Safe House
Chapter 10
Starsky opened his eyes a little. Crap, who the hell's Barerra. What now? He opened his mouth to speak, but Dennis was continuing.
'Mr Ramsey, it has become even more important to me that you tell us where the money is. You might have heard of Mr Ramirez? It seems he got rather fed up with life in general and has committed suicide, ably assisted by some policemen from LA. However, Mr Ramirez was only another brick in a rather larger wall, and Mr Barberra will be coming here very soon. He wants the money just as much as I do, and his powers of persuasion are even greater than Tyrone's. Have you ever seen a Colombian necktie, Mr Ramsey? It isn't pretty when the throat is cut in such a way that the tongue can be pulled down through the incision. I wouldn't want that to happen to you, after this conversation we have been having. So I'm going to give Tyrone one more chance to allow you to tell me where the fucking money is', the last coming out in a shout.
He signalled to Tyrone who walked over to the choice of instruments he'd brought into the room at the beginning of the session, making plans for his next session.
Starsky closed his eyes, trying to make the picture in front of him go away. He hurt too much. Why the hell was he putting himself through this for some lousy two bit drug dealer who he'd only just met? Crap, he could be back having a meal with Hutch, or a drink at Huggys, or even a visit to the dentist would be better than this. But then visions of broken bodies started forming. Young girls washed up on snow and horse, greasy hair and red rimmed eyes staring back at him from too pale skin. Or young men with what would have been all their lives ahead of them found dead in some alley way, veins exposed and bleeding, often with the needle still stuck in there. He knew then, that if he could hold on a while longer, there was a chance, just a small chance the big dealer, this Barerra would be caught.
Bernie could stand it no longer. He didn't like Tyrone, he was nasty and had hurt Bernie. The man on the floor – he called himself Starsky, didn't he? (why did Dennis keep calling him Ramsey?)– didn't deserve all this. He was nice and he'd been kind and talked to him. He didn't treat Bernie like an idiot like the others did. He'd given him a job to do, just like Dennis did.
Bernie weighed up his choices. He could help the man on the floor and stop Tyrone from hurting him any more, but that would make Dennis mad, or he could keep Dennis happy, but would have to watch as Starsky got hurt some more. He made his decision. He got up slowly and quietly went out of the room to the telephone in the kitchen unnoticed as the others were intent on the scenario now being played out.
Picking up the telephone, he dialled 911. The voice on the other end of the telephone asked him what he wanted and he asked to speak to Captain Dobey.
'Is that the police, ambulance or fire service, caller?'
'I……I don't know. I just need to speak to Captain Dobey. His friend is in trouble. Help me'. Bernie felt frustrated. He wanted to help but he was too dumb.
The operator was confused. Which service did this man want, or was it just another prank call from another kid. But the voice didn't sound like a kid, and in her line of work, you could never be too careful. She decided that she ought to take it as a serious call, and as the caller mentioned someone was in trouble, she plumped for what she hoped was the right service.
'Hello, caller, please hold whilst I connect you to Bay City Police Dept……….go ahead caller, you're through'.
Bernie waited as a female voice said 'Bay City Police, how may I help?'
'I need to speak to Captain Dobey, now' Bernie was getting angry. 'I gotta speak to him before Dennis comes in, please hurry'.
Mildred was uncertain. 'What is this about Sir, who is Dennis?'
'Dennis is my brother and he'll be mad at me. I need to speak to Captain Dobey, please', he hissed into the receiver.
Mildred was still unsure. The caller spoke like a child but had the voice of a man. Was someone playing a hoax? Dobey wouldn't take kindly to interruptions now, not with one of his officers being missing, but something about the call made her decide. 'Please hold caller, I'll put you through'.
Another wait. Bernie was getting anxious now, in case he was found out. Finally he heard a gruff voice.
'This is Dobey, who am I speaking to?'
Bernie swallowed hard. 'This is Bernie. Mr Starsky said I have to tell you he needs help'.
Dobey was on his feet yelling down the phone 'Where's Starsky? Is he alright? What have you done with him?
'He's in Dennis' house and Tyrone is hurting him. You have to come and get him. Dennis is mad and he does horrible things when he's mad' Bernie blurted.
The black man realised that this wasn't you normal tip off. He had to handle this differently. It was like talking to a chlld.
'Slow down, son. Who's Dennis?' he softened his voice.
'He's my brother, but he'll be mad if he knows I'm talking to you'.
'That's OK Bernie. Where is Starsky?'
'He's at Dennis' house' Bernie said angrily. He'd told Dobey that once already. Wasn't he listening?
'Where is Dennis' house, Bernie?'
'Its in the countryside. Its near a Seven Eleven'.
'What's the address?' Dobey pressed him.
'I……I don't know. Dennis once told my friends where it was, but I don't remember' he heard Dennis' voice. 'I gotta go now. Dennis is coming. Are you coming to help Mr Starsky?' and put the phone down.
Dobey was left staring at the receiver. 'Shit' he spat. He sat down heavily, wiping at his forehead with a large white handkerchief. He reached for the phone again.
'Mildred, get me a patch through to Hutchinson'. He waited. 'Hutch, I've just had a phone call from someone called Bernie who says Starsky is at his brother's house. He's being hurt, and no, I don't have the address. This guy Bernie was simple or somethin'. Didn't know the address, but said his friends did. Only thing he gave me was that the house was near a Seven Eleven. Does it mean anything?'
Out in the car, Hutch thought for a moment, the thing that had been bothering him all day now surfacing. 'I think it might, Cap. Get back to ya'.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Hutch swung the big red car around, causing Huggy to hit his head against the side window. He slapped the mars light on top of the roof and gunned the big engine, eliciting a deep throaty growl from the powerful V8, as he roared off down the highway, side slipping in his hurry to get to his destination. Sweat beaded on his lip as he tried to get every ounce of power out of the car, wanting it to fly, wanting to get the information he needed to be able to rescue his partner. What had Dobey said? The informant said Starsky was being hurt. Shit! Hang on buddy, just hang on, I'm gonna get to ya.
'Ya want to share, my man?' Huggy asked, straightening his hat
'That's what I've been trying to remember all night, Hug. The thing that was in my dreams. Its those guys in the window at the diner. The ones playing chequers. One of them mentioned Big B not being there and him being away with his family. I think they might know this Bernie'.
'Worth a try. At this point anything is worth a try. What makes you put two an' two together?' Huggy agreed.
'They said the guy at the convenience store near the jail seemed 'simple'. He was screamin' and causing a diversion. The guys playing chequers were the same, and Dobey said the man who tipped him off just now was like a child. Its all we got to go on.'
They drew up outside the diner and Hutch was out of the car almost before the engine had stopped. He went inside followed by the black man and searched the window seats for the men. There was no sign of the men and the blonde hurried over to the counter. The waitress ambled over to him, remembering the handsome blond from the previous two days.
'What can I get ya?' she asked laconically.
Hutch gave her his best "I'm a nice guy" smile. 'The guys who play chequers over there. They been in today?
She looked in the direction of the window seats. 'Nah, they won't be in till later on now, say 5.30?'
Hutch looked at his watch. 2.30. Three hours to wait. 'Do ya know where I can find them?'
'I'm a waitress, not their keeper' she replied, half heartedly wiping the counter top with a dirty rag.
The blond sighed, knowing the only thing he could do would be to wait the three interminable hours until he could question the men. He took a seat in the closest booth and settled in to wait.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Tyrone approached the weary brunette with a predatory air. He licked his lips, trying to decide what he should try first. He'd practiced his skills before, but there was always room for improvement. But his subjects didn't often last long enough for him to really get into his stride. This guy was one tough son of a bitch. He was amazing really and on one level, Tyrone actually admired him. On another level, however, he really just wanted to hurt him some more.
He motioned Bobby to pick up the body and carry it over to an upright chair. Starsky was beyond struggling. He allowed himself to be thrown onto the chair, hissing through his teeth as the jolt sent spikes of pain through his body. Bobby tied his arms behind his back, stretching the broken wrist painfully. His legs were tied to the front legs of the chair. His chin rested on his chest, it being too big an effort to raise it up, as he watched Tyrone reach for the kettle.