CHAPTER 29
Tina Barlow scuffed her sneakers through the debris in the vacant lot. Sometimes she got lucky during her nocturnal scavenging and found useable items that she could take back to the abandoned building where she slept with her two younger siblings. Since their mother had overdosed on heroin three months ago, Tina and her two little sisters had been on their own. Although she was only twelve, Tina was determined to keep the three of them together. Taking care of Sylvia and Marcy was something Tina had done for most of her life and she was good at it, better than her mother had ever been.
A shuffling movement in the darkness to her right startled her badly. She stopped and stood still, listening intently. Although this neighborhood consisted mainly of burned out and abandoned buildings, it still was a dangerous place to be in after dark. More than once, Tina had stumbled over a junkie shooting up or a couple making out. She took a cautious step forward.
Tina gasped when she made out the figure of a man lying face down in a pile of garbage. His clothes were torn and dirty, stained dark with blood in several places. Falling to her knees beside the man, Tina was torn between her instinct to help and her instinct to run. Her trembling fingers reached out towards the mattered, tangled hair that hung in the man's face. In the darkness it was hard to tell what color it was. When the man suddenly drew in a shallow, ragged breath, Tina bit back a sharp cry of terror and jumped to her feet. Turning on her heel, she ran in the opposite direction and didn't stop running until she reached the abandoned building she shared with her siblings.
Darting into the dark interior of the old hotel, she made her way through the darkness to a room on the first floor tucked away underneath the crumbling stairway. Quietly opening the door, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her.
"Sissy?" Marcy's trembling voice whispered from a dark corner of the room.
"Yeah, it's me," Tina said, keeping her trembling voice carefully under control as she crept across the room to the bare, moth eaten mattresses where her two younger sisters huddled together for warmth and security in her absence. Tina reached into the pocket of her threadbare jacket and pulled out two candy bars that she handed to her sisters.
"Thank you," Marcy whispered, tearing open the candy and taking a bite. Her four year old sister, Sylvia, stirred and reached out for her candy bar, clutching it tightly in her pudgy little hand. The youngest of the Barlow sisters had been born deaf, a disability that her drug addicted mother chose to ignore and neglect just like she did the needs of her other children.
"Eat your candy." Tina instructed the two younger girls. "Then go back to sleep."
"Are you going back out?" Marcy asked in a worried voice. She was only eight and hated it when Tina had to go out to find them food, leaving her alone with Sylvia.
"No, not tonight." Tina said, still shaken by her discovery of the man's body in the vacant lot. She had learned at an early age not to get involved with anyone else's problems, she had enough of her own to deal with. Still, the man's situation frightened her. She knew that someone had thrown him in the garbage heap and left him there to die, not an uncommon event in the inner streets of the city.
Even if she wanted to help him, it was too dangerous. She couldn't go to the police. They probably wouldn't believe her anyway. And she had her sisters to consider. She couldn't take the chance of anyone finding out that they were alone in the world. They would end up in foster care and get separated. She couldn't let that happen. Chewing on the edge of a ragged fingernail, she sat on the mattress beside her sisters and stared into the darkness. A single teardrop slipped down her cheek as she hugged her knees to her chest and began rocking back and forth.
Across the country, Starsky awoke from a restless slumber, his face wet with sweat and his heart pounding wildly. "Hutch!" he cried out into the darkness. The nightmare had been so vivid; he could still hear Hutch's voice echoing in his ears, crying out for help.
The first rays of the rising sun were starting to lighten the eastern sky. Starsky sighed and crawled out of his bunk. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get anymore sleep. He began to pace his cell trying to work off his nervous tension and anxiety.
When the guard came around with the breakfast trays, he was accompanied by a second guard who unlocked Starsky's cell and motioned for him to step into the corridor.
Starsky took a cautious step forward. With the guards he never knew what to expect. Too many unprovoked attacks had taught him to be wary and on guard at all times.
The guard looked at Starsky with a smirk and said, "Get your stuff together. You're being moved."
"Why? I didn't do nothing." Starsky said defensively.
"I don't know why the fuck you're being moved." The guard snapped "I just got orders to move you. Now get your stuff together like you were told!"
Silently, Starsky turned and stepped back into his cell. Under the watchful eye of the guard, he began to gather his few possessions together. He didn't have much. His letters and legal papers, an extra change of clothes, and the bible that every prisoner was issued when they were transferred to the prison. There were a few snapshots, pictures of him and Hutch, his mother, and Nicky. He put everything in a pillow case and turned to face the guard again.
The guard took his arm and led him down the corridor past the jeering, spitting prisoners and to another part of the prison. It wasn't solitary confinement but it was a section for prisoners who were considered to be in protective custody for one reason or another or who were awaiting transfer to another facility. Starsky frowned wondering about his abrupt move to another section of the prison entirely. He knew better than to question the guard. He assumed that he would find out soon enough why he was being moved. The guard escorted him to his new cell and left him there to get settled in. Since he was the only prisoner in the cell block, the sudden quiet was unnerving after having grown accustomed to the constant noise and chaos of death row. It didn't take long to get squared away leaving him at a loss as to what to do next. He finally settled for lying on his bunk and closing his eyes, letting himself get lost in memories of happier times.
He must have dozed off. A sound in the corridor awakened him. He opened his eyes expecting to see a guard with his lunch tray. His stomach growled loudly reminding him that he had missed breakfast because of his sudden move from one cell to another. He was surprised to see Lew standing in the hallway peering at him through the bars.
Bouncing to his feet, Starsky crossed the short distance between them. He grabbed the bars that separated them and said, "What's going on? What are you doing here?"
"I have news and I wanted to deliver it in person." Lew said. His face remained immobile, his expression not giving any indication as to why he was there.
"They set a date for the execution?" Starsky said, voicing the first thought that came to mind.
"No, nothing like that." Lew reassured him "As a matter of fact, the governor has issued a stay of execution pending a full investigation into some new evidence that has been uncovered concerning your case."
"What kind of evidence?"
"Evidence of jury tampering, witnesses who were paid off for their testimony, and a general conspiracy to frame you for the murder of George Prudolm." Lew said with a slight smile.
For the first time in months, Starsky let a brief smile cross his lips and the flutter of hope to ebb in his chest. "Is there going to be a new trial?"
"I'll know more about that in a few days after all the evidence is evaluated." Lew told him. "In the meantime, I had you moved here for your own safety. If all goes well, you could be transferred back to Bay City in a few days."
'Hutch? Is Hutch back from New York?" Starsky asked, remembering his early morning nightmare.
"No, not yet." Lew said evasively, underestimating the bond between the two detectives and not realizing that Starsky would immediately read between the lines and expect the worst.
"He's hurt, isn't?" Starsky whispered. His face paled as another thought occurred to him. "He's not…d-dead…is he?"
"We don't know. At the moment he's missing." Lew admitted realizing that he had nothing to gain by hiding the truth for the perceptive man in front of him. "But the entire NYPD is looking for him and I'm sure that they'll find him soon."
Starsky's eyes darkened and his shoulders slumped. In a carefully controlled voice he said, "Yeah, I'm sure they will." He turned and walked stiffly back over to his bunk, flopping down on top of the mattress and throwing his arm up over his face. Lew sighed and turned to walk away. He wondered if his news had been as welcomed as he had hoped it would be.
