Chapter 25

'You are not on this case Hutchinson, and that's final' Dobey's voice thundered down the telephone at him and Traff, who'd been in the kitchen and could hear him distinctly could imagine the big black man dabbing at this face with his big white hanky.

'I need to be. Edgar Fisher has taken my partner. You heard my report. You know exactly what he's done to him in the past. God knows what he's doing to him now' Hutch yelled back.

'Hutchinson, you are off the case. Do you understand that? Off. The. Case. How much clearer can I make it?'

'Why? Explain it to me Cap'n, coz until you do, I don't think you're thinkin' straight.'

There was a moment's pause as the bluff insubordination was processed down the line and then, amazingly, Dobey's voice softened. 'For two reasons. First, you care too much and you're too close to this case.'

'All the more reason for me to be on it' Hutch snapped back insistently. Dobey let it ride.

'And second because you're still sick son. And sick cops are usually dead cops before the day is out. You said it yourself. Edgar Fisher is dangerous. Yes, it looks like he's taken Starsky. Do you really think that me, or your partner would want you getting' shot up all over again because you were too damned close to stay put and let others handle the investigation?'

The mention of Starsky's name sent visions of curly hair, wicked deep blue eyes and goofy grins flitting through Hutch's mind. Starsky! Damn, he'd been through enough already. They both had. Fisher might have programmed the brunet, but Hutch still suffered alongside him. The blond's shoulders slumped in defeat.

'I need to do something. I need to be out there lookin' Cap'n.'

'You need to rest son. As soon as I know anything I'll tell you, honest. I have an APB out on Fisher and Starsky and we have a good description and the photo taken from the dust cover of Fisher's book. There's upwards of 200 cops got their eyes peeled on the lookout for him. Someone will find him. Dammit, with that sort of coverage, if someone sneezes on 5th Street we're gonna know about it.'

'But they aren't me. I need to…' Hutch tried one last time.

'You need to calm down and rest. I'll phone when we have something. And believe me Hutchinson, we will have something.' The phone went dead and Hutch stood with his forehead pressed against the wall as he wearily replaced the receiver. Behind him, he felt a body and turned to see Traff holding a cup of hot herbal tea out. Hutch took it, smiling weakly.

'Could have done with beer' he said tonelessly.

'You could have done with staying in bed, but as you don't seem to be able to follow orders, at least sit down for a while huh?' the soldier said gently leading his buddy to the sofa. Hutch sat down and sipped at the drink.

'I should be doing something' he reiterated unnecessarily.

'You should do what the man said and rest. When they find Fisher and get Curly back you're gonna need all your strength then.'

'You heard him say that?'

Traff grinned. 'Your Captain would have made a good Sergeant Major. He has a voice like a foghorn! Yeah, I heard him. He talks sense Hutch. You are too close to this. When they find Edgar, you want this done by the book. You want to make sure he don't have a single loop hole he can wriggle through because if you can prove what he did to Starsky and what he made Starsky do to you, you're gonna hit paydirt. Think about it. Done right, you can nail him for attempted murder, kidnap, assault on Starsky and the murders of those poor kids in the children's home.'

Piercing crystal eyes looked back at the soldier and for a moment Traff thought that Hutch was going to launch into a long tirade. Instead, the blond snorted softly. 'You'd have made a good cop, you know that.'

The dark haired soldier grinned. 'I'll take that as a compliment, but I think my medical is better!'

'Why did I leave him Traff?'

'Huh?'

Hutch rested his head back and stared at the ceiling. 'Why did I leave him alone at the hospital? I left it wide open for Edgar to take him again, after all he's gone through.'

Silently the soldier came to sit by his friend's side. 'You can't be by his side every minute of the day. He's a big boy. He can look after himself.'

'Is he? Sometimes I wonder.' Hutch's eyes misted over as he thought back to a dimly lit room, a single bed at its centre and a crowd of medical machinery around it. Starsky lay still and quiet at the centre of the contraptions, the machine breathing for him, drips feeding into his arms and a his chest swathed in a white gauze dressing. In those early days after Gunther's men had shot him, Hutch had never dared to touch his partner in case he upset his partner's fragile hold on life. In those early days had been helpless, unable to move talk or even breathe for himself.

Once he'd proved the medics wrong had had made his miraculous recovery, Hutch was once again by his side as he sweated through months of intense physiotherapy and again the blond was reminded just how frail his partner was.

As for being a big boy and able to look after himself? Well yes, there was no one more streetwise, tough and capable of handling himself in a fight. Starsky was genuine, caring, compassionate to all those who were his friends or who needed protection. But to the flake on the street, or to those who tried to prey on the poorer end of society, the brunet could be dangerous. His temper was notorious although he laboured constantly to keep it under control, but when angry; when he really lost it, there was no one meaner, moodier or more dangerous.

Yet while others saw the brash tough exterior, Hutch had seen the other side of his partner. The side that needed a touch, a smile of reassurance and the presence of his partner to get him through life's tough times. While he could certainly look after himself, there were times when Hutch had looked at Starsky and been reminded of a little boy, lost and alone. The blond snickered. 'A big boy huh? Yeah, most of the time.'

Traff nodded. 'Yeah, I know I know. I've seen the other side of him too. But when did you ever know Curly cave in in a crisis? Afterwards maybe, when he's safe, but never when something bad is going down. He'll tough it out with the best of 'em. He'll be fine. Whatever happens, he'll be fine and when we get him back, we're both here to look after him huh? That's when he'll need you to be on top form, so I need you to rest Chief. Got that?'

Hutch nodded. He hadn't known Tom Trafford for as long as Starsky had. The two men had served together in the Army. They'd met during basic training and had been shipped out to 'Nam together. There, they'd been part of a recognisance unit and when Starsky had been held as a guest of the Viet Cong, it had been Traff who had led the rescue attempt.

When Bob Grice had wired his partner up with enough C4 to blow up the city (see Countdown by this author), it had been Traff, the bomb disposal expert that had been called in and it had been then that Hutch had been introduced. So like his partner had the soldier been that Hutch had fallen into an easy friendship with Traff right from the beginning.

'I'm glad you're here buddy' he said simply, but with feeling.

'You've been there for me, more than once. Don't get all misty eyed on me there Hutchinson. We still have work to do.'

'Such as?'

'Such as you stop telling me you're ok and start looking after yourself. Why didn't you tell me you had a physiotherapy appointment this morning?'

Hutch blushed. 'Slipped my mind.' The tables were turned. Once upon a time it would have been him berating his partner for not taking his recovery seriously. Now Traff was staring at him hard.

'Forgot huh? Well bozo, having had a similar injury in the past, I kinda know what they do. So. Off with the shirt and lets start getting that shoulder moving huh?'

For the next half hour, Traff worked at Hutch's wounded shoulder gently but firmly until the blond was hot, tired and Traff could tell he was getting past the point where he could stifle the groans. The session came to an abrupt halt when the telephone rang and Traff answered it.

As Hutch tottered into the bathroom feeling like he's just done several more rounds with the Omaha tiger, he could hear the soldier talking and he'd just run the water in the basin when Traff came to the bathroom door.

'Make it quick Chief, Dobey's on the line. Says one of the patrolmen has spotted a man answering Edgar Fisher's description.'

Hutch hurriedly dried himself off and padded quickly into the living room where he grabbed the phone from its resting place on the table.

'Hutchinson. Speak to me.'

'Hutchsinon, Markovitz and Fell have just radioed to say they've followed Fisher's car. He stopped at a Seven Eleven on 3rd and now he's headed into an apartment block off Palm Canyon Road, near the corner of Liberty Way. I said you'd be there, but Hutchinson – no heroics. I shouldn't be telling you this, you're still off duty.'

'I don't care whether I'm off the planet. Thanks Cap, I'm on my way. Oh, and in the mean time, tell Markovitz not to touch Fisher, he's mine.'

'Hutchinson!….Hutch!' Dobey yelled, but Hutch slammed down the phone and turned triumphant to his friend.

'Grab your stuff we're moving. Fisher's gone to ground and we're getting' in on the action.' His pains forgotten, Hutch shouldered with a grimace into his holster, checked his weapon and stuffed his cuffs into his back jeans pocket. Traff snagged the keys to the car and stood by the door.

'You might be capable of doing the Dirty Harry routine Blondie, but we need to get there in one piece. I'm driving.'

With a curt nod, Hutch followed Traff down the steps and out to his car. He slapped the mars light on top and the soldier gunned the engine and set off up the road leaving a stripe of burnt rubber on the black top behind him. The drive over to Liberty was accomplished quickly and as they reached the neighbourhood, Traff doused the lights and sirens. It wouldn't do any good to alert Fisher to their presence too early. Drawing to a halt outside the insignificant looking apartment block Hutch got stiffly out of the car, nodded to Markovitz and Fell and with them as back up and Traff bringing up the rear, they headed into the block.

There was a small reception area and a bored looking concierge on the front desk and Hutch leaned on the counter top, slammed the woman's magazine closed with one hand and glared at her as she raised her head to snap at him.

'Edgar Fisher. Which flat?'

'Who's asking?' she asked

Hutch took his shield from his pocket and flashed the silver badge at her. 'BCPD that's who. Going back to her magazine as though a police raid was an every day occurrence, she mumbled '220c, second floor.'

'Is there an elevator?' the blond asked, realising he didn't really have the strength to be charging up four flights of stairs.

'Corner' the woman pointed without raising her head again.

'Gee thanks' Hutch grunted and made his way to the iron gated elevator carriage.

'When we go in, you three get to Starsky, I'll handle Fisher. And guys, don't talk to him and don't look him in the eyes. He's dangerous ok?' the blond commanded. He received nods of confirmation and stood back as Traff slid the gates open again on the second floor landing.

The walked quietly along the corridor and waited for a moment outside 220c. Hutch stood one side of the door, his Colt in his hand as Fell stood at the other side, his own weapon held ready. Markovitz stood back with Traff as Hutch rapped on the door. 'Bay City PD. Open up' he shouted, expecting no response.

A moment later, however, the door opened and Edgar Fisher's tall, thin frame filled the doorway. He smiled as though he'd been expecting the cops and as Hutch and Fell pushed their way into the flat, he stood back passively.

Traff, Markovitz and Fell immediately fanned out, quickly searching the few rooms, but the apartment wasn't exactly the White House and within seconds they were back in the living room reporting that they'd found no-one.

Hutch glared at Fisher, his eyes boring into the tall man's face.

'What have you done with my partner?' he growled.

Edgar smiled at him 'Too late Detective, he isn't here.'

The blond grabbed hold of Fisher's collar and slammed him back against the wall, leaning into the thin body with the arm holding his gun across Fisher's upper chest.

'You tell me where he is, and you tell me now.'

Fisher remained unfazed, his face a cold featureless mask. 'He isn't here.'

'I can see that, Einstein. Where is her?'

'I have no idea.'

Hutch twitched his arm against Edgar's chest. 'You took him, you admit that.'

'I didn't "take" him, he came with me of his own free will…..well, maybe not free will. Your weak minded partner provided no challenge at all for me. It was like dealing with a kid when I finally got to him. You can tell you had no father figure in his life at all. He was so willing. That's his problem you know, he aims to please all the time.'

Hutch closed his eyes, sickened by Fisher confessions. 'Just tell me where my partner is' he hissed through clenched teeth. 'Why him? Why not me?'

'Because his mind was pliable, yours wasn't. That's what comes of doing homework Detective. Those who've suffered a major trauma, or several in the case of David, like fighting in 'Nam or being shot. They're always so easy to manipulate. Too easy really.'

Hutch's temper flared and he drew back his fist to strike the man. As it started its forward arc, however a strong fist caught it and Hutch's angry eyes fixed on Traff's.

'Don't do this Chief. Take is easy' the soldier said softly.

Hutch's fist relaxed marginally and he stared back at his captive.

'I'm gonna say this once. I want you to tell me where you've taken Starsky and so help me if you've harmed one hair on his head, I'm gonna hunt you down for the rest of your natural life. You're goin' down for so long you'll never see the light of day. Do I make myself clear?'

Edgar smiled infuriatingly. 'Crystal Detective. There's only one slight snag. I have no idea where David is now, truthfully. We took a little ride down to the beach, south of the city and he um….insisted on taking a swim. It was late and dark, but I couldn't stop him. He seemed…..shall we say, compelled? So you see, I can honestly say that I don't know where he is, but I'd hazard a guess that your friend is shark bait now. You should probably start planning his requiem.'

Hutch's grip on Edgar's tall frame slipped, the world dipping sideways as he staggered back as though hit by a freight train. Fisher's words were cold; calculating and they pierced him to his core.

'When? When did he…?'

'Last night. He'll be long gone by now. All alone in the cold, dark ocean. Shame!'

'No' Hutch whispered. 'Oh my God, no.'

Markovitz who was standing behind him managed to catch at the blond as he staggered back and lowered the sweating, shaking blond onto the closest chair.

Traff walked up to Edgar calmly and looked him in the eye. Very slowly and very quietly he hissed 'You think your something special, but you're not. We've got you and now we're gonna nail you good and proper. Got that? Take him away boys.'

Fell and Markovitz cuffed the passive man whose eyes never left Hutch and as they walked him away, he looked back over his shoulder.

'He's dead. Forget him. I bet he's forgotten you.'

Hutch moaned his head in his hands as the two uniformed cops took Fisher away. Traff hunkered down at the side of his buddy, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

'C'mon chief. Lets' get you back home.'

Pain filled crystal eyes met emerald greens. 'He's not dead Traff. I'd know. I'd feel it. Take me to the beach huh? There's gotta be clues. We just need to find 'em.'

Seeing the steely glint in the blond's eyes and knowing Hutch wouldn't rest until he'd seen the beach and the ocean, Traff helped his buddy to his feet and together they walked slowly from Edgar Fisher's house. As they passed the bedroom door on the way out, they paused and hitched a breath at the sight. Plastered all over the walls were colour pictures of pin up men and boys, mostly naked and all tanned and oiled and posed, obviously cut from magazines. Nestling in the middle of them, Polaroid pictures showing Starsky outside his apartment were pinned giving testament to the fact that Fisher had been watching the brunet for some time.

Hutch closed his eyes and staggered against Traff. Had it not been for the soldier's strong arm around his waist he would have fallen. 'Bastard' he spat as his friend helped him from the flat.