I was watching Starsky out of the corner of my eye. I was driving on the way to a call after we had finished testifying in a trial of an accused rapist. We needed to make this appearance in court; this was the third rape trial this guy had been through, with the other two trials resulting in not guilty verdicts due to pretty flimsy evidence. He was guilty of those crimes, and he was clearly guilty of this one, and this time we had hard evidence, and the testimony of the victim. Starsky and I were to testify regarding the evidence and the crime scene, and the prosecutor wanted both of us there to make the case.
Starsky had been struggling with a viral infection, and he wasn't recovered by the time I had to pick him up for the trial. He had spent the last three days at home, sick as a dog. He didn't even want me around and I know how he felt. When you're that sick that you're spending more of your time in the bathroom than anywhere else, it's just too much of a personal invasion to have people around witnessing it. So I left him alone, mostly. But I checked in on my partner at lunch and after work over the last few days just to make sure I couldn't do something for him, and just to remind him that I was there for him in case he did need anything.
I hated seeing him like this. He had gotten over the worst of it, the diarrhea was gone for the most part, and the fever was not quite as high. Both of them had been severe the first day and the doctor considered admitting him. Starsky was adamant that he would recover better at home. And considering the amount of time he had spent in and out of hospitals following the shooting, his doctors were more inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt where hospitalization was concerned.
He was still weak and not keeping much food down. He really wasn't recovered enough to be doing this. But Starsky knew there was no postponing the trial for his illness, and he recognized the importance of getting a conviction, so he would not have used his sickness as an excuse to not show up anyway. So we spent our time waiting outside the courtroom door, just in case Starsky needed to use the facilities quickly.
We were called in to testify and we got through the questions from both the prosecutor and the defense attorney pretty quickly. Today was going to be a short day for the trial, as the judge had announced that he had a previous engagement in the afternoon that he could not break. The trial was adjourned until Monday, so I got my partner out of the courthouse right after our testimony.
"How're you feeling, buddy?" He looked terrible, and I could tell that he was riding a really bad wave of nausea. I know he hadn't eaten since dinner last night, and much of that had made its way back up. Even if he got sick right now, it wouldn't result in much except for some miserable dry heaves.
"Sick. Take me home, huh?" We got in my car and immediately received a call from Dobey.
"Yeah Cap, whaddya got?" My partner responded as I drove toward his place.
"Starsky, I need you and Hutch to go to the public library branch in The Greenery." I could hear the reluctance in our captain's voice as he made the directive. I grabbed the mike from my partner.
"Captain, we just finished testifying and you know Starsky's still sick. Let me take him home and I'll get there as soon as I can."
"Hutch!" Starsky grabbed the microphone back. "Cap'n, this is Starsky. We're headin' over. Our ETA is about ten minutes."
"Good. Sorry about this, but I could really use you two on this one." I'm sure there was a good reason for needing us to be there. I couldn't wait to hear what it was.
"That's all right Cap'n. Can you tell us anything?" Starsky wiped the sweat that had accumulated on his too pale brow.
"A possible hostage situation. Silent alarm. That's all I know. I'll be heading over soon. See you there."
Starsky put the mike in its cradle and put his head back in the seat.
"Starsk, why'd you do that? You know you're not feeling up to this yet. You could have a relapse, you know. You shouldn't fool around with this thing." I would have gotten an earful if my partner had been feeling at all better. But all I got was, "Cap needs us. Let's just see what we can do, huh?" He looked at me with those piercing eyes, confident in the knowledge that I would do as he said.
We headed to a branch of the Bay City Public Library that was in one of the more interesting sections of the city. There were a lot of run-down, vacant buildings interspersed with renovated blocks and some businesses that were able to eke out a living in the hopes that the rejuvenation of this neighborhood would continue. There were a number of apartment buildings in the area that should have been condemned a long time ago, and still others that were wonderfully restored. Trash still littered many side streets and alleys in the approximately fifteen square block section of town known as "The Greenery". It was an ironic name, considering there wasn't a patch of grass and hardly any trees to be seen in the area. That would hopefully change as progress continued in the area.
We pulled up on a side street just down from the library. The area leaned heavily black and Hispanic, racially speaking, and poor, but the transformation of the area was bringing younger couples of many different races and significantly higher incomes. There was also a fair amount of poor immigrants of varying nationalities living in the area.
We approached the area and found a number of black and whites on the opposite side of the street, across from the building. The library was housed in an unfortunate building, lots of glass and concrete and a sorry excuse for "modern" architecture. We walked up to one of the uniforms.
"So, what have we got Bob?" Bob Hanover was an experienced beat cop and was apparently the first on the scene with his partner Greg Adams. They were both behind their squad car; it looked like they may have had to take cover at some point.
Hanover gave us the rundown. "Hey, Hutch, looks like we've got a hostage situation in the library. Don't know much more than when we got here at least one shot had been fired, according to at least two witnesses. We haven't talked to all the witnesses yet. We haven't gotten a look at the shooter and we don't know how many people are in the building. As you can see, the guy has everyone away from the windows. We haven't seen anybody since the first shot was fired about twenty minutes ago."
"Okay. We need to get some information." Starsky started. "Get on the horn to the main library. We need to know who is working in there, and we need someone to bring us keys to all the entrances. Find out who's in charge and if they're working right now. If not, get them down here now. We need a phone number. Also, find out what the regular business hours are."
"So, what's next partner?" He asked me. I think he was looking for me to run this one, but he was not going to allow me to coddle him through this either.
"Well, we're going to need some more black and whites to keep the area cordoned off. We don't need some turkey strolling in and making things worse than they are. I'm going to start interviewing some of these people and see if anybody knows anything. Can you get some of the uniforms to do the same?"
"Yeah." Starsky headed for the LTD to call for more back up. I watched him walk away. Starsky's a good cop and a pro. I could see his demeanor change; he was ready to do the work, no matter how bad he felt. I headed to a crowd of people huddled nearby on the opposite side of the street from the library.
"Anybody here see anything?" I asked. There were a half dozen or so people just standing around waiting for something to happen. Chances were good that at least one of them had seen something.
"Yes, officer, I saw the man enter the library." A brunette woman about forty years old stepped up.
"Could I have your name please?"
"Emily Graves. I work at the clinic a block and a half from here. I'm the receptionist there. I was on my way back from a late lunch." Okay, I really didn't need her life story.
"Can you give me a description of the man?"
"He's short, about 5'6"-5'7" at most, young, probably twenty-five, dirty blond hair in a ponytail."
We were off to a good start. "Do you remember what he was wearing?"
"Um, blue jeans and I think a blue denim shirt. Shirt was tucked in. No belt. Boots, like hiking boots, dark. I don't know if they were brown or black." It seemed like Miss Graves was either really observant or had some previous experience with needing to provide identification before. Observations like these were a major reason our rape case would be going our way. The victim had been keenly aware throughout her ordeal of remembering every detail she could.
"Did you happen to see his weapon?" I know I was asking a lot here, but she really seemed to have been at the right place, witness-wise. And she had kept her head about her.
"I don't know a lot about guns, but it looked like a pretty big hand gun. Black. Really big."
I pulled out my Python. "Anything like this?" I asked.
"Yeah, a lot like that." That was not good. The Python is a serious weapon and should only be used by an experienced handler. It's a dangerous and deadly weapon.
"Did you see any other weapon? Was he carrying anything else?"
"He had a backpack. Dark blue or black." That could mean more weapons, definitely more ammo.
"Okay. Anything else you can think of that might be important?"
"No, nothing I can think of."
"Uh, officer, I saw something that seemed strange." A teenager, male, probably about fifteen or sixteen, walked closer to me from the outside of the group.
"Yep, you're name?" He seemed a little skittish when I asked for his name.
"Uh, do you need that? I'm supposed to be in school. I skipped the rest of the day to meet my girlfriend." He was standing real close to a blonde girl of about the same age. "We were gonna study at the library together for our biology test. I only missed a study hall and gym, but if my parents find out they're gonna kill me."
"It depends on what you have to say, but unless we need you in court your parents won't need to find out. But I really do need to know your name." He seemed like a good kid. I'm sure we'd do whatever we could to keep him out of trouble with his parents.
"David Means. I'm a junior at Downey High."
"Okay, what did you see that seemed strange?"
"Well, the guy that the lady was describing? I saw him earlier talking with someone on the sidewalk right in front of the library. Then the person he was talking to walked into the library and I saw her wave at the guy from inside. Then he walked in and I saw him fire a shot into the ceiling. We ran across the street at that point. I thought he might start aiming out on the sidewalk."
"All right. Did the description Miss Graves gave match up with the guy you saw?"
"Yep. Dressed in blue, blond hair, ponytail. The gun looked just like yours."
"How about the girl? Do you remember what she looked like?"
"I think she had long hair, brown, I think. She was wearing a dress, but I don't remember what it looked like." He seemed sorry that he didn't have that detail.
"Height, was she wearing glasses, anything else?" We were probably lucky to get what we got on this possible accomplice.
"No, I'm sorry, I don't remember. I'm sorry."
"That's okay, David. You did fine. How about you?" I addressed the girlfriend. "Did you see anything?"
"No, I was facing David. I wasn't looking toward the library. All I know is I heard the gun shot and then David grabbed me and dragged me across the street." She seemed flustered and scared. David grabbed her around the waist and hugged her.
"I hope he doesn't hurt anybody." David said. He looked sincerely disturbed by the event unfolding.
Starsky walked up at that moment. "Thanks." I said to the threesome. "I'm going to have a uniformed officer come over here and get your names, addresses and phone numbers." I turned to Starsky and we both walked away from the group. "Anything?" I asked him.
"Yeah. Short to medium height, white, blond hair in a ponytail, blue jeans and blue shirt. Carrying a backpack and a big gun."
"Same here. One of my witnesses described someone who might be an accomplice on the inside."
"Terrific." Starsky nodded behind me. I turned to look and saw Dobey pulling up. We walked over to meet our captain.
"Okay, what have we got?" Dobey asked as he walked past us, obviously heading for a position that would allow a good overall view of the area.
"We know that we have one, maybe two people inside, male and female, male suspect has an automatic. We're waiting on a report from the main library for more information." I gave Dobey the rundown. He nodded, then looked to Starsky and quickly back to me with a questioning look, silently asking if my partner was okay. I know it's hard to tell sometimes, with his bellowing and gruff manner, but Dobey is concerned for our welfare, whether it's caring about us out on the streets or recuperating from a cold or flu. I gave him a brief nod of my head, telling him that my partner was doing okay.
Bob Hanover walked up to us. "Afternoon, Captain. Okay, the head librarian is Melanie Harris and she's on her way down. She was not working today. She's bringing keys. She also was going to call the head custodian in early. She said there would be about four paid employees working this afternoon and anywhere from five to ten volunteers. She said usually on a Thursday afternoon there could be upwards of twenty-five people in the library, including employees. This is one of the smaller, less busy branches of the public library system. It closes at seven PM." We looked at our watches. That was over four hours from now. "I've got several phone numbers here if we need them. There are several direct lines and a main number."
Captain Dobey turned to Starsky and me. "What's the game plan?"
"I think we need to try to make contact now and see what their plan is." I replied. We would need the librarian or the custodian to give us a better feel for the building.
"Okay. As soon as the head librarian gets here we'll find out which number to try first. We might as well know as much as we can before we talk to this guy." It had been completely quiet on the library side of the street since we arrived. I was beginning to wonder if there was really a problem here. Sometimes people see things that really aren't there.
"It's too quiet." Starsky said. "Yeah," I had to agree. And since no one was coming out of the building, we had to assume we really did have a situation on our hands.
More squad cars were filling the periphery of the area. Starsky went to coordinate their respective assignments. Greg Adams was escorting some people to Dobey and me.
Adams made the introductions. "Captain Dobey and Sergeant Hutchinson, this is Melanie Harris, the head librarian, and Arthur Marks, the head custodian for the library system." They both looked serious and anxious.
"Hi. Thanks for getting here so quickly. First, Miss Harris?" I asked.
"Mrs. Harris, but you can call me Melanie." She looked like she wanted to cry.
"Melanie, I'm going to give you a description of the person who entered the library and fired off at least one shot that we are aware of. Tell me if you recognize the description." I proceeded to give the description as provided by several witnesses. Melanie Harris went immediately pale and said, "Oh my God."
"You recognize this person?" I asked.
"Yes. He, he sounds like Stephen Summers. He's the boyfriend of one of our assistant librarians. Why would he come in to the library with a gun? Oh my God."
"Melanie, is Summers' girlfriend working today?"
"Yes. Stacy Fitzgerald is her name. She would have come in around two o'clock today." That time seemed to match the approximate time that David Means had said he saw the suspect meet with a woman in front of the library.
"Can you give me a description of Miss Fitzgerald?" I was pretty sure what she would say. At the same time I looked to Bob Hanover, and he headed to another squad car to call in for priors on Summers and Fitzgerald.
"Long brown hair, twenty-six years old, about five feet six inches talk. Nice figure. She's a pretty girl." The head librarian was looking worried. "Why do you ask?"
"Because we believe that the suspect met with Miss Fitzgerald on the sidewalk just in front of the building and then gave a signal, an all clear, for him to enter the building."
"You think that Stacy and Stephen are in on this together? What would they want? I can't believe that Stacy would take part in anything like this." Melanie Harris seemed sincere; I hated to destroy her faith in her employee, and possible friend, but it seemed unlikely that Stacy Fitzgerald was anything other than an active participant in whatever was going on in that library today.
I decided that speculation was not going to help and changed direction, pursuing an angle for getting in to the building. "Mr. Marks, how many ways can you get in to the building?"
"There are two entrances the public can use, one in front here, and one from the Second Street side of the building. Then, we have a service entrance down the alley over there." He pointed to the left side of the building. We could see a small alley, just big enough for a large delivery truck to make its way down. "There's a fire exit in the back, which is locked from the outside. So is the service entrance."
"Okay. And you have the keys for the service entrance and the fire exit with you?"
"Sure do. Do you want to know about the water main?"
"What about the water main?" I hoped this was relevant information; we needed to get cracking on making contact.
"Just outside the fire entrance in the back, there's a manhole that accesses the water main for this area. There's a tunnel from there that leads into the basement of the library."
"Really? Why? Never mind why." There was no time for why right now, although my curiosity would not let that alone once this situation was resolved. "And we could get access to this?" This was our best bet if we had to infiltrate the building.
"Sure. The manhole cover isn't locked. We've been after the Public Works department for years to get a lock on it. It's a good thing nobody really knows about it."
"I assume you keep the entrance to the basement locked, and you brought that key too."
Marks pulled out a huge set of keys from his jacket pocket. "I got all the keys, officer."
Starsky joined us again. "Thanks, Mr. Marks. Would you and Mrs. Harris please just stand over here for a minute?" They both walked to where I directed them. I huddled with my partner and Dobey.
"Perimeter is secured." Starsky started. He was sweating excessively. He looked really bad. Damn it. Why wouldn't he let me take him home? I tried to not let my concern for my partner distract me from the job at hand, but Starsky was making it very hard to do that.
"Good." Dobey said, looking at Starsky with concern. "Let's get started." Dobey directed his next comment at me. "I assume you're ready to make contact with the suspect?"
"Yeah. Is dispatch ready for us?" I asked Bob Hanover. His squad car was nearest our makeshift headquarters. He had returned previously with the information that there were no known priors on Stephen Summers or Stacy Fitzgerald.
"They just need the number." He replied.
"Okay. Get the number from Mrs. Harris." I stepped over to Starsky and talked to him quietly.
"You okay?" I looked my partner in the eyes. I could tell he was having an inner struggle on how to answer the question. Starsky's a terrible liar, and he knows it.
"Hutch, come on. We got a job to do. I'm feelin' like crap, but I'll survive. Let's go start this call." He smacked my back lightly and I followed him over to the squad car.
We overheard the last of the conversation between Hanover and Mrs. Harris. "I would try this one. It's the main number and we always answer the phone up until we close."
"Okay. Thanks. Just hang back there for now." Starsky directed her toward the custodian.
"Dispatch, patch me through to 555-4545." I waited the moments it took for the connection, and then I could hear the phone ringing. It rang three times, and then I looked up at Mrs. Harris. She looked surprised that there had been no answer yet. Then the phone rang a fourth and fifth time, and finally an answer.
"Hello, Bay City Public Library, the Greenery extension. May I help you?"
"That's Maggie McGough, our receptionist." I heard Mrs. Harris say softly behind me.
"Hello. This is Detective Sergeant Kenneth Hutchinson with the Bay City Police Department. We're outside and we understand that there is a situation in the building. Are you okay?" I didn't receive an answer immediately and then another voice came on the line. A man's voice.
"Hey. Is this the cops?"
"Yes, this is Detective Sergeant Hutchinson with the BCPD. Who's this?"
"My name's Steve and I want to talk to the mayor."
"Okay, Steve. I can't just call the mayor down here without telling him why he's being called. Can you tell me what you want?"
"I want to talk to the mayor!" He was sounding pretty agitated.
"Steve, tell me why you want to see the mayor and maybe we can work something out." I tried to keep my voice calm and use a very deliberate manner with him; this usually helped to keep the situation from escalating.
"I, I don't have to tell you that. But I am prepared to start hurting people in here if you don't get me the mayor right away." I heard something in that statement that was curious.
"Steve, can you give me a few minutes to speak with my superiors. I promise I'll call you back in ten minutes."
"Uh, okay, ten minutes. But I swear I will start hurting people if I don't get what I want." He hung up and I turned to Starsky and Dobey.
"Did you hear that?" I directed my question to my partner.
"Yeah. You think we should stall him and get in there?" Starsky replied.
"What are you two talking about? Did you hear what?" Dobey had not read what we did from the exchange.
"Captain, the guy said, 'I'm prepared to start hurting people'. Not killing people. I don't think he intends to hurt or kill anyone."
"Hutchinson, that's a bit of a leap, don't you think?" Dobey definitely was not buying it.
"Cap'n," Starsky started, "We've been through enough of these situations to be able to read a suspect pretty good. This guy didn't have the tone in his voice of a killer. And he pretty much told us he wasn't gonna kill anybody. He's probably just looking to make a statement."
"Starsky, I've been through a lot more of these than you. You don't think I can read the tone of a suspect?"
Starsky seemed taken aback by the anger in Dobey's response. So was I.
"Captain, is there something you know that we don't?" I was beginning to feel that information was being withheld from us. I didn't like thinking that; Dobey had always been, except for rare occasions, pretty up front with us.
Dobey looked from me to Starsky and then back to me. He took his handkerchief out and wiped the sweat from his face. "Not a lot. But, the mayor's office received a call last week from someone who wanted to meet with him and his office was unable to schedule the meeting. This person wanted to discuss alleged police brutality by the BCPD, the continued jailing of Nelson Mandela in South Africa and any number of other human rights abuses around the world. The person on the phone became agitated and made threats to the public. There was nothing to be done. We had no specifics." The fact was that he was right; there was nothing that could have been done to prevent something like this with such little information. That did not stop him from feeling badly that he had the knowledge but could do nothing with it.
"Okay. Well, here's what I think we ought to do." My partner seemed ready to move forward, and probably into the building. I had to agree that the tactic was sound for the situation at hand.
"I think Hutch and I ought to get in to the building through the basement. Cap'n, you'll need to stall Summers, tell him that the Mayor is on his way back from a meeting out of town or somethin'. I think with the two of us inside we'll be able to subdue the two of them, if it is both of 'em."
The captain looked at me. "I think it's our best option. We should take advantage and try to grab them now and not let this go on too long. The longer this is allowed to go on, the more either agitated he'll get, or confident that he'll get what he wants. Neither scenario is any good." I saw Hanover out of the corner of my eye. "Excuse me a minute." I walked away from Dobey and Starsky and spoke with Bob Hanover.
"Bob, can you arrange to get some sandwiches sent in, some for the people in the library and for us?" Starsky hadn't eaten since dinner, and I hadn't had lunch and this could drag on through dinner. Even though my partner was still sick, he still needed to try to eat something or he'd soon be feeling lightheaded, and that could be dangerous.
"Sure Hutch. We're thinking enough food for about what, forty or so people?"
"Yeah. Fast. Get ours here now. The food for the hostages can wait a little longer. Thanks." Bob was off to do his usual efficient job.
I walked back to Starsky and Dobey. "What was that all about?" Dobey asked.
"I wanted Bob to got some food over for the hostages. You can use the food to keep Summers occupied for a time. I also needed to get a bite for me and my partner." Starsky looked up at me with a questioning glance.
I grabbed Starsky by the arm and walked him away from everyone. "I know you don't feel like eating, but I'm not letting you go in there without getting some food into you. You haven't eaten in almost twenty-four hours, and what you did eat last mostly came back up."
"Hutch, what makes you think there'll be a different outcome today?" He had a point.
"Look, just eat something, half a sandwich. You can't tell me you're not feeling a little lightheaded. And tired. I know you're feeling sick. So, you do it my way. Or you stay out." My partner gave me a look that said, "I'm going in to back you up and if this is what it takes…"
"Hutch, if it'll make you happy for me to barf all over you in the basement, then I'll do whatever you want. But I'm goin' in there. You're not goin' in without backup." He smiled as best he could, considering how he was feeling.
"Atta boy." I said, as I clapped him on the back and directed him back toward Dobey.
"Captain, Starsky and I will be heading into the building in the next few minutes. Call Summers and tell him we're waiting for the Mayor to return to town." I turned to the custodian. "Do you have a work belt we could borrow, with some tools?"
"Yeah. Can I go back to my car to get it?"
"Sure. Greg, can you escort Mr. Marks to his car? Here," I tossed him the keys to the LTD, "grab whatever clothes you see in my trunk, too." The two headed toward where I had parked my car earlier.
"Starsk, I'm going to wear the belt. If we run in to any trouble, I'll tell them I was working down in the basement." I proceeded to take my blazer off – I was pretty sure I had a jacket I could wear to finish off the look. It's a shame we just came from court; my pants were a little too dressy for working in the basement. Hopefully, it would not turn in to an issue we'd have to deal with.
"If you can get to the men's room, then you can probably convince them that you'd been hiding out there being sick. You think you can do that?" I looked at him with a grin.
"I think I can get an Academy Award for this particular undercover assignment." He joked.
"Okay," I said as we walked toward Dobey. "then we're ready para entrar en la biblioteca." Starsky stopped short just in front of me, and I knocked into him. He turned around and gave me that confused, irritated look he gets when I slip into Spanish. "Sorry. We're ready to go into the library." I translated sheepishly.
"You can be weird sometimes, Hutch." Starsky shook his head and continued on.
Greg Adams and Mr. Marks came back with the stuff. I took my jacket and then the work belt and Starsk and I headed to the back of the building with Mr. Marks and Adams. And Bob Hanover showed up with the food delivery. We each grabbed a sandwich and I heard Dobey behind us instruct dispatch to patch him through to the library.
We ate on the way to the back of the building. My sandwich went down fast – I was starving. Starsky struggled to finish half a roast beef sandwich.
We came up to the manhole cover. The custodian had grabbed a crowbar from his trunk and he proceeded to pull the cover off. And Adams had a couple of flashlights. We were at the back of the building. From the rear, in contrast to the glass façade at the front of the building, all you could see was concrete. And no windows, which was good.
"So, when you get down there, look straight toward the building. You'll need the flashlights to see the tunnel. Just follow the tunnel about twenty yards or so and you'll see a door. Here's the key. And you'll need this other key for when you get to the top of the stairs. At the top, the door accesses a large hallway, which is where the rest rooms and the supply rooms are. If you take the hall toward the front of the building, it opens up to the main floor of the library. The floor plan is open, except of course for all the shelves, which slices up the floor space, as you might expect. In the center of the space is where the receptionist is. That's where Maggie answered the phone and seems like where this guy is keeping everyone."
"Thanks Mr. Marks. Well," I looked to my partner, "Ready?"
"After you." Starsky wasn't too keen on dark spaces. And it already looked like he might be losing his lunch real soon.
"Thanks." I headed into the hole. There was a ladder on the side of the wall heading down to the water main. The end of the steps still left a bit of a jump to make it down. I jumped and splashed a little bit of filthy water on my pants. Well, that would make it look like I had actually been doing work in a basement.
"Starsk, come down easy. When you get to the bottom step I'm going to help you down so you don't get splashed by this mess down here." It wouldn't make sense for Starsky to be all dirty if he was playing the part of just another library-goer.
I helped my partner down and the flashlight picked up the sheen of sweat on his face. "Hey, are you gonna make it okay?"
"Yeah, but I may be playing my part sooner than we thought." I took my handkerchief out and handed it to my partner. "You might feel better if you wipe that sweat from your face."
"Thanks." Starsky proceeded to do just that, and then we both headed in the direction of the tunnel.
I can imagine how dark it must be down here without the flashlights. It was pitch black, and dreary and wet down here, too. I could see the door just ahead. Then I heard a slight gasp behind me. I turned quickly and saw Starsky leaning over, hands on both knees. I was quickly at his side.
"Feeling sick?" I felt stupid asking the obvious.
"Yeah. Give me a minute. I think it might pass." He stood up and closed his eyes, which was probably a bad idea because he seemed to lose his balance a little. I grabbed him and held him up. "Think it might be more claustrophobia than anything else. Let's get up those stairs, huh?" He leaned his hand against the wall as I unlocked the door. We headed up the stairs as quietly as possible.
I unlocked the door at the top of the stairs and we opened it slightly. We couldn't see much, even though it was well lit. We saw the sign that indicated the men's room. "Starsk, head over there. Whenever you're ready, go ahead and make some noise like you're being sick. That should bring one or both of them back here. I'm going to hide in one of the stalls and try to surprise them from behind."
"Yeah." He headed to the men's room. I stayed right behind my partner.
"Hutch, I don't think I can pretend to be sick." He whispered. We'd been through this before.
"Starsky, come on. It's just another undercover assignment. Do what you have to. Stick your finger down your throat."
"If I do that, I can guarantee you it won't be pretend what happens next."
"Whatever it takes." I said to my partner. He glared at me, giving me a look that I hadn't seen in a while. He stuck his finger down his throat and ran for the nearest stall. "Sorry Starsk," I said, as I hid in the next stall, sitting up on the back of the toilet, feet up on the seat.
The wretching sounded awful and I hated making him go through this, although the chances were pretty good that it was going to happen anyway. The noise was bound to bring someone back to investigate.
Pretty fast, we heard some yelling and then the door swung open. I could see through the crack in the door a guy I presumed to be Stephen Summers; he was standing just inside the door.
"Hey, come out of there." He yelled to Starsky. Starsky continued to vomit, although he was surely going to finish soon. Probably the act of putting his finger down his throat caused a reaction that he was unable to control. He couldn't have enough food in his stomach to be forcing the nausea at this point.
"Hey, you in the stall, come out now!" Summers was dangerously impatient, and he was aiming the gun at the door my partner was behind.
"Just a minute." Starsky started, still wretching. "Can't ya…tell I'm sick?" I thought Starsky was lucky to get that much conversation out, but it may have been just enough to keep Summers from doing something he would regret.
Summers slammed the door in, which sounded like it knocked heavily against Starsky's body. Starsky seemed to be through, and I heard the toilet flush and the door open wide.
"Hey, what's goin' on?" Starsky asked. He walked out of the stall and was obviously looking at the gun being held on him.
"What are you doing back here? Didn't you hear me call for everyone to come to the center? Didn't you hear the gunshot?" Summers demanded. My partner stayed cool.
"I've been back here being sick for a while now. And I'm a little feverish; I must not have heard it. Sorry. What's your beef, anyway?" Ease up, Starsky.
"Don't you worry about that. Get into the library with everyone else." Summers continued to point the gun at my partner.
"Can I rinse my mouth out first?" Starsky asked. This would be our best chance to move on Summers.
"Hurry up." I knew that the door was going to squeak as soon as I opened it, so I'd have to move quickly, and hopefully Starsky would know what was going down as soon as he heard the first creak.
I had my gun in my hand and I opened the door swiftly. I saw Summers begin to turn my way, and noticed Starsky had his head in the sink. Starsky moved quickly, clasping his hands and slamming his arms, full force into Summers gun hand, knocking the gun to the floor. Summers moved quickly and threw a punch at Starsky, but Starsk moved back just as fast and I said firmly, "Police, don't move." This stalled Summers enough to allow Starsky to grab the gun from the floor and get his gun out, too. But he was leaning up against the sink a little too much for my taste, breathing heavy and sweating profusely, again. I hoped that Summers didn't notice it, too.
"Who's out there working with you?" I asked Summers.
"No one. I'm in here alone."
"Is that right? We have witnesses outside who say they saw you with someone. Now, we don't want her to get hurt, so tell us what to expect out there."
"Nothing, there's no one else with me."
"Look, we know your girlfriend is Stacy Fitzgerald and we know she's in the building. If she doesn't have a weapon, then she's only an accessory. If she has one, she's an accomplice, and it'll go down much harder on her if she's an accomplice to kidnapping." Starsky watched as I tried to get this guy to understand the gravity of the situation.
"The captain told me that I could see the mayor when he got back to town. We didn't want to hurt anybody. We just wanted a chance to talk to the mayor and have the reporter there to get the story." Oh brother.
"What reporter?" Starsky asked.
"The guy from Southern California Weekly. Uh, James Ivory. He said that we could get the plight of the oppressed some attention if we could get some high profile situation with the mayor. Come on. Check my gun. Its got blanks. Stacy was just checking to make sure the manager wasn't here. She didn't do anything wrong." This guy really thought that she hadn't done anything wrong.
"You realize that kidnapping holds some serious penalties?" Starsky looked first at Summers and then at me, bewilderment and disgust on his face.
"Mr. Ivory said that the charges would be dropped once people saw the real story." Summers was looking more concerned as the minutes went by. And Starsky was looking worse. It was time to finish this.
"Well, we can't speak to that, but one thing is for sure. You're under arrest." I put the handcuffs on him and led him out of the men's room. We headed for the center of the library, where we saw Stacy Fitzgerald come running to Summers. Starsky stopped her.
"Stacy Fitzgerald?" He asked.
"Yes." She looked shocked to see her boyfriend in the cuffs. "What's going on, Stephen?"
"Stacy Fitzgerald, you are under arrest as an accessory to kidnapping." Starsky continued. He pulled out his handcuffs and started to place them on her wrists.
"Hey, do you have to do that?" Summers asked.
"Yes." I said. Starsky put the cuffs on her and he stayed with the two while I went to the door and gave the all clear for the cavalry to come in. Bob and Greg took the two suspects and read them their rights.
Dobey finally made his way in and asked, "Well, what's the story?"
I looked at him and shook my head. "Ivory put them up to it. They were naïve enough, or just plain stupid enough to believe that what they were doing would lead to a slap on the wrists, and good press for their cause. Damn it." This guy had been a thorn in the side of the BCPD for a while.
"Captain, I think we have a case to make that Ivory is an accessory here, too. And maybe we can make that stick with the testimony of these two. I know it's a federal crime, but maybe we can get the D.A. to bring some charges against Ivory and we can use that to help get the charges reduced or kicked for these two. They aren't the real guilty party here." I was so sick of this guy working these types of schemes. He always ended up leaving someone else holding the bag while he got the glory after writing some expose.
"Hutch, they are guilty. Maybe not as guilty as a real kidnapper, and no one got hurt here, but they are guilty of kidnapping." Starsky was only playing devil's advocate, although I was surprised he had any interest in taking that stance right now, the way he had to be feeling.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But, they are young and stupid and a suspended sentence and community service will probably be all that's needed to set them straight. It won't be that easy to get Ivory to change his ways."
"Nah, you're right. Whaddya think, Cap?" Starsky asked Dobey.
"I think we'll take them in and book 'em and discuss it with the D.A. and the feds. I think you," he said, pointing at Starsky, "are going to get a ride home with your partner and you're not coming back to work until you're one hundred percent. Sorry I made you stay for this one, Starsky. But we couldn't afford to have this blow up in to a real incident. I knew I could count on you two to resolve the situation quickly. Thanks. Now get going."
I looked at Starsky. He looked like even attempting to move might make him fall down. I took his elbow and directed him toward the LTD. We got to the car and got in. He was so tired. I started the car and headed toward Starsky's place. It was now about four hours later than when we first started the trip from the courthouse to his place. He was looking worse than he had in two days. I put my hand on my partner's forehead. He was hot, and he hadn't run a temperature this high since late in the second day of his illness. It was probably attributable to too much activity more than any kind of a real relapse.
I approached Starsky's apartment and noticed that he had fallen asleep. I parked the car and went over to the passenger side and opened the door. I kneeled down next to him and said, "Hey buddy, we're home." He blinked a little and yawned, then moved pretty sluggishly out of the car. I grabbed his hand to steady him and he held tight and it took him just a moment to feel steady enough to head for the steps up to his place. I was right behind him, thinking that he probably still wasn't too steady on his feet.
He unlocked his door and immediately sat on the couch. He looked like a sick little boy.
"Starsk, why don't you go change and get in to bed? I'm going to go find the thermometer and make sure your temperature's not too high. You were feeling really hot in the car."
"I really feel like shit, Hutch. When is this ever going to end? I'm so sick of being sick." I knew he was.
"I know, buddy. We'll work real hard to make sure you get some good rest the next couple of days, okay? Dobey's not expecting you until you're all better, so don't worry about how long that takes. You should just rest easy, pal."
"Okay. I'm gonna go change and brush my teeth. Blech." I smiled at him as he made his way to the bathroom. I think maybe I'd take a few days off, too. Just to make sure my partner got the rest he needed. I think Starsky was ready for some coddling. And I was a pretty good coddler.
The End