Safe House
Chapter 8
Hutch and Huggy were cruising the streets of the East Side. As so often happened when he and Starsky were separated, Hutch had gone back to his partner's apartment and had taken the keys to the big red car, preferring to drive that, feeling the constant connection with the brunette. They had spoken to just about every snitch who'd ever given them a tip off. But either the Terriers were so powerful that no incentive on earth would draw information out from them, or no one knew anything about where they were, or who they were with.
The frustration of the two men in the car was palpable, and Huggy was having a hard time keeping the blonde's temper in check.
'Hey man, why don't we stop for a drink. Then we can talk and plan this through, OK?' he asked for the hundredth time.
'There's nothing to talk about, Hug' the blond had exploded. 'They've got my partner, and they're gonna be doing God knows what to him, an' I can't get to him. Because the Terriers own the streets round here and no one will tell me where he is'. His voice had hiked up another decibel. 'Someone's got to know something. We just need to find 'em'.
Huggy looked over to the blond. 'I know you're hurtin', but getting riled like this aint going to help. Ya gotta chill, man. Now, we go for a cool drink, we stop a minute, an' we regroup, OK?'
With a sigh, Hutch nodded and pulled the car over to the side of the road, got out, and headed for the little diner.
Huggy followed him inside and they sat at a quiet booth towards the back of the diner, where they could see all the comings and goings without being too conspicuous themselves. Ordering drinks, Hutch watched idly as a couple of guys at the front of the diner played chequers. They were men of about thirty or forty, but they had a childlike quality to them, like they weren't quite in this world, and he envied their carefree attitudes. As he passed them he overheard their conversation.
'I won, I won' the one near the window was singing, much as a child would shout to its parent.
'I would'a won, but you cheated' the other responded. 'Ya wanna play again tomorrow?'
The first man nodded his head. 'Ya think big B will be back then?
'Don't know. He went away for a while, but he said he'd try to telephone if his family would let him. Hey! Those are my chequers, hands off'.
Not a care in the world. Crap, what would that be like? To not have to care about anything any more. Was he getting too old for this? How many times did he worry about his partner every single day? How many times had the brunette got himself, and sometimes the both of them, into a tight spot? It had to end! And yet, deep down, Hutch knew that the only reason he actually kept going was for the smaller man. Starsky had an infectious quality to him. You could be in a room on the darkest day of the year, but the brunette could light it up with one of his goofy, lop sided smiles. Hutch smiled to himself as he thought about his partner's own childlike innocence. Starsky saw wonder in just about anything from guinea pigs and stones to the ocean and clouds. He had taken up photography and the black and white images he produced showed his aptitude for finding the unusual in every day situations.
A vision of the dark curly haired man, carrying his camera floated up into his mind. Hang in there, Gordo. I'm coming to get ya. Just hold on.
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At Dennis' "safe house", Starsky was indeed holding on, but barely. The two tormentors had come back into the room carrying a selection of everyday objects, which they laid out in a line for the brunette to clearly see. A length of chain, a thin, flexible cane, cigarettes and a lighter and a kettle, which Dennis now plugged into the wall.
Dennis looked over to Starsky and asked again 'Now, we do mean business, as you can see. You can save yourself a lot of pain if you just tell me where the money is'.
Starsky resigned himself to his fate and mentally set about building up the barriers he knew he would need to get through this. Outwardly, he cultivated his bravado. 'Fuck you' he spat, watching Bobby pick up the length of chain from the table. He eyed the short man as he slowly walked around behind the brunette.
Starsky heard the whistling of the chain through the air as Bobby swung it towards his body, but nothing could prepare him for the agony the blow caused. The chain snaked around his torso, the length of it hitting against his body with a force which felt like a pile driver, feeling each link as it bit into the flesh and bruised the tissue. The end of the chain took on a life of its own and flicked around the front to his stomach, biting into the skin there like a snake, and drawing the first blood. Starsky's body had gone rigid from the first blow and now he pulled in ragged breaths as another blow landed almost on top of the first one. Bobby didn't stop his beating until Starsky's contorting body moved more slowly, knowing that he didn't want to send the man into unconsciousness. He stood back to admire the pattern of deep, bloody marks across Starsky's muscular back, several of the impacts leaving perfect link shaped bruises there.
Starsky was past screaming now. He had held off making a noise as long as he could but as the seventh blow struck, he could hold it in no longer. As the assault continued, the screams had weakened to be overtaken by deep groans, as the brunette flung his head back, trying to escape the terrible punishment.
Something had changed. What was it? Oh yeah, no more blows. That's better. Now, what's he saying? Focus Davey, focus.
Dennis walked over to the sweating form taking the cigarette from his mouth, and tenderly took hold of the chin, bringing the brunette's face up, until he could look into his eyes. 'You are a stubborn man Jack. And a stupid one. What's all this to you anyway? Tell you what. You tell me where the money is and you can have a 10 share. How's that? Fair enough? Huh?'
Starsky took a deep breath, eyeing the tall man. Anything to defer from the next searing pains he knew were around the corner. With all the energy he could muster, he spat into the face, and closed his eyes. Dennis slowly wiped the spittle from his face and without taking his eyes from the detective, ground his cigarette out on Starsky's chest, leaving a deep, round burn. It was more pain than the brunette's body could handle at that time and blessedly, as he groaned one last time, oblivion claimed him.
In the corner of the room, no-one noticed the lanky figure of Bernie, as he looked at the scene in front of him. He didn't like it when his brother got mad. He knew Dennis would start to hit people, like he hit Bernie when he did something wrong. A single tear trickled slowly down his sad face.
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Hutch and Huggy went back to the Metro to catch up with Dobey. As they pushed through the door and into the Captain's office, he was just putting the phone down.
Hutch lowered himself carefully into the chair in the corner, his body still rebelling at the over exertion he was inflicting on it.
'Cap, ya think Ramirez knows which houses the Terriers use? Can ya get a message to Dunn to pump him for the information? He pleaded.
Dobey's face said it all.
'What?' Hutch asked, suddenly anxious. 'Captain, what? Do you have news? Starsky?'
Dobey held up his hand. 'No, son, not Starsky. But we won't be asking Ramirez anything any time soon. He just dove out of a fifteenth storey window. Dunn, Holmes and Fernandez are on their way back now. You get anything from the street?'
'Nothing' the Blond answered bitterly. 'No one wants to know. This gang's got the East Side sewed up so tight, a gnat couldn't escape to give information'. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, and licking his bottom lip, as he often did when troubled.
'Funny isn't it. The only people who don't know that Starsky isn't Ramsey are the hoods who've got Starsky' Huggy said pensively.
The blond looked over to him, too tired to be angry. 'Sometime you can explain the humour to me'.
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Back with the Terriers, Dennis left the room, with Tyrone and Bobby in tow, leaving Starsky's body hanging from the ropes.
His broken wrist was now black, the left hand grotesquely swollen from the strain it had endured. The metal of the handcuff bracelet was still embedded in the engorged flesh and his feet only touched the floor enough to take the strain from it marginally. The brunette's back and chest were now mottled blue and purple, with bloody wounds where the chain's end had bitten into the flesh. The cigarette burn had blistered and was still making its fiery presence known. He was still, mercifully unconscious as Bernie made his way over to him.
Bernie had never liked it when Dennis got mad. Sometimes Dennis hit him, but he knew he deserved it because he was big and ugly and stupid – the others told him that all the time. But he didn't think this man had done anything to make Dennis mad. He hadn't goofed up like Bernie did. It upset the tall man to see Dennis hurting the other man, and he stared now into the face of the bound detective.
He looked quite peaceful, Bernie thought, with his eyes closed like that, and he had pretty hair. He reached up to touch the mahogany coloured curls, gently running them through his fingers, but was distressed as Starsky flinched away, his eyes cracking open a little.
'It's OK' Bernie said. 'Dennis has gone away for a while'. He stepped back a moment. 'I like you' he said.
Starsky tried to make sense of it all. He hadn't seen this tall man before, but he sensed he wasn't bad. He summoned up his energy and licked his cracked dry lips.
'Water?' he rasped, his voice raw from screaming.
Bernie liked being given jobs to do, so he went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, which he held to the bound man's lips. Starsky sipped the water. Feeling it cool in his parched mouth and sweet as it ran down the back of his throat.
Taking a shuddery breath he tried 'You couldn't untie me?' he looked at the tall man.
Bernie looked away. 'Dennis wouldn't like that. He'd be mad at me then. I don't like it when he gets angry at me'.
'Know what you mean' the brunette sighed. 'was worth a try'. He tried to ease the ache in his arms, chest and back, taking a moment to look around him.
'Ya got a name?' he asked
The tall man looked up again, glad that his new friend wasn't mad at him. 'I'm Bernie. Dennis is my brother and………'
'Shut it, you moron' Dennis shouted from the door, striding across the room and backhanding Bernie, sending him plummeting to the floor. The tall man stayed where he'd fallen, whimpering, tears streaming down his face.
'I'm sorry Dennis, honest I am' he whispered.
But Dennis wasn't listening. His attention was once more on the brunette. 'Ah, Mr Ramsey, I see you're awake again, shall we continue, or do you have something you want to tell us?'
'Fuck you' Starsky managed, as he saw Tyrone reach for the cane.