Chapter 11
Hutch let himself into his house without bothering to switch the light on. In the semi darkness, he negotiated his furniture to the kitchen with practised ease and took a bottle of beer from the fridge. Popping the cap, he took a long, deep chug of the icy brown liquid and closed his eyes as it left a satin soft trail down his throat, his mind, for a moment pleasantly blank.
It didn't stay that way for very long, however and as the blond cop stared morosely into the darkness, the beer didn't seem to take away any of his troubles. Dark thoughts of Starsky injured or worse and alone whirled around his head like a dervish on a holy day – thoughts that Hutch had tried to keep at bay whilst the possibility of information from Piraglia had been on the cards. Now there was just a sickening blackness filling his stomach – a knowledge that he'd been on a wild goose chase, reading signs that weren't there because he wanted to see them. His desperation to find his partner and his love for the smaller man had clouded his judgement and cast aside his years of police training. Investigation 101 – take out the emotion and you're left with the truth. Hutch had ignored that basic rule and now he and Starsky were paying for it. Damn!
With a grunt, Hutch rummaged in the back of his cupboard seeking something else to take away the sourness in his stomach and the self recrimination in his head. His hand closed on something hard and cold and brought out a bottle of brandy, unopened and slightly dusty. It was a left over from the days when he was with Van and he could still remember the recipe for the perfect Brandy Alexander. Right now though, cream and sugar were the last things on his mind. Hutch opened the bottle and without bothering to find a glass, he put the bottle neck to his lips and let the fiery liquid pour a blazing trail down his throat.
With the fire of the hard liquor came some clarity. The clarity however only intensified the feeling that for the past couple of days, Hutch had been wasting valuable time chasing the wrong guy. The look of shear apathy in Ricardo Piraglia's eyes and the state of the flake's apartment told Hutch all he needed to know. Piraglia was crazy – officially and irreversibly crazy, but he wasn't the one who'd taken Starsky. Whatever had gone on in the past between Starsky and the man, Piraglia had neither the wits nor wherewithal to take a fit, athletic man like Dave Starsky without a fight and without any sign of a struggle.
Hutch sat down on his sofa with a curse and put his head in his hands. Two days. Two fuckin' days wasted. Two days longer of Starsky being missing; two days more of missing the stupid jokes, the slightly lop-sided grin, the curly hair and the easy banter. Two further days during which Hutch missed his buddy like the ocean misses the sand or the night misses the day. They were meant to be together; they were meant to be partners and Hutch knew he would always trust the brunet with his life, however long they worked together.
You're my Pal Hutch. If we were cowboys, I'd give ya my boots.
Starsk!
C'mon buddy, gimme a sign here. I wanna help. I wanna find ya!
Hutch's ruminations were interrupted by the insistent ringing of his telephone. The blond lifted his head and stared at the instrument as though it were a serpent ready to strike. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't really want anything to do with the outside world and for a moment, Hutch considered leaving the phone to ring. He turned his back on the dumb phone and took another draught of brandy, the fumes from the bottle making his nose wrinkle.
Ring.
Ring.
The noise of the bell started to eat at him.
Ring.
It could be news – it could be Dobey telling him that he'd found Starsky.
Ring.
Or it could be the coroner's office, or the hospital……or the morgue. Whatever it was, it could be some news that would put an end to Hutch feeling like the end of the world was in sight and so finally he got himself off the sofa and picked up the receiver.
'Hutchinson' he said, his voice a flat monotone.
'Ken, is that you?'
Relieved that it was his sister and yet irked that once again there was no news of his partner, Hutch tried to calm his beating heart. 'Hey Sis. Sorry about earlier, I got an urgent call, and I had to go out.'
'Police business?'
'Kinda, yeah. What did you want to tell me? Something about Dad?'
There was a pause and then Hutch heard Karen take a deep breath. 'I know you and Dad have had a bad time recently….'
'Not bad at all – we just haven't spoken for three years. That's not bad, that's silence.' The blond tried unsuccessfully to keep the hurt from his voice.
'…… but there's something you need to hear Ken.'
'Uh huh?'
'Dad's been getting sick for a while and um…..well he's getting worse.'
'Is it fatal? Has he got cancer or something?' Hutch couldn't imagine the ramrod straight, well built Dr Hutchinson being sick. It didn't fit with the image of the controlling, dominating man Hutch remembered from his youth. His Dad had made it quite clear that when his only son passed up on a good medical career to become a cop he was somehow letting the family down. When Hutch took Starsky to meet the Hutchinsons, the brunet was met with cold civility and Hutch had been taken none too gently to one side to be told in no uncertain terms that mixed race, Jewish men from the wrong side of New York were not the sort of people the Hutchinsons associated with. Hutch had stood his ground and had tried to explain the friendship he had with Starsky, but Dr Hutchinson didn't want to listen, and if the doctor didn't listen, then neither did Mrs Hutchinson. In disgust Hutch had made his excuses, cut the visit short and had one final acrimonious telephone call with his Dad before severing contact with the older man. Both Hutch and Dr Hutchinson were too proud to back down and make the first move and so for three long years the argument had festered between them until it had developed into a black, wide cavern which neither man thought they would ever be able to close.
'No, nothing like that Ken. In a way it's worse.' There was a slight break in Karen's voice and Hutch wanted instantly to hug his younger sister and tell her that everything was going to be ok. Instead his voice softened and he held the phone tighter.
'Tell me.'
'It started a couple of years ago and at first we didn't think anything was too wrong. I mean Dad was always a workaholic and sometimes he didn't come home for a couple of days when he was engrossed in his research, but he started staying at his clinic later and later and coming home to talk about his research.'
'Well that'd piss Mom off. No more cocktail parties for her to organise and no more gold to dig.'
'Ken!'
'Sorry…..go on. You said he told you about his work – that's a first. Old man Hutchinson always played his research close to his chest. I think he didn't trust anyone – even his family in case they gave his little secrets away.'
'Well however he used to be, he changed. He started to get obsessed with his work to the extent that his nurses and technical staff started to leave. He went from stickler for protocol to monster. He shouted at them and accused them of selling his work to the highest bidder and they started to complain that he was asking the impossible of them. Pretty soon, Dad had to hire more help and then the clinic started to get into financial difficulty. He still worked 48 hours at a stretch, but he clammed up – wouldn't tell us what he was working on – only that it would make him famous. Mom tried her hardest to cope, but Dad had all the accounts in his name. It came to a head one day when Mom went out to get the groceries and three of her credit cards were refused.'
'My God! Why didn't you tell me?'
'You couldn't have done anything. Mom was in denial and Dad was getting more and more obsessed with his research. He told us nothing other than that he was close to a breakthrough and that he'd be rolling in money when his new wonder drug was released.'
'And has it been? I mean, there is a drug he's working on, is there? It's not just a figment of his imagination? Has anyone tried to help him – I mean real, medical help?'
Karen sighed again. 'He told us he was fine. We tried to get his friend Alan, you know, the psychiatrist from Baltimore to see him, but Dad wouldn't talk to him.'
'So where is he now? I mean, I'd come home to help, but right now St…I have a missing person to trace.'
'Make that two Ken.'
It was Hutch's turn to hitch a breath. 'How's that?'
'Dad has been missing now for about two weeks. We don't know where he is. The cops here are worse than useless. I wanted to tell you sooner, but Mom wouldn't hear of it. Their theory is that Dad has gone away with a women somewhere and that he'll come back when he's good and ready.'
'And what do you think?'
'You know Dad Ken. Much as I know you've had your differences, you know he's always been faithful to Mom. They're like two peas in a pod – they've always been inseparable. Why would he take off and leave with some other woman huh?'
Hutch nodded to himself. His Mom and Dad were inseparable – sickeningly so. It had been a long standing joke with Karen that you couldn't get a cigarette paper between them, they were so close.
'What do you want me to do?' the blond asked.
'Help me. Help me to find him……please?'
Hutch sighed deeply. Peachy! Any other time he would have instantly cast his differences with his Dad aside if not for Dr Hutchinson then for his sister who he loved dearly. But with Starsky still missing and with no clues in sight…..
'Karen I'd love to help, you know I would, but…..'
'I thought you were bigger than that Ken. I thought you of all people would be able to…..'
'No Karen. Honey you don't understand. It's not that I won't help, its just that I can't. Right now Starsky is missing. He has been for some time and I need to find him.'
'And he means more to you than your own father?'
'Yes.' The words were out of his mouth before Hutch had time to consider, but it was the truth. In a way, the curly haired brunet meant more to him than his Mom and Dad put together. Starsky was the one who was always there for him, not matter what and that was in stark contrast to Hutch's parents who had farmed him out to either the maid or his Grandfathers while they travelled the country promoting Dr Hutchinsons work. 'No, I mean……its complicated Karen. But what I can do is get one of the guys here to investigate. We have a good team and I can think of a couple of the guys who're better'n me at missing persons.'
'But you won't look for your own Dad yourself?'
Hutch closed his eyes, a wave of pain coursing through his head. 'It's not like you think Poochy. It's just…..'
'I know, Starsky means the world to you. I'm not stupid Ken, I know how close you are. I shouldn't have rung. Forget it, I'll let the cops here in Duluth deal with it.'
'Karen, I didn't mean…..'
'Leave it Ken. Find Starsky and then maybe you can help. I hope you find him safe and well. Bye.'
Hutch was left holding the phone and feeling like seven shades of a bastard. The choice was stark – find Starsky or find his Dad and for once, Hutch didn't want to choose. Despite his differences with his father, he was still his own flesh and blood and yet he never gave Hutch the friendship and affection that Starsky managed to do with just one wink of his indigo blue eye.
Feeling a headache starting to pound at the back of his eyes, Hutch replaced the receiver, padded barefoot into his bedroom and lay down on the bed without the energy to get undressed. The pillow felt soft beneath his head and the night time sounds from outside his open window lulled him into a sleep filled with dreams, memories and the desire to find the two men.
