As Starsky fell forward against Hutch, his eyes registered shock and disbelief. His only words were, “Hutch—stop him.” To Hutch, it seemed like an eternity passed those next few seconds, as he was faced with the decision to stay with his friend, or to stop the animal who was raping and murdering innocent women. Hutch realized in that instant he may just have also become the bastard who murdered Starsky. With that thought, the decision was easy. He gently lowered Starsky to the rooftop, careful to lay him on his side.
“Starsk, you gonna be okay, buddy? Can you hang in there a few minutes?”
Starsky seemed far removed from his surroundings, but nodded and reached over to squeeze Hutch’s arm. “Just get the turkey, Partner. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
By now, Puchelli had taken cover once more and was frantically trying to figure an escape route. He had just killed a cop, and was planning to make it two. But he sure as hell wasn’t planning to get himself killed in the process. Puchelli had no way of knowing the wrath he had just incurred with his decision to shoot Starsky.
Hutch was blind with fury, but fought to bring it under control. He knew that the faster he got Puchelli, the faster he could get help for Starsky.
“Give it up, Puchelli! Back up is on the way right now.”
No response.
“We’ll have this whole block cordoned off in 10 minutes. You just shot a cop. Your best chance is to give up now. Once word gets out what you did to my partner, your life isn’t going to be worth spit!”
Hutch’s entreaty was met with two shots in rapid succession. He was rattled, but not so much so that he didn’t realize that Puchelli had only one bullet left. This bolstered his courage even more. Running on a mixture of rage and adrenaline, Hutch charged forward and fired two shots in the area he last saw Puchelli.
Puchelli panicked as he saw Hutch speeding toward him, obviously without fear or reason. He waited until he thought there was a clear shot, then stepped from behind his shield and fired at Hutch.
Unfortunately for Puchelli, Hutch was faster. He fired two shots, one striking the criminal in the chest—near the heart—and one nailing him in the right shoulder. Puchelli collapsed, but was still conscious when Hutch reached him.
“You got me, pig, but not before I killed your partner.
Don’t you forget that, pig. Don’t forget the look on his face when I shot him. Almost as good as those whores I took care of.”
His final breath was cut short as his heart stopped beating. Hutch fought the urge to kick the dead man square in the face. Somehow, he felt cheated. It was as if Puchelli went too easy.
Hutch hurried back to where Starsky lay and was alarmed to see the widening pool of blood as it flowed from his partner’s back. He kneeled down and removed his jacket, wadded it into a large ball and pressed it against the wound in an effort to staunch the flow of blood.
“Starsk, can you hear me, buddy?” He asked, barely above a whisper. “Starsky, try to listen to me. I need to get us some help. Will you be okay for another minute?”
Starsky’s eyes fluttered open momentarily. “Hutch, don’t leave. Gotta talk…don’t have much time.”
“Shhhh…don’t try to talk, we’ll have plenty of time for that later.”
“No,” Starsky answered, clinging tightly to Hutch's arm.
“Now … I don’t wanna die with you mad at me.”
Suddenly, the door leading to the rooftop flung open as three police officers and Captain Dobey rushed onto the scene. Dobey immediately assessed the situation and used his hand-held radio to call for an ambulance and paramedics.
Relieved to see the Calvary arrive, Hutch sat down on the graveled roof and lifted Starsky’s head onto his lap. As the injured man lay on his side, Hutch took a clean handkerchief from his back pocket and gently wiped away the glistening sweat which had accumulated on Starsky’s face. His breathing was more labored, but he still struggled to speak.
“Hutch...sorry, I do trust ya...never stopped...”
“It’s okay partner. I’m the one who’s sorry. I screwed up. We’ll work it all out,” he said soothingly, then shouted over his shoulder, “Where the hell is that ambulance? Cap’n, can’t you do something?”.
Dobey had quickly gone over to check on Puchelli before returning to where Starsky & Hutch were huddled on the rooftop. “Hang in there, Dave, help’s on the way,” Dobey said, in a warm, caring voice that the two detectives weren’t accustomed to hearing from their boss.
Hutch held the make-shift bandage to the wound, his fear mounting as the jacket became warm and sticky with the freely flowing blood of his partner. Please don’t die, Starsky. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t live with myself if you do… While these thoughts screamed through Hutch’s mind, he struggled to conceal from Starsky the seriousness of the situation.
“Starsk, sometimes I think you’ll do anything to get out of work. Do you think for one minute Cap’n Dobey’s going give you extra time off because of this?” he said, hoping to come across light-hearted, but failing miserably.
Starsky’s grip on Hutch’s arm gradually weakened.
“Listen, Partner...at least this time...you’re gonna get stuck...with the paperwork. You did get ‘em, didn’t you, Hutch? I mean, I sure as hell would hate to die...and you still not get ‘em.” The words grew weaker as Starsky faded into oblivion.
Hutch was completely undone by Starsky’s feeble attempt at humor. He tried to swallow the rising sob his throat. He hugged Starsky to him and quietly wept.
Hutch knew that his partner and friend was bleeding to death. In the distance he could hear the wail of the fast approaching ambulance. He only hoped they weren’t too late.