Only If His Eyes Are Blue
Chapter 28
There had been a tacit agreement that Hutch would lead the interview with Marcus and that Bradshaw would play shadow. Not that Hutch considered whatever was about to transpire in this room with its barred windows and reedy light could be construed as an interview or even a dialogue. When one sat in the company of Simon Marcus, one was made to feel like a participant in some sort of metaphysical dance. A dance that Marcus liked to lead, twisting and turning his unwitting partner in some bizarre choreography that had no rhythm and a jarring style.
Hutch was wholeheartedly sick of Simon Marcus. Sick of his self-appointed superiority, sick of his psychological prattle and innuendo and sick of being made to feel that there was always something that Marcus held just out of his reach.
Hutch's first sight of the bearded, heavy browed and dark-eyed cultist, had his already raw and unsettled stomach turning. He bit down on the reaction that he knew would rise up in him, and strove for calm.
He needed to use this time to get some sort of coherent information out of this riddle loving soothsayer – he needed some reassurance that his worst fears about Marcus were unfounded. He needed to know that Marcus was not gunning for Starsky again.
It was almost laughable if it wasn't so damn frightening. He should have said to Marcus to get in line. Starsky was every Sick Fucker's pinup boy these past weeks - he was very much in demand. If Marcus wanted him again - there were only lean pickings left of his partner's poor battered body and mind. Calvetti's sick hand and mind had left little behind for anyone else.
Hutch felt nausea rise in him at the memories of what both of these two Psychos had tried to do - had done - to Starsky.
Bradshaw, true to his intentions, melded quietly into the wall. Marcus barely paid him a fleeting glance. Bradshaw was not his party favor – Hutch knew there was only one man that the prisoner was waiting for, and that was him.
Hutch took a seat across from him; the table between them, the barred small aperture of light behind Marcus, haloing his dark head in a way that to Hutch, just seemed incongruent, almost unjust.
He should be backlit with black light, to match his soul.
The scene and the feel of the two of them was so very similar to another time not so long ago that Hutch had to remember that was in the past – Starsky was not missing this time – he was in fact safe – for now. This time his business with the Cultist was not so gut wrenchingly terrifying. This time he was not chasing down Starsky's whereabouts, fearful that Marcus' puppets had already butchered him. However, the urgency aside, it still felt to Hutch as though the man across the table held all the cards.
It soured Hutch's gut to realize that in the space of only a few moments Marcus' omnipresent stare had trapped him. His piercing, searching gaze fixed him with what almost felt like a cherished appraisal and Hutch felt repelled by the ways his eyes continued to bathe him in looks of blatant admiration.
A sense of calm wonderment lit Marcus' voice.
"You have saved him. You saved him and brought him to safety. The White Knight has given me back my Polaris."
"What do you know about Starsky Marcus? How do you know anything about Starsky or me for that matter?"
"I dream still – even in this prison that you and the law you honor have put me – to try to keep me away from what I have to achieve, from what my destiny is. But even in this prison, even in here – no one can stop Simone from dreaming and seeing. No one can stop Simone from his destiny and his people's destiny."
"Did you place a phone call today Marcus? Did you arrange to have the guards permit you to make a phone call – to come out of your cell and make an unsupervised call?"
"I talk to many people – through dreams and through thoughts."
"Yeah and through telephones – with your voice. Tell me about the call Marcus. Tell me what you know about Starsky. Tell me how you know it and why you need to know it."
"Polaris is safe – that matters greatly to me. Safe and alive – thanks to you. I dreamed that you would save him – from the one who wanted to hurt him, who tried to use him for his own selfish needs. No one hurts Polaris."
"How? How do you know anything about what happened to Starsky? Last time I talked to you, you mentioned things – things that turned out to be real. How did you know those things Marcus? How do you know that Starsky has been found? Has someone in here been feeding you information? Someone who has a contact with our department?"
Marcus folded his hands into a slow clasp and smiled.
"I know that you are already doubting that premise Detective. I can see in your eyes that you are realizing the depth of my visions and the lucidity of my dreams. Isn't that true?"
"Your visions could all be accounted for by inside information that you are being fed."
But even as he said it, Hutch knew that not to be true. The convoluted ramblings Marcus had given him about Starsky's captor could not possibly have come from anyone on the inside of the department. Until the now dead man Marty had surfaced at Huggy's with the film of Starsky's torture, there had not been a single real lead to his whereabouts. And if in fact this bloodthirsty guru sitting before him was gifted with higher perceptual powers, to what end was he using the information?
What did it mean for his partner?
Marcus ignored the statement.
"What is it that brings you here to me today Detective? Your face is filled with fatigue, your eyes speak of pain and worry and your body speaks of untold anger and rage. Why have you brought all of this to me?"
Hutch felt the chair screeching back before he realized he was up and pacing. Bradshaw threw him a quick look of concern.
"OK enough with the social niceties and your touchy feeling looks. You know fucking well why I'm here Marcus. You know fucking well why I'm looking like I look. You wanted me here! You threw out the line and you want me to grab it. So here I am. I'm here! You have your God Damn audience! Now I'm waiting with bated breath for you to tell me why you made the call to the hospital. What do you want with Starsky again?"
"Polaris' welfare is always my concern. He is a bright burning star that I will never allow to burn out until it has reached its zenith."
"Oh for…. I can't do this again Marcus. I won't do this again. Just tell me that you mean no further harm to Starsky and that you will stay out of his life."
"I have just told you that your partner is a crux. His star's burning brightness is ordained by what I dream, not by other's dreams. The predator that hurt him is not what I dreamt for him; it is not what Polaris was meant for. You pulled him back from the mouth of the predator. I dreamed you would do that. I lit your way. I wanted you to find him for me and you did. You have given him back to me."
"I did not find my partner to give him to you. Starsky, Starsky – stop with the Polaris fucking bullshit…is nothing to do with you and you need to let go of him. You need to stop making him part of your sick fantasy and sick dreams. He is a cop, he is my friend, and he is a real person. You've already put him through so much and now he has gone through more – with - "
He pulled himself up short,before he divulged information on Calvetti. He caught the look of relief on Bradshaw's face when he corrected himself.
' - With what has happened to him recently while he was missing. He is not an object that you can crap all over with your satanic shit. I'm asking you – please just leave him alone."
Worn down completely now and not even sure what if anything he was accomplishing with this circuitous interchange, this back and forth verbal volleying, Hutch knew there was not going to be a climatic outcome to this meeting. Marcus had no intention of clarifying his ongoing interest in Starsky and Hutch knew that it was completely pointless in trying to pursue any logical form of questioning with the enigmatic cult leader.
He cast Bradshaw a wilted look of complete and utter resignation and wondered about the time. How long he had been away from the hospital?
Simon Marcus had defeated him even before he entered the room.
There was never going to be a definitive outcome with this paradox. Here was a man who had arranged Starsky's death only weeks earlier and was now claiming to have saved him from the clutches of a similar twisted fate by using his ability to dream and see what others could not.
Pure selfishness was driving him – selfishness and ego. He wanted Polaris, Starsky alive – but only for his own gratuitous evilness. Only so he could be the one to hurt and sacrifice him in the name of some fucked up devil worshipping madness.
What had he possibly thought he could accomplish by coming here today? Dobey was right. He had let his extreme fatigue and over taxed emotional state lead him to yet another fruitless showdown with the master showman himself. Tricks and riddles, smoke- screens and distortions – none of it based on anything that Hutch could get a grip of – get a handle on.
He was a cop for Christ's sake, not a religious zealot or a demon slayer.
"I can see that I've wasted my time coming here to talk to you Marcus. I've wasted my time and I've walked right into whatever it was that you wanted me to walk back into. You phoned the hospital for a reason. Forget dreams and visions. You phoned to let me know two things. You wanted to let me know that you had the power to arrange it – the power to make people here in this prison do what you ask them to do. That alone made you feel pretty big didn't it Marcus? Let the cop know that even in maximum security, there is no holding Simon Marcus back from getting what he wants. Maybe you want me to worry about what else you can arrange to happen from your prison cell hmmnn? Then the second reason you phoned the hospital, was to let me know that you are still obsessing over Starsky. That even after you put him through hell, you want more from him. Isn't that right Marcus? Am I close?"
Nothing. Silence. Just small gentle tipping of the lips, and hooded glances. Hutch watched the slight stiffening of Marcus' spine and he snapped at the silent man. "I can read you now Marcus. You're sitting there and you're full of yourself aren't you? You're thinking - yes, you're so right Hutchinson, I have won again, played you again. Teased and taunted and put you in a corner where you know nothing more than when you came in here. You arrogant self glorified bastard. Well listen to me. Listen good."
Bradshaw's hand came down to touch Hutch's shoulder –but he quickly shrugged it away.
"My partner has been through two terrifying and traumatic ordeals. He can't take anymore. I don't want him to have to take anymore. If you are managing to manipulate people from inside this prison system – and I am damn sure you are – make absolutely certain that you leave my partner out of any of your future plans. You're on the take off strip waiting to fly into the big blue yonder Marcus. Death Row. It can take a little time to taxi down the runway. I know like every other mortal – you want that journey to last as long as it can – even if it means sweating it out in this prison shitbox. You can dream a lot of dreams and have some sick fun in your head while you're waiting. But you mess anymore in Starsky's life – then I will use every conceivable power and pull I have to make sure that waiting time is cut short."
"You come here with your – your backup – to threaten me?"
"Him?"
Hutch gave a bitter laugh and waved his hand at Bradshaw.
"He's not my back-up Marcus – he's your backup. A watchdog to protect you. He's what's keeping me from using more than words to convince you that this is – not a threat – but a – a – promise. I will promise you that if you try to hurt Starsky again I will hurt you. Likewise – I promise to leave you alone – to sit and dream all the shit you want to dream till your number comes up for the Big Day. If - and only if, you leave my partner alone. I haven't got anything else to bargain with Marcus. But – I figure if it was me – shit – I'd choose a few more months, a year maybe – over total oblivion and death."
He sneered at his last few words.
"Unless of course you can dream your dreams when you're dead."
There was a pause again - a silence that Hutch was too tired to fill.
Marcus looked down at his clasped hands and back up at Hutch's face.
"Polaris is safe. You have saved him for me – for yourself too – but it is important that my star is still bright. My message to you - at the hospital - was meant only to convey my joy at what you had achieved. Your anger and vindictiveness that you have brought here before me today is misplaced. You brought it here to me when it would have been better laid at the feet of the one who tried to take Polaris from me."
"I gave him enough of my anger and vindictiveness."
Hutch pushed absently at his bound hand and knew that Marcus' eyes had found the evidence of what he did to Calvetti as soon as he entered the room.
"But I still have plenty to go around if its needed. Don't make me need to spread it Marcus. Let me leave here today with something that tells me you are not going to be in Starsky's life anymore – you or any of your followers that might still be out there. Give me something to walk out of here and know that I won't need to shorten your time on that runway strip."
"Go back to Polaris – go back to him. His time was not meant to be now. His time is not now. Simone dreams only of his continuing brightness."
"Continuing brightness? Well I'll take that. I'll hold onto that. Starsky's continuing brightness for your continuing time to dream here – as long as it lasts."
"You were his White Knight – you pulled him back from the blackness of the one who wanted to take him. I am grateful for what you have done for me. You followed my dreams till you found him safe. Keeping the star burning. For me. "
"Just so you are sure on this. I did nothing for you Simon Marcus. Whatever I did, I didn't do for you. A series of events lead me to finding him. Your dreams might show you some of what happened but they didn't find him. Factual leads and and solid cop work found him. Dream all you like – even about your so-called Polaris. I really don't care. So long as we are both clear on the fact that your dreams don't impinge on our lives."
The door was inviting him to leave and he couldn't wait to be on the other side of it.
"Now our conversation is finished. I need to get back to the hospital - check that my partner's light is still bright and burning. I'll let your friends at the door know that our little meeting time together is over."
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Hutch quietly opened the door to the hospital room, prepared to relieve the cop who was stationed inside with Starsky.
He'd spoken briefly to the plainclothes officer at the door and established that there had been nothing suspicious or untoward go down since he'd taken up his post late that morning.
The second officer – a uniform was sitting in the corner with a coffee by his side and a newspaper spread out before him on a small table.
To his surprise his careful quiet entry was a wasted effort. The unmistakable grumpy tone of an unwell Starsky was a shock to him but music to his ears all the same. He was not prepared to see Starsky so awake and alert when he finally re-entered the hospital room five hours since he'd left it.
A frustrated grunt preceded Starsky's little tirade.
"So you go off , just walk out and leave me here with some overgrown babysitter who has done nothing but stare at me like I'm some circus animal for the past two hours. It's bad enough that I've got tubes coming out of me and going into me in all the wrong places, without having HIM watching me like I'm about to glide off the bed and walk out of here unnoticed."
Starsky's irritable mood meant that he'd found a brief respite from the severe pain - pulled himself together enough to try to fool Hutch that he was fine. It didn't work - but his efforts to allay Hutch's fears meant he was at least feeling a little better.
The young uniform gave an embarrassed cough and straightened up immediately in his chair, flinging the newspaper he had held to the floor and knocking his empty coffee cup over in the process.
"That's not true Sergeant Starsky. You have only been fully awake for half an hour, prior to that you've been sleeping and weren't even aware of my presence. Also I have not been staring at you – I've been reading my paper and remaining alert."
"Alert for what? In case my catheter kinks up? In case I roll out of bed? How much action do you think is gonna happen in a room with a man who is half dead? No make that – three quarters dead."
Hutch felt the bubbling up of suppressed joy – it was finally surging up through the thick layers of exhaustion and what had been expired hope. The familiar cadence of the famous Starsky whine was all it took to allow himself to finally accept that they had somehow both come through all of this – again.
They were on the other side. Cheated loss and cheated death, one more time.
"Well hello to you to Starsk. Nice of you to notice me standing here."
"Thought I just did – and now because you are standing there, can you let this kid go home or back to his precinct or wherever you dragged him from and leave me in God Damn peace with just a shred of my dignity intact. I couldn't even groan in private with him sitting there like some eagle - and I can tell you the way I feel, I could do with a good groan."
"Oh I don't know – what do you think Officer? Would you agree Sergeant Starsky is doing just fine with his groaning?"
The young cop cracked a toothy smile and spluttered to the side before catching sight of the heavy scowl from Starsky. He bent down to retrieve his paper and cup and looked to Hutch for direction.
"I think my partner is right – you can go back to the station now – I'm leaving the plainclothes outside in the hall, but - now that Sergeant Starsky is fully awake I think your work here is done. He'd only make your surveillance hell. Thanks for your cover. Can you let Captain Dobey know that I have relieved you?"
"I'll be sure to do that Sir. "
He made for the door offering a small wave to Starsky who had slid back down into the depths of the bed – bravado and wit fading fast. But he offered the officer some gratitude nonetheless - his voice no where near as strong as it was seconds earlier.
"Yeah – see ya' kid - and - look, thanks. Appreciate ya' watching out for me - for whatever reason Blondie here thought you needed to. You did a good job of keeping me in line."
When the door had closed behind him, Hutch shook his head at the now more subdued Starsky.
"Oh Starsky – the poor kid. He was put here by me because I asked for you to be covered – outside and in here."
"Why the hell for? Calvetti's smashed up good and laid up in another hospital – I got that much out of the kid. Don't look at me like that – its not top secret information. I already knew you creamed him remember? By the way your brow needs a suture, that strip you've got plastered on it ain't gonna do the trick."
Hutch swiped at it absently and felt the fresh blood still oozing. He snatched at a tissue and pressed it hard against the gash.
"Yeah – I know. Maybe later. Not now. You're the one in the bed so stop giving me orders."
"Well someone damn well has to. Busted hand, busted eye – dead on your feet."
"Well, you've got that bit right – let me sit down – I want to hear how you're feeling?"
"Yeah I suggest you sit down Hutch before you damn well fall down. Look at you! How long since you've shut your eyes? How long since you've slept for more than an hour? You look like complete and utter shit."
"Hey - I had a shower when I left here earlier – shower and changed. So I'm a bit tired – I'll catch up now I've – now I know you're going to be OK. "
"Now you've what? You were gonna say – "now I've –"…what? Done what Hutch?"
Hutch had no intention of disclosing anything about what had gone on with Marcus to Starsky – or so he had thought. He just hadn't expected to find him so on top of his game with his thought processes given that only hours ago he had been so out of it.
"I asked you how you're feeling Starsky? Pain levels? How's the pain meds – I hope you're not trying to beat this recovery without the proper amount of pain relief."
"Ha! Says Hutchinson who excels at avoiding pain medication."
"Starsky please…"
"Alright, alright, don't nag me about the pain Hutch – its ok. I just want to wake up a bit more – every time I come to, I get like ten minutes and then I'm out like a light again. I want to stay with it a bit – so you can give me the picture of what happened and what is happening."
"Nothings happening that you need to worry about. Just the usual shit that goes with tying up the loose ends to a case – except this is a case that involves you and so its kept me busy and – and uptight. I'll stay uptight till its all sealed up and Calvetti is behind bars. But that's for me to take care of Starsky – not you. Your job is to lie there, get taken care of and get well. You're not missing out on anything that you need to know about. When you're fully recovered, I'll give you the full story from my side – just like I'll expect the full story from yours – as hard as I know that will be for you buddy. But not now. Now – you are the patient and I am the cop."
Starsky glowered at him, suspicion and doubt on his heavily bruised face.
"So I wake up proper this last time – you're not here but you've set me up with some beady-eyed minder. What gives Hutch? The uniform in here, the plainsclothes outside? Why the heavy duty police protection? "
"Starsky! For God's Sake! Nothing gives. You know that I would worry about you being here in hospital when I have to leave to go into the station to close up the case and file reports and stuff. When I left you were barely conscious – I don't like leaving you like that unattended with only nursing staff to check on you."
"But I'm in hospital Hutch – where patients usually only have nurses to check on them. Calvetti is not here – and I 'm glad you made sure of that – glad you put him somewhere else. But I'm safe now – no need for you to worry OK?"
He winced as he moved and tried to shuffle about to find a better position.
"Starsky you need some more medication – I can tell. Don't think I can't read you like a book. Don't think you fooled me with your tough man act in front of the cop either. That shit doesn't wash with me."
"Yeah well – felt – felt better I guess. Just so tired and –"
"And in pain. Lots of pain. I'm buzzing her."
"Shit! Don't want to go to sleep again Hutch. Hate it when I sleep. And I get the feeling that there's more you need to tell me and you're not – and because I still feel so sleepy I can't think straight enough or long enough to work it out."
"All you need to work out is how to rest up and get better – better for me because I can tell you Starsky, I need to see you well and walking around again, whole and in one piece. When I found you in that room – and before that – before when I didn't know what had happened to you or what he'd done to you – I was going through pure hell buddy. It was a living hell."
"Hey – it's OK Hutch. It OK. Don't get upset again. I can tell you're at your end with all of this worry – so OK – push that damn buzzer will you. Bring on some more dope because you're right. My fucking chest and head are on fire."
Hutch shook his head while pushing hard at the buzzer.
"God you are one stubborn pain in the ass. I should have buzzed her as soon as I came in and not got sidetracked with your little tantrum routine."
Ten minutes later when the nurse had withdrawn from the room, Hutch had Starsky settled down again, the pain relief coursing through his veins and already working its magic. He was relieved to see the pinched lips on his partner's face relaxing into a softer repose. Starsky's hand that had gripped so hard at his own only minutes before was starting to relax its desperate hold, the fingers falling lax and loose inside of Hutch's big palm.
"There – there. Better? Pain easing some Starsk?"
"Yep – yeah ….ya' right …pain is …shit. But hate sleep…scared I'll wake up and …be back there Hutch. Scared that this is all….just dream too."
"No its not. No dream. I'm sitting here, with my busted eye and all, looking at you. And, I tell you what buddy. I am so freakin' tired myself, I'm going to stretch out in this chair right beside you and have a good sleep too. I figure I won't even know I'm in a chair. So when you wake – just look over and see me – sitting here sleeping too and you'll know straight away it's real."
He squeezed the relaxed hand one more time for good measure and laid his bandaged hand on the side of the bruised face, feeling the eyes beneath his fingers finally closing shut.
"Then you'll know Starsk – you'll know for sure – the nightmare is over."
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH SH
Ok readers - We are coming to the end of Only If His Eyes Are Blue. Just to let you know that there is only ONE more remaining chapter for this story.
I hope to have the final chapter written and up as soon as possible.
What a wonderful audience you have all been. Thank you so much for reading along and enjoying - yet another dark story from me.
One day soon, one day, there will be a light one.
But in the meantime I still have Part 3 of If I Can't Have You, Then Neither Can He to write, which I will be starting very soon.
XXKerry
