Chapter 16

Hutch walked into the tiny conference room, followed by his angry partner. The brunet was tight lipped, white and shaking and stood just inside the doorway to the room his chest heaving as he fought for control. As Starsky slammed the door behind him, the blond turned slowly to meet the full force of those burning indigo eyes. The pain behind them, the questioning and the hurt they held was like a physical blow to the flaxen haired cop and he wished the ground would open up and swallow him. His throat constricted tightly. What had he been thinking? Why did he think he had the right to keep such a secret from his best buddy? Every man was entitled to know who his father was and here was he, too cowardly to come clean and tell Starsky that the man he'd always thought of as his loving father may not be.

But there was that word "may". It wasn't conclusive that Joe Durniak was Starsky's father. According to Dale, Rachel and Joe had never taken the tests to establish paternity. To them it had been a big dirty secret and it had remained with them all these years. And now Dalango had blabbed, using that same secret as a punishment for Starsky doing his job and putting the gangster behind bars. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right and he was left to pick up the pieces.

'What's this all about Hutch?' Starsky asked in a voice that was steely and controlled.

'Starsky it's really better that we don't do this here. Let's go home huh? I'll tell you when we get to your place' Hutch pleaded.

'Why? What's so bad that you have to take me out of a public place? Ya think I'm gonna throw a tantrum like some little kid?'

'No, I think you're hurtin' buddy and you're scared'.

'Too damned right I'm scared. What's Dale told ya? What's this big secret about me that I seem to be the only one who don't know about it?'

'Sit down Starsk'.

'I'm fine on my feet' the brunet growled.

Hutch sighed. 'Fine. Dale has it all wrong you know'.

'Huh?'

'He figured that this secret would split you and your family apart, but it won't. I know you and you're bigger than that'.

'Hutch, for Gods sake stop the melodrama and just tell me' Starsky's fist was hitting a silent drumbeat against the wall of the conference room and the air inside the confined space was electric.

'When I went to see him, to interview him and take his statement, he wanted me to bargain with him. He said he had a secret about you and he'd keep it to himself so long as I could wangle it that he served his time in minimum security'.

'Yeah, I figured that much. But after what he did to you, why would ya bargain with him buddy? Hutch, what did he tell ya?'

'You told me that when your Dad died….'

'Was killed' the brunet corrected him. Hutch held up his hand in apology.

'Was killed, that Joe Durniak paid for his funeral expenses'.

'Yeah, he paid it all. Mom could never have afforded to, Dad's pension was only small'.

'And then afterwards, he started to send her checks each month as a kind of allowance?'

'Yeah' Starsky's voice had taken on a thoughtful quality. 'I don't like where this is goin' buddy' he said quietly.

Hutch ran his fingers over his lower lip, his heart beating wildly in his chest now that he'd come to the crunch of the matter. He took a deep breath.

'Why would he do that Starsk?'

Starsky's eyes blazed back at him 'I don't know. But I get the feelin' you an' Dale have got the answer, so spill it'.

Hutch closed his eyes. 'Think on it Starsk. Your Dad loved you. You and Nick never wanted for anything. Michael Starsky loved you both and if he was still here today, he'd be the best damned Dad in the world, you know that, don't ya buddy?'

'But?' the brunet said in a small voice

'There are no "buts" Starsk. All you really need to know is that he brought you into this world and he loved you'.

The curly haired cop staggered slightly and put his hand on the back of the chair to steady himself. 'But he wasn't my Dad. Is that what you're tryin' to tell me? That my Dad wasn't who I thought he was for all these years? That it was….it was….oh my God, Durniak?' He looked up at his partner with pleading eyes. 'No' he whispered.

Hutch crossed the small room in two strides and enfolded the smaller man in a bear hug. 'Dale said it in malice buddy. He wanted to hurt you and the truth is that neither your Mom nor Durniak took any tests. Nothing is for sure, and does it really matter? Michael Starsky is the man who raised you and loved you and made sure you knew right from wrong, not Joe Durniak' the blond said softly. The stayed like that for a few seconds until Starsky shrugged his partner's arms away. He stood back, physically putting distance between himself and the other man as he wiped angrily at his eyes.

'But it figures don't it? Why would a gangland boss like Durniak pay for a cop's funeral? Why would he hang around my family afterwards? Why would he send money to my Mom for all these years? I was dumb enough to think that maybe there was this noble underground code of the streets. Some code that said that the criminal fraternity might look after the family of someone they'd admired. I had no idea it was fuckin' conscience money to look after his son and his….his…what? Whore? Mistress? What is the correct term for it Hutch?'

'The term you're lookin' for is Mother. She's your Mom Starsk and she always will be. She doesn't love you any less for…..Starsky?'

Hutch's explanation was cut short as his partner bolted for the door. He followed swiftly. 'Starsk, where are ya goin'?'

'I gotta get outa here. I feel like the walls are cavin' in. I can't breathe' the brunet gasped as he continued his headlong charge through the rest of the startled people on the concourse of the courthouse. Hutch followed closely as Starsky charged outside and round to the parking lot. In his haste he ran headlong into Joe Newman who was loading his case into the trunk of his car.

'Ah, Detective. Afternoon!' the lawyer said with a grin. 'Back on the streets to arrest my next client?'

Starsky glared at the man as though he'd grown another head as Hutch put his hand up.

'Not now Newman' the blond snapped.

'Why? 15 years of Mr Dalango's life not good enough?' Newman asked with a supercilious smile on his face.

Hutch stood between Newman and his partner, putting a physical barrier between the lawman and the brunet. Expecting trouble.

But none came. With almost unnatural calm, Starsky found the keys to his car, opened the door and got in, sitting in the drivers seat and staring straight ahead through the windshield as his fingers played with a loose thread on the button of his navy blue suit jacket. Newman too seemed shocked and despite Hutch trying to keep him clear of the Torino, he dodged around and leaned into the open window of the car.

'I hope you're proud of yourself, putting him behind bars for so long he'll be an old man when he comes out, Detective'.

Starsky turned his head slowly to meet Newman's eyes. 'Ya know. I once accused you of having no father' he said softly.

Newman seemed shocked at the tone and said nothing as the cop continued with a sad smile.

'Seems that was you and me both' Starsky finished as he put his keys into the ignition and set the big car in motion leaving the lawyer open mouthed in the middle of the parking lot.

They drove in silence, Starsky deep inside his own thoughts and Hutch terrified in case the explosion was yet to come. It unnerved the big blond enormously to have his partner so deathly still and quiet. Most time when the curly haired man was upset or angry, he would rant and rave, yelling, punching out and often breaking anything that happened to be close by. The unaccustomed calm and the sad expression on the handsome face were almost too much for Hutch to bear and he wished that somehow he could have turned back time and either stopped Dale from telling him in the first place, or found some way that he could have kept the truth from Starsky.

What did it matter if Durniak turned out to be Starsky's Dad? If it hadn't been for Dalango no-one would have known and the brunet would have gone on in the knowledge that his Dad was a hero. Durniak may have been there as a ready supply of money, but the Mafia boss had never been around to witness first words, first steps. He'd not been the one to stand proudly by as his son swam his first length of the swimming pool, or hit his first home run, or scored his first touch down. He'd not been there through fevers, chickenpox and measles. That had all been Michael Starsky and his loving wife. For a moment, Hutch wondered if the older cop had ever had an inkling about Rachel's dalliance with Durniak. But at the end of the day, did it really matter?

Without realising it, Hutch found himself outside Venice Place, the Torino parked neatly by the sidewalk as Starsky remained silent. The blond shook himself from his thoughts and stirred.

'Are you coming up?'

'No'.

'Aww c'mon Starsk. you shouldn't be on your own right now. It's been an enormous shock for you'.

'Ya think?'

'Yeah, I think. C'mon. Let me fix you a drink and we can talk'.

Starsky snorted softly. 'Why? Ya got some other juicy secrets ya wanna reveal?'

Hutch sighed. 'No. I just wanna help my buddy through a tough time'.

'Then give me some space. I need some time'.

'You sure you'll be ok?'

The brunet smiled sadly. 'I guess. Just need to think, ya know?'

Reluctantly, Hutch got out of the car and leaned in through the window. 'You know where I am buddy, if you….. Well. Ya know where I am'.

Without another word, Starsky pushed the selector into drive and moved off as the flaxen haired cop stood on the sidewalk and watched him go. Wearily, Hutch walked up his steps and pushed open the door to his apartment. Mechanically he went about fixing himself a coffee and some scrambled eggs which he moved disconsolately around his plate before throwing the uneaten meal into the waste disposal. He sat on his sofa, picked up his guitar and started to strum some chords at random, but that didn't relax him as it usually did, and he put the instrument down, picking up a magazine. Finding that that too did little to hold his interest, Hutch reached for the telephone to punch in the numbers he knew so well, stopped half way through, then replaced the receiver. It was no use. He couldn't just leave this here. It was too big. Too much of a deal for his partner to go through on his own and despite the brunet's protestations that he needed some time, Hutch couldn't face the thought of his buddy alone and brooding. Picking up his jacket, he headed out of the door and got into his own car and drove slowly over to Ridgeway.

Waiting outside the apartment, under the shade of the tree by the side of the house, Hutch wondered for the hundredth time if he was doing the right think. Finally deciding that he'd prefer Starsky to be with him and angry rather than brooding and alone, he got out of the car and walked up the steps, pausing at the door. He hesitated. They rarely knocked when they went into each other's houses, but maybe this was one of the times when he should. He rapped once on the wooden door and without waiting, pushed it open and walked in.

Starsky was sitting on his sofa, leaning back with his head resting on the chair back. He didn't look up as Hutch walked in, but as the blond walked over to him, Hutch saw two things. The first was that clutched to the brunet's chest was a silver framed black and white photograph of an older man in a cop's black uniform, smiling into the camera.

The second was a photograph of Rachel Starsky taken at Thanksgiving last year, lying on the floor by the side of the coffee table, the glass in the frame smashed and the photograph torn.