhere that we HAVEN’T looked.”

“I don’t know exactly where it is, Hug, but I know who does.” Starsky turned to look at Hutch.

Dobey snorted, exasperated. “Hutch? Starsky, he’s as much in the dark as we are, if not more. How could he know where her files are?”

“He doesn’t know that he knows. Cap, when you have something important, something valuable, where do you put it? In a safe deposit box, like you said, Huggy. Now, no matter where this box is, what’s the one thing you have to have to get into it?”

The light dawned on Huggy’s face. “A key, you have to have a key!”

“That’s right, and I have a good idea where that key is.” He turned to Dr. assey. “Where are the clothes that Hutch was wearing when we brought him into the ER?”

“They’re here in the closet. David, those aren’t the same clothes he was wearing the night of the murder.”

“If I’m right, it doesn’t matter. Would you get them, please?”

As Dr. Massey went for Hutch’s clothes, Starsky continued his explanation. “You see, Cap, from the start, we’ve wondered why Clairmont left Hutch alive. We knew it had something to do with the story, but we just thought Clairmont was waiting for Hutch to lead them to where she had it hidden. If that’s the only reason, why didn’t he kill Hutch when he realized Hutch didn’t know anything about Chris’ work? Maybe he’s thinking the same thing we are. Chris thought of a way to keep her files from falling into the wrong hands, even if she died. She made sure Hutch was the only one who could get to them. The only way to do that was to make sure he had the key. So she had to plant it where he would eventually find it, no matter what happened after she was killed. Chris was the one who provided the final clue.”

Starsky laid Hutch’s clothes down on the table and went straight for his wallet, talking as he moved.

“We found Chris’ hotel key in the one place she wouldn’t lose it; in her wallet. That way, no matter how many times she changed clothes, or where she went, she would have it with her. So that’s where she hid the most important possession she had.”

Searching each compartment carefully, he finally found the hidden treasure. Wordlessly, he turned to his audience and opened his hand. In his palm lay a single, gleaming key. Gingerly, Huggy picked it up and looked at it. Turning slowly, and squinting to read the tiny letters inscribed on its head, he read, “Commerce Bank, LA County. Where’s that?”

Dobey answered, “It’s on 4th and Main, not far from the hotel where she was staying. I’ll call Judge Shaw again. You’ll have a warrant within the half hour.”

Thirty minutes later, they were meeting the bank manager in the lobby.

“I’m Peter Helton, Detective Starsky. How may I help you?”

“We’re investigating a homicide, and have reason to believe crucial evidence is locked in one of your safe deposit boxes. I asked for you personally because it’s extremely important that we get into that box as soon as possible.”

“In whose name would the box be?”

“It would be either Christine Phelps or Ken Hutchinson.”

“I take it they aren’t able to come in person.”

“No, unfortunately they’re not.” Starsky didn’t elaborate.

“Let me check our files. It will only take a moment.” A few minutes later, he was back. “Yes, we have that box. It’s in the name of Kenneth Hutchinson. Um, Detective Starsky, I don’t mean to be difficult, but since the owners of the box aren’t here in person, you’ll need a warrant to get into it.”

Starsky handed the manager the paper he had been holding.

“There you are, Mr. Helton. Don’t worry, in investigations of this kind, a warrant is SOP. May we see the box?”

Henderson led them deep into the vault of the bank. Stopping at a row of small boxes, he checked the key to make sure it matched the number on the box. He inserted the key Starsky handed him, and the key he held, and opened the box. Taking out the long metal drawer, he handed it over to Starsky.

“Let me know when you’re finished, Detective. If there’s anything I can help you with, let the teller know. I’ll leave you alone now.”

Starsky thanked him and waited until he left the room. He glanced at Huggy.

“Well, here goes nothing.” Starsky took a deep breath and opened the box.

On top, in a plain manila envelope, was the story that had cost Chris her life. Starsky skimmed it quickly, to make sure it was authentic, then handed it to Huggy. It was what lay underneath the envelope that interested Starsky most.

It didn’t take long for Starsky to understand why Clairmont was willing to commit double homicide to protect himself. Chris had him cold. Names, dates, invoices, and secret contracts were all documented. As he read through the papers, Starsky realized something else. Clairmont wasn’t the only person Chris had named. By the time this mess was resolved, several big name heads were going to roll; government heads as well as civilian ones.

“Boy, Huggy, Chris really opened a Pandora’s Box with this one. I wonder if she knew how deep the slime really went?”

“Probably not at first, Starsk. Maybe by the time she realized what she had, it was too late. She was in too deep to get out. So, she did the only thing she could do. She turned it around and tried to make something positive out of it. Before she could do that, Clairmont had her killed.”

“Well, at least we can finish it for her. It won’t bring them back, but at least it will help put things to rest. Come on, Hug, let’s get out of here. We have a shark to catch.”

Back at the hospital, things were also looking better. Hutch continued to improve, and was moved out of Intensive Care into a private room. In a routine check, one of the nurses noticed the first movements. They were barely noticeable, but Hutch was definitely starting to wake up. Running out of the room, she returned seconds later with Dr. Massey and Dr. Marshall.

A moment later, without fanfare, Hutch opened his eyes. He lay there for a minute, looking around.

Dr. Massey spoke quietly. “Ken, can you hear me?”

Hutch looked at the doctors, and nodded.

“This is Dr. Marshall, Ken. He’s been assisting me on your case. You’re in the hospital. Do you understand?”

Again, Hutch nodded.

Dr. Massey glanced at his colleague, then softly asked. “Do you know why?”

A look of deep sadness crossed his face, and he turned slightly away from the doctors. Still silent, he nodded once more.

Massey laid his hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ken. I know you’ve been through an extremely rough time emotionally, but we can help you deal with it. It won’t happen overnight, but you will get through this. I promise.”

For a few minutes, Hutch lay quietly, then he blinked once and looked around. Swallowing and then clearing his throat, he spoke for the first time.

“Where’s Starsky?”

“He’s following up some leads, Ken. He knows where the article that Chris wrote is. He went to get it.”

Hutch lay quietly for a moment, then blinked. Incredibly, he started to get up.

Massey stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Whoa, wait a minute! Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going back to work, Doc. If Starsky’s got the story, then he’s going after Clairmont. He’ll need back-up.”

“Now, hold on a minute, Ken. You are NOT going anywhere! For one thing, he’s not alone. Huggy’s with him. You’re not strong enough to get out of bed, let alone go back to work. The only thing you’d do is fall flat on your face.”

Hutch tried to sit up, despite Massey’s hand on him. He struggled momentarily, then slumped back. The doctor was right, he couldn’t even push his way past Massey.

“OK, Doc, you win, for now. So what’s next?”

“You rest, relax, and get your strength back. When you feel stronger, we’ll talk.”

As Starsky was leaving the bank, one of the tellers called to him, motioning that he had a phone call. Puzzled, he took the phone from her.

“Starsky.”

“David, this is Dr. Massey. He’s awake! He woke up a few minutes ago.”

“Thank God! How is he?”

“All his vital signs are normal. He’s coherent, he knows where he is, and what’s happened. David, he remembers everything.”

Starsky was silent for a moment, then asked, “How’s he taking it?”

“He’s understandably quiet. When he regains his strength, we can start working through this. I see no reason why he can’t make a full recovery. Of course, it won’t be easy, and it will take time, but I can see the end of this mess in sight, for everybody.”

“You got that right, Doc. We’re on our way to end it right now for one person. Look, tell Hutch that I’ll see him as soon as I can.”

“I’ll tell him. David, be careful.”

Once again, Starsky and Huggy pushed their way past Clairmont’s receptionist, and stormed into his office.

“Now look, Starsky! You are NOT welcome here! Leave my office immediately, or I’ll call your police station and have you forcibly removed. Now, Detective!”

“Save yourself a call, Clairmont. They’re already on their way. You see, Clairmont, we found it.”

Clairmont’s eyes widened and the color drained from his face as the significance of Starsky’s words dawned on him.

“You found...it?”

“That’s right, scum. We found Chris Phelps’ entire file and the story she wrote. We made a little stop on the way over here, and I have a little present for you.”

He threw the slip of paper he had been holding on Clairmont’s desk. Clairmont sat down slowly and picked it up. He read it and looked up at Starsky.

“You are under arrest, Clairmont. The charges are fraud, bribing government officials, tampering with government bids, assault and battery on Cindy Friedman, conspiracy in the death of Christine Phelps and last but not least, two counts of pre-meditated murder.”

“Wait a minute! Two counts of murder? Hutchinson is very much alive, Starsky.”

“Yes, he is, and he’s going to come out of this mess whole, no thanks to you. I wasn’t talking about Hutch, Clairmont. The two counts of murder one are for Chris and her unborn child.”

Clairmont blanched visibly. His jaw dropped and he stared at Starsky.

“What, you didn’t know? No, maybe you didn’t. You didn’t do your homework very well, did you punk? That’s right. Christine was thirteen weeks pregnant. That’s why she refused to sell out to you. She was going to use her story not only to get rid of you, but to secure her own future, and her baby’s. She came to town that night not just to get away from you, but to

tell the father of her child that she was pregnant. You know, it’s funny. Her roommate said that Chris had been so happy, so excited about the new life she was going to have. It was a life that included a great career, a baby, and the father of that baby. Only, before they had a chance to begin that new life, you took it away from them. You came very close to destroying all three lives that night, not just two. Unfortunately, for you, one of those people did survive. He was too strong for you, scum. You see, he’s been fighting low-life's like you for years. We both have.”

He paused for a minute and watched as Clairmont digested this latest bit of information. When he was sure that Clairmont knew exactly who he was talking about, Starsky bent down until he was eye-to-eye with him and continued.

“Yeah, that’s right, scum. Christine Phelps was pregnant with my partner’s child.”

Finally, he could stand it no longer, and he exploded. He grabbed Clairmont by his collar and threw him against the wall.

“Get it now, Clairmont?! You no-good, rotten, son-of-a-bitch! Not only did you murder Chris Phelps, but you blew her away in front of the father of her baby!”

Before he could do anything else, Huggy was there, trying to pull him away from Clairmont. He wedged himself in between them.

“Starsk, no. You got this animal right down the line. Don’t blow it now.”

Starsky stood frozen for a second, then he relented. He stepped back from Clairmont and took out his ‘cuffs.

“You’re under arrest, Clairmont. You have the right to remain silent. You have a right to have an attorney present at the time of your questioning. If you desire an attorney, but can not afford one, an attorney will be appointed to represent you before any questioning. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?”

Defeated at last, Clairmont nodded. He didn’t resist as Starsky turned him around and led him out of the room.

“You know, Clairmont, you really have a beautiful office. You have very good taste. Too bad the only color you’re going to see for the rest of your life is prison gray.”

Chapter 9

The week following Clairmont’s arrest was busy for everybody concerned. Clairmont and Hamilton joined Eddie Avery in jail, with Avery and Hamilton singing their heads off. The DA was running around in a permanent state of chaos, smiling every minute. One could almost hear the scurrying as the rats named in Chris’ files ran underground to escape his wrath. Chris’ article had started a chain reaction that would take months to stop.

For Ken Hutchinson, the time did not pass as quickly, and was much more painful. Gradually, he regained his strength, and was allowed to get up and move around. He soon traded his hospital gown for pair of pajamas and a robe, refusing to “traipse around with everything hanging out for the whole world to see”. Slowly, his hands grew steady, and his voice strong. With the

two doctors’ help, he started on the long road to recovery.

He didn’t seem to mind the small audience that gathered in his room as he tried to weave all the threads together. Starsky and the others were filling in all the blanks, and in turn, he told them what little he knew.

“Chris must have recognized Hamilton sitting in the bar that night. She didn’t know Eddie Avery, but when she saw Hamilton, she probably guessed what he was planning to do. Maybe she thought we could lose ourselves down in Skid Row, I don’t know. Anyway, she must have slipped the key in my wallet while I was out of the room. I can’t believe she knew she was in that much danger and didn’t tell me!”

He walked around the room, still talking. “My God, I’m a cop! It’s my job to protect people. There I was, in the same room with her, and I couldn’t do a damn thing to protect her!”

Starsky said patiently. “Hutch you know better than anyone else how Chris was once she got hold of something. She wasn’t about to let go of this when she knew how important it was going to be for you both. I don’t think she thought about the danger to her, she just wanted the chance to make things work out.”

Dr. Massey took over the conversation. “I think we can all agree that Chris made her own decisions about how she was going to handle her life. Whether those decisions were sound doesn’t matter at this point. Nothing is going to change what happened. What is most important is that we go on with our lives. To do that, we have to work through this once and for all. However, I think we’ve done enough for today. I want you to get some rest, Ken. We’ll continue this tomorrow.”

Everyone but Starsky said goodnight and filed out the door, leaving the two men alone.

“Come on, you blonde Sleeping Beauty, let’s get you back in bed before you turn into a pumpkin or something.”

Hutch snorted derisively as he let Starsky herd him toward the bed. “Shows what you know. The pumpkin was in Cinderella, not in Sleeping Beauty. The Prince was in Sleeping Beauty.”

“Well, if you think I’m going to kiss you to break the spell, forget it. Now, you heard the Doc. Get some rest. I’ll see you later.”

Hutch was quiet for a second, then asked softly, “Why didn’t she tell me, Starsk? If she had, maybe she’d still be alive, and so would our baby.”

“I can’t answer that, Hutch, no one can. You have to let it go. You can’t go on blaming yourself. I know you’ve had a rough time, but it’s over. You have to get on with your life.”

The next day, Dr. Massey met Hutch for another session. This time, the only other person allowed to attend was Starsky.

Hutch took them back to the events that led up to the murder.

“I guess the first hint that I got that something was wrong was in the Fortress when Chris wanted to leave so quickly. I tried to get her to tell me what was wrong, but she kept sidestepping my questions. If she had told me then that someone was after her, I would have been watching for tails. We definitely wouldn’t have ended up on Skid Row. If she had told me that much, I could have protected her.”

Massey spoke. “You weren’t there to protect her, Ken. You were there because of the child, not because you were a police officer.”

“I know that now, Doc. I keep playing it over and over in my mind, wondering what I could have done to save her.”

“All right, then. Let’s resolve that part for good. Answer some questions for me. You and David have protected witnesses several times in the course of your careers, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, is it usual for you to put your witness in an unprotected place like the Broadway Hotel?”

“No.”

“That’s right. You have a designated safe house where you stay, and you have assistance from other officers. You also have as much background information as possible before you go into the situation, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Is it also normal behavior for you to be intimate with the women you protect?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then you can see my point. You weren’t there to protect Chris. That’s not what she wanted from you. You were there so she could tell you she was expecting your child. She wasn’t asking you for professional help. She didn’t want it. She wanted you to support her as the father of her child, and that’s all. So you can’t equate this situation with protecting an endangered witness. You said yourself that you had no idea she was in any danger. When you did sense that something was wrong, and asked Chris about it, she refused to tell you. You’re confusing what you know now with what you knew then. You’re basing your guilt on knowledge of the future, Ken. There’s no way you could have predicted what happened.”

Hutch rubbed his eyes, then his temples. Whenever he tried to absolve himself of the responsibility, his headaches always came back.

“I guess you’re right, Doc, but it’s just so hard! I keep thinking, if I had only known...”

Massey was patient. “But you didn’t. You had no way of knowing. You are NOT RESPONSIBLE for Chris’ death, or for the death of your child. The people who ARE responsible are in jail.”

Hutch leaned forward in his chair. “You don’t understand. She came to me for help. Whether it was professional or personal, she came to me, and I let her down.”

“You let her down? How?”

“She trusted me, Doc, and I failed her.”

“Oh, she trusted you? Let’s see how much she trusted you. She waited a month to tell you she was pregnant because she had to make her own decision about the child first. During that month, she continued to work on an article that she knew was extremely dangerous, and she never made any effort to contact you. When she did come to see you, she didn’t tell you that she was in trouble. When you asked her repeatedly about what was happening, she refused to tell you. That doesn’t sound like trust to me. In fact, it seems to me that she didn’t trust you at all!”

“All right, Doctor, you’ve made your point! I was a fool, on top of everything else! You’ve made that point painfully clear!”

“Why do you insist on blaming yourself, Ken? You weren’t foolish because you had no inkling of what was happening. She kept everything from you. You need to accept the facts. You couldn’t have known what was happening, because she didn’t want you to know!”

“That’s enough, Doctor! I get it, OK?!”

“Why are you angry, Ken? More important, with whom are you angry?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m angry with myself.”

“Why should you be angry with yourself? Anger implies guilt, and we’ve established that you aren’t to blame. So I’m asking you again; with whom are you angry?”

Hutch exploded out of his chair. “All right! I’m angry with Chris! Are you satisfied now? If she were standing here right now, I’d shake the Hell out of her. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Why are you angry with Chris, Ken? Tell me.”

“It’s her fault, that’s why! If she had told me from the start, I could have helped her. She knew I could! I’m a cop; a good cop. She knew that, but she didn’t even trust me enough to let me help. That was my baby, too! If she had trusted me, I could have done something. It was her fault they died!”

He collapsed in the chair, exhausted. Crying softly, he said, “It was my baby, too. She had no right to take it from me. If she had come to me, I could have helped her. Only, she wouldn’t let me.”

Starsky went over to sit by his friend. He put his hand on Hutch’s shoulder, and spoke softly.

“Hutch, you don’t know that for sure. Everything was set in motion months ago, when Chris started her research. When Hamilton saw her for the first time, she had to know she was in danger. By the time she came to see you, it was already decided. She was dead before she got here. The contract was already out. Chris had to have some idea of it. She was counting on this so much that she ignored her own instincts. If you had tried to interfere, Clairmont would have put a contract out on you, too. That wouldn’t have brought Chris back, or the baby. Nothing can bring them back. Hutch, you can’t stop living because they’re gone. You have to keep going.”

“David’s right, Ken. It’s over. It’s time to let them go. No one’s saying it will be easy, but you have to do it. It’s time to put the pieces back together, and we can help you do it.”

Hutch looked up at Starsky. “You know, for one brief moment, I had it all. I had a woman to love, a baby on the way and a real future. Then, in a minute, it was gone. It’s not fair! It hurts, Starsk. Oh, God it hurts!”

Hutch was released from the hospital three days later. The two doctors agreed that he had recovered enough to be on his own, so he went home to his own apartment. Starsky, of course, wasn’t happy with the prospect.

“Starsky, I’m fine, really. They wouldn’t have released me if I weren’t OK. I’ll be fine by myself. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, yeah, what happens if you start having nightmares again? Or, what if the headaches come back? What then?”

“I haven’t had a headache in days, and the nightmares are going away, slowly. Doc Massey said they would eventually disappear completely. Starsk, you can’t stay with me forever.”

Starsky’s eyes twinkled. “What, you never heard of the Odd Couple? Guess who’s the oddest one?”

Well, at least he got a smile out of that one.

“Starsky, no. I have to get used to being alone again. That’s part of my recovery, remember? I have to get my life back to normal, and living alone is part of it. As the saying goes, one step at a time. So, go on, it’s time to let your chick leave the nest.”

“All right, but I do this under protest. If it gets too much for you, all you have to do is yell. You know that, don’t you?”

Hutch propelled Starsky toward the door. “Starsky, out!”

Starsky opened the door, then turned back. “If you need me, you’ll call, right?”

“Yes, I’ll call.”

“Promise?”

Hutch tried to look stern. “I promise. Starsk, go...home.”

Finally, he pushed Starsky out the door. Alone for the first time, he leaned against the door and looked around. For a while, he wandered around his apartment, reacquainting himself with his home. He’d heard it said before, but had never truly understood what people meant. It really did feel like he had been away forever. It felt like the last time he’d seen his home was a lifetime ago, but that’s what this was all about. He was slowly getting his life back; moving forward by trying to get back in the old routine.

Ever mindful of his doctor’s orders, Hutch decided to go to bed early. He walked past the kitchen and into the bedroom. For a minute, he stood there, looking thoughtfully at the bed. He shook his head. No, he wasn’t quite ready for that yet. Shrugging briefly, he picked up his pillow and a blanket, went back to the living room, and plunked them down on the couch.

He sat down, saying aloud, “Well, couch, it looks like it’s just you and me.”

Taking off his boots, he undressed and slid under the blanket. As he closed his eyes, he noticed that the image of Christine Phelps had ever so slowly began to fade.

The End

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