Chapter Four
Hutch found himself arriving in Phoenix shortly after six o'clock that evening. He found a motel near Saint Matthews and checked in for the evening. He knew that it was too late to go to the hospital and start asking for information about Starsky. He would have to wait until morning. His conversation with Doctor Adams had effectively dashed any lingering hope he might have been harboring about Starsky's chances of still being alive. He knew that he would more than likely discover that Starsky had arrived DOA at the hospital. The best he could hope for was to find where his remains had been buried so that he could have the body returned to Bay City.
Although he was exhausted, Hutch couldn't sleep. His sharp, analytical mind was reviewing the details of the case as he knew them so far. It was apparent that the two kids who had stumbled across Starsky's body must have done so within an hour of his being shot and left there to die, otherwise he would have already been dead when they found him. Or maybe it had simply been Starsky's stubborn will to live that had kept him hanging on longer than he should have.
He would probably never know why John McFarland had chosen to abduct Starsky, torture him and then shoot him in the head in the middle of nowhere. Starsky and Hutch weren't even the officers that had arrested him for the three murders that had sent him to San Quentin, although they had arrested him previously on a charge of child pornography that had netted him six years in prison. In his warped mind, McFarland had apparently singled them out for his twisted revenge. Hutch couldn't help but wonder when McFarland had written the letter to him along with the directions on where to find Starsky's body. From the evidence on the envelope, he had had the letter in his possession for quite some time.
What had kept him from mailing it to Hutch before he died? That was just one of the questions he knew that he would probably never find the answers to. Even if the letter had been delivered sooner, it wouldn't have changed anything. Starsky would still be dead. But, at least it would have given closure to those closest to him. Starsky's mother had gone to her grave not knowing what had happened to her eldest son. Like Hutch, she had eventually resolved herself to the fact that he was dead even though a body had never been found. She had died shortly afterwards from a massive heart attack. Finally, shortly before dawn, Hutch fell into a restless slumber.
He awoke around eleven o'clock that morning, sore and stiff. He forced himself to get out of bed and took a hot shower to soothe his aching body. He was getting too old for this sort of investigation. His body was screaming for him to slow down, to rest, something he knew he couldn't do until he followed this through to its conclusion.
It was noon when he made his way to Saint Matthews, a huge hospital with a collection of specialists on staff. Hutch immediately made his way to the trauma unit and began asking questions. Nobody he talked to seem to have the answers he needed. Frustrated and angry, he finally vented his aggravation on an unfortunate clerk who had innocently referred him to yet another person on the staff.
"Look, I'm getting sick and tired of this run around! I want to talk to someone in charge who can answer my questions and I want to talk to them now!" Hutch said in a outraged voice, slamming the palm of his hand down on the counter in front of the clerk for emphasis.
Almost immediately two security guards, alerted to possible trouble by the loud tone of his voice, stepped up beside him. One of them reached out to grab Hutch's shoulder and said gruffly, "What seems to be the problem here, sir?"
Hutch shook off the man's hand and glared at him angrily. "I want to talk to someone in charge about a patient that was transferred to this hospital approximately eight and a half years ago from Holbrook, Arizona."
"I'm sorry, sir, but we're going to have to ask you to leave the premises. I'm sure that you're aware that patient information is confidential."
"I'm not going anywhere!" Hutch growled in the same voice he used with the preps on the streets, a cold deadly voice that anyone who knew him knew meant that he was the very edge of his patience. He pulled out his badge and showed it to the guards. "My name is Captain Kenneth Hutchinson from the Bay City, California Police Department and I'm investigating the murder of my partner, Detective Sergeant David Starsky. I have reason to believe that he was a John Doe that was care flighted to this hospital from Holbrook after his body was discovered in the desert." His pale blue eyes flashed an inner fire that unnerved the guards. "So find me somebody that can answer my questions because I am getting tired of repeating myself!"
"Why don't you come with us, sir?" one of the guards suggested cautiously "And we'll see what we can do to find somebody who can help you."
After a moment of hesitation, Hutch nodded slightly and followed the two guards to an empty conference room at the end of the hall. One of the guards remained in the room with Hutch, while the second one went in search of the hospital's administrator.
"Your partner, huh?" the remaining guard said trying to make casual conversation to cover his own nervousness about being left alone with this volatile stranger.
"Yeah." Hutch said shortly, the tone of his voice making clear that he was in no mood to make idle conversation. He paced the room with long, measured strides as he fought to control his temper. He wasn't about to let the hospital's bureaucracy stop him now, not when he was so close to the end of his quest. If he had to, he was prepared to cause the hospital so much bad publicity that they would never be able to recoup their losses. Nothing mattered to Hutch except finding his missing partner and finally putting his memory to rest.
Finally, the second guard returned. He was accompanied by two men, both in their late fifties to early sixties with distinguished features and dressed in expensive three piece suits.
"Captain Hutchinson?" one of the men said with a thin smile. "I'm George Lucas, the attorney for Saint Matthews and this is Craig Morrison, the hospital administrator. We understand that you are here in connection with a murder investigation?"
"Yes, I am." Hutch said firmly. "My partner, Detective Sergeant David Starsky. Recently uncovered evidence suggests that my partner was care flighted to this hospital eight and half years ago from Hobrook, Arizona. He would have been listed as a John Doe."
"Mr. Hutchinson," the attorney for the hospital said in a condescending tone "I'm sure that you must be aware that in a hospital this large, the number of patients we see each year is tremendous. It would take weeks to locate any information on a patient that may or may not have been admitted to this hospital almost nine years ago. And if he was admitted as a John Doe or was dead on arrival, then those records may not even be in the system."
"Then you better do whatever you have to do to find out." Hutch growled "Because I'm not leaving without some answers. I have medical power of attorney for my partner, so any information about him can legally be released to me." Hutch's eyes narrowed dangerously. "If you refuse to cooperate in an open murder investigation involving a highly decorated and respected Bay City Police officer, then I will slap this hospital with the biggest lawsuit you've ever seen and I will personally make sure that you gentlemen are both charged with obstruction of justice."
The hospital administrator looked noticeably upset at Hutch's threats but the lawyer seemed unfazed by his outburst. In a deceptively calm voice, he said, "I will need to discuss this with my clients and the board of directors of this hospital will have to make a decision concerning your request. That may take a day or two."
"You've got twenty-four hours." Hutch growled harshly "After that, I go to a judge and get an injunction against this hospital and you will also be hearing from my lawyer concerning a lawsuit." Hutch said. "I'm staying at the Mayfield Inn. Room 211. You can reach me there with your decision."
Without another word, Hutch turned and left the room. He knew that he wouldn't make anymore headway in the investigation today. A good cop knew when to push the limits and when to back off. And Hutch was a good cop. One of the best. He knew that in the end, the hospital would see things his way and cooperate. The threat of a lawsuit and being involved in a murder investigation would be enough to ensure that. Now all Hutch could do was wait but he didn't intend to wait for long.