MIND GAMES
Chapter Two
The annoying phone calls continued for a few more days and then they stopped as suddenly as they had begun. After eight days of having his sleep disrupted by the phone calls, Starsky had slept through his alarm. The sound of Hutch's annoyed voice yelling his name, accompanied by the slamming of the front door, aroused Starsky from a deep slumber.
"Shit!" Starsky muttered when he saw the time. He scrambled out of bed. "Sorry, I'll be ready in a few minutes." He called over his shoulder at his irritated partner as he disappeared into the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, he joined Hutch in the kitchen, still rubbing a towel through his wet curls. Hutch had made a pot of coffee and turned to his partner, arching an eyebrow inquisitively as he handed Starsky a cup. "Phone calls keep you up again all night?"
"No, just the opposite." Starsky said. "I guess I was so tired that once I fell asleep, I didn't hear the alarm." His eyes fell on a plain white envelope without any address or postmark lying on the kitchen table. "What's that?"
"Fan mail?" Hutch said helpfully. "It was taped to your front door when I got here."
Sitting down his coffee, Starsky picked up the envelope carefully and took out a single folded sheet of paper. Opening it, he looked at the message it contained and then handed the paper to Hutch without a word.
Hutch took the paper and glanced at it. Four words had been cut out of newspapers and glued to the page. The message read: It's Not Over Yet. Frowning, Hutch folded the paper and slipped it back into the envelope. Silently, he slipped it into his jacket.
"Whoever's doing this is getting off on playing games." Starsky growled, finishing his coffee with one gulp. "The fucking phone calls weren't bad enough, now they're gonna start sending me 'love' letters?"
"Calm down, Starsky," Hutch said, grasping his friend's shoulder and offering what comfort he could. "We'll get to the bottom of this."
"How?" Starsky growled sharply. "We couldn't find out who was making the phone calls! How are we supposed to find out who left me that note?"
"Sooner or later, they'll make a mistake. We'll take this to work and have it checked out. Maybe we'll get lucky."
"That's a long shot and you know it as well as I do." Starsky grumbled. He sighed wearily as he rubbed his hand across his face. One night without having his sleep disturbed had helped but he was still exhausted, physically and emotionally.
"It's SOP. You know that." Hutch pointed out. "Finish getting dressed so we can go." He finished his own coffee while Starsky retreated to his bedroom to finish dressing.
When they got to headquarters, Hutch took the envelope to the lab to be checked for fingerprints, while Starsky went to the squad room to report the latest development to Captain Dobey.
Dobey glanced up as Hutch joined his partner, sliding into the second chair in front of the Captain's desk. "I don't like this. I don't like it all." Dobey said gruffly, gazing at his best team of detectives sternly. "It has to be someone with a grudge against Starsky."
"That takes in about half the city." Starsky snorted. Starsky and Hutch had the highest arrest record in the department. They had made more than their share of enemies over the years, both as a team and individually.
"Captain, we've already checked out the most obvious suspects…Prudholm, Marcus, Striker, Carver…" Hutch said. "They've all been cleared. They're all still locked away behind bars."
"That doesn't mean that someone isn't doing it on their behalf." Dobey pointed out glumly.
"Or for their own twisted motives." Starsky snorted. "There are enough crazies out there still walking around free."
"Yeah, but most of them have it in for both of us." Hutch reminded him. "Not just you. This seems like something more personal to me."
"I agree." Dobey said, eyeing his two detectives. He looked at the more volatile half of the two men. "Are you sure this isn't just some ex that wants a little pay back?"
"I'm not fucking sure about anything anymore." Starsky growled in an irritated voice.
"Well, we know whoever it is knows your address and your phone number. Those two things aren't common knowledge." Hutch said thoughtfully.
"But, it wouldn't be hard for somebody to find out if they had the right connections." Starsky pointed out.
"Unfortunately, Starsky's right." Dobey said "We all know how easy it is to find out that kind of information."
The ringing of the phone on the desk interrupted their conversation. Dobey swept up the receiver, barking, "Dobey." He listened in silence for several seconds and then said, "You're sure? No, just bag it and hang on to it." He hung up and looked at his two men glumly. "There were no prints on the envelope or the letter except for the two of you. And the words could have been cut out of any newspaper."
"Big surprise there." Starsky smirked.
"I want you both to watch your backs and let me know immediately if Starsky receives anymore letters or phone calls." Dobey said. He raised his voice slightly as he pointed a warning finger at both men. "NO PRIVATE PARTIES! IS THAT CLEAR?"
"Crystal." Starsky said with a grim set to his mouth as he shoved himself to his feet. Hutch followed, throwing an apologetic smile at Dobey as he exited the office.
"Fuck!" Starsky said as he slumped down in his chair, running his fingers through his hair with an aggravated motion. He bounced to his feet, too restless to sit and do nothing. "Let's see if Huggy's heard anything on the streets."
Grabbing their lightweight jackets, the two men left the building. As he walked around the front of his car, Starsky saw the envelope stuck underneath the windshield wiper at the same time Hutch did. With a muttered curse, he grabbed it and ripped it open. Glancing at it briefly, he handed it to Hutch. The message, cut out of newspaper just like the first one, read: Redemption is near.
"SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!" Starsky yelled in frustration, as he slid beneath the wheel, slamming his fist against the dashboard.
"Don't take it out on the car." Hutch chided him mildly, as he slipped the second envelope in his jacket.
"I hate the idea of somebody watching me!" Starsky snapped.
'Well, I don't exactly like it either, partner." Hutch reminded him. "Because if they're watching you, then that means they're watching me too."
"I just wish I had some idea who the hell was behind this!"
"We're gonna have to do what we do best." Hutch said mildly. "Dig through the dirt until we find out. Let's go see Huggy."
They found the tall thin black man busy tending to the lunch crowd that filled the bar. They managed to find two empty stools at the bar and sat own. Diane, one of Huggy's waitresses, greeted them with a warm smile.
"What can I get you two handsome devils today?" she teased.
"Two cups of coffee." Hutch told her with an answering smile.
"And one of Huggy's specials." Starsky added. "Extra fries." He glanced at his partner with a shrug of his shoulders, "Hey, we gotta eat and I missed breakfast."
"Make that two and tell Huggy we need to talk to him." Hutch replied. Diane nodded and walked away to wait on a demanding customer at the end of the bar.
Starsky flexed his shoulders to relieve some of the tension and tried to relax. This wasn't the first time he had been stalked by some scumbag with a grudge and he doubted if it would be the last. But, it was not in his nature to passively accept the role of a victim. Anyone who knew Starsky knew that he was anything but passive.
Within a few minutes, Huggy Bear swaggered over to the two detectives. In his normal cocky tone, he said, "And to what do I owe the honor of your company today, my fine friends?"
"Somebody decided to stop calling Starsky on the phone and started leaving him love notes instead." Hutch explained. "We need you to put the word out on the street and see if anybody's heard anything about someone with a score to settle with Starsky."
"You don't want much, do ya?" Huggy said with a grin. "That's a pretty tall order. Curly's not as popular as you are, m'man."
"Thanks a lot, Hug." Starsky grumbled, as Diane sat his food down in front of him. Giving Hutch his order, she discreetly disappeared. Whatever the three men were discussing, it wasn't any of her business. Starsky attacked his meal enthusiastically.
"Hey, I just call 'em as I see 'em." Huggy said good-naturedly. He lowered his voice so that only the two men could hear him. "I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks, Hug." Hutch told him with a grateful smile. "We owe you one."
"You owe me a lot more than just one." Huggy reminded him with a snort as he turned and walked away. Huggy wasn't just an informant, he was also a personal friend of the two detectives. Starsky and Hutch knew he'd do whatever he could to find any information that could help them find out who was harassing Starsky and why.
After finishing their lunch, the two detectives left the bar. As he stepped outside, Starsky stopped in his tracks, stunned. "MY CAR!" He bellowed angrily. "LOOK WHAT SOMEBODY DID TO MY CAR!"
Hutch stood beside his partner gaping in shock at his partner's vehicle. Both tires on the passenger's side were flat, slit with a knife from the way it looked to Hutch's experienced eyes. A large crack spider-webbed the front windshield and something had been thrown on the roof and had leaked down over the sides, eating away at the paint job like acid, leaving a gray sludge where the paint had dissolved.
"We better call it in." Hutch said, jerking open the passenger side door and leaning in to reach for the microphone hanging beneath the dash. He jerked back with a disgusted grimace when he saw the feces smeared across the leather upholstery. There was no way to deny any longer that this wasn't a personal vendetta against Starsky. Trying to ignore the putrid odor that filled the inside the vehicle, Hutch grabbed the mike, pulling it outside the car and into the fresh air. Behind him, Starsky was mouthing a colorful vocabulary of obscenities, in at least two different languages.
"This is Zebra three. We need a tow truck for mechanical assistance and a crime lab at The Pits bar." Hutch said into the mike.
"Were you and Starsky in an accident, Hutch?" the dispatcher's worried voice came over the air.
"Not exactly, Millie," Hutch told her. "Somebody trashed Starsky's car."
"Ten-four, Hutch. Assistance is on the way."
Hutch tossed the mike back into the front seat and turned to his highly agitated partner. Starsky halted his frenzied pacing and glared at his partner. His eyes blazed with anger, obviously wanting to punch something but he didn't have a convenient target to center his rage on.
"MY CAR! MY FUCKING CAR!" he said in an outraged voice, the despair in his eyes only partially masked by the rage. "HOW COULD ANYBODY DO THAT TO MY CAR?" The crack in his voice told Hutch how upset Starsky was at the vandalism to his vehicle.
"I guess this makes it personal, doesn't it?" Hutch said, slinging a comforting arm over his distraught partner's shoulders.
"You're damned straight." Starsky growled fiercely, his voice cold as ice. "It doesn't get much more personal than this."
