Work Text:
Some days are diamonds, some days aren’t.
Starsky and Hutch are on a homicide case and Starsky is in a foul mood. Could there be a connection or is he having an off day or two. Sometimes things can be right under your nose or too close to home, but still get missed.
Chapter 1
Mr and Mrs Hudson returned from their holiday to find their friend and neighbour George Scott murdered in their kitchen. Their home was now a crime scene.
The Hudsons had recently moved into the house after inheriting it from Mr Hudson’s late father. Now their old family friend had been murdered. A senseless murder, of an elderly gentleman that couldn’t have fought back. The burglar had taken the worst possible thing from them, their friends’ life.
The Hudsons regretted accepting George’s offer of going into the house to water their plants. Fortunately, Mr Hudson had stopped his wife from seeing the horrific scene. Nevertheless, they were both clearly distressed. Starsky and Hutch had spoken with them before a neighbour kindly took them into her home.
The crime scene was a mess, the house had been ransacked. Every piece of soft furnishing had been slashed. There was upholstery filling everywhere. The father’s old study had once been adorned of taxidermized animals. Each one had been wrenched off their displays and hacked to pieces.
Hutch noticed Starsky’s hastily retreat from the study. “Starsk, what d’ya find?”
Starsky looked round and lowered his voice. “Nothing, but that room gives me the creeps.”
Taken by surprise, Hutch almost laughed at his partner. Starsky was like a diamond, with many facets which constantly amazed Hutch. After all the terrible things they had come across in their job, the old fashion hunters style room had clearly spooked his friend.
Starsky shuddered as he noticed Hutch’s reaction and wished he hadn’t said anything.
“That room is full of death,” he rasped, glad that the nearby rookie officer hadn’t heard, while he briskly walked past his partner.
“An old hunters’ tradition to keep trophies,” Hutch said, wishing he’d concealed his initial reaction better from his partner, who now clearly felt mocked.
“A tradition I do not like!”
Hutch bit back a smile. Starsky genuinely enjoyed most traditions, especially as they usually included some kind of celebratory meal.
“Me neither,” Hutch agreed, swiftly trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere between them. “Looks like he interrupted an intruder and paid with his life. All for a few measly pieces of silverware!” As Hutch said this, he looked in the direction of covered body.
Leaving the crime scene, Hutch realised his partner was quieter than normal. Hutch regretted his reaction Starsky’s openness earlier. Growing up, he’d been forced to listen to his father’s and his friends’ gruesome hunting stories. He could never see how hunting was considered a sport.
As Starsky drove them back to the precinct, he thought how in a way, they prowled the streets like hunters. But his car wasn’t inconspicuous. They wanted to be seen, and they did not enjoy killing anything. Hell, Hutch even hated it if one of his plants died.
“Hey Starsk, bear left here. I wanna try a new café that’s opened.”
They had been at the crime scene all morning. Hutch was surprised his partner hadn’t complained about being hungry. The café had a nice welcoming feel about it as they entered.
“Starsk, you must be as hungry as a bear. I know you missed breakfast.”
“Yeah,” Starsky agreed, but the response lacked his usual enthusiasm that came with food.
“You okay? Wouldn’t want to force food on you!” Hutch joked, although also slightly concerned that he had upset his friend earlier.
“Sorry I was thinking what to order.”
Starsky didn’t know why or want to admit that he still felt unsettled about the study. How could he look at dead bodies without flinching but feel this way over stuffed dead animals? What was wrong with him?!
Leaving the café, they visited their least favourite fence with a particular liking for silverware. The fence reluctantly, after persuasion, admitted to buying the goods they were looking for. It had been a no questions asked sale, and the description of the seller was as vague as it could come. At least they knew the person had local knowledge of who to take them to. And although it would bring no comfort to the Hudsons, they could return the stolen goods.
Chapter 2
They went through the files of known burglars with knife convictions, disregarding the useless description the fence had given them.
“STARSKY, HUTCH. MY OFFICE NOW!” Dobey’s voice bellowed out from his office.
“Good luck! He’s been like a bear with a sore head all day,” Minnie warned them.
“Thanks, sounds like we’ll need it.” Hutch replied, noticing his friend was still lost in thought. “Starsk?”
“Yeah er, I’m coming. I’ll take this in.” He pulled out a chocolate bar from his desk drawer. “Might sweeten his mood. It’s a shame Edith’s put him on a diet.”
In Dobey’s office, Starsky grabbed a chair to put next to his partner’s and before he’d even sat down, Dobey got up on his feet.
“Do you know who was a personal friend of your victim?!”
“No Capt’n. We’ve just started looking at that,” Starsky answered, tearing open his chocolate wrapper.
“Agnes, my nosey neighbour. She’s been in with Edith all afternoon. You know what that means?!” Dobey said, glancing at the chocolate bar in Starsky’s hand and sitting back down.
“Edith’s not been able to cook dinner?” Hutch responded as innocently as he could.
Dobey practically jumped up off his chair, slammed his palms flat down on the desk leaning forward like a raging bull. “I don’t expect that sort of back chat from you!”
“Capt’n, we should pay her a visit,” Starsky immediately suggested, taking the sheet of paper that Dobey almost threw at him.
Starsky put his chocolate bar on the desk, looking at Agnes’s address and telephone number.
“So, what are you still doing here? Get out my office and do your job!”
“Yes Capt’n,” they replied as they left.
When Starsky reached his desk, he spectacularly twirled round. A movement that even Ginger, from the dance hall, would have been impressed with.
“Oh damn, how careless of me. I left my chocolate on Dobey’s desk,” Starsky mischievously smiled to his partner. “Should I give him a moment to calm down?”
“Let me chew on that thought, bear with me.” Hutch rubbed his chin as if in deep thought. “You’d be helping him.”
“Indeed, I would. I’d be removing the temptation to break his diet.”
“Absolutely…so what are you waiting for?”
“Good question Ollie…what am I waiting for?”
Starsky went back into Dobey’s office, finding Dobey holding his chocolate raised to his mouth. Starsky quickly, reached over the desk, and took the chocolate bar right out of his hand. “Thanks, I wondered where I left it.” He turned quickly, grinning as he kicked the door shut behind him.
Hutch quickly tossed Starsky his jacket, and they rushed out the squad room laughing. Behind them they could hear Dobey shouting about his door being kicked.
Chapter 3
As always, Agnes was keeping an eye on what was going on in her street. She stood straightening her skirt down her petite figure, immediately recognising the familiar red and white car outside her house. The two men coming up her pathway regularly visited the Dobeys, and she knew they were police. Nevertheless, she still checked their badges before welcoming them into her home. They sat waiting in the lounge while she made them each a coffee.
When Agnes joined them, she explained her husband had passed away 6 years ago. They had known George through a mutual friend, and she was devastated to hear the news. Her reddened puffy eyes, stood out from her pale complexion and jet-black hair.
Starsky leant forward comfortingly, as she wiped her eyes with her handkerchief.
“We’re sorry for your loss. I assure you; we will do everything in our power to catch who did this.”
She explained the elderly mutual friend was no longer with them and she didn’t know much about George’s family or friends. They understood that speaking about George was upsetting and she was clearly fragile emotionally.
In a way, Agnes reminded Starsky of his own mother. They had both become widows too young. But she didn’t have that look in her eyes. That look that his mother had ever since his father had been taken from them.
Agnes stressed how vulnerable she felt, as a woman living alone. Starsky knew his mother felt the same even now although she tried to hide it from him.
Hutch felt the melancholy emotion emanating from his partner, although didn’t know what had brought it on.
“I can tell you’ve been keeping busy. Taking your mind off your loss.” Starsky said, smiling at Agnes.
Hutch wondered what he had missed, but clearly Agnes knew as she clasped Starsky’s hands warmly and said, “You can smell them, can’t you?”
“That, and Ma had the habit of baking when she got upset.”
As a boy Starsky didn’t realise why there were days, his mother would immerse herself in baking. It was only when he was older that he realised. She did it when she was worried about his father returning home safely. Then that fateful day came, when he’d never be returning home again. The day his mother had feared.
Agnes stood up, saying, “Come with me, it’s the least I can do. I wish I could have helped more, but it’s all too sudden.”
Starsky followed her to the kitchen. On the kitchen table there were two large trays of freshly baked cookies. The small kitchen side was covered with freshly prepared vegetables and a covered bowl, which by the smell must have been cut onions. Starsky thought how his partner could learn a thing or two from this lady’s balanced diet.
They returned joining Hutch in the living room both with a plate of cookies, and it wasn’t only Starsky who was smiling. Agnes seemed happier than she had been previously. Although they had explained at present they had no leads in the investigation yet. Agnes passed Hutch her plate of cookies.
“I feel reassured now we have spoken. Please take these over to the Dobeys. The other plate’s for the pair of you.”
When they left the house, they realised quite how long they had been with her. But getting Dobey off their back meant it was time well spent. Starsky also seemed happier to Hutch, although the plate he was carrying may have influenced that.
“Starsk, let’s deliver these lovely fresh cookies over to Edith. Perhaps stay for a drink and a bite to eat.” Hutch smiled mischievously, nodding his head towards Dobey’s car.
“Ahh, it’d be rude not to,” Starsky playfully replied, as he put the plate he was carrying in his car. “Shame Cap’s on a diet.”
Chapter 4
He abruptly broke free from the nightmare, in a hot sweat gasping for breath and tangled up in his bed sheet. The old nightmare had returned with vengeance. His shaking hand wiped the sweat from his face. Starsky knew there was no way, he would be able to go back to sleep. It had been months ago, that he’d been held by Simon’s goons. But now it felt like yesterday. He looked at the telephone contemplating whether to call Hutch but decided against it.
Unable to concentrate on reading, he threw his book down on his bed and decided to get up for a drink. He put the radio on softly, looked at the beer in the fridge but decided on a mug of hot cocoa. The next few hours went painfully slowly. He couldn’t wait to get to work and forget all about the damn nightmare.
“Morning partner,” Starsky called out, announcing himself as he entered Hutch’s apartment.
“Starsk, this is a first. You’re early, you okay?!” Hutch kidded, walking out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped round his waist.
“Very funny!”
The sharp response caught Hutch’s attention and he immediately looked round at his friend, noticing how tired he looked.
“No really. You okay buddy?” Hutch asked, concerned.
“Great, I’ll go then! I’ll wait for you in my car.”
Starsky immediately turned back angrily.
“Starsky, don’t!”
But Starsky was slamming the door behind him as he left.
Hutch rushed to get ready, concerned as to what was up with his friend. It wasn’t like Starsky to have an attitude with him, not like that anyway. He had picked up that something had seemed to hit a nerve with his friend at Agnes’s. But he’d seemed fine after visiting the Dobey’s home.
Starsky booked them on duty and started the engine as Hutch approached the car. Within minutes, a call came over the radio for a shop break in. Hutch grabbed the radio and instantly accepted the call.
“Why Hutch?!” Starsky’s annoyance was more than clear, by his tone and the look he gave his partner.
“I use that health shop and know the owners.”
“Great, we take the call, so you can get your weird food!”
“It’s not like that! It’s two roads away.”
Hutch was getting annoyed, any other day Starsky wouldn’t have event questioned it.
“So, it gets priority over the homicide!” Starsky said accusingly.
“No, not at all. Can you just grin and bear it for me?”
Hutch practically had to bite his tongue how annoyed he was with Starsky and knew as soon as possible he’d try to get to the cause of his friend’s attitude. Starsky drove to the shop in silence. Hutch could tell he wasn’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering him and knew better than try to force the issue.
They pulled up outside the small parade of shops, which was set back from the road. The couple who owned the shop were outside. The husband was comforting his wife. Hutch knew they had struggled getting the shop up and running. As he approached them, he could see the mess the shop was in and felt terrible for them.
“Oh Hutch, I didn’t know you’re a policeman.”
The sight of Hutch gave the owners some comfort.
“Yes, and this is my partner Detective Starsky.” He gestured as they both showed their badges.
“Hutch will take your statement, and I’ll take a look inside.” Starsky said, knowing he wasn’t in a fit state of mind to talk to anyone.
“Detective, be careful it’s a mess in there. Sticky honey and flour everywhere,” the woman said sadly.
“Honey?” Starsky questioned.
“They smashed a shelving of different honey brands,” she explained.
Starsky looked down and noticed a trail of floury mess leading from the shop. Inside, everything was sticky, packs of all sorts of food had been slashed open. His trainers were sticking to the overwhelmingly sweet-smelling mix of honey and powder mix on the floor. As he walked further in, there was a full-size stuffed bear on the floor. He hesitated before walking round it. Even the bear had been slashed open, adding stuffing to the mess in the small shop. He realised it must have been part of the honey bear display.
While he was thinking how ridiculous it was to have a dead stuffed animal in a health shop, he turned quickly, almost slipping on the mess and nearly falling on top of the bear. The whole shop was ruined, with every surface covered in flour or the sticky-gooey honey. Even the till was smashed on the floor with coins and notes scattered from it. He felt sorry for the young couple. There was hardly any stock that would be salvageable. He carefully left the shop heading back to his partner.
“Hutch, a moment.”
“What you got?” Hutch called back as he left the couple.
“It reminds me of the Hudson House.”
“A murdering healthy burglar?” Hutch kidded with a bright-eyed smile, but on noticing Starsky’s reaction he immediately regretted his joke.
“Oh, take a look yourself!” Starsky bit back as he strode past his partner. “Why hit a health store?”
Starsky briskly spoke with the owners and said goodbye, before returning to his car.
Hutch finished with the shop owners, agitated by his partner’s attitude. Starsky was usually up for a joke. Especially one that he could throw back in his face about health food. He walked over to join Stasky, who was sat in his car waiting with the door open.
Trying his best not to let Starsky’s mood get the better of him, Hutch let Starsky know that he now agreed with his appraisal. He leant against the car looking towards the shop. He told Starsky that he had checked with the shop owners and to their knowledge there were no connections between them and the Hudsons. He agreed with Starsky, it was similar in the way that everything was slashed open.
“Coincidence? Don’t normally believe in them, but it makes no sense.”
“No,” Starsky abruptly agreed. “And don’t think you’re getting in here like that! Not in those sticky shoes,” Starsky added sharply.
“It’s alright for you then?!”
“No. I changed into my gym shoes. Take ‘em off or take a walk!”
Hutch was sorely tempted to take the latter option, the way Starsky had been all morning. But he was concerned about his usually upbeat friend’s attitude and knew unintentionally he hadn’t handled things well.
“Don’t know why I’m bearing the brunt of your bad mood.” He angrily kicked his shoes off, picked them up, and waved them at his partner. “Happy now?!” Seething, he walked in the road to the passenger side in his socks.
“YES!”
The silence was uncomfortable as Starsky drove, Hutch bit his tongue until he calmed down, then eventually broke the silence.
“Why hit a health store?”
“Nothing taken, not even the small amount of cash.” Starsky briefly glanced over at his partner who was dutifully sitting holding his shoes away from the car seat. “Like ya’ say, must ‘a been looking for something…But what?” A slightly more mellow tone was creeping into Starsky’s voice.
“Be dammed if I know.”
“There’s…” Starsky stopped. Hutch had seen both crime scenes as well. What he’d noticed was irrelevant, and he was in no mood to be made to feel stupid for pointing out the obvious.
“Go on,” encouraged Hutch, wondering if he had missed something his partner had noticed.
“No, nothing!” Starsky held back, he knew he was tired and in no mood to be mocked.
“You sure?”
“Yes! I said, didn’t I!”
Hutch was about to react to Starsky’s attitude when the radio interrupted them.
“Zebra three, zebra three, received a message for you to call on, the Bear?” The dispatcher relayed the message, hoping they understood it more than she had.
“Zebra three, received out.”
“Let’s see what ‘the Bear’ has for us,” Hutch said, mimicking the dispatcher. He decided not to push his luck by asking the cause of his friend’s abnormal volatile temper. “We can grab something to eat at the same time, my shout,” he offered, hoping once they were eating, Starsky would talk to him about whatever was on his mind. His partner rarely had such a bad mood. But when he did it was usually short lived. Also, it was usually caused by work, usually impacting them both so he’d know he cause. This time was different, Starsky also seemed a bit closed off to him and he looked so tired.
Chapter 5
As they entered the Pits, Huggy got two drinks for them. “Amigos, word on the street is you’re on the old boy’s cutthroat case.”
Starsky silently picked up one of the drinks and took a swig.
“Can anything happen without you knowing!” Hutch said, as Huggy came out from behind the bar.
“Blondie, do I look like a bear in hibernation?”
“Not in that shirt. What’ve you got for us?” Hutch asked, conscious that his partner was being unusually quiet.
Huggy leaned in discretely, even though no one else was in the bar. “Word on the street, dude did time for the wrong crime, now he’s out. You dig?”
“That’s connected with our murder victim by revenge?” Hutch asked, confused.
“Man, no. He was one unlucky dude. A bad cat went down for a lesser crime, getting away with murdering his partner. Now he’s out, trying to find where said partner stashed the goods.”
“Any names?” Starsky asked.
“The dead partner was Jerry the Gem.”
“I take it by his name, he liked precious stones,” surmised Hutch.
“Liked the private, unannounced visits to the up-market jewellers.” Huggy stood back indicating that was all he had for them. “The usual?”
“Thanks, my shout.” Hutch knew it wasn’t much to go on, but it was a starting point, and he got his wallet out to pay in advance.
“You payin’? How about the tab while you’re at it?”
“Take this and keep the change.” Hutch knew it would hardly touch their tab.
“You bear witness to that!” Huggy clinked his glass against Starsky’s.
“Yeah,” Starsky mumbled in response.
“Hey man, you been burning the candle at both ends?”
“Yeh, something like that.”
Starsky picked up his drink and headed over to their favourite booth. Huggy tilted his head to Hutch, as if to ask what was up with Starsky, but Hutch shrugged in return not knowing the answer.
Hutch called the precinct requesting the files of all unsolved large jewellery heists in the last 5 years, along with the list of recent parolees for when they returned to the squad room When he joined his friends in the booth, they were talking about the previous night’s soccer game. (Did you mean soccer or NFL?)
Starsky seemed himself after a while and, as they left, Huggy reminded them to come on Friday night for the big unveiling. Hutch realised he’d missed something Starsky and Huggy had talked about while he’d been on the phone. Starsky also seemed keen to leave.
“Huggy has cordially invited us Friday for a Huggy Surprise.”
“So, what’s the surprise?” Hutch could tell his partner knew.
“Come on Blondie, wouldn’t be a surprise now if I told yah!”
They spent the rest of the day going through old case files. They identified ten potential suspects with a history in jewellery heists. After checking all the names, they had three who’d recently been paroled. Two of them had rap sheets including violent assaults. The third was an unknown with no previous history of violence. They headed out to see if they could get started on interviewing suspects.
Winston, the first of the three, was struck off quite quickly after calling on him and then checking with the hospital how long he’d had his arm in plaster. After the interview, Hutch got pensive.
Logging off for the night, Starsky knew something was on Hutch’s mind although he denied it. Even though he was tired from the night before and the long day, his friend came first. He made a point of inviting himself into Hutch’s apartment suggesting they ordered pizza.
As they ate, Starsky waited for the right moment. “Come on Blitzen, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” but Hutch knew he hadn’t sounded very convincing. So he tried to cover up by giving another reason, not the real one. Not the one he didn’t like thinking about, the one that could have lost him his best friend. “This morning, I didn’t mean to be so...”
“No, I overreacted. But that’s not it. Is it?” Starsky interrupted, not falling for his partner’s attempt to hide whatever was on his mind.
“You know, one day you’ll make a hell of a good detective!”
“One day huh?! Now spill.” Starsky snickered but still felt Hutch’s hesitance to share what was really on his mind. He sat waiting, the worse thing would be to rush him.
“Winston reminded me…I…I should have checked Bellamy’s story.” Hutch rubbed his face and looked away.
“Hey don’t! You do remember I was there as well. I could ‘a checked it.”
“You were drugged up and was…”
“But I had the vested interest. You…you never gave up. You saved me.”
“You saved me first, on the rooftop.” Hutch had always struggled with his partner shooting Bellamy.
“We always have each other’s backs. No more overthinking the past. Another beer?” Starsky asked, trying to move the conversation away from the soapy topic.
“You have another beer, and I’ll make you crash here.”
Starsky got up and got two beers out the fridge, sat back down, and kicked his trainers off.
Hutch had wanted to ask Starsky what had been on his mind earlier. But whatever it was, had passed, and he didn’t want to spoil the mood of the evening. They were enjoying the film. And he was happy to have Starsky’s company after being reminded how close he’d been to losing his friend.
It was the middle of the night Hutch woke, thinking he heard his name. Half asleep he remembered Starsky was sleeping on the settee. There it was again. It was only a mumble, but it was getting louder. He got up to check on his partner. Starsky was in the throes of a nightmare, frantically tossing and turning tangled up in the blanket.
“Starsk, buddy wake up.” Starsky hit out in his sleep, forcing Hutch to duck back. “Wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”
Starsky suddenly recalled, feeling alone in the dark and cold, longing for his partner to find him. He heard Hutch in the distance, then Hutch was calling his name, louder and louder until he abruptly woke up.
“Starsky?” Hutch was by his side full of concern. “Sorry, it’s my fault. We shouldn’t have talked about Bellamy earlier.”
Hutch sounded so terrible, Starsky was trying to think why.
“Err?” He’d had the same nightmare the previous night and wanted to reassure Hutch it wasn’t his fault. He could see how bad he felt, but if he knew, Hutch would only worry more if he told him the truth. “No, wasn’t that. I thought you were…you know we usually sleep on each other’s settees when the other’s been hurt?”
“But not this time, buddy.”
“I know that now I’m awake. Sorry I woke you.” Starsky stretched and sat up.
“You mush-brain!”
“Hey and there was me worried about you!”
“Well don’t! Go back to sleep and remember we’re both okay.”
Hutch happily went back to bed knowing there was nothing wrong with either of them. Starsky laid back down, satisfied his friend was no longer blaming himself for his nightmare. He waited for Hutch to close his bedroom door and then sat up, not wanting to slip back into the same nightmare of being trapped in the dark cave.
Chapter 6
The dark rings under Starsky’s eyes couldn’t be missed and Hutch felt the nightmare was his fault, regardless of the feeble explanation Starsky had fed him last night. It may have fooled him when he was half asleep. However, now he felt guilty about bringing up that cursed 24 hours, no wonder Starsky had a nightmare. Then again, yesterday Starsky hadn’t been himself before that. He knew he’d get Starsky to talk eventually about what was or had been on his mind.
Arriving at the address of the next suspect, they stepped over the drunk down-and-out, who was sleeping on the steps of the apartment block. Inside, the dingy entrance led to a stairway. They headed upstairs, checking the apartment numbers. As they walked down the corridor, they heard a scream coming from an apartment. They ran towards the noise, which took their priority. As it turned out, the now muffled cries were coming from the apartment they were looking for. Cautiously, with their guns drawn and both standing to the side of the door, Starsky knocked.
“Police, open up!” They heard the muffled sound again from inside and Starsky repeated, “Police, open up!”
After no response, he swiftly kicked the door open. As it swung open, shots flew past, barely missing Hutch as he surged forward, followed by Starsky.
“Drop it! I’m not gonna repeat it.” Hutch’s commanding voice was as startling as the cold steel barrel of the gun pointed at the man.
The man stood frozen; two guns aimed at him.
“You heard him. Drop it!”
The man looked like a deer in headlights, momentarily hesitating before dropping his gun to the floor. Starsky moved forward, kicking the gun towards Hutch and cuffed the suspect.
“Not cool! You shot at us! You have no idea the paperwork that’s gonna cause.”
Starsky pushed him down on a chair. Hutch checked the kitchen and bathroom, which were both clear. They had both heard the muffled cries from the apartment, but they knew by experience not to let their guard down.
Hutch slowly pushed the last remaining door to the bedroom with the barrel of his gun. There it was again, a louder stifled cry. He warily stepped in and saw a woman who looked petrified. She was huddled in the corner of the bedroom, in a torn shirt and nothing else. She had been savagely beaten. She recoiled in fear, her hands clenched so tight against her mouth, Hutch thought she was biting down on them.
“Miss. We’re not going to hurt you.” He slowly holstered his gun and showed her his badge. “I’m Detective Hutchinson, my partner is Detective Starsky. You’re safe now.” He pulled the blanket off the bed and gently wrapped it round her.
Starsky had taken a quick look in the room, on hearing Hutch’s tone. He immediately turned back to call the paramedics.
“Miss, did he do this?” Hutch asked gently.
The woman still hadn’t moved her clenched hands from her mouth but responded with a silent nod.
“Help is on its way.” A flicker of relief crossed her face. She gave a solemn nod. “Do you want to press charges?” She nodded again tentatively.
They had seen victims so often in this state of shock, right now she needed to know it was over and she was safe.
Starsky and Hutch both knew things could have been much worse; they could have been in the apartment investigating a homicide. By the time the paramedics arrived. The lady had unknowingly given their suspect an alibi for the break in at the Hudson house and the shop. That left one suspect to track down. The problem was they only had a name and a distorted arrest photo from 4 years ago. They also had found a significant stash of drugs in the apartment, meaning their time would be taken up booking and interviewing this case that they had walked in on.
It was mid-afternoon, before their attention was back on George Scott’s homicide. Unable to trace their final suspect, they tackled it from a different angle, identifying all unsolved John Does around the time of his arrest. They found three, but one had been murdered with the same MO as their victim. And that was a 4-year-old cold case, which matched the MO and fitted their timeline. They went to location where the body had been found behind, hoping someone might remember it.
Unfortunately, when they arrived at the address, the premises had changed hands. It had been an art studio and was now a food store. However, the shop keeper gave them the telephone number of the property owner, who had owned and managed the art studio. They couldn’t get through to the property owner but left a message on their machine. They then contacted the detectives who’d been on the original case. The report was detailed and precise, but they knew no detective wanted a nameless victim forgotten about. It was a courtesy with cold cases, to inform the original detectives if something new came to light.
“So what time are we summoned to the Pits tonight?” Hutch asked Starsky, as they started wrapping up for the day. “Molly’s over, we’ll meet you there?” Hutch’s impish smile said more than his words.
“Any time before 8, but I’m not going…don’t want to cramp your style.”
“Buddy, you couldn’t cramp my style if you tried. Come along with us.”
“Nah, tell Huggy I’ll see it later.”
“You know Molly won’t mind. Anyway, what’s the big reveal?”
“Thanks, but I’ll give it a miss. And I’m not spoiling the surprise, my lips are sealed.”
“That’s a first!” Hutch replied, nudging his partner as they left the squad room.
“Hey! I’m sworn to secrecy.” Starsky stifled another yawn. “Pick me up in the morning? Don’t wanna interrupt anything.”
“You won’t. Her flight’s at the crack of dawn, but I’ll pick you up.” Hutch knew Starsky had been tired all day and decided not to push him any further.
“Hutch, tell Huggy…er tell him…”
“Don’t worry buddy, I’ll tell him.”
Starsky looked exhausted as they walked back to the Torino and Hutch knew Huggy would understand.
Chapter 7
Hutch entered the Pits with Molly and they were immediately greeted by Huggy. “My dear you’re definitely an improvement on his usual curly haired partner.”
“I do hope you are referring to Starsky,” Molly playfully responded, with a wry smile to Hutch.
“Molly meet Huggy. And yes, he means Starsky.”
“Gooood Golly Miss Mollllly,” Huggy sang out. “You know when you bore of Blondie here, you can call on me day or night.” He gently took her hand and kissed it.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Hutch quickly distracted Huggy from his date, giving Starsky’s apologies for not coming. The conversation then turned to what was under the huge cover in the corner of the bar.
“Miss Molly, would you like to reveal all.” Huggy flamboyantly gestured, ushering her over to the corner of the bar.
“Huggy, it would be my honour.”
Huggy called for silence in the bar and got everyone’s attention for Molly to pull back the cloth unveiling a full-size taxidermy bear. The crowd in the bar cheered and toasted to the new bar mascot.
Huggy explained to Hutch his cousin had gifted it to him. At the base of the bear was a wooden plaque reading, ‘A bear for the Bear.’ His cousin even told him he was lucky to get it, as he’d turned down an offer to buy the bear within days of collecting it. After a couple more drinks, Hutch and Molly left.
Shortly after they left, Huggy was surprised to see Starsky arrive. He sat at the end of the bar, the far end from where the new mascot stood.
“You missed Blondie and his fine lady,” Huggy said, putting a beer in front of him.
“Yeah, I wasn’t gonna come.”
“Man, shoul’ya be ’ere? Yah’ look like you need to hit the hay.”
“Give me a scotch chaser.”
He gave Huggy a couple of notes and told him to keep the drinks flowing. It was unusual for one to be drinking like this alone.
“Hey Curly, I know when not to poke a bear, but you bozos had a bad day?”
“Something like that. Make it a double.”
“That bad?” Huggy watched his friend knock it back. “You’ll not be driving home.”
“Hug, just keep them coming.” Huggy was concerned for his friend. Hutch hadn’t implied there was anything to worry about. But something was clearly wrong with his curly haired friend. “Ya’ wanna talk about it?” Huggy asked, as he put the new drink down.
“Nah, it’s between me and the bears.” Starsky raised his glass to the bear at the end of the bar.
As the evening went on, the bar slowly emptied, leaving Huggy to clear up around the last few remaining drinkers. Starsky had been quiet most of the night, only speaking to order his drinks. Huggy had watered down the last few, for his friend’s own good.
Huggy thought about calling Hutch, but knew he would immediately leave his hot date if he did. Instead, he kept a close eye on his friend. Apart from having more than one too many, he seemed okay.
“Fill it to the brim, old friend.” Starsky’s short glass was raised up high, while his head hung low.
“Bear with me. You’re not my only customer.” Huggy had used that excuse a few times to slow Starsky’s drinking down.
“One for the road,” Starsky slurred out.
“Na not tonight, last call was ya’ last drink. The bar is officially closed, wouldn’t want me to lose my licence?”
“Oh,” Starsky looked round disappointed and surprised that they were the only people in the bar. “Hugz my’ friend. Y’da ever ‘ad bearmares?” Starsky’s hand swayed in front of him, wagging his index finger, as he thought about what he’d said. “No, that’s not right…bitemares.” He pointed his finger jubilantly for a second, before rethinking and swaying it again. “Nop…nightmares.” This time he high fived the air, only to find by lifting his elbow he lost all balance.
“Hey, I think I better get ya’ home, or you can sleep it off upstairs?” Huggy knew the second option would be easier.
“Hugzy Bear…hmm. Up, up, and away, we’ll go!” Starsky swung his arm round, trying to point upstairs as his stool wobbled as he swayed.
“Your accommodation awaits you,” Huggy said, anticipating having to catch his drunken friend.
“Tanks, gotta get out of da’cave.” As Starsky slipped off the stool, Huggy was quick to help him stand. “Round and round the Pits bar, like a teddy bear,” Starsky sung merrily.
“Yeah, yeah. One step, two steps, up the stairs we go.”
Huggy had seen Starsky and Hutch drunk before, but it was rare. It was usually prompted by a bad case. In extreme cases the drowning of sorrows was done in private, but always with their partner’s watchful eye. One would always instinctively hold back and look after the other. Whatever prompted Starsky’s drinking session couldn’t be too bad, as Hutch would never have left him alone. Not even for Molly. Also, Huggy was sure he wouldn’t be dealing with the happy drunk man if it were something terrible.
Huggy nearly called Hutch but thought better of it. It wasn’t like Curly needed him. He managed to help his friend upstairs and sat him down on the edge of the bed. Huggy removed Starsky’s trainers before Starsky brushed his hands away.
“I can do that.”
“Okay, I’ll bring up some water for you.”
He left his friend undressing, humming to himself. When he returned, Starsky was out for the count, laid across the bed in just his underpants. He pulled the bed spread over Starsky.
“Sweet dreams my friend.”
Huggy left, hoping Starsky would sleep through to the morning. He knew they were off for two days, although Huggy wondered if they would be. They could be relentless when they were on a case, often only taking time off only when they caught their suspects. He finished locking up the bar, deciding to call Hutch in the morning at a respectable time to collect his partner.
Chapter 8
Starsky desperately tried to run from the huge bear but kept stumbling in the dark. The damn robe kept catching on his feet until he fell hitting the hard wall of the cave. He tumbled down to the soft ground. Perhaps they couldn’t see him. His hands had work themselves free in the fall, and the dam ‘Simon’ chanting had stopped. Disorientated in the dark, with his head throbbing like hell, he knew he had to escape.
As his breathing calmed down, his head felt worse. Putting his hands on the ground feeling his way he realised he was no longer in the cave. It was soft. He must have made it out of the cave to the grass. ‘It’s not grass! It’s…it’s carpet!’
Relief hit him as he broke free from the nightmare. It took a moment for the tension in his body to melt away with the realisation he was safe. Struggling to get untangled from the bedding, he went to stand but being worse for wear it wasn’t so easy. He remembered he’d crashed at the Pits. Deciding it was the better option; he crawled round the bed until he found the cord for the phone. He dialled Hutch’s number, not even consciously thinking.
“’Lo.”
“Utch, you’z awake.”
“Nooo, what da’ja think? What time is it?”
“Wait there, I’za tell ya…oopsi, di’ji wake you and Molly?”
“She’s not here,” the reply was barely lucid. “You’re drunk!?” Hutch sneered, cradling the phone against his ear.
“Theyr’a back…I er...I,” his partner’s voice tailored off.
“Starsk, who’s back? I’m on my way.” Hutch immediately became alert, worried that Starsky was injured rather than drunk.
“You’ll stop ‘em...prrromise me?” the slurred plea sounded almost childlike and Hutch’s fear for his friend’s safety instantly left him.
“Yeh, I’ll come. We’ll stop them, together,” Hutch said softly. He didn’t know what he would be stopping, or care what the time was any more. All he knew was his friend needed him.
“Me’z att’a Pitzz…I’za been on a bearz hunt!” Starsky softly chuckled.
Hutch imagined his partner sitting with Huggy and the new Pits mascot.
“There’za lot’of them about you know! Had a to…toads to their health.”
“Guess you had a few toasts to their health,” Hutch said, correcting his partner.
“Had to, too late though. Them dead! Bearz ‘ar dead ‘nd stuffed!”
“Well don’t have any more to drink. I’ll come round the back…”
Before he could finish, Starsky interrupted sniggering, “Whatz’a bearz fav...favvvvite pudding?”
Hutch knew his partner wouldn’t listen to him until he gave him the answer. “Don’t know, what is a bear’s favourite pudding?”
“Bluuuebeary pie!” Starsky’s drunken laugh echoed down the phone.
“Buddy, I can’t leave if you keep me on the phone.” It was unusual for either of them to get drunk, and if they did it was always together often to put something behind them. But Hutch had no idea why his partner was in this state but at least he was cheerful.
“Utch, I like pie. Co’ja bring me a pie with ya,” then he burst into song. ‘‘I fouwwnd maaaa frrrill on blue beaary hilll…on blue beaary hill, bluey blue bearrrrry hill.”
“Starsky! Go downstairs and wait for me. DO NOT go back to sleep!”
“I er…beaary sorry for waking ya!”
“Go downstairs, you’d better unlock the backdoor for me.”
“Will do ‘Utch,” he hung up the phone and started humming merrily.
As Hutch drove, he hoped Starsky would make it down the stairs in one piece to open the door for him. He had known something had been playing on his friend’s mind the last few days. Starsky had denied anything was wrong, but his present state clearly proved otherwise.
“Ssshh, don wan’na wake up da’ bear.” Starsky snorted as he stumbled down the last couple of stairs, quickly grabbing the handrail to steady himself. “Wanna be yaaa teddy bear,” his not so dulcet tone filled the bar which only had a glimmer of light in it. “Arh Hugzy left the juke box on, for me and da’ bear.” But abruptly the cop in him kicked in. As intoxicated as he was, he instinctively knew he wasn’t alone. He was vulnerable in the dark, his gun was upstairs and the only thing he could think of was Huggy’s personal security item behind the bar.
It wasn’t hard to play the drunk as he stumbled to reach Huggy’s baseball bat. He knew he was being watched; his eyes were adjusting to the light but couldn’t see anyone. They knew exactly where he was, but they could be anywhere. He hoped he could get back upstairs to his holster. “Back to bed we go, e i e i o.”
As he stepped back out of the bar, a knife hit his upper arm. Whoever was there had no plans of letting him go anywhere.
Lunging forward as he turned back out from behind the bar, he swung the bat at full force. The bat hit the unseen target hard. A shadow moved. He heard the attacker stumble back into the corner. Starsky had him cornered. But suddenly something large and heavy crashed down on him, knocking him and the bat to the floor. His head was pounding as a flash of a large blade came plunging down. He wrestled to get up. It was the damn bear. He was pinned under its weight. Too heavy and bulky to get out from underneath. All he could do was use it as a shield. He felt the force of the blade, but the blade had missed him. It kept crashing down, attacking from different angles. Starsky saw the glimmer of a knife. It must have been the one that had been thrown at his arm. Reaching out for the knife, he feared the large blade would hit him as it repeatedly pounded down.
He managed to move slightly under the bear as it rocked with the onslaught of the attack. The knife was in reach of his fingertips. Stretching a little further, he grasped the knife. That second, the crushing blade pierced through the bear’s arm, into his shoulder. It was too late however to stop him thrusting the knife with all his might into the attacker. He was lucky, he felt the knife’s impact and knew he’d hit the bone above the ankle. That was enough to stop the attacker, who staggered back groaning in pain, knocking tables and chairs to the floor.
Starsky was unable to move. He was pinned down by the long blade, which thankfully the bear had taken the brunt of. But the slightest movement caused the blade to inflict more pain.
‘Hutch, where are you buddy? Need you…need you now.’
He couldn’t move. If the attacker came back for more, Starsky knew his chances would be slim. He heard the creak of the back door and sensed he was now alone. Relief surged through him as he hoped the attacker would run straight into his partner.
Weak and unable to move, the darkness closed in on him. His head was spinning.
‘Must stay awake, Hutch’s on his way, stay awake…must stay awake…gotta…muuuust…’
Chapter 9
Hutch was wondering why his friend had changed his mind about going to the Pits, and why he didn’t call him. Over the last few days, Starsky had been acting a bit strange, even by his standards. He’d asked his friend if anything was wrong, but Starsky said it was nothing. Why he wouldn’t tell him, was beyond him. They talked about everything, but now he’d been woken up at this god forsaking hour, Hutch was determined find out what the problem was. As he started to get annoyed, he pulled his car up at the back of the Pits and saw the back door wide open.
Un-holstering his gun, he cautiously got out of his car. Even drunk as a skunk, he knew Starsky would never leave the door wide open. The light from his car glistened on what looked like a trail of blood leading from the Pits. He crouched down and touched it, confirming his suspicion. Dread now raced through him as to what he would find. Hutch looked round, but there was no sign of anyone. He entered the bar slowly, ‘God let him be okay.’ He warily walked in further. The bar felt still and empty, “Starsky?” It was a whisper, but he knew his partner would hear him if he was in there.
“Utch…Utch.”
Hutch rushed through, hitting the lights on, gun poised. Chairs and tables were sprawled everywhere, there was a trail of blood. Huggy’s baseball bat was on the floor and the barrel had a splatter of blood. But he still couldn’t see Starsky.
“Utch, over here.”
Hutch turned and saw the bear on the floor and coming from underneath was Starsky’s voice and arm.
“Get it off me…pull it out!” Starsky was also struggling with the weight of the bear on him.
For a moment Hutch stared at the large blade going through the bear and into his partner’s bare shoulder. He ran to the bar and returned with a handful of bar towels. Thankfully, the bear had taken the brunt of the blade.
Satisfying himself it was safe to remove the blade, he cautiously pulled the blade out. Pushing the bear to the side, he was now able to see his partner’s injuries. A couple of minor cuts to his arm and stomach, which his partner didn’t seem to be aware of and the shallow but longer cut in the shoulder. He’d been lucky. Then he noticed a small pool of blood forming under Starsky’s curls.
Hutch took his jacket off and covered his partner, who only had his pants on.
“Easy buddy, looks like you knocked that hard head of yours.”
“Tha’ bear hit me!”
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Keep ‘em still?”
“Okay, gotta leave you a min and get you help.” Hutch gently pushed a curl away from his partner’s eye. “Stay awake for me.” Hutch didn’t once take his eyes off his friend as he phoned it in from the bar phone. He then quickly called Huggy. “Starsky, keep your eyes open.” Hutch said, firmly from the phone.
“Me cold.”
Hutch heard the pain in the voice as well. “Don’t move buddy. I’ll get a blanket.”
Hutch ran upstairs and was gently laying the blanket over his partner before Starsky realised, he’d been left. “Help’s on its way.”
“Wot happened?”
“You remember calling me?”
“Yeah, open…back…door.” Starsky was struggling to keep his eyes open.
“Don’t go to sleep, buddy.”
“Yeeeah, he was killing ta’ bear…to get ta me.”
Hutch looked at the bear noticing the damage. “Come on Starsky, stay with me.”
“Porridge…and honey?”
His partner’s eyes were dilated, and Hutch knew he had to keep him conscious. “Starsky, stay awake! What about porridge and honey?”
“’Ed hurts.”
“I know, buddy,” Hutch gently stroked his partner’s forehead.
“Three dead bears, three dead bears…see how they run…” slurred out softly like a familiar nursery rhyme. “I ‘ate bears.”
“You hate bears?” Hutch kept talking to his partner, keeping him from falling asleep.
“Don’t hate Hugzy,” amazingly as if on cue, Huggy almost flew into the bar.
“Hey man, looks like ya’ done more than tango with ta bear.”
“Hugz…zorry, tried to stop him.”
“Hey, nought to be sorry about, relax.”
Huggy pushed the bear aside to crouch down to Starsky. As he did, stuffing and a large crimson velvet pouch fell out. Huggy pulled open the silk cord and whistled loudly, causing Starsky to wince.
“Sorry!” Huggy showed the open pouch to Hutch. “Any chance on finders’ keepers?!” Hutch’s look said it all. “Settle for a finder’s award!” Huggy added quickly.
It didn’t take long for the paramedics and back up to arrive, taking over the scene. Dobey had been notified of the significant find. The pouch that Huggy found was full of diamonds.
As the paramedics were prepping Starsky for transport, he reached out to his partner, “Utch, need me gun ‘nd badge.”
“I’ve got ‘em, buddy.”
“Me clothes?”
“Yes, and your watch.”
“You’ll come?”
“How else would you get your gun, badge, clothes and watch?” He found his partner’s order of priority amusing and strangely comforting.
“Oh yeh, tanxs.”
Huggy joined Hutch in the hospital waiting room. The formidable matron had made it quite clear, if they kept out the way she would keep them update on Starsky’s condition.
“Huggy, you didn’t need to come.”
“Had to! I should ‘av stopped serving him.”
“The drink didn’t cause this. Did he say why he was drinking?”
“I guess Curly’s need for inebriation was due to his nightmares.” Huggy knew normally there was little his two friends didn’t share. But clearly by Hutch’s reaction, the nightmares were news to him. “Something to do with bears.”
“Bears! He never…they’re back!’” That’s what Starsky had meant. Hutch threw his hands up in frustration with himself. “You wouldn’t know.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“Remember when Simon’s followers snatched him?”
“Man, do I!”
“Yeah, he’d been drugged and attacked by a bear at the old zoo.”
“Man, da’bear in the bar.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?” Hutch paused, “he joked and sang about bears; but he was drunk! Three bears, he said three!”
“Why three bears?” Hutch spoke softly thinking, then recalled Starsky’s reaction to the study at the Hudson’s house.
Confused, Huggy looked at his blond friend. “Three bears? He said something about honey bears to me.”
“That’s IT! Three bears. The study, the shop was covered in honey and yours. One containing a pouch of diamonds.”
He’d missed something so obvious, why hadn’t Starsky mentioned it. As anger rose in him for not noticing the connection, his thoughts were interrupted by the doctor and nurse entering the waiting room.
“Detective, your partner is doing fine. His wounds are superficial, the shoulder wound is a little deeper and took more stitches. His ribs are bruised and may ache and there’s minimal risk of concussion. He’s suffering a little, but he’s adamant it’s only because he overindulged in a bar last night. He is asking for you, but I warn you we will not discharge him until we are satisfied there’s no concussion and that someone will be with him for the next 24 hours.”
Huggy followed them to the recovery room but only looked in to see Starsky briefly before leaving his two friends.
Chapter 10
Starsky drifted off into a peaceful deep sleep knowing his partner was by his side. But after only a few hours he was wide awake, as if he’d slept for days.
There was a knock on the door and Captain Dobey entered the hospital room.
“How are you feeling, Starsky?”
“I’m fine. Doc said I can leave in a little while.” Even though he didn’t feel great, he thought he was doing a decent job of hiding it.
“Hutch?” Dobey asked, waiting for confirmation. He knew they hated hospitals, but that Hutch wouldn’t allow him to leave the hospital unless the Doctor had agreed to it.
“Couple of stitches, bruised ribs and I’ll watch out for any signs of concussion. They’re observing him for a while before discharging him.” Hutch wanted to add the self-inflicted hang over but thought better off it.
“See, like I said!” Starsky added, although looking a bit green round the gills.
“Hhmm,” Dobey sensed there was more to it, but didn’t push it. “We’ve traced where and when the diamonds were stolen from. It was four and half years ago, Charlie’s pulling the records.”
“Capt’n, could you give us a lift to the Pits?”
“Starsk!” Neither Hutch’s nor Dobey’s displeased look deterred him. “My car’s there, where’s yours?!” Starsky said, knowing dam well Hutch’s car would still be there.
Before Hutch could answer, the door opened. “My Capitan. Any news on a finder’s reward?”
Dobey looked sternly at Huggy as he entered the room.
“No! It’s one thing being their Captain. I am not and will never be your Captain!”
“Arrrgh come on Hug, stop holding out on me.” Starsky shifted in his bed sniffing the air. “Hmm real food and coffee!”
“One thing’s for sure, there’s nothing wrong his appetite,” Dobey briskly added.
“Take a lot to impact that Capt’n.” Hutch stood and took the bag from Huggy, checking the contents before passing it to his friend.
“I’ll leave you to it. Hutch, keep me informed.”
“Will do, Capt’n.”
“You’d be wanting to know where my cous’ got my fine furry friend from,” Huggy said, once Dobey left. “Lieu of payment, all legit from an auctioneer. It was part of a job lot from an art gallery.”
Huggy pulled out a piece of paper with the auctioneer house details and gave it to Hutch.
“Hey buddy, no surprise there.” Starsky paused to open one of the drink containers. “What the hell?!” Disgruntledly, he held out the lidded container.
“I’m no doc, but last night you were three sheets to the wind. Trust me, when I say this will cure all forms of hangovers known to man. You’ll thank me later.”
Starsky took the lid off again. He held his nose with one hand and knocked back the concoction shaking his head with disgust.
“Hard to think anyone would thank you for that!” he grimaced, immediately taking a large swig of coffee.
That afternoon they headed to the squad room; Hutch kept a close eye on Starsky who surprisingly apart from his ribs slightly aching seemed fine. Starsky had been adamant about going in to look at the files of the original jeweller’s heist. Hutch took the opportunity to telephone the health shop, who confirmed they’d bought their display bear from the same auction room. Speaking with Mr Hudson, he confirmed his father often hired out the bears and other items, to studios, museums, and exhibitions.
Dobey called them into his office. He had been able to confirm the John Doe found behind the art studio had now been identified as Jerry Rowe, known as Jerry the Gem. His previous prison records and the original morgue report description of tattoos had matched. They knew that one of the partners, probably Jerry, had hidden the pouch in a bear at the exhibition. For a man with his breaking in skills, the studio at night would have been easy. He had not trusted his partner and hidden the pouch. There were several connected unsolved break-ins at jewellers over two years with similar patterns which had suddenly stopped four and half years ago at the time of his murder.
Huggy’s information that one partner had murdered the other, fell in line with their findings and his recent release from prison had started the hunt for the last stash of stolen good. He must have known the stash was in a bear. But there had been three bears at the exhibition and so he had had to track the location of each of the three bears. He’d broken into the house where he had been interrupted and murdered George Scott. Then he’d traced the next one at the shop, and finally Huggy’s bear at the Pits.
They didn’t have much to go on, but knew he was now injured and would either be seeking medical assistance or laying low. However, they still had a pile of files to go through to identify him.
“Hutch, go take your partner home. Get a fresh start in the morning.” Dobey nodded his head in Starsky’s direction, who they could both see was fighting to keep his eyes open.
“Will do Capt’n.” Hutch realised the ordeal had caught up on Starsky.
“Wrap this up and quick. I really don’t want Agnes over again,” Dobey added in jest.
“Argh…Capt’n, she does make good cookies,” Starsky yawned out.
“Starsky, you need to go home and rest up,” Dobey replied softly, knowing Agnes cooking wasn’t a touch on his wife’s.
Chapter 11
First thing in the morning, Starsky and Hutch visited Huggy at the Pits. Starsky almost bounced in, feeling better than he had since the case had started. Hutch staying overnight on his settee, in case of concussion, had subconsciously kept Starsky’s nightmares at bay. Starsky was now thinking how ironically, in a sense, the bear had saved his life by taking the brunt of the attack. Hutch, however, shuddered as they reached the bar; the image of finding Starsky on the floor coming to mind.
They discussed with Huggy which local fences would be interested in artwork. Mr Hudson had informed them that he and his wife had realised a box of paintings had been stolen. They hadn’t realised initially as these were boxed up.
With a bit of persuading Huggy agreed to contact a certain person and get back to them if he knew anything, only with the agreement of no further police involvement. They agreed, knowing the Hudsons didn’t care about the return of the pictures. Their main interest was to help the police get the person who murdered their friend.
Leaving the Pits, they called on the shop owner, who had run the art studio. He recalled the art exhibition with the three bears. It had been one of his favourites. He showed them the painting that he had bought from the event. He also lent them a photo album from the exhibition.
He recalled how he’d even had a call about two months ago from someone interested in the exhibition. A woman who’d attended the event all those years ago. She had bought a painting and wanted to track down the artist for additional pieces of his work. He remembered her, as she’d asked about the props at the exhibition, particularly the bears. He recalled mentioning one was hired but explained the elder Mr Hudson had recently passed away. Having recently cleared out his storage of exhibition pieces, he’d explained how he’d sold the other two through an auction house.
This information meant they now knew there was a woman helping the suspect track down the bears. Unintentionally, by telling her Mr Hudson’s name and that he had recently passed away, the shop owner had helped her find the first bear. She would have easily found his obituary to trace the funeral details and tracked down his address.
Heading to the auctioneer house, Hutch sensed his partner was deep in thought. “Starsk, I can feel you thinking from here. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing?”
“Starsk, last time I let it ride. You got hurt so spill!”
“Okay, but don’t laugh! I was wondering why do we give kids teddy bears? I mean, bears are scary.”
“I know, buddy. I believe it started when President Roosevelt, known as Teddy, was on a hunt and refused to shoot a bear. He let it go free, then they started making Teddy bears.”
“Oh, good for him!” Starsky was genuinely impressed by the act of kindness.
They arrived at the auctioneer house, and the owner immediately recalled he had used one as part payment in lieu of decorating. They knew that that was the Pits bear. He had to refer to his auction catalogue to confirm the other bear was delivered to a health store. Somehow the suspects had managed to get both the new owners’ details.
Back in the Torino they were discussing the case when they received a message to call Huggy. Huggy’s contact had confirmed a woman had tried to sell two paintings which matched the description of the stolen paintings. He’d described her as a little under five foot, slim, well-dressed, and with raven black hair.
“Hey Hutch, sounds like a little widow we called on.”
“Supposed widow,” Hutch added, as he asked to be patched through to Dobey who called them back to precinct.
Chapter 12
Once in Dobey’s office, they explained their suspicions that Agnes was not a widow, and it was her husband who was the suspect they were looking for. Their concern was that after Starsky had stabbed him, he couldn’t go to hospital and was likely to be at the house with her taking care of him. He could be in her house right now, next to Dobey’s home - with Edith and the children next door.
Dobey called Edith telling her he was coming home early. He had never warmed to Agnes which he’d always felt bad about, particularly as she was a widow. But now he felt vindicated that his police instinct had influenced how he had felt about her. He checked with Edith if Agnes’s car was on her drive and told her, not to let Agnes in the house if she called.
Dobey parked up on his driveway as normal, opening his car door wide to allow Starsky, who was hidden, to get out unseen. They were concerned Agnes would be watching the street. Starsky went through Dobey’s house to the back garden and waited. It wasn’t long until Starsky heard Hutch’s car.
He quietly climbed over Dobey’s back garden fence into Agnes’s garden, crept up to the back door where he could see into her kitchen. He ducked down as he saw Agnes supporting their limping suspect through the kitchen and out of his sight to the utility room. Starsky quietly checked the back door, which thankfully wasn’t locked.
She had clearly seen Hutch pull the car up outside the house. He was calling on the pretence of returning the plate she had given them with the cookies on.
“Detective Hutchinson, how nice of you to call but I’m about to leave for an appointment.”
“This won’t take a moment, can I come in?”
“I would love you to, but this isn’t a good time.”
“Oh, but it really won’t take a minute.” Hutch noticed a small smudge of blood on her patterned blouse and stepped in.
“Let me take that from you officer.” She stepped in front of him guiding him into the lounge as she took the plate from his hand. “Please can we make this quick, I really do need to leave.”
“Thank you, we wanted to let you know we have a lead on the case.” He watched her reaction and heard a noise from the back of the house.
At the back of the house, Starsky watched the man limp back into sight. He was carrying a large kitchen knife, ready to attack if Hutch approached him. He stood silently waiting and listening to the conversation taking pace in the lounge.
“Police, drop the knife,” Starsky shouted, swiftly entering the kitchen. His gun was aimed directly at the suspect. “Don’t try it!”
Agnes’s eyes widened and she stood frozen, staring at Hutch.
“As I said Agnes, we have a lead. Or should I call you Mrs Patricia Wilcox.”
Dobey joined them in the house and took pleasure supporting his detectives. Both Mr and Mrs Wilcox were cuffed and read their rights. Starsky and Hutch searched the property, finding a large case of cash with the stolen paintings.
“You stupid broad, trust you to choose a house right next to the Captain of Police!”
“How was I to know? You were the one who killed your partner before knowing where he hid the stash. Oh, and then got sent down for a crime you didn’t even commit!”
“Shut that mouth of yours, you never could stay silent!” her husband yelled.
The couple argued and shouted the whole way to the precinct. Starsky and Hutch wished the couple had taken the right to remain silent. However, at least they had more than enough to arrest and charge them both on.
Agnes had never known George. She had lied to find out what they knew about the murder. The tears had been crocodile tears, or due to the onions. The excessive cooking was for her husband who’d been living on prison food for the last few years. They’d both sung like birds trying to get the best deals for themselves.
Starsky and Hutch returned to their desks, drained from the interviews.
“It’s a crime, someone who bakes like her! What a waste!”
“Finished that report, Gordo.”
Dobey stepped out of his office looking more than happy for a change. “Starsky, Hutch, you’re not busy tonight, are you?”
“You busy, Starsky?”
“No, I’m not busy, Hutch. Are you busy?”
“No, I’m not busy,”
Dobey was clearly getting frustrated, “Cut it out the pair of you!”
“No, we’re not busy, Capt’n,” Starsky promptly replied.
“Excellent. I’ll let Edith know. She’s going to cook up a special meal.”
“Why didn’t you say?” Starsky beamed with excitement. “Great, you know how I feel about Edith’s cooking.”
“Once those reports are done you can knock off but be at mine for 6pm.”
“Hey Hutch…”
“Hey yourself.”
“I think we need another look at Agnes’s place.”
“Starsk, what on earth for?”
“Er, we may have overlooked some vital evidence.”
“I get it, you want her recipe book. Don’t you?!”
“Not like she’s gonna need it where she’s going.”
Later that evening, little Rosie opened the Dobey’s door with her father. “Uncle Starsky, Uncle Hutch! Mom’s made special blueberry pie today!”
“That sound lovely,” Hutch replied as Starsky hesitated.
“After dinner, we can have a teddy bears’ picnic in the garden. You will join me, won’t you?”
As if anyone could refuse such a sweet invite from her.
“Yes, yes we wil,” Hutch said enthusiastically as he nudged Starsky.
“Er yes…will we get extra pie, for the bears?” Starsky asked, winking and picking up Rosie to go inside.
“I’ll ask Mom. She did make two of the biggest pies I’ve ever seen!”
Dobey knew if anyone could get extra pie from Edith, it would be Rosie and Starsky. “I hope I’m invited too!”
“Course you are daddy. You’re my biggest, cuddliest bear ever!” Dobey’s eyes flashed a warning look at his two detectives.
“That’s right, your daddy is one big soft teddy bear, or captain bear,” Starsky mocked, quickly turning away from Dobey, with Hutch hot on his heels.
Dobey was about to grumble when Rosie replied, “Like Captain America?”
“Of course!” Starsky responded convincingly, twirling Rosie round to face her father who was everything to his little princess.
“Bear Hug,” Rosie giggled out loudly, squeezing Starsky tight as she could. “Bear hug time!”
“Bear hug time!” Starsky held her firmly, while he walked spinning them both around, finally finishing with a swooping dip, that finished with landing on the settee.
The End