Thank you all for being so patient while I was ill. As promised, two chapters are being added! And now back to our regularly scheduled program!
Broken Doll-Chapter 11
The room felt cool when Starsky woke, and he shivered under the thin blanket covering his body. Pushing the nurse call button, he waited in the gray light that marked another stormy day. Minutes later, he pushed the button again as another shiver quaked through his body. Outside, the wind was picking up, blowing branches across the windowpane with a shrill racket.
Starsky pushed the button again, lightly cursing under his breath, and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He spotted a thin blue robe hanging in the open closet. Fighting vertigo, he stepped to the closet and shrugged into the robe, not really feeling the warmth he needed. Urging his wobbly legs forward, he opened the door to his room and looked out, hoping to spot a passing nurse. Nothing.
Curious, Starsky moved down the hall toward the nurse's station. But when he arrived, it was dark and empty.
He looked up and down the hall, pulling his robe tighter against the chill that was seeping into his flesh. Now, desperate to find a nurse, he headed toward the elevator and the admittance desk on the first floor.
The elevator opened and he stepped inside and pushed the button to the first floor. The elevator sprung to life with a lurch, and that's when Starsky heard raspy breathing behind him. Turning his head, he saw an old man standing hunched in the back corner, facing the wall. He couldn't see a face but thinning silver hair stood out starkly against the dark blue sweater the old man wore.
"Uh, are you all right, sir?" The man remained silent and still. Starsky felt the hair on his arms prickle as he pivoted back towards the doors.
The next floor came and went and Starsky thought he heard the old man shift. He looked over his shoulder, but the man in blue stood motionless in the corner.
Another floor and Starsky was sure the old man was standing behind him, for he felt the heavy, warm breath caressing his bare neck. He turned, expecting to be nose to nose with the man, but the old figure was still slouched in the corner, looking down.
The elevator seemed to be moving at an extremely slow pace, and the wait to exit was agonizing. Starsky pushed the first floor button again, with more pressure. The shifting of feet scraped against the floor and Starsky felt a tremor go down his back. He pushed the button several times more.
Normally, not afraid of even the worst criminal, Starsky was ready to claw his way out of the elevator to escape the old man. Claustrophobia was overtaking him as he felt the man move toward him.
The next floor came and went and Starsky had to turn around. Breathing deeply, he spun toward the back of the elevator. The old man was still in the corner, head down. But as Starsky watched, the aged body turned, ever so slowly. Starsky looked toward the feet and saw that they were not moving; the man's feet were skimming the brown carpet as he turned. Startled, Starsky backed against the smooth elevator doors and mentally urged them to open. The old man finished his rotation and now was fully faced forward.
"Christ," Starsky said in a low moan and felt his stomach drop; he knew that after one look, he wouldn't be eating for a long while.
The old man in the corner (except he was no longer neatly tucked back there) was the size of a young adult female, like those who never eat and are proud of how their bones show through too tight clothing. The wasted arms weren't reaching out, but instead hung limply at the old man's side. Not that he won't try to reach out later, Starsky thought morosely. Where the eyes should have been were two huge, cavernous, black holes; and what appeared to be a nose was sunken into the eyeless face allowing Starsky to view a boneless piece of cheese colored flesh dripping in the old man's sinuses. The toothless mouth was drawn back in an expression of agony, while the vile reek of decay drained from it. Starsky pushed himself as tightly against the doors as he could, but the old man hovered closer and closer, until he was so close Starsky could see the multitude of death loving bugs feasting inside the empty sockets.
With a Ding the doors opened and Starsky slowly backed up, not wanting to lose sight of the old man. Waiting for the doors to shut seemed to take forever, but they did, locking the abhorrence inside. Starsky held his chest with quaking fingers and took several calming breaths before looking down the corridor.
O0O
Hutch pulled his LTD next to the other patrol cars parked haphazardly in the slick street, and sat a moment getting his bearings before joining his captain. The rusty door squealed in protest as he pushed it open and climbed out into an ankle deep puddle. He looked up to the sky cursing the rain and squinted against the heavy drops of water as he pulled his collar around his neck, hoping to keep the damp from collecting there. Although it was early morning, the sky was gloomy with storm clouds and each officer on the scene held a MagLight while searching the ground for evidence. Hutch, in kind, pulled his heavy, metallic light from inside his coat and flicked it on. Nothing happened. Slapping it against his palm in irritation, the light flickered and stayed illuminated.
He picked his way through the thick, suctioning mud and tall wet grass as he made his way over to the captain.
"Hutchinson." Captain Dobey acknowledged his detective's arrival.
"What've you got, Cap?" the already soaked sergeant asked, shining his light towards the assistant medical examiner.
Dobey shifted his umbrella to his left hand and blew warming air onto his right clenched fist. "Dark haired female, approximately 26 years of age. A man walking his dog found her in this field about forty minutes ago."
To Hutch's questioning look, Dobey responded, "Seems this is where the dog does his business." Hutch looked down at his feet and then back at his captain, a look of disgust coloring his face.
"How was she killed, Cap?"
"Not sure yet, the ME just got here, but it looks just like the others, Hutch. It's bad. Come on, I'll take you over so you can have a look."
Hutch didn't want to have a look. He wanted to be asleep in his warm bed, not standing in the cold rain looking at the mangled corpse of another unlucky woman. But he knew he had no choice in the matter; this was his job after all.
Carefully avoiding the evidence markers, Hutch and his captain made their way to the examiner. Silent lightning prickled through the sky with a flash, lighting the area in an artificial glow.
"Hey, Gail, I thought you stayed in the lab these days." Hutch spoke, surprised but pleased to see the attractive woman.
The brown haired assistant looked up at Hutch with large golden brown eyes and smiled. "Mike's wife went into labor about three hours ago. I told him I'd pick up his slack." She winked and then knelt down to squat by the lower half of the nude body partially sunken in the mud.
"Lucky you." Hutch frowned. "Do you have anything?" Hutch moved his light over the legs of the corpse. They were spread eagle as the other bodies had been, and as he moved his light up, he saw that the body ended at the waist. He looked around with his eyes and spotted the upper body a few short feet away, covered by a plastic tarp.
"The rain has washed away a lot of the evidence, but I found this next to the lower extremities." Gail held up a red fingernail with her tweezers and placed it in a plastic baggie.
Hutch took the bag and held it up to his light. "Did she lose it in the struggle?"
The attractive brunette shook her head, sending droplets of water over her smooth cheeks. "No, from my initial exam of her hands, all the victim's nails are in tact. And, if she struggled, it wasn't much of one. I have to get her to the morgue to be sure, but if I were to make an educated guess, I'd say she was dead before she was strangled."
"Can I see the rest of her?"
"Sure, but we don't have an ID yet," she said with a soft shrug of her shoulders.
Hutch splashed through the standing water as he approached the upper half of the body. Dobey followed several paces behind, already having seen the sickening sight. Gail bent over and carefully pulled the tarp up so the detective could view the remains.
What he saw was so sickening, he had to fight to keep his last cup of coffee down. The upper body was mangled almost beyond recognition, and her color was a peculiar shade of pale blue that was ghostly in the dim morning light. Shockingly, her lips had been carved away revealing several broken and chipped teeth, and the edges of her mouth were slashed ear to ear in a mock smile. Hutch's stomach lurched, but he couldn't pull his eyes away. Slowly, his stare made its way up to her eyes.
"No." Hutch stepped back almost knocking his captain over.
O0O
Rounding the corner of the hall, Starsky was relieved to finally see a uniformed nurse standing in the corroder before him.
"Hey!" he called, reaching his arm out as if to touch her. But before he made contact, she turned and Starsky froze in his steps.
Long, graying bones reached out to him as plump strands of parchment colored flesh dripped from the gesticulating fingers. Raven colored hair slipped from the skull in clumps and fell to the floor in corpulent piles. It took a step toward him and he saw that a runny liquid was dripping from beneath its skirt, pooling on the white tile.
Help me, it hissed, and moved closer.
Starsky was calm. Startled, but calm. He thought: This is it. I'm dead. It's ending here and now and I'm alone. He never thought of turning and running away or calling for help. The thought never even entered his mind.
In fact, what he wanted was to move closer to the miscreation, to touch it. It called him, as if in a dream, and he felt the curious tug.
Help me.
Stepping forward, Starsky felt something gelid beneath his bare feet. Looking down, he was taken aback by the glutinous black fluid now pouring from the cadaver and inching up his leg. He tried lifting his feet, but the substance clung to him in long strings, sealing him to the floor.
He pivoted, his fascination turning into terror, and fell to his hands with a painful slap. It moved with a bizarre gurgling sound emanating from its throat.
"What the fuck do you want?" he spat out while grappling at the floor with his fingers.
Help me
He attempted to claw away from the apparition, using the cracks in the floor as leverage, but blood from his broken nails made the linoleum too slick to grab as the tar like mass inched up his legs to his torso. The specter approached close enough for Starsky to see its pallid, waxy complexion and hear the hiss of its breath as it whispered into his ear, "Help me."
The grey hand that closed around his neck was no surprise, but he gagged at the feel of the dangling tissue as it slipped against his skin leaving behind an oozing trail of liquid adipose. The grip tightened and he closed his eyes.
David?
David? Can you hear me?
Open your eyes, David.
A familiar voice called him, and he struggled to open his eyes.
You're having a dream, David. You need to wake up now.
Was it really just a dream? It had felt so real, but was it? Would he open his eyes to the voice he heard now, or would he open them to…his whole body shivered. A warm hand tenderly caressed his cheek and he felt the warmth flow through his body.
Blinking several times in an attempt to peel his lids open, Starsky finally managed to keep them partially aloft. What, or rather who, he saw stroking his face brought a pleased smile to his mouth.
"Anna?" his voice sounded raw to his ears. She held a straw up to his lips and he took a cool sip, feeling the water trickle down his parched throat. He closed his eyes and soaked in the pleasant sensation.
Anna then reached over to his bed side table and wrung out a wet cloth, lightly running it over his face. "You were having a bad dream, David, so I thought I should wake you. Are you alright?"
"Thanks. It was… pretty bad." Although he only just met this young woman, Starsky was gratified that she was here with him. He couldn't put his finger on the emotion, exactly, but she seemed to bring him a small amount of peacefulness he hadn't felt in a very long time.
She smiled, her intense sapphire eyes blazing. "Go to sleep, Dave. I'll stay here with you. Promise."
The last thing he wanted to do now was go back to sleep, the nightmare still fresh in his memory, but fatigue tugged at him and he felt his lids growing heavy. Sleep claimed him, but this time he was tranquil.
O0O
"Hutch, are you alright?" Dobey asked. It was a necessary question. All the color had drained out of the young detective's face and he bent over clutching his shins and breathing hard.
"I just…we just…oh, God, Cap." Hutch spat the sour taste from his mouth.
"Hutchinson, talk to me." Dobey placed a concerned hand on the blond's back.
Hutch spat again and took a needed deep breath. The rain had let up to a drizzle, but he still felt a chill griping his body. After another breath, he stood and faced his boss.
"Christ, Captain, it's…fuck…it's Anna Lewis. I just saw…we just interviewed her. I should have known she wouldn't be safe. I should have-"
"That's enough! There was no way you could have known that maniac was going to do this any more than you can read his mind. Jesus, Hutch. You can't blame yourself for every victim we have to identify."
Running a hand through his lanky, wet hair, Hutch nodded. "I need to tell Starsky."
"After you finish here." The large black man turned back to the ME. "Any idea on the time of death?"
Hutch had forgotten Gail was standing there, and realized that he really wanted an answer to that question, too.
Gail pulled the tarp back over the upper body to preserve any remaining evidence and moved to do the same with the lower half. "Well, from the bug activity, I'd estimate about 8 hours." She glanced at her watch. "That would make it-"
"Midnight. Cap, that was just a few hours after we left her place." Hutch couldn't hide the guilt he was feeling.
A morgue attendant sidled up next to the trio. "You want me to remove the body now?"
"No," Hutch said. "You should just leave her there in the rain until all the fucking evidence gets washed away."
"Hutchinson!" Dobey gave Hutch a warning glare, causing the detective to look away in frustration.
"Go ahead and move her, Jeff. I can't do anything for her here." Gail became quiet a moment before she looked at Hutch. "Want me to call you when I know more?"
"Yeah," he said, resigned. "Call me at Memorial; I'll be there with Starsky."
Gail's eyes grew soft at the mention of his partner. "How is he doing, Hutch? I heard he's pretty sick."
"Yeah, he is, but the doctor says he's going to be fine. He just needs to rest and let the medicine do its job." At least, Hutch hoped he would be fine. He only left the hospital because Anna said she would watch him, and, now…well, now Starsky was alone and Hutch was feeling responsible.
He thought back to his meeting with Anna outside his partner's room: I was tired. No, I was…am exhausted. Did I really see her or did I just see what I needed to see at the moment, Hutch thought. I should have at least told cap. Shit, no one would believe it, except Starsky. But share it with someone other than him? Someone who doesn't know what it's like working all hours of the day and night and dealing with low- life's, 24/7. No. It's best that only the two of us know that I…we…I was seeing things. I was seeing things. I was exhausted and I was seeing things.
"Hutchinson!" The burly captain of detectives startled Hutch from his thoughts. "Don't you have work to do?"
Taking his note book from his back pocket, Hutch flipped it open and moved off to interview the dog walkerI was seeing things, he told himself one final time before addressing the man with the poodle.
To be Continued