CHAPTER 9
Starsky checked it at the agency as required at his scheduled time thankful to learn that he didn't have an assignment for the evening even though it was a Saturday night. He was even more pleased when Shelia told him that he didn't have to be on call that night either. That meant he could spend more time with his injured partner. As soon as he could get away, he went to the hospital to visit with Hutch. He stopped by Hutch's apartment on the way to pick up clothes for him to wear home the next day. He found the big blond awake and cranky when he arrived.
"Hey, Blondie. You giving these pretty nurses a hard time?" Starsky said as he breezed into the room.
"I haven't seen any pretty nurses…they all look like my grandmother." Hutch grumbled.
"You didn't let them give you anything for the pain, did ya?" Starsky guessed. He knew that Hutch had a phobia about taking anything stronger then Tylenol for pain since a forced addiction a few years ago.
"It doesn't hurt that bad."
"Bull. Tell me another one, dummy, 'cause that ain't gonna fly."
"I'm okay. I can handle it." Hutch insisted stubbornly. "Really."
"Sure you can," Starsky said with a fond smile as he reached out to clasp Hutch's right hand with his left. The two exchanged a silent glance that spoke volumes without saying a word. Starsky knew better than to try and argue with Hutch about the pain meds. He had his mind made up and wasn't about to change it. If his injuries had been any worse, Starsky would have overruled him and used his medical power of attorney to make sure that Hutch didn't suffer needlessly.
Starsky stayed until after Hutch had eaten supper. By then he was starting to lag and Hutch insisted that Starsky go home so he could get some sleep. If Hutch had been seriously injured, Starsky would never have left no matter what Hutch said.
He decided to stop by the Pits since he didn't feel like returning to that stuffy room just yet. With his contacts on the street maybe Huggy had heard something about Hutch's assault or had some new information on the escort murders. It wasn't crowded so Starsky opted for a seat at the bar instead of a table.
"Where's your better half?" Huggy asked as he automatically sat a beer down in front of Starsky.
"Somebody jumped him this morning and beat him up pretty bad." Starsky said "He's at Memorial."
"Oh, man…I hadn't heard about that. Is Blondie okay?" Huggy said in a concerned voice.
"He will be. The doc's letting him go home in the morning. He's got a lot of cuts and bruises, a sprained knee and some broken ribs."
"Any idea who jumped him?"
"No, I was hoping maybe you'd heard something."
"Nada, but I'll keep my ears open. But, I did hear another rumor that you might be interested in." Huggy said
"What'd ya hear?" Starsky asked with interest.
Huggy leaned over the bar so that nobody could hear him but Starsky. In a loud whisper, he said, "Rumor has it that your slasher murders are somehow connected to a private sex club operating somewhere in the city."
"A private sex club?" Starsky repeated with a frown. "Could be a tie in with the escort service. Some of the escorts have their own little side businesses going. Maybe one of them is working for the sex club. See if you can find out anything else for me." He pulled a twenty out of his pocket and palmed it, discreetly passing the money across the bar to Huggy.
"You got it," Huggy said as he pocketed the bill. Even though Huggy often provided them with information free of charge, Starsky and Hutch tried to pay him something whenever they could. Of course they could put any payment they made on their expense sheet and get reimbursed by the department eventually. "You eating or just wetting your whistle?"
"Give me a two cheeseburgers and a double order of fries." Starsky told him.
"Coming right up," Huggy said. He walked over to the pass over window to give the cook Starsky's order. Since the bar wasn't busy it wouldn't take long to prepare the food for the hungry detective.
Over the next two hours business picked up until the bar was crowded and noisy. After finishing his third beer, Starsky decided it was time to call it a night and head back to the hotel. He had promised Hutch he'd be at the hospital first thing in the morning to take him home. Although it had been a stressful day and he was exhausted, physically and emotionally, Starsky found that he couldn't sleep. Thankfully the next day was Sunday so he had the next two days off. That meant he could spend more time with Hutch.
Frustrated at his bout of insomnia, Starsky turned on the snowy black and white TV that came with the room and flipped through the available channels until he found an old Clark Gable movie to watch in spite of the poor reception. He finally managed to fall into a restless slumber waking up on his own around seven a.m., which was unusual for the brunet since he was definitely not a morning person like his early rising partner.
He arrived at the hospital shortly after eight to find Hutch already awake and in the process of trying to get dressed by himself.
"Hold on, Blondie and I'll give you a hand." Starsky said striding to his partner's side. He carefully eased Hutch's arms into the loose fitting tee shirt that he had brought for Hutch to wear home. He smoothed it down over the lean, muscular torso careful not to disturb the bandaged ribs. Then he settled down with his partner to wait until his paperwork was processed so Hutch could leave the hospital. Waiting to be told he was free to go home was always annoying and Hutch was already irritable because of his various injuries.
Finally, a nurse came in with a wheelchair and his discharge papers. He scrawled his signature at the bottom of the form and handed the discharge instructions to Starsky who put them in his jacket pocket. The nurse pushed the wheelchair down to the lobby and waited with Hutch while Starsky retrieved the Torino from the hospital parking lot. Hutch let out a deep sigh of relief when he was finally settled in the front seat beside his partner.
Starsky pulled out of the parking lot and turned left easily merging with the flow of rush hour traffic. Since the doctor had given Hutch two prescriptions, Starsky stopped at a pharmacy two blocks from Hutch's apartment to get them filled while Hutch impatiently waited in the car.
When he arrived at Venice Place, Starsky looked at his partner and said sternly "Stay put, Blondie and I'll come around and help you out."
Starsky walked around to the opposite side of the car and opened the door reaching in to help a sore and stiff Hutch from the car. Keeping one arm wrapped securely around his partner's waist, Starsky helped Hutch up the stairs to his second floor apartment. He used his own key to Hutch's apartment to unlock the door. He guided Hutch over to the sofa and gently eased him down on the cushions in a reclining position before going back and closing the door.
"You want anything?" Starsky asked after making sure that Hutch was resting comfortably.
"Maybe some juice." Hutch said in a tired voice.
"Want me to fix you something to eat?"
"No, just the juice. I'm not hungry." Hutch told him.
Starsky grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and poured a glass of orange juice for his friend. Carrying the glass over to the sofa, he handed it to Hutch along with two of the extra strength Tylenol that the doctor had prescribed for pain. Hutch obediently took the pills and drank the juice, then he settled down and closed his eyes ready for a nap. While he slept, Starsky sat in a nearby chair and read a book so he would be close at hand in case Hutch needed anything.
Caring for each other when one of them was sick or hurt just came naturally to the two men. It was simply part of the unique bond that defined their relationship. It was an extraordinary bond that few people understood but everyone who knew them envied. It was the reason they worked so well together and had the best arrest record in the city. They weren't jut partners. They weren't just best friend. They were true soul mates in every sense of the word.
