Chapter Six

By the end of Starsky's first week back doing full sessions of everything, excluding PT, he was sure he was back at one hundred percent fitness and told Hutch, in no uncertain terms, to stop being a mother-hen or to be prepared to face the consequences. They decided to forgo studies that Thursday evening so they could have a belated celebration of all of their exam results. Hutch, to his surprise but no one else's, had come first place in Introduction to Law Enforcement and like Starsky had placed in the top ten for Traffic Control and in the top twenty for AOJ. He'd got a merit in Defence Tactics, which he was more than happy with. Only Starsky knew that Hutch harboured a twinge of regret that nobody in his family cared how well he'd done. He hid his disappointment well and Starsky made all the more fuss of him to try to make up for his family's shortcomings.

Hank and Bee had placed in the top fifteen in all three core subjects and Erica had come second in AOJ much to her surprised delight. Erica, Myerson and Evans had mixed results but they had passed everything so they were all able to continue with their studies. Evans had done the least well of all of them and Starsky wondered why he was struggling so much, given all the extra coaching he had been given by Hutch and Hank. He worked so hard – it seemed a shame his scores didn't reflect his determination and perseverance.

Once he was back to normal, Starsky started noticing more of what was going on with everyone else around him. What Hutch called his 'radar' was now tuned in to their whole group of friends as well as Hutch. For instance, he could tell when Myerson had had a bad phone call from home, before he said anything about his brother being in a traffic accident; he noticed when Erica started to develop feelings for Hank and when Hank finally cottoned onto her overtures; and, of course, his sixth sense was particularly strong around Bee – he knew when she was having a good or bad day, when she was worried, feeling happy, sad, excited, frustrated or determined.

So he was the first to really notice how subdued Evans seemed to have gotten since the start of the second block of training. The young man seemed to be struggling even more with his course work and had trouble concentrating at their study sessions. Starsky tried to talk to him about it a few times but Evans assured him he was okay. He discussed his concerns with Hutch and they both decided to try to keep a better eye on him.

One night in the fourth week of term, Starsky was already eating his dinner and chatting to Hutch and the others in their group when Evans came in looking harassed. He went and got his dinner choice and then came and sat down next to Hank. Surreptitiously, Starsky watched him as he ate slowly and shifted uncomfortably on his chair. Every so often, he drew in a pained breath.

"Ricky? You all right?"

"I-I slipped over in the showers, banged my back. It's a bit bruised but otherwise I'm okay."

"D'ya want Hutch to have a look at it for ya. He did medical training for two years. I know he could check you haven't cracked a rib."

Hutch nodded. "Sure, happy to."

Evans shook his head. "Thanks but I'm fine, really…Can I study in your room tonight, guys? I've got a test tomorrow and I'm worried about it."

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Hutch said.

Starsky caught Evans breathing a sigh of relief and wondered about it but didn't know how to get him to open up about what was bothering him.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

At the beginning of December, Hutch was called into Chief Stewart's office, just after his last session of the day. He was shown in by the secretary and found Bennet and Moores sat inside. The detectives stood up when Hutch entered and shook hands with him.

"We're really sorry but we seem to have hit a brick wall with the investigation," Moores informed him. "There are no witnesses to your ex-wife being anywhere near the scene. A strange car was spotted on the morning in question but it was beige, not the colour of Mrs Hutchinson's car, and we still haven't any leads as to who it belonged to."

"Mrs Hutchinson did take a large sum of cash out a few days before the fire but taking out large sums of cash seems to be something she does regularly even though she doesn't seem to have employment," Bennet said.

"She's got a small trust fund from her grandmother, which she used to use as her 'mad money'. I guess she's nearly through the lot if she's still spending like she used to." Hutch sighed. "In one sense, I'm relieved there's no absolute proof it was Vanessa. I mean, it's horrible to think that she would do something so awful. Maybe I'm completely wrong…but…"

"You've got this instinct says it was her," Chief Stewart suggested.

"Yeah." Hutch shrugged.

"Well, we won't give up but obviously as time goes on it gets more difficult," Bennet said.

"I understand," Hutch said.

"We just wanted to give you an update and ask how Cadet Starsky's doing," Moores said.

"He's absolutely fine now, thanks," Hutch answered. "And thanks for taking me seriously about Vanessa."

"No problem. We'll let you know if anything else turns up," Moores said, before shaking Hutch's hand and saying goodbye to Chief Stewart.

Hutch went to follow the detectives out but Chief Stewart asked him to stay behind.

"Sit down, Cadet," Stewart said. Once Hutch was seated he continued: "I haven't had chance to congratulate you on your results. Well done. You should be very proud of yourself."

"Thank you, sir," Hutch said. A hint of colour rose in his cheeks.

"Have you thought much about what division you want to apply for in January?"

"I'm not sure, sir. Starsky and I both want to be detectives, maybe in homicide or robbery. We'd be happy anywhere we can get good rookie training and a chance to take the detectives' exam."

"You're hoping to be partners, is that it?"

"Yes, sir. That's what we're hoping for."

Stewart nodded. "If your hearts aren't set on a particular department, I may know a captain who would be glad to have rookies with more general skills. You two seem to be doing well across the board and I'm told you have a mixed study group – male, female, different ethnicities. I think you would both be an asset to my friend. If I can get him to come in on match day, would you be happy to meet him."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"May I ask you a question about one cadet in your study group? Cadet Evans? He doesn't seem to be doing as well this block as in the last one. I notice he's had three demerits this term already."

Hutch frowned. "Yes, Cadet Starsky and I are concerned about him. He seems to be very pre-occupied but we can't seem to discover what's bothering him. We are keeping an eye on him, sir."

"Should it be a matter that requires my attention, you will bring it to me, won't you?" It was phrased as a question but Hutch was certain it was more of an order.

"Straight away, sir. You have my word."

Stewart looked down, pulled his desk drawer open and lifted a letter from inside. "This came for you, today, Cadet Hutchinson. It looks official." He handed it over.

Hutch took it and noted the court stamp and realised it must be his divorce decree. He was flooded with a mix of emotions that he couldn't begin to put into words.

"Thank you, sir. Is that everything?"

Chief Stewart looked kindly at the obviously perturbed young man sitting in front of him. "Yes, that's everything, Cadet. You may go. Keep up the good work."

"Thank you, sir. I will."

Hutch hurried out and went to find Starsky, hoping that he would still be in their room and not have left for dinner yet. He almost bumped into Starsky coming out of their door as he returned.

"Starsk, can you hold on a minute?"

"Sure, buddy, where ya been?"

They both sat down and Hutch filled Starsky in on what the detectives had reported, what Stewart had said about their rookie training, and his concerns over Evans. Starsky was pleased with Stewart's offer and grinned at Hutch.

"We're making it, buddy. We'll be partners before you know it!"

Hutch smiled back but then his face darkened as he looked down at the envelope still in his hands.

"What's that?"

Hutch took a breath. "I think it's my divorce papers." He ripped the envelope open and carefully drew out the paper from within. He stared at it, a mixture of emotions racing across his face.

Starsky stood up. He knew Hutch would be feeling; relieved; sad; probably judging himself as a failure seen through his parents' eyes; excited by the prospect of freedom; and a whole host of different emotions. "I think we need a night off and lots of beer," he said. "Not to celebrate, just to mark the moment and then move on. What d'ya think?"

Hutch stood up, placing the paper back in the envelope and then shoving it under a pile of books on his table.

"Thanks, buddy. I think that sounds like a great idea. Let's eat and then go to the bar."

Starsky clapped him on the shoulder and followed him out of the room. As they walked over to the cafeteria, Starsky simply said, "Fresh start, babe. It's all there waiting for you and it's going to be t'riffic."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It was the second week of December and they were supposed to be studying for their exams, which were coming up soon. Hutch was still diligently making notes but Starsky had already given up and was reading the sports section in the paper he'd managed to prise away from one of the evening security staff. Somehow, he seemed to have gotten on first name terms with most of them and regularly traded chocolate or other snacks for a look at the most recent newspaper.

"Hey, Hutch? What are your plans the Christmas weekend?"

The cadets were allowed almost a week off over the Christmas period and Starsky was really looking forward to it. Hutch could hear the excitement in his friend's voice. He shrugged and didn't look up from his text book.

"I haven't planned anything. I'll just catch up on some studying, I guess."

Starsky frowned. "You're not visiting your family then?"

"No, it's not worth it for a long weekend. It's too far."

"New York's further," Starsky countered, "And we've got almost a week off."

After knowing Hutch for almost eight months, Starsky had realised that Hutch was more than reticent when it came to his family. While Starsky had problems with his own family - he and his brother, Nicky, didn't get on that well - he couldn't imagine not going to see his Mom at Christmas. As far as he'd been able to glean from telephone conversations he had overheard, both of Hutch's parents were alive and well, and he had recently let slip that he had a sister to boot. Even though, he knew Hutch wasn't on the best of terms with them, he had just assumed that he would spend time with them at Christmas. Why wouldn't he want to see them? Why wouldn't they want to see him? It all seemed very odd to Starsky.

"Don't you want to see them and spend time with them at Christmas?"

"My folks don't do Christmas like normal people…and I-I don't really do Christmas. I'll be quite happy here on my own."

Starsky shook his head. Sometimes he wondered how he and Hutch had become friends. He didn't think he'd ever met someone who openly admitted they didn't do Christmas before. It was just weird.

Hutch lifted his head and looked enquiringly at him. "I'm surprised you're into Christmas, Starsk. I mean…You're Jewish. You have a menorah in your bedroom."

"Yeah, well, I ain't strict or nothing and I happen to like Christmas. Food, gifts, time with family. It's great."

Hutch sighed.

Starsky thought back to something Hutch had said. "What do ya mean they don't do Christmas like 'normal' people? What's that mean exactly?"

Hutch squirmed. "Well…they are…involved in lots of charities and the country club and stuff like that so they tend to throw parties for other people, so-called important people. It was never just family growing up."

Starsky put his head on one side and said, "I can't see that suiting you. No wonder, you don't want to visit."

Hutch breathed a sigh of relief. As usual, Starsky seemed to understand him better than his own family.

"So you've never had a fun Christmas, stringing popcorn, making cookies, that sort of thing?"

Hutch thought back. "Well, it used to be like that when I went to stay with my grandparents. They would just cosy up in front of the fire and keep everything simple...but they've both passed away now." He sounded wistful.

"I'm sorry."

Suddenly, Starsky jumped up from the sofa, scattering text books and paper everywhere. He made a half-hearted grab at some papers and threw them back on the sofa. "Well, it's Friday night. I'd better go ring Ma and then we can go for a beer. See you at the bar in half an hour?"

"Yeah, all right. See you there."

Starsky headed out to use one of phones available in the campus reception. He waited for his turn then slid the money in the slot and asked the operator for the New York number.

"Hello?"

"Hi Ma, it's me."

"Ah Davey, thought it would be you. How's that youngster doing? Ricky, isn't it? The one you told me broke a rib falling."

"Yeah, he's doing better. Less sore now. I'm still worried about him though. Me and Hutch are keeping an eye on him. I'm sure something's not right."

"Well, I hope you can help him…and how's your week been, darling?"

"It's been good. I've got an exam tomorrow but it's one of the subjects I'm pretty good at so I'm not worried."

"That's great, darling. I'm very proud of you and all you've achieved so far. Your Pop would be proud, too."

"Thanks, Ma, 'Course I wouldn't have passed if Hutch hadn't helped me study."

"I'm glad you've got Hutch there with you. He's a very special person."

"Yeah, he is."

"I spoke to Al and Rosie today. They're missing you."

"I'll try and visit them before Christmas."

"Good. I miss you, too, Davey. I can't wait to see you at Christmas."

"Me too. Listen, Ma, I've got a free day on Saturday so Hutch and I are gonna get my ticket sorted to come see ya."

"Lovely. And Hutch too, of course?"

"Well, he said he's going to stay here and study. I don't get it. He says he doesn't do Christmas and he's not visiting his family."

"Well, Davey, some people do find Christmas difficult."

"Yeah, it sounds like it wasn't much fun at his house when he was growing up. I think it's put him off."

"Well, I did ask him to come here for Christmas. It was when you were in the hospital - we chatted a few times and I told him I'd love to meet him. I asked him to come with you at Christmas and I told him 'no excuses'."

"You did?"

"Yes, I did. You remind him."

Starsky thought for a minute. "Thanks, Ma. I will. I don't like to think of him being on his own at Christmas."

"Well, you remind him he's invited and I'm expecting him. Hopefully he'll say he'll come."

"I'd better go, Ma. I'll call you same time next week. Love ya."

"Love you too, my darling boy. Take care of yourself."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

They were walking up the street to the Travel Agents when Starsky said, "Hutch? Ma said she'd asked you to visit at Christmas. Why didn't you tell me?"

Hutch stopped walking and looked surprised. He didn't know what to say. "Oh…Well, I thought she'd probably forgotten – that it was just a suggestion because she was worried about you when you were in the hospital."

"So what do ya think about spending the Christmas weekend at my Mom's house?"

"Does she still want me to come?" Hutch asked, "I mean I don't want to intrude on a family time."

"Hey, ya wouldn't be. Ma always says there's a place for friends at our table and she wants to meet ya. She said so again last night."

"She did?"

"'Course. You've got to meet her. You'll love her. Come on, say you'll come."

Hutch chewed on his lip for a minute then said hesitantly, "Well, I guess I could come."

Starsky beamed at him and slapped him on the back. "That's great, pal. Come on! Let's go get the tickets arranged."

Hutch allowed himself to be dragged into the shop and was soon writing out a check for his ticket. As they went back outside and headed in the direction of the park, Hutch began to wonder if he was making a mistake – spending Christmas with someone who seemed to embrace every aspect of it might be a bit much to handle - but it was too late to change his mind now.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Erica was running late for this week's Thursday night study session. She'd been to phone her sister to wish her a "Happy Birthday," and ended up chatting for forty minutes; catching up on all the family news. She hurried along and quickly reached Accommodation Block B. Rushing, she pushed through the door that led to the kitchen area but came to a sudden stop. Evans was sat on a chair in the middle of the room and he was shaking all over. His normally glowing coffee brown skin was dulled to a listless grey tone.

"Rick?"

He seemed completely unaware of her presence. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and said his name again. He lifted his head and looked at her. The expression in his eyes was one of shock gradually turning to one of anguish as he recognised her.

"Rick, what's happened?"

He shook his head at her and Erica decided she needed to get help to deal with whatever was going on.

"Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

She hurried through the fire door and opened the door to room 7. The group smiled at her but continued chatting.

"Dave. I need help. Something's wrong with Rick."

Starsky was instantly on his feet. "Where is he?"

"He's in the kitchen. He was obviously on his way here, bringing his chair as usual, but he's just sitting there. Something's happened."

Everyone looked concerned as Starsky followed Erica back out to the kitchen. Evans looked up as they entered. Starsky leant down to the young man and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Ricky? What's going on, pal?"

Evans grabbed onto Starsky's arms with trembling hands. "I think he's really going to hurt me," he whispered. "You gotta help me. I don't know what to do."

Starsky was shocked by the fear in the whispered words. He pulled Evans up off the chair and into his arms, giving him a reassuring hug. "We're not going to let nothing happen to ya. Come on. Come with me and you can tell us what's going on."

He gently led Evans into his and Hutch's room. Erica followed along behind with the wooden chair in her hands. As he led Evans over to sit on the sofa, Starsky told Hutch to put the kettle on. He disappeared into his bedroom and came back with a blanket, which he wrapped around Evans, who was still shaking. Hutch made him a mug of hot tea and placed it carefully in the trembling hands. Evans sipped his drink and gradually his colour improved. After a while he pushed the blanket down and smiled wanly at everyone.

Erica took his hand in hers and said, "Tell us what happened?"

Evans looked down at his feet. "He came back just as I was about to leave for our study group. He was angry about something. Don't know what…he wouldn't let me past…then he grabbed me…he threw me against the wall…When his hand pushed against my spine…I think he was holding something metal…or he was wearing – knuckle dusters, maybe?..." Evans opened his mouth a couple of times but couldn't seem to say any more about what had happened.

"This is your roommate, Skinner, you're talking about?" Hutch asked.

Evans nodded.

Starsky pulled his chair closer to Evans so that their knees were almost touching. "Ricky? The broken rib a few weeks ago…Was that Skinner?"

Evans shook his head but then said, "Friends of his, I think…They surrounded me in the showers, called me names and then threw me against the wall."

Hutch let out a disgusted puff of air and Starsky shook his head, looking very angry.

Gently, Hutch asked, "What else has been going on? There's more isn't there?"

"This has been going on a long time, hasn't it?" Starsky looked at Evans for confirmation. "All term, I think. The missed assignments, the demerits?"

Evans nodded miserably and then slowly, hesitantly, started to tell them what had been happening; how he'd come back to his room just before the first block ended and found his belongings had been rifled through – how this had happened every couple of weeks since and items had been taken; how one time his key had been hidden and his roommate had locked him in, making him late for a class and earning him his second demerit; how assignments had been hidden and then turned up the day after they were due in, earning Evans his first and fourth demerits; how one day, one of his dress shoes had been taken, earning him his third demerit for being out of uniform; how he'd been beaten, not once, but twice in the showers, following a late running PT session when there weren't other cadets around to be witnesses. He told them about the name calling and the attempts to trip him up on the way to classes; how his roommate left disgusting notes on his desk, saying what he thought he should have done to him and suggesting he leave the academy before he got what his 'kind' deserved.

By the time he'd finished speaking, his friends were outraged on his behalf. Myerson was all for going to Evans room and giving his roommate a piece of his mind and the beating he felt he deserved.

Hutch spoke across the outraged babble. "What we are going to do is write down every incident that's happened with dates and times as best you can remember, Rick. Then tomorrow morning, we're going to make an appointment to see Chief Stewart and, tonight, you are sleeping here on the couch and not going back to your room until Skinner is kicked out of the academy. If for some unfathomable reason, Chief Stewart sees fit not to kick him out, Starsky and I will insist that you get a new roommate at the very least."

Erica squeezed Evans' hand again. "We'll all insist. He's not touching you again. No-one is."

Evans closed his eyes. "Thanks."

Starsky patted his knee. "You're safe here. We're your family on campus. Ya shoulda told us what was going on but, now we do know, we're gonna protect ya and get it sorted out. You're not alone, ya hear me?"

Everyone made noises of agreement and Evans opened his eyes. He looked at all of them and swallowed. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I don't know what I'd do without all of you. I'd have given up before now, for sure. I thought I could ride it out by myself. I didn't want to seem weak but it's got too big to handle on my own. I need your help."

"You got it. Whatever you need," Myerson said. "We're all here for you."

Starsky stood up. "Give me your key, Ricky."

Evans pulled his key out of his pocket. "W-What are you going to do?"

"Hutch and me are going to pack up all your stuff and bring it down here for safe-keeping. Just in case Skinner gets any ideas."

Evans looked relieved. "Thank you. A lot of my stuff is already packed in my cases in my bedroom. I was trying to make sure he couldn't get at my things so easily."

"Well, that'll make it much easier," Hutch said. "Hank, give us a hand. You can bring Rick's bedding down for him."

The three of them headed out of the room, leaving Myerson and the two women to look after Evans. They quickly made their way up to his room on the fourth floor. The door was locked so they went in using Evans's key.

"I kinda wish Skinner was here," Hank said, angrily.

Starsky patted his shoulder. "I know how you feel, buddy, but it's probably best that he isn't or we might get into trouble. We gotta be straight as an arrow on this so Ricky stays blameless and Skinner and his friends get what they deserve."

The three of them quickly packed up the rest of Evans's belongings, his study guides and papers and his bedding and then headed back down to the ground floor. When they got back, they stowed everything in Starsky's room for the time being.

"How about we forget going out to the bar tonight and hang out here instead?" Hutch suggested.

"Yeah, I got a pack of cards. We could take it in turns to play pinochle or something else," Starsky suggested.

They all packed their books away and set about playing several rounds of cards and then Starsky persuaded Hutch to get his guitar out and they finished the evening singing songs that they took it in turns to request. Evans looked much happier by the end of the evening. After a long chat with Starsky and Hutch, when everybody else had left, he felt less anxious about the prospect of seeing Chief Stewart in the morning and even managed to get some sleep on the threadbare old sofa. It was the first night for about ten weeks that he hadn't slept with one eye open.