Broken Doll-Chapter 12

Hutch took a swig of coffee without even tasting it. What had he learned so far? He knew the victims had all been in their early to mid 20's, tall and slender, brunette, Caucasian, and once worked in hospitals in various occupations…that he learned an hour earlier when Dobey called with the news. But, what else? Who was the tall woman seen at the Mallone murder site?

A low moan came from Starsky, signaling his return to consciousness. Hutch looked up from his seated position and suddenly realized that he'd been leaning stiffly forward in complete concentration for the past thirty minutes. He stood up stiffly and finished the last of his coffee, then moved over to the bedside.

"Hey. You waking up?" He saw his partner's lips curl into a smile. "It's about time you joined me. I'm tired of solving all our cases alone. It's time you pulled your own weight, buddy." Hutch chuckled, pleased to see Starsky looking more alert.

"The criminals are probably going wild on the street without me there to back you up," the scratchy voice joked.

Hutch helped him sit up and poured a glass of water. "In your dreams, Starsk. Here drink this." Starsky took a long sip and handed the glass back to the waiting hand.

"How long have I been here?" Starsky leaned back to rest his head on the foam pillow.

"Three days now. Doctor Ness said she could remove your lines once you have some, what did she call it…output."

"All I have to do is pee?" His eye brows rose as he thought about how uncomfortable the catheter was and how nice it would be to have it removed.

"Well, that's not exactly how she said it, but, yeah, that's all you have to do."

"Hand me the water, Hutch." Starsky sat and reached for the glass. "Where'd Anna go?"

Hutch felt his hand begin to shake and pulled it back before Starsky noticed. He didn't know why he reacted so strongly each time he thought about her death. After all, he'd seen death before, seen how it laid waste to the survivors. But not like this, he thought, not so violently…so goddamned savagely.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Starsky looked at his friend's hands and wan complexion. "Seriously, what's going on, Hutch?"

"Starsky," Hutch's voice became weak and he drew a shaky breath before continuing, "Anna was found dead this morning at 7:15."

Starsky didn't answer; he just sat in his bed and stared blankly at Hutch. Unsure of what the look meant and growing increasingly uncomfortable by the silence, Hutch pulled out his note book and flipped it open. "She, uh, she was found by a guy…a Mister Miles Mineas… while he was out walking his dog. And-"

"How did she die, Hutch?" The lack of emotion in the question took Hutch by surprise.

"Starsk, are you sure you want…"

"HOW DID SHE DIE?"

Hutch didn't know whether to be relieved at the anger pouring from his friend (after all, it was better than the blank stare), or frightened. "Just like the others," he replied, quietly.

"What did hedo?" The rage rolled off Starsky's tongue and his eyes flashed in a way Hutch rarely saw. There was a reason he rarely saw it, and he was thankful for that; it meant that his partner was about to go over the edge. He'd only seen it happen twice since they'd been partners and the last incident was over 2 years ago.

It had taken Hutch months to get the image of the beaten child out of his dreams; lying close to death on the floor of her step father's house. The case had been a heart breaker: the girl's mother had gone from bad relationship to worse relationship until she finally met Jack. She believed she had married the perfect man, but instead she got hooked on heroin and pimped out by her loving husband. The little girl, Julie was her name (Hutch would never forget that), was a casualty of her mother's bad choices. At the no longer so innocent age of 8, she was almost beaten to death by good 'ol Jack in order to punish her mother for being too high to service his clientele.

When Starsky saw the little girl unconscious and bleeding on the floor, and heard the mother's agonized cries, he got a look on his face similar to the rage Hutch saw displayed now. But, on that day, when his eyes became almost black and his mouth pursed so tight his lips were white, Starsky set out to hunt down the 'mother fucking bastard' who hurt the little girl. Hutch went along, not sure if it was to protect his partner or the step- father. Lucky for the father he did though, because when they did eventually find their suspect, in a smoky dive frequented by pushers and buyers, Starsky would have beat him to death if Hutch hadn't been there to pull them apart. Jack came away with 2 fewer teeth, and Starsky came away with bruised knuckles, and it was written up on the report as 'resisting arrest,' which wasn't exactly a lie. After all, the fat bastard did try to run, he just wasn't fast enough.

Starsky had the same hunting look now. "Starsk, I…"

"Damnit, Hutch." The anger built as Starsky pounded his fist on his leg. "Just tell me what he fucking did to her."

"He slashed her face, Starsky. He fucking cut her lips off. Is that what you want to hear?" Hutch moved closer to the bed and towered angrily over it. "He cut her in half, but not before sodomizing her. He carved her up, pal. I can show you pictures if you want. Is THAT what you want? Is it? You want to remember Anna like that? Huh? Because I don't, I want to forget I ever saw her like that. I want to forget I ever saw any of them like that. I want to forget this whole goddamned case! " Hutch turned his back and used his thumbs to massage his temples; a migraine was building.

When he again turned around to face his partner, he instantly regretted his vehement outburst; Starsky was lying against his pillow with the heels of his hands pushed firmly against his eyes.

"God, I'm sorry, Hutch." Starsky's hands fell to the bed and Hutch saw that his eyes were red and watery from attempting not to cry. "I didn't mean to…I just thought if maybe I was…"

Hutch placed an empathetic hand on Starsky's neck, slowly massaging the tense muscles. "We need to catch the maggot who's doing this. And, we will, Starsk, I promise."

"We need to stop him… before…" Starsky coughed, trying to clear the congestion still wheezing in his lungs. "…he finds another." He exhaled before hacking a few more times, leading Hutch to sit him forward.

"Thanks." he whispered, gasping for breath before another round of coughing deprived him of air.

"Starsky?" Hutch was becoming increasingly concerned by the loud gasping. He looked to the bed stand for a glass of water, but instead, pushed the call button when he noticed Starsky's lips turning blue and the panicked expression in his wide eyes. "Starsky!" Hutch shouted. God, not again, he thought as nurses rushed in, pushing him aside.

Instantly, Starsky was leaned forward, and as one nurse slapped his back, another strapped on an oxygen mask, and a third went to fetch the doctor. Starsky's whole face had a blue tinge to it as Doctor Ness arrived and calmly took his wrist in her smooth hand.

"David. Listen to me. You need to slow your breathing down so the oxygen will work. Relax, David." She put her hand on the back of his neck and leaned him into a reclined position. "Now, David, I need you to listen to me. Your lungs still need to rest, so I can't have you getting excited. I'm having the nurse give you something to help you relax and sleep." Ness nodded to the nurse who then inserted a clear solution into his IV.

Hutch could see Starsky's eye lids grow heavy as the drug took hold and he fell into a relaxed sleep.

"What happened here?" Hutch was startled out of his thoughts when he realized that the doctor was addressing him.

"What?"

"I said, Detective, what happened here. Your friend was hyperventilating. Something set it off."

Guiltily, Hutch looked down at his feet. "I blew it, Doc. I told him about Anna."

The displeasure momentarily disappeared from her voice as she pushed back a silver strand of hair that had fallen from her long braid. "Yes, that was, well…we are all still recovering from that shock. But nonetheless," her ire returned as quickly as it had vanished, "this was not the time to inform him of that. Honestly, what were you thinking, Ken?"

"Well, I thought I was-"

Doctor Ness put up a scolding hand. "You weren't thinking. His lungs are still weak and ANY excitement can set off a coughing fit, you saw that. He needs time to rest and heal; he doesn't need you coming in here bringing bad news. Go home, Ken."

"Now, wait a minute…" Taken off guard by the order, he stopped pointing his index finger in defense and instead stuttered a question. "W..What?"

"You need to leave, Ken. Go home and sleep, go to the station, go anywhere you want, but do not stay here."

"But..."

He felt the blood rushing to his face, just like when his mother was lecturing him. "No buts. Go home and don't come back for 8 hours. I'm going to inform the nurses on this floor that you are not to set foot in his room until tomorrow afternoon. Now, go."

Hutch didn't have the energy to argue with this tiny woman who rivaled Dobey in pugnaciousness, so he simply walked away. "I'll be calling to check on my partner," he admonished over his shoulder.

O0O

Half an hour later, Hutch sat in The Pits, staring at the hamburger and fries Huggy had set before him. He took a swig of his beer and went back to poking at the cold fries on his plate as Huggy showed the last of his patrons out and locked the door. The lean business man then tossed a white dish towel over his shoulder and relaxed in a chair next to Hutch with a tired sigh.

"Long day, Hug?" Hutch asked, still contemplating his fries.

Huggy stood up and retrieved his own beer before returning to the table. "Marla up and quit on me today. Seems the girl found the man'o her dreams and ran off to get married. All I got was a phone call, not even an invite. Now, that's gratitude for you."

"Yeah…too bad."

"What's with you tonight, Blondie?" Huggy pried. "You look like somebody stole your best friend…Starsky's alright, right?" Panic momentarily coursed through his body.

Hutch took another swallow then answered, "He's fine."

"They kicked you outta there, didn't they?"

That comment got a small chuckle from the blond. "You know me too well."

"Yeah, I do." Huggy stood to refill their mugs. "You were asking awhile ago if I knew anything about Billy Grippo."

Hutch stopped torturing his food and sat up straight, listening. "Yeah. What did you find out?"

"Well, it seems our friend likes to travel. After he sold his club for a large profit, he got into selling antique furniture and collectables. Now, he travels around the country buying and selling them. He started about twenty years ago and he's done well for himself. Very well." Huggy sat their drinks down, but continued to stand.

"He's rumored to have mob connections. Do you know anything about that?"

"That's just it, it's rumors. Nobody's been able to get anything on the dude. The guy is very private and the people closest to him say he's an honest business man. However, his enemies disappear rather quickly, never to reappear."

"What do you know about his private life, Hug?" The black man settled into his chair and leaned closer to Hutch.

"He likes his women: tall, well-built movie star types. Has a party almost every weekend where he and all his business associates luxuriate, medicate, and modulate. Seems some pretty off-color things go on in his love pad, too."

Hutch was beginning to get a picture of the man whose address book ended up in a dead woman's possession. "Off- colored how?"

"Wild sex orgies, my man. He can have any woman he wants and he likes to share. A few have ended up in the hospital after one of his shindigs. Seems he likes it rough, and the rougher, the better."

Hutch abruptly stood, tossing some money on the table to pay for his drinks and food. "Thanks, Huggy. I need to find those medical records, and then I'm going to pay a visit to our little deviant friend."

"You ain't talking about Starsky, are you?" Huggy shouted after him.

"Billy Grippo, Hug, Billy Grippo." He heard as Hutch let himself out the back door.

Huggy shook his head. "I was afraid a dat."

To Be Continued