SLASHER

Starsky goes undercover at an escort service to catch a serial killer who is targeting men with dark curly hair.

CHAPTER 1

The body was sprawled at the bottom of a steep ravine alongside a secluded canyon road. The rocky terrain was overgrown with brush and weeds, the hillside littered with trash that had been thrown from passing cars. Detective Ken Hutchinson began to make his way down the rugged incline followed closely by his partner, Detective David Starsky.

"Watch your step, Starsk," Hutch advised his partner. "There's a lot of loose gravel."

"I'm not a damn mountain goat," Starsky complained. He watched where Hutch stepped and then tried to put his own feet in the same spot.

Two uniformed officers and a team from the coroner's office were already gathered at the crime scene. The uniformed men watched as the two detectives approached. The oldest of the pair, a heavyset man in his late-fifties with a heavily wrinkled face, looked bored while his partner, a young man who appeared to be barely out of his teens, looked excited at finding himself in the middle of the action.

"What've you got, Charlie?" Hutch asked the older officer.

"Same M.O. as the other ones. Sliced and diced." Charlie Hodges answered gruffly.

"Who found the body?" Hutch asked as he crouched down beside the victim. His mind automatically cataloged the victim's injuries. The man's nude body was covered with bruises, burns, and welts. But, the most horrendous injury was the man's emasculation.

"Some kid looking for a lost dog," Hodges said "Scared the hell out of him. He'll probably have nightmares for the rest of his life."

Starsky looked over Hutch's shoulder with a grimace. He felt a sympathetic twitch in his own groin as his gaze swept over the man's disfigured crotch. He pulled his notebook out of his pocket and began taking notes. "You got an address for the kid so we can talk to him if we need to?"

"Billy Simpson. 3376 Pine Creek Road." The younger officer spoke up eagerly, earning a scornful look from his older partner for his enthusiasm.

"Looks like we got a serial killer on our hands…and a sick one at that," Hutch said as he slowly straightened up and absently wiped his hands on his jeans. He nodded at two men who stood off to the side waiting patiently. "You can go ahead and move the body." He stepped back to stand beside Starsky as the EMT's stepped forward to put the victim in a body bag for transport to the morgue.

"How are we supposed to figure out what's evidence and what's not?" Starsky grumbled as he looked around at the empty cans, styrofoam cups, discarded carryout bags and cigarette butts that littered the area.

"No signs of blood. So, he was probably killed somewhere else just like the others and then dumped here," Hutch said as he examined the ground at his feet for any sign of footprints or drag marks. He turned his attention to the crime scene techs that had just arrived. "Gather up everything within a 20 foot radius of the body. We'll let the lab boys sort it out." He ordered them.

"We have to find this guy before he kills again. He's got a real taste for it now." Starsky

scowled. He squinted against the glare of the sun. Pulling his sunglasses from his jacket, he slipped them on even as his gaze continued to sweep around the scene.

"Let's head back to the station. I want to take a look at the files on the other two victims." Hutch said as he slipped on his own sunglasses.

They started the climb back up to the road with Hutch in the lead. When he reached the top, Hutch turned and grabbed Starsky's hand to help him climb the rest of the way. They were both out of breath as they walked over to Hutch's beat up excuse for a car and climbed in. Starsky muttered an obscenity under his breath as he shifted position to avoid the spring that was working its way through the worn upholstery.

"Don't bad mouth my car," Hutch warned him as he turned the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered a few times before it finally started with a belch of black smoke.

"I didn't say a word." Starsky said with a smirk.

"You didn't have to. I can read your mind." Hutch shifted the car into gear and pulled onto the highway.

"Yeah? Then what am I thinking now?" Starsky said as he relaxed back into his seat.

"That it's your turn to buy at Huggy's when we get off shift," Hutch said smugly.

"My turn? Why is it my turn? I offered to buy you lunch. You said you weren't hungry."

"Unlike you buddy; I don't have a cast iron stomach."

"At least I don't eat butterfly bones and decrepit liver."

"That's desiccated liver, mushbrain," Hutch automatically corrected him.

The friendly bickering continued as they drove back into the city. It was just one of the ways they coped with the stress that went along with their job. In their years on the force they had witnessed first hand man's inhumanity to man. Sights, smells and sounds that sometimes haunted them in their dreams.

When they reached police headquarters, Hutch parked in the rear packing lot and they walked across the pavement to the back entrance to the building. Starsky held the door open for his partner with a flourish, playfully slapping Hutch on the ass as he walked through the doorway.

"I hope the Captain's in a better mood than he was this morning," Starsky said as they opted to take the elevator to the fifth floor instead of the stairs.

"He wouldn't have been in a bad mood if you hadn't decided to tape Miss April's centerfold to his office door." Hutch reminded him.

"Hey, if I remember right…you thought it was funny when I did it." Starsky shot back as he punched the button for their floor.

"Who? Me?" Hutch said with an innocent smile.

Starsky stuck his tongue out at his partner's back as the elevator doors slid open on the third floor. Minnie Kaplan, the department's resident computer whiz, stepped into the elevator, carefully balancing a stack of files.

"What floor, Minnie?" Hutch asked politely as the petite woman with the thick black glasses smiled warmly at her two favorite detectives.

"Five," she said "Captain Dobey called down for these files an hour ago."

"We can take those for you so you can get back to work," Hutch offered.

"Actually, I was going home as soon as I dropped these off," Minnie told him as she handed him the files. "I have a hot date with the TV tonight."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Starsky teased her wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he flashed his trademark grin.

"Oh, you trashy boy," Minnie teased him back "I wouldn't do half the things that you do."

"She's got you there, Starsk. Your reputation precedes you." Hutch flashed a mischievous grin at his partner.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with my reputation." Starsky said with an exaggerated pout.

"Of course there isn't," Minnie said as she patted his cheek playfully. "That's why there are so many interesting things written about you in all the stalls in the ladies room."

Hutch snorted with laughter at the expression on Starsky's face as the doors slid open on the fifth floor. "Have fun tonight, Minnie." He said giving her a peck on the cheek as the two men exited the elevator.

They walked down the hallway and through the glass doors that opened into the squad room for the special units division. Two long tables stood in the middle of the room. One table was occupied by other detectives who were either working on reports or talking on the phone. Starsky detoured to the coffee pot sitting on a table in one corner of the room. He picked up a cup and checked to make sure it was clean before pouring a cup of the sludge that passed as coffee. He added four spoons of sugar and an amble amount of creamer. Before he could take a sip Captain Dobey's voice bellowed.

"Starsky! Hutchinson! Get in here."

"How does he do that?" Starsky muttered as sat the cup down and crossed the room to join Hutch. "We just got here."

"Maybe he's psychic," Hutch whispered as he pushed open the office door and stepped aside waving Starsky into the room first.

Captain Harold Dobey was sitting behind his desk with a deep frown on his face. He was a burly black man who had been on the force for over twenty years. He reigned over the men under his command with a firm but fair hand. It was no secret that he considered Starsky and Hutch to be his best team and usually assigned them the more high profile cases.

"Minnie said you asked for these," Hutch said as he laid the files on the desk. He sat down in one of the two chairs facing the desk. Ignoring the second chair, Starsky perched on the arm of Hutch's seat. They looked at their Captain in silence as they waited to hear why he had summoned them to his office.

"I've been on the phone with the commissioner, the mayor and the chief," Dobey growled. "They all want to know why we haven't caught this guy yet."

"What do they expect us to do?" Hutch demanded in an annoyed tone "We haven't got anything to go on except for three mutilated bodies."

"Do you think the victim you found today works for the same escort service as the other two?" Dobey asked gruffly

"The M.O's the same so I'd almost bet on it. But, we won't know for sure until we identify the body," Starsky pointed out.

"The commissioner wants to send a man in undercover," Dobey said somberly with a pointed glance at Starsky. "One who fits the description of the other victims."

Hutch's reaction was immediate and loud. "No," he growled with a quick glance at his dark haired partner. "It's too dangerous. We have no idea how this maniac chooses his victims but we sure as hell know what he does to them once he has them

"I'll do it," Starsky said in a quiet but determined voice. He returned Hutch's glare with a unwavering look of his own. "We have to stop this guy before he kills anybody else. If that means using me for bait then let's do it."

"How am I supposed to watch your back if you're working as an escort?" Hutch grumbled "It'd look sort of suspicious if anyone spotted me hanging around all the time."

"I'm sure you'll come up with something," Starsky said with a thin smile. "There are certain parts of my anatomy that I happen to be very attached too and I would like for them to remain intact."

Hutch grimaced at Starsky's veiled reference to the castration of the victims.

"Shouldn't we talk about this first?"

"What's there to talk about?" Starsky said with a heavy sigh. "I don't see any other way of getting close enough to the escort service to find out if it's being specifically targeted by this maniac. And so far that's the only connection we've been able to find between the victims."

"I still don't like it," Hutch complained "This isn't the way we work."

"You could always go under as my jealous ex-boyfriend who's trying to get me back," Starsky said, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he saw the blush that crept up Hutch's neck at the suggestion. "We know that at least one of the victims was allegedly bi-sexual."

"You have an appointment with Diamond Escorts tomorrow at two. The owner is a woman named Shelia Brent. She doesn't know that you're a cop. As far as she's concerned you're just another body who needs to make some quick bucks." Dobey told Starsky. He handed Starsky a two page application. "Fill that out and drop it off sometime before your appointment tomorrow."

As Starsky reached out to accept the application from Dobey, Hutch stood up and left the office without another word. A startled Starsky stuffed the application into his jacket as he bounced to his feet and quickly followed his partner. Dobey hid a smile as the door closed behind his men. He knew that if anyone could crack this case wide open, Starsky and Hutch could. They may not always follow the rules or use standard operating procedures but they got the job done and that was all that mattered.