Sorry for the delay - back now.
Chapter 7
Two weeks later
The two detectives walked up the crowded steps to the courthouse, dodging the reporters on the steps and looking in amazement at the crowd of Marcus' followers who had made their way back down town to witness their Teacher's sentencing. The young people stood or sat on the steps of the big building, chanting softly and touching, caressing each other's faces and hair in a watered down version of the sex orgy which the two detectives had seen back at the old farmhouse. They had the same red inverted cross on their foreheads, but theirs were either tattooed or painted on rather than the scarified cross Marcus himself sported on his head. Placards waved gently in the breeze, the only sign that they were protesting for a particular reason. Other than that, they'd be taken for any other bunch of new age travellers. The sight sickened the two men and they hastened to get inside and ready for the hearing that would seal the sick cultists fate.
'Who'd have thought we disbanded them just a few short weeks ago' Hutch mused as they pushed open the doors to the courtroom. It was hushed inside the courthouse after the hubbub of the steps and Hutch relaxed marginally. As they met Dobey inside the courtroom, Starsky bolted for the door.
'Hey, be right back' he called as he backed out of the room again and rushed down the corridor.
Five years ago they'd had a run of arrests and sentences which were either unsatisfactory or were overturned on appeal. And then one day the brunet had had to rush to the bathroom just before the Judge had entered. He'd rushed to the washrooms and had returned to hear that the murderer they'd been hunting down for the past five months had just been sent down for 17 years. He and Hutch had celebrated that night and it had started a routine with the superstitious cop. Each time they attended a sentencing hearing, he's charge off to the washrooms, even if he didn't need to "go", appearing uncannily just as the Judge was about to get to the end of his sentencing remarks. Even the regular Judges on the circuit had noticed and one or two had been known to slow down their delivery just to give the brunet an extra second or two to get back to his place.
With Marcus, it was more important then ever for the curly haired cop to see the cultist sent down for as long as he could be. Not only had the evil man killed three young girls, cutting their lives abruptly short, but Starsky was also of the firm belief that the madman was also the force behind his middle of the night phone calls and the feeling of tiredness and lassitude he'd had these past weeks. He'd tried to explain his feelings to his level headed partner, but Hutch had dismissed the idea out of hand, telling him that his garlic toting and voodoo believing days were behind him and he should just go get himself checked out at the doctors. Hutch had relied on the brunet's loathing of all things medical to shut him up and after the initial explanation of his feelings, Starsky had remained stoically tight lipped, never again mentioning the feelings that someone was watching him and spying on his every move.
Starsky rushed down the corridor towards the men's room, nodding once or twice at the uniformed officers who lined the doorways, the courthouse being on high alert for this high profile case. He pushed the door of the washroom open and stood in front of the mirror, straightening his dark navy tie and running his finger around his tight collar. He hated wearing a more formal shirt but knew the hearing demanded it, so he endured for the sake of propriety.
oOo
The window of the black Power Wagon van rolled back up and the three men regarded the two detectives as they rushed up the steps. They'd spent the previous evening honing their plans and that moment were getting ready to put them into operation. A young girl at the top of the steps nodded slightly, indicating she'd seen the curly haired cop go into the washroom.
The big black van gunned it's engine and headed around to the back of the building as the crowd outside started to become more heated. The two cops on the door watched as the chanting and swayin started to get louder and more animated.
The hair stroking and caressing had gone and now the crowd of followers were becoming more agitated until the uniforms began to suspect that if they didn't step in soon they would soon have a full scale riot on their hands, Stepping back, they signalled for the cops who'd lined the corridor to join them and stepped out into the melee, batons drawn as they prepared to quell the uprising.
As the group started to get unruly, the van drove around the back of the courthouse and one of the men got out, running up to the back door and peeping inside. That corridor too was clear as all available men had been called through to the front to hep out.
Brad signalled to the two in the van, Sonny and Deek and they quickly joined Brad as he forced open the door and headed down the shiny walkway to the men's room. Out of an abundance of caution they checked once again to make sure the coast was clear, then ducked inside the washroom, walking round the tiled half wall and seeing the brunet cop bending over the sink to get a handful of water.
Not suspecting trouble, Starsky didn't look up as the men entered. Why would he? This was a public room when all was said and done.
Deek and Sonny took up positions one each side of the curly haired man and Brad stood behind him, surrounding Starsky so that when he looked up he saw the young blond man's face in the mirror. For a moment, questioning indigo eyes stared back at the reflection and then the here made their move.
Deek tried to take hold of Starsky's right arm but the cop's honed senses saw it coming and he wrenched it out of the cult member's grasp. At the same time Sonny took hold of the collar of the brown jacket and immediately, Starsky pulled his left arm free, revealing his gun and holster. Brad saw it too and quick as a flash, he hooked his arms around Starsky's body pinning the brunet's arms to his side as Sonny took the gun from him and pushed it into the waistband of is pants.
'What the fuck 're ya doin'?' Starsky yelled at the three. 'HEY, SOME HELP IN HERE' he shouted to the uniforms he thought were outside.
Brad came around the front and smacked Starsky across the face, leaving white finger marks on the olive toned skin. The brunet's head flew sideways and Brad's ring caught him high of on the right temple. Starsky felt it begin to bleed.
Brad grinned. 'Shuddup. Your friends are a little distracted right now. You can yell as much as you like, you aint got no help coming any time soon'.
Starsky kicked out with his legs, trying to wrench his arms away from the two men at the side of him, but they held fast as Brad drove his fist into the taut abdomen. The brunet bent over wheezing, and another fist caught him on the side of his head, right where Brad's ring had cut him moments earlier. He grunted and wheezed trying to get breath back into his body and straightened, looking at Brad through bleary eyes.
'What d'ya want punk?' he gasped, knowing full well by the crosses on their foreheads who they were.
'We want you' Brad said simply.
'Not gonna happen' Starsky replied cockily as he braced himself for the next blow. As Brad wound up, the two at the side of him let go his arms and as Brad fist connected once again with the right hand side of his head, he was knocked sideways, hitting his head on the porcelain wash basin and seeing stars.
Starsky struggled to his knees, leaning forward and propping himself on his arms. Blood dripped in small ruby droplets down onto the white tiles and he looked at them dazedly before realising they were his own blood spots. He tried to raise his hand to his head to stem the flow of blood, but it felt heavy and disconnected. The whole right hand side of his head felt as though it was on fire, throbbing in time with the staccato beat of his heart.
He groaned and the men around him laughed. Sonny bent down and picked him up roughly so that he stood between the men, swaying. The room swam and he swallowed hard. No way would he lose his breakfast in front of these suckers!
'Leave me 'lone' he said drunkenly, the words catching in his throat. 'Cops'll find ya. Don't do it. Fuck. Hutch'll kill ya. I'll kill ya' he panted.
Brad took hold of a handful of curly hair and jerked Starskys head back until the brunet could see Brad's face.
'Si-mon dreamed your death, and that of the white knight. It doesn't matter what you threaten pig, you're gonna die regardless'.
'Yeah, well lets get it over with then. I aint gonna go without a fight'.
Brad chuckled. 'Looks to me like you've got no fight left in ya'.
'Try me'.
'Is that an invitation?' Brad grinned and as Starsky swayed between Sonny and Deek, he landed out one final time, aiming still for the right hand side of Starsky's head and the lights of the world blinked out.
'Lets get him outside. Deek d'ya have the blood?'
Deek pointed at the pail he'd carried into the washroom. 'Oh yeah. Leave it with me. I'll be out in 30 seconds'.
As Brad and Sonny carried Starsky's limp body out of the washroom and hurried down the corridor back to the truck, Deek began to paint in large trickly letters on the big mirror. S.T A R S K Y. He stood back to admire his artwork and giggled.
'Not gonna see him again alive' he muttered as he took the pail and brush and hurried out to the truck to join his friends. When he got back, he saw Starsky's unconscious from laid in the back of the truck, hands bound behind him and blood trickling down the right hand side of his face. He looked pale and his eyes were closed, thick black lashes standing out dark against the cheekbones.
At the side of him Brad grinned.
'Just as Si-mon dreamed. Make the call'.
As Sonny drove, Deek punched in numbers and within moments the worried voice of the blond detective sounded loud in the truck.
Something of the familiar voice tore at the core of Starsky's being and infiltrated his numbed senses. Was Hutch here? Was he going to be saved? His eyes refused to open, but he tried to make a sound, to let his partner know he was there. He shouted as loud as he could, but it came out as nothing but a croaking groan.
Brad looked down at him with a satisfied smile. Carefully he took hold of a handful of chocolate curls, picking the head up from the floor of the truck and as Starsky groaned again, he slammed it down, silencing the cop for the rest of the journey.
