Chapter 9 - sorry its late! combination of decorating the bedroom and Mum's broken arm

The visit from Dr and Mrs Hutchinson got Traff to thinking that maybe he ought to ring Starsky's Mom and tell her exactly what was happening. When the brunet had been arrested three and a half weeks ago, it had been council of war time and Dobey, Traff and Huggy had got together to decide what they should say to Starsky friends and more to the point, his family. There was no doubt that in her hay day, Rachel had been small fire brand of a woman – a tiny Jewish dynamo who drove along the Starsky machinery with terrifying efficiency. With her eldest son's near death experience at the hands of James Gunther's goons, however, her health had started to deteriorate and more than once, the brunet had had a phone call to say she was sick with the flu, or a fever. Starsky had spent hours trying to convince his Mom to move down to California and sunnier climes where the weather might be better for her health, but Rachel was even more stubborn than her son and had insisted on staying put in New York state, saying all her friends were up there. She did, however make one concession and moved from her inner city house in Brooklyn out to Rochester stating it was plenty "woodsy" for her. Hutch had laughed at the sentiment, he heard it so many times from his curly headed partner.

When Starsky had effectively arrested himself and had refused the idea of bail, Dobey had taken the decision to ring Rachel and save her too much anxiety by telling her that Starsky would be out of circulation for a while and that he wouldn't be able to call her. She'd been both wife of a cop and Mom of a cop long enough to recognise the euphemism as meaning Starsky was undercover and had been wise enough not to ask any more questions. For a couple of weeks at least, the team of friends had some breathing space,

Seeing Mrs Hutchinson with her own son had gotten Traff to thinking that maybe the time had come to come clean with Mrs Starsky, however, and once he was happy that Hutch was settled into the hospital, was asleep, and would be for some time with the aid of the doctor's sedation, he wound his weary way home, back to Hutch's apartment. It was early morning and calculating the time differences, he decided it was the right time to ring. Traff hated what he had to do, and yet, he felt that it was also the right thing. The soldier had never known his own Mother, but he knew instinctively that if he had, he would have wanted her to know if anything, good or bad, was happening to him.

Traff picked up the phone and dialled the number that Hutch had noted down in his phone book. He waited for the connection and then listened as the ring tone sounded at the other end. It rang for some time and the curly haired soldier was about to put the receiver down when a sleepy male voice sounded down the line.

'H'llo'

The voice sounded so much like Starsky's that for an instant Traff was taken aback. 'Is um…. Is Rachel there?' he asked haltingly

'No, Ma is up north visiting friends. Who is this?'

'This is Tom Trafford, one of Dave's friends. And you're….?'

'Nicky, his brother. What' d'ya want?'

'I um….well I needed to talk to his Mom really. I was just um….'

'Is it about David?' What's he gone an' done now? Gotten himself shot up again?' There was little care in the younger man's voice, but at the same time, there was curiosity.

'No, he's ok. Well, he isn't sick. He's um… Can I get in touch with your Mom?'

'No, she was sick, so I sent her upstate to visit with her cousin. I don't want her worryin', so if there's anythin', you should probably tell me' Nicky said.

Traff knew some of the history between his friend and Nicky, but this was, after all, Starsky's brother, and he had a right to know. 'Well I don't really want to worry anyone, but um…. Dave's got himself into some trouble.'

'Trouble? My law abidin' "holier than thou" brother? You got the wrong guy mister. Dave would no more get himself into trouble than the Pope would convert to Islam. What's he supposed to have done? Can I talk to him?'

Traff took a deep breath. This conversation wasn't being helped by the fact that Nicky seemed to be enjoying the fact Starsky was on the wrong side of the law. Nevertheless….. 'He's um…..well, something happened, and we don't know what, but we're gonna find out. He wasn't acting like himself, and Hutch don't blame him but…'

Nicky's voice sounded impatient. 'Whatever ya gotta say just spit it out, ok? Does he need money? Does he have to pay a fine or sumthin?'

'No, he's in jail.'

'Jail? My big brother? You're puttin' me on!'

Traff ground his teeth, fighting for composure. 'I wish I was. He's in Bay City Pen.'

'Jeez that's a bit harsh. What's he done? Driven that parade float of his too fast?'

'No, would that he had. The charge is attempted murder. He shot Hutch. Twice.'

There was silence for a second or so as the information settled into place. 'He…. Hutch? What the? NO, you got it wrong. They were like…. How is he – Hutch? Is he ok? I mean, not ok. My brother may be a lot of things, an' one of 'em is a crack shot. So I don't expect that Blondie's ok, but…… shit, this is a wind up aint it?'

'I wish it were Nicky, but straight up, he's in jail. The sentencing hearing is next week.'

'No, wait! Sentence? He aint had a trial yet.'

'He doesn't want one. He's adamant he's guilty. He won't hear of a trial.'

'He's got a good lawyer, right?'

'Uh huh. the best. We made sure of that, but if he decides he's pleading guilty, there aint a whole lot we can do.'

'OK, don't let him do nuthin crazy. I'm gonna get the next plane out. I should be with you later on today. Can you arrange a visit for me?' Nicky asked.

Traff nodded. 'Um Nick, you won't um……you won't take this as…..'

A quiet snort echoed down the line. 'He's my bro and he's hurtin'. I'm a lot of things, but even I can't be so callous. Can you pick me up at LAX?'

Arrangements made, Traff replaced the phone hoping that he'd done the right thing. Starsky had often told him tales of his errant younger brother, but Traff had never met Nicky and didn't know if, and how far he could trust him. That said, though, the soldier knew Starsky needed something to shake him out of his lethargy. He waited a couple of hours until he felt sure the office at the Penitentiary would be open and then made the necessary phone call, organising a visit both for himself and for Nicky later that day.

Four o'clock that afternoon and after another visit to Hutch, Traff found himself waiting outside the arrivals hall of the airport. He knew Hutch's feelings towards Nicky and had purposely not told the blond that he'd called. Hutch was looking markedly better and even went so far as to agree that hospital had been the best place for him and yes, he would stay put for another 24 hours to give the antibiotics full chance to kick in.

Satisfied that at least one of his friends was on the mend, Traff leaned easily against his Thunderbird, arms folded and ankles crossed as he waited for Nicky to appear. Five minutes later Starsky's brother emerged from the airport carrying a small overnight bag. Traff had no difficulty in recognising him. The chocolate coloured curls and handsome good looks were obviously a Starsky family trait and he walked straight over to the younger man and held out his hand.

'Nick?'

The younger Starsky grinned, giving the soldier a once over. 'Sure. You're Tom right?'

'Uh huh. Traff to my friends. We have visits booked for 5 and 5:30, shall we?' he said, loading the case into the tiny back space and getting into the car. Nicky trotted round to the passenger side and they drove immediately over to the prison.

Once inside and formalities and searches having been made, Traff smiled at Nicky. We both have 30 minute visits. You go first, I wanna go see the Doc who's looking after your brother. I'll meet you back here.'

Nicky nodded and with the air of someone who was a little too comfortable around prisons, he walked into the visiting hall and sat down to wait.

Sitting on the hard seats, he looked around. Same old same old, he thought. Dirty walls, steel mesh at the small windows set high up in the walls. He'd seen it all before. He jumped a little as the door at the far end of the hall opened and a familiar figure shuffled through it. Escorted by two guards, Starsky made his way reluctantly down the hall and came to a ragged halt in front of the table. As the two guards pushed him down onto the chair and took a few steps back, he glared angrily at his younger brother.

'Who told you I was here?'

'Aww, Jeez, David. And after I flew across country to see ya. Couldn't you have thought of a cuter greeting than that?'

'Cut the crap Nicky, I aint in the mood.'

'Traff told me. He's worried for ya. I came coz I wanted to see my "butter wouldn't melt in his mouth" brother behind bars, but now I'm here….'

'What? Wanna crow huh? Fine, go ahead, it's no more than I deserve' Starsky said wearily.

'Maybe now I've seen ya I want to help. You look like shit Bro. What are they doin' to ya?'

Starsky's eyes refused to meet his younger brother's. 'Nuthin' he said defensively. 'How's Ma? Does she know?'

'No, she thinks you're still on an assignment.'

'Well you aren't gonna be able to keep the secret too much longer. Sorry. But I guess you'll enjoy it won't ya?' the brunet muttered bitterly.

'Enjoy?...no, that's not the word I'd use. David, I admit I came down here thinkin' this was some joke, or a big mistake. I was curious, and yeah, there was an element of me wantin' to see my big cop brother behind bars.'

'But?'

'But now I'm here….. How'd ya get the bruises Bro?'

'Most of the flakes in here are here coz of me an' Hu…..coz of me. They like the idea they can get some retribution. It's fine.'

'I gotta ask. Did you do it? Did you shoot him?' Nicky asked, his own paler blue eyes boring into his brother's.

Defiantly Starsky raised his own eyes and returned Nicky's steely gaze. 'Yeah, I did. I shot him twice, and before you ask, I aimed to kill.'

'Why?' Nicky's voice was quiet, awed.

'I dunno. I have no fuckin' idea, but I did it and I deserve all this, an' more besides. Fuck! If they'd gimme a gun, I'd turn it on myself, but I guess that's the easy way out.'

'Let Traff help ya David. There must be sumthin. You'd never do that to Hutch unless someone made ya. Are you protectin' someone?'

Starsky snorted softly. 'Believe me, I've been over this a thousand times in my head. Just leave it huh? I did it an' now I'm gonna pay. How's Ma?'

'She's with Rebekka upstate. She had the flu again. I…. I can't tell her David.'

'You don't have to. I'm gonna write her.'

Nicky leaned forward. 'Just let 'em help you….please? I know we've never been close, an' believe me, I'd like nuthin more than to be crowin' over ya right now. But this is too serious for that. Let 'em help ya Bro, before it's too late huh?'

As the guards started to take hold of Starsky again, at the end of his half hour visit, Nicky looked once again into his brother's eyes. He saw nothing there but hopelessness and defeat…… and hurt, both mental and physical. 'Promise me David. You'll let them help?'

As they pulled the brunet to his feet in preparation for the swap round in visits, Starsky closed his eyes sadly. 'It's too late for that Nicky. Thanks for flyin' down here an' seein' me. Now go home and look after Ma huh?'