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Heaven's Tears
By LovinFace
Ten-year-old Anna Doyle walked over to her dresser and retrieved a large blue T-shirt. She unfolded it and held it up to her nose. Squeezing her eyes tightly, she inhaled, willing herself to smell the scent of her father. She slipped off her bathrobe and pulled the shirt over her head, sticking her arms through the sleeves and letting the shirt edge fall to her knees. Grabbing her brush off the dresser, she plopped down on the edge of the bed and began brushing her long, blond hair. Fifty strokes on the right. Fifty strokes on the left. She returned her brush to the dresser, then knelt on the floor and retrieved an old cigar box from under the bed. She opened it slowly and retrieved the picture resting on top of her treasures…a little gold ring that Grandma Lee had given her, the essay for English class about her dad that had earned her an A, various trinkets she had collected over the years. But her most prized possession in the box was the picture of her dad holding her on his lap at her first birthday. She was looking up at him and he was looking down at her laughing. She had smeared frosting all over his face and a brand new teddy bear. Anna kissed the picture and returned it to the cigar box, then pushed it under the bed.
"Anna, are you ready for bed?"
Anna looked up to see her mother, Eleanor, standing in the doorway, jostling her two-year-old brother Colin on her hip.
"Yes ma'am." Anna replied.
"Okay. Time for prayers."
Anna knelt down beside her bed. She lowered her head and clasped her hands together. Eleanor stood behind her, one hand stroking Anna's hair, the other trying to keep Colin still.
Anna prayed, "Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. God bless Mama and Colin and Grandma and Grandpa and all my friends at school. And please say hi to Daddy for me. Amen."
Anna stood and pulled the covers down on her bed and climbed in. Eleanor retrieved a worn brown teddy bear from the night table and pressed it into Anna's arms. She sat down on the edge of the bed. Colin reached for the bear, but Anna held him fast.
"No you don't, Colin. Barry Bear is mine."
Eleanor stood, adjusting Colin on her hip once more. She bent over and kissed Anna on the forehead. "Good night, Baby. You go straight to sleep, now."
She turned out the light and walked to the door, closing it behind her.
XXXXXXXXX
John had learned his lesson. He had raped a girl. He hadn't killed her, though, and because of that he had been paroled after a year in prison. Well, it could never be said that John wasn't a quick learner. He had first spotted the little girl as she walked home from school. He had watched her for three days, making note that she always stopped at the pond in the park to feed the ducks before continuing to her house.
On the fourth day, John, carrying a leash, approached the girl as she pulled out a bag of breadcrumbs from the pocket of her raincoat. He was grateful for the rain as the park was practically deserted.
"Excuse me, Miss," John said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of a collie puppy. "Have you seen this puppy? I was walking him and somehow he managed to get free of the leash. He's afraid of the thunder and with this rain, I'm afraid he's probably hiding somewhere. I know he's got to be scared. Can you help me find him?"
The little girl threw the breadcrumbs in her hand out to the ducks. "Sure, Mister. I'll help you find him. What's his name?"
"His name is Bingo. I really appreciate you helping me find him." John reached out his hand to shake the little girl's hand. "What's your name?"
"Anna."
"Anna, I really appreciate your help. I thought I heard a dog barking in the woods over there, but I'm not sure. Will you see if you can hear him?" John walked toward a grove of trees.
"Sure."
XXXXXXXXX
"Hutch, you ever wonder what woulda happened if we had been born cowboys?"
Ken Hutchinson rolled his eyes and looked at his partner, David Starsky. This was turning into a long shift. It had been raining all day. The weather was so bad that it seemed even the "bad guys" were staying out of the rain, and out of trouble.
Starsky smiled. "I mean, do you think we'd really be like Butch and Sundance? Or maybe the Lone Ranger and Tonto? Or maybe a sheriff and a deputy?"
Hutch sighed. "I'd be Matt Dillon. You'd be Festus."
"Why do you get to be Matt Dillon?" Starsky asked.
"Because I'm the brains of this outfit, that's why. And besides, I look good in a cowboy hat." Hutch laughed.
"Says you." said Starsky with a half grin. "Hey, Hutch?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you ever wonder, what woulda happened if we'd been born girls?"
Hutch pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, Starsky, I can honestly say that I've never wondered what would have happened if we had been born girls." He smiled. "You'd be a bit to hairy for my taste."
"Zebra 3. Zebra 3."
Hutch grabbed the mic, saying a silent prayer of thanks for the interruption. "This is Zebra 3."
"Zebra 3, report of a 187 at Fairfield Park. Coroner and crime lab team have been dispatched."
"We're on our way."
XXXXXX
The coroner told them it takes four minutes to bleed to death from a cut to the jugular vein. The girl had been awake the whole time, lying in her blood, the rain falling, knowing she was dying.
Starsky looked down at the little girl. She looked about 10 years old. She'd been raped and beaten before her throat was cut.
The coroner handed him a Polaroid. "Thought you might need this. Oh, she had an ID bracelet. Her name's Anna."
Starsky pocketed the Polaroid and stepped away. He glanced at his watch and looked toward the horizon, the cold rain beating down on his slumped shoulders, water dripping off his curls.
Hutch approached him and put his hand on his shoulder. "You okay? Why don't we get out of this rain, huh?"
Starsky put his finger to his lips, and continued to stare ahead, glancing at his watch occasionally. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Four minutes later, Starsky spoke. "You ever realize how long four minutes is? She had to be so scared. God, I can't imagine what was going through her mind. We gotta find this guy, Hutch."
"We'll find him, Starsk. I promise," Hutch vowed. Hutch's hand was still on Starsky's shoulder. "C'mon, Partner. We've got work to do."
Hutch steered Starsky to the Torino. Once inside, Starsky stared out the windshield. The rain was coming down harder now, beating against the car, magnifying against the silence in the car.
"Heaven's tears," said Starsky, softly.
"What?" asked Hutch. He turned to face his partner.
"Heaven's tears. My grandmother told me once that the rain is Heaven's tears. I always thought Heaven was supposed to be a happy place. But seeing that little girl…" Starsky stopped.
Hutch reached out, clasping Starsky's arm. "We're going to find who did this Starsk. But first, we have to find Anna's family. Let's go to the station and check the missing persons reports, okay?"
Starsky leaned up and started the car. "Yeah, okay."
Seeing that the coroner's wagon had just pulled out onto the street, Starsky pulled up and followed behind. Starsky and Hutch rode in silence all the way to the station.
XXXXXXXX
John watched from the shadows as the detectives made their way out of The Pits. It had been a week since they'd found the girl. He knew they were nowhere near close to finding him. He'd left no sign, no clues. And while this made him happy, it also made him mad. How can you play a game if the players don't know they're playing?
He watched as the duo made their way to the Torino. Hutch was helping his partner into the passenger seat. Must have tied one on. Kids dying will do that to ya. John smiled at the thought. Well, if one kid had that effect on them, what effect would several have on them? Better yet, why not find a kid they love and do them? Boy or girl, didn't matter. No, no, no. Not a kid. One of them. He'd take one of the partners. The blond was taking care of the brunet right now. How would he feel if his partner turned up dead and he hadn't done a thing to stop it? Yeah, that's it. He'd take Starsky and kill him. Maybe he'd kill Hutch too.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Starsky snagged Barry Bear out of the backseat and Hutch helped him up the stairs to his apartment. Starsky immediately ran to the bathroom. After a few minutes, Hutch knocked on the door.
"Hey, Buddy, you all right in there?"
Starsky slowly opened the door and looked at Hutch with blood shot eyes. "Yeah. You stayin'?" He pushed past Hutch and sat on the bed.
Hutch walked over to him. "Yeah. We're in your car, remember?" Hutch reached out and pulled Starsky's jacket off, throwing it over a chair. "You need help getting ready for bed?"
Starsky sat unmoving. "Nah, I'm fine. I'll see you in the morning."
Hutch, knowing he had been dismissed, retrieved some blankets and a pillow and headed toward the couch. They had hoped the case would break quickly, that they would catch the psycho who had killed Anna. Starsky was taking this one personally. He never referred to her as "the victim" or "the girl" – it was always "Anna."
Hutch picked up the bear that had been tossed on the couch by Starsky on his run to the bathroom. He settled onto the couch as best he could. He recalled the day they had to tell Anna's mother that she had been found.
This was one of the aspects of the job that they hated. Telling someone that their loved one was dead. It was bad enough when it was an adult. But when it was a child…it was unbearable. Starsky had told Eleanor Doyle that her daughter was dead. She had fallen into his arms at the news. Starsky had told Hutch that he could feel the sobs before he heard them.
Now it was a week later and they were no closer to solving Anna's murder than they were when they started. Eleanor had come by the station that morning. Colin was with her, holding a brown bear with blue eyes. Eleanor had wrestled the bear out of Colin's chubby hands and handed him to Starsky.
"This is Barry Bear. Anna's dad gave it to her for her first birthday. She used to sleep with him, talk to him… Anyway, I want you to have him. He's a piece of Anna. I want you to keep him until you find the bastard who killed my baby." Eleanor began to cry, which in turn caused Colin to cry.
Starsky took the bear, saying nothing, turning away as he brushed a tear from his eye. Hutch put his hand on Eleanor's shoulder. "We're going to get this guy, I promise. We promise."
When their shift ended, they had ended up at Huggy's. Hutch sipped a beer, while Starsky guzzled a few. Afterwards, Hutch had driven Starsky home. Barry Bear had been placed in the backseat.
Hutch turned onto his side and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder. He could hear a light snore coming from Starsky's bedroom and was grateful that his partner had been able to finally get some sleep.
Now if only he could.
XXXXXXXXXXX
The next day, Starsky and Hutch canvassed the neighborhood by the park again, just in case someone had seen anything suspicious in the park. No one remembered anything but the rain, nothing out of the ordinary.
The week's worth of frustration was beginning to show on the detectives. They were both tired and on edge, neither one wanting to admit defeat, but both with a feeling of hopelessness in finding Anna's killer.
That night, all Starsky wanted to do was go home and go to bed. He pulled up to Hutch's apartment. Hutch had fallen asleep and was slumped down in the passenger seat. Starsky shook Hutch's arm. "Hey, wake up Blondie. You're home."
Hutch raised his head and looked around, yawning. "Oh, good." He looked at his partner. Starsky had a hollow look to him, and Hutch was worried. "Hey, Buddy, you wanna crash at my place? You're looking pretty ragged."
Starsky shook his head. "No thanks. I'm just gonna head home and go straight to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
Hutch got out of the car. He closed the door and stuck his head in through the window. "G'night Starsk. I'll pick you up in the morning." The blond stretched his arms and went up the stairs to his apartment. Starsky watched from his car to make sure Hutch made it in okay. After seeing the lights come on, he pulled away from the apartment and headed home.
XXXXXXXXX
Just after midnight, Starsky unlocked his front door and opened it. He walked into the living room, closed the door with a backwards kick, and headed toward his bedroom. He shed his brown leather jacket and threw it on the couch. He walked toward his room, taking off his gun and holster on the way. He flipped on the light in his room. Walking toward the bed he heard, "Well, Detective Starsky, it's been a long time. Now, turn around slowly and don't try anything."
The hair on Starsky's neck stood up. He slowly turned around and stood face to face with his assailant. Hatred pushed its way to the surface and he took a step toward the man.
John swung a baseball bat, hitting Starsky's right arm, breaking it instantly, and spinning him around so that his back was to him. Before Starsky could turn back around, he was hit on the back of his head and fell to the floor. John fished the cuffs out of Starsky's jeans and immediately cuffed his hands behind his back. He began to kick Starsky furiously. Satisfied that the detective was no longer a threat, John pulled a hunting knife out of his jacket pocket and released the blade. Smiling, he bent over Starsky.
"It's payback time, Pig."
Starsky could only watch in terror through half-open eyes as the blade came down. John thrust the knife into Starsky's neck. Blood began to pour onto the floor, a pool of red spreading on the floor like spilled paint. John laughed a maniacal laugh.
"You know, the kid just kept praying the whole time I was doing her." John knelt down, his face so close that Starsky could feel his hot breath. Then he spoke in a mocking sing-song voice, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, if I should die before I wake – you are going to die, Pig. See you in hell."
John stood and closed the bloodied knife, then returned it to his pocket. He picked up Starsky's gun and tucked it into the back of his pants. Then he turned without looking back and left the apartment.
Starsky managed to turn over on his side on the floor. He felt something soft under his head, and realized that he was lying on Barry Bear. Darkness was encircling his vision. He forced his eyes open one last time, and thought he saw Anna smiling at him.
Then everything went dark.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Hutch pulled up behind Starsky's Torino. He took the stairs two at a time and stopped at Starsky's door. "Come on Starsk, let's go."
No answer.
He fished his key to Starsky's apartment out of his pocket, then put the key in the lock and opened the door. He saw Starsky's jacket was on the couch.
"Starsky? You in the shower? C'mon Starsk, Dobey's gonna have our hides." Hutch continued to walk through the apartment, alarm growing with each step.
Hutch entered the bedroom. The bed was made, but Starsky's empty holster looked as though it had been tossed on the floor. Hutch pulled out his gun. "Starsky? Starsky!" He heard a moan from the other side of the bed. His gun still drawn, Hutch walked to the other side of the bed. There on the floor, lying in a pool of blood with his hands cuffed behind his back, his head resting on a bloody teddy bear, was his partner. Hutch bent down to Starsky. The brunet had been badly beaten. His eyes were swollen shut. He had blood coming from his mouth and ears. "Hold on Buddy, hold on." Hutch gently turned Starsky to his side and uncuffed him. Starsky began to shiver. Fighting the bile that was creeping up his throat, Hutch laid Starsky back on the floor and grabbed the bedspread off the bed and covered his partner. That's when he saw the gash on the side of Starsky's neck, under his right ear. Blood was flowing freely. Hutch grabbed a corner of the bedspread and pressed it against Starsky's neck.
With his other hand, Hutch pulled the phone off the nightstand and called the ambulance.
He sat on the floor, applying pressure to Starsky's neck. Waiting for the ambulance, he could think of only one thing.
Four minutes.
XXXXXXXXXX
Hutch had decided that hospital waiting rooms must be one way the devil had fun – who else could enjoy such a godforsaken room? He hated the chairs, the sorry excuse for a couch, the smell of antiseptic, four year old magazines, and the horrible coffee. Oh, and one mustn't forget the awful carpeting. Who had the bright idea that orange was a comforting color? Spend enough time in a waiting room and you become a patient yourself!
The surgeon, Dr. Payne, had told him that the surgery could take a while. Hutch had called Huggy Bear and Captain Dobey and then took his place in the waiting room.
Hutch continued to pace, hands in his pockets, and eyes ping-ponging from the clock to the door.
Clock.
Door.
Clock.
Door.
Dr. Payne finally entered, surgical mask hanging around his neck, sweat stains on his shirt. And blood. Starsky's blood.
"Doctor, how's he doing?"
The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. Weary eyes took in the face of the anxious man before him.
"He's out of surgery. We've set his right arm and sutured some lacerations of his scalp. He's got a couple of cracked ribs, but they're not as bad as they could be. The bruising and swelling should start to subside in a few days. The most worrisome injury was the cut to the jugular vein. He lost a lot of blood before getting here, so it was touch and go for a while. Now all we can do is wait. You know, it's a miracle he didn't bleed to death. It's a good thing you applied pressure to the wound right after it happened."
Hutch shivered at the statement. "But I didn't. I don't know how long he was lying there before I found him."
Dr. Payne hesitated a moment, then spoke. "Well something kept him from bleeding to death. We found some brown material in the wound. He must have positioned his neck on something that stemmed the bleeding."
The teddy bear, thought Hutch.
The doctor continued, "He must have an angel looking out for him because with a cut that severe, he should have been dead within minutes."
"Yeah, I know." Four minutes, thought Hutch. "Uh, Doc, when can I see him?"
Dr. Payne ran a hand over his balding head. "He's in recovery now. It's going to be about an hour or so before he's in a room. I'll send a nurse to get you when he's ready."
Dr. Payne shuffled out of the waiting room and down the hall, catching a glimpse of a thin black man in a red jumpsuit as he left.
Huggy Bear walked over to Hutch. "Hey, Hutch, how's Starsky? Was that his doctor?"
Hutch sat down in one of the plastic chairs and motioned for Huggy to sit beside him. "Yeah, Hug. Dr. Payne."
"You're kidding. A doctor named Dr. Payne? That just ain't right." Huggy smiled at the irony. "Sorry. Go on, what did the doctor say?"
Hutch sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes for a few seconds, then turned to face his friend. "Starsky has a broken right arm and some cracked ribs. He's bruised up pretty badly. He had to have stitches on some of the cuts on his head. And he nearly bled to death because some bastard nearly slit his throat!" Hutch slammed his hand on the armrest of the chair as his voice escalated.
Huggy reached over and patted Hutch's thigh. "But he's going to be okay, right?"
"Yeah, Hug. He has to be." Hutch looked up and saw Captain Dobey walking down the hallway.
Hutch filled Dobey in on Starsky's condition and the three men took their positions in the waiting room and began their vigil.
XXXXXXXXXX
Starsky had a headache. His first thought was that it must have been one hell of a party. He tried to open his eyes but found they had their own agenda and being open wasn't on it. Pain began to cascade over him and he remembered the assault. He began to moan and tried to move, but found that caused even more pain.
He felt a hand clasp his left hand. Hutch. He felt warm fingers stroking his face. Then he heard the voice. "Hey, Buddy. Wake up for me."
Hutch watched as the dark lashes fluttered, then Starsky's eyes opened revealing slits of blue. He smiled. "That's it, Buddy."
Starsky continued to stare at Hutch, trying to speak but finding that he couldn't. He slowly pulled his hand out of Hutch's grasp and tried to touch his throat. Hutch quickly clasped his hand. "Can't do that partner. You've had surgery on your neck. You're going to be okay. You've got a broken arm and some cracked ribs, not to mention bruises all over. But you're going to be fine." Hutch continued to stroke Starsky's face with one hand, holding onto Starsky's hand with the other. "Starsk, do you know who did this to you?"
Starsky squeezed his eyes shut, then slowly opened them. He whispered so softly that Hutch couldn't hear him. Hutch bent his head and turned his ear toward Starsky's mouth. "Say it again Starsky. Who did this to you?"
Starsky forced a whisper. "Manning."
Memories of Lisa Graham slammed into Hutch's brain. Sweet Lisa, raped and beaten on her way to the library on her birthday. He and Starsky had to go directly to the DA to get charges brought against the man and how he was out on the streets. Hutch tucked his anger away and stroked Starsky's hair.
"Shh, okay, Starsk. Take it easy. We'll get him. Just take it easy."
Starsky closed his eyes and fell into a drug-induced sleep.
XXXXXXXX
John Manning was mad as hell. The pig didn't die. He had stabbed him in the neck, just like the kid, and he didn't die. Manning had followed the blond detective to Starsky's apartment that morning. He thought it would be exciting to see all the cop cars and then the coroner's wagon after Hutch discovered his partner's body. Only it didn't happen that way. Oh sure, the cop cars came. But so did an ambulance. He watched as Starsky was loaded into the back of the ambulance, and a distraught Hutch climbed in after him. Manning clasped the butt of Starsky's gun. How did that saying go, "Dead mean tell no tales. Well, Detective Starsky, you are going to be a dead man." Manning smiled.
XXXXXXXX
Hutch's first instinct was to go and hunt John Manning down. He would make it impossible for the man to hide in Bay City. Huggy had already put the word out that Manning was now a marked man. Dobey had issued an APB. But the thought of leaving his partner vulnerable kept Hutch at the hospital.
Hutch sat in a chair watching his partner. Starsky was still sleeping. He would mumble every once in a while – mostly words that Hutch couldn't understand, though he thought at one time that Starsky had uttered Anna's name. He looked at the bandage around Starsky's neck. The thought of Starsky possibly bleeding to death made him shudder, and he picked up Starsky's hand to reassure himself that his partner was alive.
A nurse walked quietly into the room. "Detective Hutchinson, there is a phone call for you at the nurses' station. It's a Mr. Bear."
Hutch released Starsky's hand and stood. "Thanks, I'll be right there."
He followed the nurse out of the room, turning back to make sure that Starsky was indeed asleep. Satisfied, he headed toward the nurses' desk.
XXXXXXXXXX
Manning peeked out of the supply closet toward Starsky's room. He saw Hutch follow the nurse around the corner to the nurses' station to take a call – a call he had placed. He gripped the butt of Starsky's gun, tucked in his waistband, with his right hand. He knew he would only have one shot so to speak, and he had to make it good.
Carefully opening the door, Manning crept silently into Starsky's room. He pulled the gun from his waistband and placed the gun to Starsky's head. Then he pulled the trigger.
XXXXXXXXXX
Hutch picked up the phone. "Yeah, Hug, whatcha got?"
Instead of a reply, Hutch heard only a dial tone. He quickly dialed Huggy's number.
"You have reached The Pits. We ain't the Ritz. But you don't care 'cuz you're talking to the Bear."
"Huggy, it's me. You got some information for me?" Hutch picked up a pen and absently began doodling on a piece of paper.
"No, I haven't turned up anything yet. But I will. How's Starsky?"
"He's sleeping. Didn't you just call?" Hutch felt the hair on his neck raise.
"No, I—" Huggy heard the receiver hit the desk.
XXXXXXXXX
Hutch ran to Starsky's room. He watched as Manning pulled the trigger of Starsky's gun that was pressed against his partner's head.
Click.
The gun had jammed.
Hutch heard the click and a thought raced through his brain in a millisecond -- it had never jammed with Starsky, though Berettas were known for jamming – but it had jammed and saved his partner's life.
Hutch pulled Manning away from his partner and spun him around. Manning swung wildly at Hutch. Hutch was able to grab Manning's left arm and thrust it high on his back, causing Manning to drop the gun that was in his right hand. The gun landed with a thud and went off, sending a bullet into the wall behind Starsky's bed.
Hutch wrestled Manning to the floor. Two security officers entered the room and subdued Manning, cuffing his hands behind his back.
"This ain't over Hutchinson! I promise you that." Manning spat at Hutch, missing his face by only a few inches.
"You're right, Manning. This isn't over. It won't be over until you're rotting in prison. I promise you that." Hutch glared at Manning, then motioned for the security officers to take him away.
Hutch stood and rushed to his partner's side. Starsky was still sleeping, oblivious to the events that had just taken place. Hutch stroked the bruised cheek softly.
XXXXXXXX
Hutch had been sitting by his partner's bedside for nearly an hour. Starsky had been withdrawn after he had awakened and been told about Manning. Hutch merely waited, knowing that his partner would speak when he was ready.
"I saw Anna. That night Manning stabbed me, I saw her before I passed out." Starsky spoke quietly. He turned his head toward Hutch. "You probably think I'm crazy." He turned his head again and resumed staring at the ceiling.
"I know you're crazy, Starsk," Hutch said, smiling, "But not because you saw Anna. You know, the doctor said you should have bled to death. Do you realize you had been lying on the floor for nearly seven hours?"
The memory of finding Starsky lying in a pool of blood pushed its way through. Hutch inhaled sharply then slowly released his breath. He continued, "The doctor said that your neck landed on the teddy bear a certain way causing it to stem the bleeding. He said you had an angel looking out for you. I believe him."
Starsky turned his head toward his partner. "An angel and a partner. The perfect combination." Starsky grinning his patented lopsided smile. He yawned and his eyes fluttered closed.
Hutch watched as his partner drifted off to sleep. He walked to the window and looked outside. It was beginning to rain again. What had Starsky called the rain? Heaven's tears? Not tears of sadness. Not today anyway. Today they were tears of joy.
Hutch sat in the chair he had begun to consider his second home and watched as Starsky slept.
And somewhere up in Heaven, Anna smiled.
The End