Chapter 19

Hutch stared at the dust cover of the book for long moments a tide of rage and fear welling up inside his chest. He'd been so sick in the hospital from the shooting, and then so worried in the last week for his partner that the thought of there being another perpetrator to the crime had been the furthest thing from his mind. He'd been shocked, yes, that Starsky had taken the gun and shot him, but he'd never connected the man they'd met at the fairground with being anything to do with the crime, and neither had he put two and two together and thought that the stranger had in fact been Edgar Fisher. They'd not seen the man they'd interviewed all the ex residents of the children's home about. He'd been off the scene for so long that that was going to be their next step, although with the turn of events it had never come.

Weakly, Hutch collapsed down onto the chair, rested his head back against the back rest and closed his eyes. Now that he thought about it, things started to add up, especially after the conversation he'd just had with the psychiatrist. Starsky had been so tired during the investigation and had complained about late night telephone calls although he'd never actually been able to tell Hutch who had called him. He'd acted strangely each time they'd questioned anyone regarding Fisher and had behaved oddly whenever Hutch had said anything negative about the teacher. Neither had he been willing or able to discuss the content of those conversations on the telephone. Had that been the way that Fisher had got to Starsky? Was that even really possible? The blond looked over to his sleeping partner and nodded. Nothing else that he could think of would cause the brunet to act so out of character. Nothing else would make the curly haired cop turn on the man he'd vowed to spend his working life protecting.

Starsky was still sleeping, obviously exhausted by the short conversation they'd had, but at least he had spoken to Hutch. For the first time in a month, they'd managed to have a conversation and that was a beginning. Whatever Starsky thought, however bad the brunet felt, Hutch had managed to assure the smaller man that he didn't blame him and that he was still there for him, no matter what.

Weariness also swept over Hutch like a black tide. He'd waited so long for his partner to wake up, first to make sure that there was no lasting brain damage, which appeared to be the case. Second to make sure there was no lasting deafness, which also seemed to be ok, and third to make sure that he could explain that what Starsky had been forced to do would never make a difference to their relationship.

Slowly, and with a feeling that finally he was making some sort of progress after a week of blindly thrashing around, Hutch's eyes slid closed and finally he slept a peaceful sleep by the side of the man he was hell bent on protecting.

OOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Traff smiled down at the woman beneath him and gently kissed one closed eyelid. Liz twitched her head and finally one glazed eye opened and she looked up at the handsome man lazily, the after effects of their love making keeping her warm and relaxed.

'Where'd you learn to do that?' she asked, her voice husky from their efforts.

'To do what? I didn't learn, it just came naturally and when I'm with a beautiful woman, it makes it all the easier' he admitted, meaning every word.

'Smooth talker! You didn't need to go to all this trouble you know. I like Dave too. Hell, once upon a time I thought I loved him. Of course I'd do whatever it takes to make this easier for him and for his friends.'

'Including applying for bail for him against his express wishes?' Traff persisted, playing with the end of her hair as he brushed it against her neck, watching the goose bumps rise as the woman shivered.

'Yeah, I guess. Including that. Especially after what you've told me of the treatment he's received. But knowing Dave he won't want to do anything about damages. But I can make an emergency bail application, yes although I should probably um….'

'Get dressed?'

Lis smiled. 'I know I'm only going to speak to Judge Reingold on the phone, but somehow, conversing with the Judiciary when I'm almost naked doesn't seem right.'

'Would it help if you were totally naked?' Traff asked as he watched the muscles in her beautifully rounded ass bunch as she stood up.

'No, Colonel, it would not' she grinned, dressing quickly and pushing her dishevelled hair behind her ears. Traff remained where he was on the ground, led on his side and with his head propped on his hand as he watched the woman suddenly become all business. Liz flicked through the desk diary she kept in her room and ran one well-manicured nail down a list of telephone numbers, pausing at the appropriate one. Clearing her throat, she dialled the number and paused, looking worriedly at her watch and then at the clock on the wall. Both read 9:20 and she sighed, knowing that the Judge wasn't going to take kindly to a telephone application this late on a Friday night when he was probably at home entertaining friends. A moment later, the telephone picked up and Traff heard her starting to negotiate the bail conditions.

As he waited the soldier thought back to his friend and the shock he'd experienced at seeing Starsky's injuries the first time. His blood ran cold as he thought how close he had come to him losing his old army friend for good. Even the doctors had said that it was only because of Starsky's amazing recuperative powers that he'd managed to pull through, and the soldier could only hope that when he did come around, the brunet would still be rowing with both oars and have his hearing in tact.

Five minutes later, and with Traff once more dressed and sitting quietly by the side of the room, Liz finished on the phone, replaced the receiver with a smile and looked up. 'Bail is set at 5000 and no other conditions. I managed to convince the Judge that in his present condition he isn't going to be going anywhere. I have the money, so I'll wire it over to the Judge's office now. As of five minutes ago, Dave is no longer a prisoner. Do you want to phone the Warden, or shall I?'

'Hey, you did all the hard work, the honour is all yours honey. Do you want to come back to the hospital and see him?'

Liz shook her head. 'You and Hutch should have some time with him. Keep him safe and make him well huh? I'll be along when he's woken up and you can be sure he's not bra….. when you know he's going to be ok. That's when I can be of most use. That's when you'll need me for the trial.'

Traff turned the full force of his emerald gaze on the woman, stood and crossed the room. He took her face gently in his hands and kissed her tenderly on the lips. 'You're wonderful. Brains and beauty all rolled into one. Can um… could I see you again?'

Liz nodded, blushing slightly. 'Of course. I thought you'd never ask, soldier boy.'

'I never pass up a date with a beautiful woman. Tomorrow night at seven maybe?'

She smiled shyly, suddenly very aware that they'd just had hot sex in her office and it was only the second time she'd ever met the man. 'Won't you be working?' she asked.

'No, I'm on leave for a month' Traff replied. There was a moment's pause.

'Then why the uniform? I'm curious.'

The soldier paused by the door and winked at her. 'All women are suckers for uniforms. Would I have got past first base if I'd dressed in jeans and a tee?'

Liz chuckled. 'Believe me, with that performance, you'd have had an in park home run if you'd have come dressed your granddad's saggy pants! See you tomorrow.'

The door closed softly behind him and Traff walked away down the corridor of the deserted building. That's what he liked! That was most definitely a twofer! Not only had he secured a measure of freedom for his friend, but he'd got a date with the hottest chick he'd met for an age to look forward to as well.

OOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It was almost ten thirty when Traff found his way back to the hospital. He'd stopped at Hutch's en route to change back into his civvies and wash up and now he was back dressed in jeans and a comfortable sweater against the cool night air. In the time that Starsky had been resident on the third floor, the nursing staff had grown accustomed to having the two visitors as almost constant room mates for the handsome but battered brunet and as he tiptoed past the nurses station, Anna, one of the night nurses looked up and smiled at him.

'Good news' she whispered. 'He woke up a while ago. Hutch is with him now.'

'And is he… does he um….' Traff didn't know how to ask about his friend's mental state, but still needed to be prepared for his first words with Starsky.

'He has some residual weakness down his left hand side, but the doctors think that will resolve itself. He's still deaf on one side, but only time will tell whether that's permanent, but he can hear quite well from the other ear. He's doing well' the matronly woman reported. 'You should probably head on in there and see him.'

Traff grinned at her, took a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and as he got to the room door, he showed it to the two guards from the prison. They both scrutinised the bail order and when asked, they handed a small silver key over to the soldier and waited in a more relaxed fashion outside the door. As Traff walked into the room, he saw that Hutch had pulled the chair up closer to the bed and that Starsky had managed to turn his head until he could face his partner. There was little conversation, but an air of friendship in the room. It was quiet, bathed in the warm amber glow of the single table lamp and Hutch looked up as the soldier walked in.

'Hey. Where've you been? Traff's here Starsk' he said.

In reply, Traff held up the key and made his way to the bed, unlocking the cuff from round Starsky's right wrist. He winced as he saw the reddened impression left by the manacle, but quickly removed the cuff and handed the contraption back to the guard. The two men nodded, mumbled their goodnights and walked off, happy to be rid of the dreaded bed-watch duty. As he walked back into the room four eyes regarded him curiously. Two crystal blue and two deep indigo questioned him silently but instead of answering right away, Traff leaned over the bed making sure the brunet could hear him clearly.

'Liz sends her love and says you never suited handcuffs anyway. You're on bail buddy. How're ya doin' Curly boy?'

Starsky's eyes focused on the soldier. He was still finding it difficult to hear well and it sounded as though he had a bee stuck in his ear, but he followed Traff's lips well enough and he licked his own cracked dry lips.

'Been better' he mumbled honestly.

'I bet. That's what happens when you take on the whole prison at once.

'The doctor says he should make a full recovery' Hutch said gently. 'He's been awake for a while now. Starsk, are you up to talkin'? There's somethin' I need to ask you.'

The brunet concentrated on the words, his brain still not letting him truly believe that after all that had happened and all that he'd done to Hutch, the blond would still want to be around him, let alone try to help him.

'Dunno….try' he rasped.

Traff sat down by the side of the bed as Hutch got up stiffly and reached for the book that had fallen from his lap some time during his snooze. He held it up, dusting it off. 'Beth came by. Seems like you made quite an impression on her buddy.'

'Uh huh….she's….nice' Starsky said simply. He had no energy and no sparkle in his voice. He was "there", but he felt flat, emotionless, as though the world was turning and he was watching it as though from a great distance but wasn't participating in life.

'Yeah, she is too' Hutch continued. 'She said you and her had been doing some hypnosis. Do you remember that Starsk?'

The brunet shook his head gently on the pillow. The last thing he really remembered was that goon of a guard Rafferty and the assaults he'd been forced to endure…and he didn't really want to dwell too much on those memories in any event.

Hutch ploughed on. The doctor had told him that Starsky's short-term memory may well be affected by the blows to his head. 'Ok, well you and she had a couple of sessions and then she asked an expert about conversational hypnotism – about the possibility of you being hypnotised over the telephone maybe? Seems it's not only possible, its probable and although Beth doesn't know it yet, this is the man who's been doing it.' Hutch held up the book and both Traff and Starsky looked at it.

Traff whistled. 'Weird kinda guy. Who's that?'

'Our murderer, Edgar Fisher' Hutch said.

As he started to put the book down however, Starsky tried to sit up in the bed. 'Nooo s'not him…. Not Edgar….didn't murder… he's….not him!' he cried, trying ineffectually to get out of bed. Weak as he was, Starsky was putting up a fair fight.

'Hey Starsk, its ok sssssh buddy. Take it easy huh?' Traff held him down gentlyas Hutch rang for the doctor.

'Starsk, ya have to face it buddy. Fisher is doing this to you. He's hypnotised you an' you have to fight it. Starsk! Starsky please don't struggle, you'll hurt yourself. No, Starsk.' But the more the blond tried to reassure Starsky, the harder the brunet fought and as the medic strode into the room, he flashed a look of anger at the flaxen haired cop before calling for a drug to be drawn up, which he injected into the port on the brunet's IV. As soon as the clear liquid started to infiltrate the curly haired man's system Starsky ceased fighting almost immediately and was asleep more or less straight away.

'What the hell has just gone on. If you cause any more trouble like that I'll have you both expelled from the building' the doctor hissed angrily. 'Are you gonna behave?'

Hutch nodded sadly. 'Yeah. M'sorry Doc, but I think we have our answer. It won't happen again, I promise.'

As the medic left the room, Traff looked up questioningly. 'What the hell?'

Hutch nodded grimly. 'Beth wasn't sure whether he was still under the influence of the first round of hypnosis or not. Looks like we just got our answer.'