Chapter Five

Hutch lay in bed, curled in a ball, his eyes closed. A door opened, then the shuffle of feet as someone approached. He didn't move. There was no point. They would not speak to him or even acknowledge his existence.

Soon, the aroma of food permeated the air and the footsteps retreated. This was followed by the sound of a door closing, the lock clicking in place, the sign that he was again alone. Silence filled the room, punctuating by the steady tick of the mantle clock.

Hutch slept, dreamed, and remembered the mistakes he made. And what it had cost him.

He no longer believed Starsky was alive.

He'd figured it out last month when he saw a report on TV about Keith and Starsky resigning from the force after losing an informant under their protection. He'd screamed, knowing what it meant.

After that, the tiny television had been removed and he was no longer allowed to read the newspaper. That had ended his contact with the outside world.

Hutch stopped eating, no longer bathed, or cared whether he wore clothes or even what happened to him. Keith visited, but refused to answer questions about Starsky, telling him to be patient.

Keith was his brother, his twin brother. They looked so alike that even Hutch admitted that he would have trouble telling them apart. Hutch figured his twin kept him alive because he liked that they were identical. He took great care of him, the way you would a favored pet.

Hutch forced himself up and stood looking out at the lake. The vista reminding him of the freedom he once enjoyed. He hadn't been free for nearly a year. His mind had sunk into the abyss, the way solitary confinement could do to a man.

He was weak, uncaring. He'd lost the most important person in his life. Nothing else mattered, and yet, it did.

Hutch was in prison, but it was a gilded cage, a room more than fifteen-hundred square feet with sand-colored furnishings, overlooking Lake Michigan, in the suburbs of Chicago.

There was a king-sized bed with a floor to ceiling bookshelf opposite. The books that lined it ranged from classic to contemporary. They represented his entertainment now that the television and newspaper were gone.

Hutch wasn't allowed to speak with anyone but Keith. At one time, he thought he could use this to his advantage. He'd planned to befriend his brother, show him that he could be trusted, that they could have a relationship as brothers. He'd met some success, with his twin telling him about his life, about the woman he was with, and the guards outside. They'd all met many years before in a foster home, he'd explained. They were all his kidnappers.

There were others, faceless men who had kept watch over Starsky.

Outside, the waves crashed against the shore, taking him back to days where he sailed and sat tanning himself on the beach. Sometimes he looked out the back window, at the golf and tennis courts, at the swimming pool. Sometimes, he imagined himself sitting outside, letting the sun warm him, Starsky sitting contently by his side.

His life was desolate, without hope. He'd believed that he and Starsky would triumph. He 'd believed that maybe, just maybe, he would even have a relationship with his twin. Once the man saw reason.

But he had been a fool.

Keith had let him know his plan from the start—he would stay on the force with Starsky as long as necessary, then the brunet would conveniently die in the line of duty. Or Keith would find a way to resign from the force and the brunet would be killed later. Starsky represented a threat to his plan. He was the one man who knew Hutch the best.

"You need to prepare yourself for the day Starsky dies, Brother. You know I can't let him live. He is the one man who could figure out I'm not you."

And Hutch had sat there only half believing, because, dear god, he'd felt a connection to his twin. He even felt sorry for him. He hadn't believed that Keith would actually do it.

It hadn't always been that way. He'd started out fighting for his freedom, even escaping one day. But the guards brought him back. A few days later, Keith appeared, and made it clear that he was only hastening Starsky's demise with his antics.

Unending months passed. Hutch started to look forward to his brother's infrequent visits. They would sit by the fire, drinking wine, discussing the philosophy of life. He was ashamed to feel tenderness toward a man who'd stolen his life and presented a threat to his partner.

Hutch was a traitor. His true brother was Starsky, yet he felt something for a man who was his antithesis.

Stockholm Syndrome. The surprising turn a victim takes when they come to like and depend on their captor.

It had happened to a newspaper heiress a few years back. She'd been kidnapped but ended up joining the kidnappers in their own personal crusade.

Now, Hutch knew he was experiencing it. It was like sliding down a slippery road; he couldn't seem to stop. He looked forward to the phone calls, the visits. Sometimes the guards would bring the phone, then take it away once the conversation ended. And his heart would drop.

Keith Abbot, his identical twin, the man with his face. His executioner.

They were identical, but fate had set them on different paths. One child became the son of a rich man while the other suffered in poverty.

Both twins had been affected by this twist of fate. For Keith, it meant struggling for food, watching his drug addicted parents fall apart until the drugs finally killed them. Then the boy lived with a series of relatives until they tired of him. A series of foster homes followed.

His brother spoke endlessly about his past, reliving every moment, crying freely. "No one ever took care of me. I had to do it myself."

Hutch walked away from money. He had been a disappointment to his father. Keith wanted to embrace it. He wanted money, power, position. He couldn't understand how Hutch couldn't see what he had.

"If you knew how it felt to go hungry or live on the streets without a single dime to your name, you wouldn't have done it," he'd said one evening as sunlight cascaded through the window.

Fate had given Hutch a better life. He attended the finest schools, traveled across the world, lived in fine homes. He never had to worry about where his next meal would come from. But he had rejected all of it and became a cop.

Both twins grew up lacking affection from their parents. Both sets of parents rejected them in their own way, and they both felt betrayed when they discovered the other.

For Keith, it had been a news report about the cop who'd survived the plague and the partner who literally dealt with the devil to save him. He wouldn't have been alive if Starsky hadn't convinced Callendar to save him and all the other victims.

But saving him had also brought Keith into their world. He found out he was adopted. He found his opportunity to be rich. All he had to do was replace Hutch.

Maybe it was pride that kept Hutch's parents silent. They didn't want people in their social circle to know they couldn't have children, so they went off one summer and adopted Hutch.

And Keith. Maybe his parents wanted him, but a fall from the middle class due to job loss, and a taste for drugs, had changed them. Then they had no son other than the heroin that eventually took their lives. Hutch understood the pull of drugs.

Hutch had a sister. There were ten years between them. Hutch remembered the pride in his parent's eyes when they announced the birth. He hadn't thought much of how they doted on his younger sister, figuring it was because she was a girl. Now, he understood. They'd finally had a biological child. He had been demoted in their eyes.

Hutch had spent his entire life living a lie.

It ended up costing Starsky his life.

Hutch had spent the year worrying about his partner. Starsky didn't have anyone watching his back. He was putting his life in the hands of a man who wanted him dead. Millions of dollars were at stake.

Hutch doubted his parents would know the difference. They'd never taken the time to know him, too busy going to social events, pursuing money. Keith figured that out right away. Hutch hadn't seen his parents in five years. His sister wouldn't notice because he hadn't seen her in two years. She was married with two children and wouldn't have time to see that her brother really wasn't her brother.

The family home was the perfect prison. Hutch's parents kept the home but had lost interest in it many years ago.

One day Keith would walk up to his dad and say, "Hey, Dad, I was wrong."

"Here, Son, here's a million or two," his dad would reply.

"How do you think Starsky would take it if I plunged a knife in his gut as he watched?" Keith had asked one day, early in their relationship, when Hutch had refused to answer questions. "I will be the last face he sees. And he'll think it's you."

And Hutch gave him the information he wanted because he had no choice. He needed to buy time. Then the nightmares started where the man with his face killed Starsky over and over, his partner asking 'why'. He would die thinking it was Hutch who took his life.

Keith had other questions. "What type of gift would our little sister like for her birthday?"

"What kind of food does Starsky like when he's sick?"

"How about this Huggy Bear? Is he a friend or just an informant?"

"You and Starsky are just friends, aren't you?"

And Hutch would answer truthfully. To a point.

He'd figured he could take advantage of these visits, where his brother sat in his room, listening to Hutch reminisce as they ate dinner. His brother observed his every move, mimicking him like a parrot, the guard standing discreetly nearby, gun at the ready.

Hutch had peppered the truth with half-truths that would make him seem out of character to Starsky. Hutch subtly changed his mannerisms even the way he spoke. He made his relationship with Starsky almost adversarial.

Hutch got up and pulled the lid off the food that sat on the nightstand. He looked at the food—salad, a bowl of melons, a meat stew, juice, and a slice of cake. Hutch ate a little of each then took a few sips of the juice. Within minutes he was tired. He lay back on his bed and closed his eyes, remembering the day he met his twin.

It was his father's habit to have servants call him whenever he wanted to relate a message. Richard Hutchinson was a busy man, too busy to take the time to call people.

On the day Hutch found himself a hostage, he'd received a call from the butler who told him to come quick, his father was sick. Hutch was told to come to the summer house in Illinois. The two-acre home, with its tennis courts, swimming pools, and at least 25 bedrooms, was seldom used by the Hutchinson clan.

He should have called his parents in Duluth, checked the validity of the report. But he didn't. He just jumped on a plane and flew there, expecting the worst. His first mistake.

Hutch had made another mistake—he hadn't called Starsky to tell him where he was going. He hadn't even told Dobey. It had been the weekend and he wasn't expected back for work until Monday.

Starsky was in New York, visiting family. Hutch reasoned that he would call both of them later, when he knew what was going on with his father.

It had been a shock to see Keith when he walked in the door. The shock was enough to slow his reflexes, give the two guards the upper hand.

And Keith had ended up with his life.

A thousand times Hutch had wanted to go back to that day, change how it ended, change how it started. A thousand times he contemplated escape. But the guards could have left the damn door open, and he wouldn't have left.

Hutch received rewards for good behavior, like the plants that lined his back window and the television and newspaper. Back then, he'd been bidding his time, waiting for his partner's arrival.

Hutch turned to lay on his back, his arms covering his eyes because he needed to leave the light on. Always. Starsky needed to know where to find him. His partner would look up, see the light, the plants and know he was there. Then he would be rescued. That had been the plan.

Hutch used to sit there figuring out how long it would take for Starsky to arrive. He timed it based on the stages of grief, reasoning that his partner would have to go through each of them to believe what he was seeing.

Stage one refusal to believe. This would have occurred the first day Starsky laid eyes on Keith. His partner would notice that the almost psychic connection they shared had been severed.

Stage two, anger. Keith showed up one day with a large bruise on his arm from falling down the stairs. Apparently Starsky had played a game of blind man's bluff with him.

The next stage was bargaining. Keith had said that Starsky wanted to go camping. Hutch knew his partner hated camping, so it had to be an attempt to get the old Hutch back.

After that would be depression. Keith had observed that Starsky had lost his zest until a blonde bombshell showed up. Apparently, she was a cop and they had just started dating, although they were not exclusive. Completely out of character for the brunet, who'd vowed to never date a cop again, after his relationship with a cop went sour years before. Starsky wasn't the sort of man who could bare knowing his woman was in harms way.

Hutch recalled the partial truth he'd shared with Keith.

"We often compete for the same woman. It's fun for us to one up each other."

So, there was the final stage: acceptance.

He'd pictured Starsky in his mind, reaching that final stage, finally believing his heart over his eyes.

He would know that Keith was an imposter, but he would need proof. He would need something that would take away any doubts that the man he'd been calling Hutch was, in fact, an imposter. The proof could be something like dating a cop. Then he would break every rule to come for Hutch.

Hutch had thought everything was going as planned, that Keith would never see it coming. He had been wrong. Now Starsky was dead because of it. Because of him. And he hated himself for caring for his twin.

TBC