Chapter 18

The wind hurled him back against the door to begin with, but Starsky pushed himself out into the windswept garden, the cold rain stinging his exposed skin and plastering his curls to his head within seconds. He couldn't believe how cold it had become after the heat of the past few days. He shivered a little as the wet penetrated his sweater and tee shirt, drenching him to the skin within minutes.

Turning back to look at the house, he saw Hutch looking out of the bedroom window, backlit by the light from the bedside table, making it appear his golden head was wreathed in a halo. Hm, more like a fallen angel! He chuckled to himself. He flipped a wave to his partner, saw the wave in return and turned the corner of the house into the full face of the wind as he started the struggle up the path.

The flashes of lightening and thunder cracks were coming more regularly now as he pushed himself on up the hill, wondering for the twentieth time why he was doing this. Only a mad man would follow someone he only thought he saw, out into weather like this. The path seemed steeper in the dark and although he had been that way twice already, the uneven surface was treacherous and he lost his footing several times, turning his ankle and cursing. A tiny stream had developed on the path, hiding some of the stones and making the surface greasy and slippery. The rain was now dripping down his face from the dark curls over his forehead and coursing down his face to drip onto his chest from his chin. Once or twice he wiped the water away with his hand, but eventually gave it up, realising he was fighting a loosing battle. It trickled down his neck, sending irritating itches down his spine, hell bent on distracting him from his purpose.

After what seemed like forever, he battled his way onto the flat at the top of the hill. Here he felt exposed, knowing it was not the safest place to be in a thunder storm. Pushing himself on, he started down towards the woodland and lake, wondering why on earth Hannah would be here on such a night. He felt such a fool for believing that he'd seen her in his room, but the feeling of needing to be up here was too insistent to ignore.

As he neared the woodland, he thought he saw a movement amongst the trees, but it was difficult to make anything out clearly in the driving rain and close blackness as the clouds shut out the moon and stars. The dark seemed to wrap around him, suspending reality. He pushed himself forward, shaking his head to rid the curls of the droplets of water threatening to blind him momentarily. He felt like he'd never been so wet since that time with Hutch at that swimming pool. He could almost feel the weight of that dratted cardigan as it pulled him down.

There it was again, yes, definitely a movement, there to the left. Instinctively, Starsky reached his left hand round to his right side, his cop's instinct taking over, looking for his gun. But of course, it wasn't there. He'd never have been allowed to bring it to England anyway. He moved cautiously now, not really sure why, but feeling vulnerable and exposed. He made the tree line and ducked behind the nearest tree, casting about for further signs of life.

As he looked further into the wood, he thought he saw something glint in the distance. Quietly and quickly, Starsky started to run from one tree to the next, hiding behind each until he got a clear view.

There was a man, standing looking in his direction. The man was perhaps 35, tall and well built, with a shock of black hair, plastered down by the rain. His skin was pale and as another lightening flash lit up the area, the brunette could see the man's eyes were staring wildly around him. He looked the epitome of a mad man and Starsky leaned his back against his tree, catching his breath and wondering just what the hell was going on.

Daring another look, he saw the man was armed with a long bladed knife. He was nursing it to him as a woman would hold a baby. Starsky wondered if this was Hannah's husband maybe? Who else would be up here in a thunder storm at this time of night?

Well you are, Davey!

OK. What should he do now? He knew if he had his gun, he'd be inclined just to go out there waving it and shouting 'police, freeze'. He smiled grimly, well that won't work, now will it? For a moment he considered going back down the hill to get his partner, but in reality, Hutch would never get up here in time without help, with his leg and all.

OK, so its up to you Curly

Sneaking another look around the tree trunk, he picked a time when there had just been a flash of lightening, and the sky was once again dark. He took a fix on the guy's position and ran towards him, skidding to a halt behind a tree just behind the man. But the man had seen him and had turned to face him, seeking him out behind his tree. As he heard the heavy footsteps coming towards him, Starsky came out into plain sight, his hands out at his sides showing he was unarmed. The man lunged towards him, blade outstretched and the brunette side stepped neatly,

'Hey, man. What ya doing up here?' Starsky asked calmly, trying to establish a connection, as the police manual said.

'Get lost' the mad man shouted, his words whipped away by the wind, to toss their way across the open moorland. 'Don't come any closer, or you'll get what they got'.

Starsky continued walking slowly forward, never taking his eyes from the blade now pointing directly at him. 'My name's Dave. Ya gonna tell me who got what?' he asked patiently.

'Those pieces of shit. Those abominations. They go round with their orange robes on. They killed her. And now it's their turn. You can't stop me. Don't try to stop me' is voice was a scream now, lost as he was in his lunacy.

'Not tryin' to stop anythn' the brunette said gently. 'Just put the knife down, an' we can talk, OK?'

'No, get away from me, you're just like them. All talk, I can't talk any more. I'm past it. Get out of my way'. The last came out with such violence, and the angry man plunged forward towards Starsky.

It was an uneven match, the brunette's 160lbs against the 200+ of the other man. Starsky tried to side step again, but the uneven wet ground tripped him and he slid to his left. As he brought his arms up to save himself from the fall, he felt a cold pain enter his right side just below his ribs. Looking down in surprise, he saw the man pulling the blade away, and a dark stain starting to appear on his sweater. The man pushed Starsky back and both fell to the ground, the mad man on top, holding the blade to the brunette's throat.

The pain in his side was considerable, but easy to ignore with a knife sawing at his neck. Knowing there was no way he could throw off such weight, especially with the wound in his side, Starsky knew he would have to try reason.

Gasping for breath, he tried to get his thoughts in order. 'We can still talk' he rasped. 'I know you're hurtin'. I know what its like when people want you to talk, but you can't, believe me! Just try an' tell me about a bit of it. That'd be a start. Once ya start, it's easier. We can work somethin' out'. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the dull ache radiating from the knife wound, his breath ragged and uneven.

'She died because of them. She died because they brainwashed her, the evil scum ridden…..' the knife dug a little deeper and Starsky felt the skin give a little, and a trickle of blood start.

'Who died? Who brainwashed her?' he tried again desperately.

'My wife' the man cried in anguish, a sob choking him in mid sentence. 'She died giving birth because they said to take a life was against their teachings'.

Starsky realised that, of all the places he could be right now, he just happened to be with the serial killer Sam had been after. Nice one, Davey boy. Any more good luck comin' your way?

'D'ya mean the people at the temple?' he asked, already knowing the answer.

'They killed her. They killed my beautiful girl. They killed her' the man cried, his body sagging back against the brunette's as he lost himself in his grief, his shoulders shaking as sob after wracking sob shook his body.

Starsky reached up and carefully tried to take the knife away, but the man had a death grip on it and wouldn't or couldn't let go. Sliding his body sideways and gritting his teeth at the pain it caused, Starsky managed to slide out from under the man, ending by sitting at his side, his left hand cradling his right side. In the darkness, the blood stain was black and glistening, mixing with the rain still pouring down. It looked like an ink blot against the white fabric.

As Starsky reached again for the knife, the man turned and tried once again to plunge it into the brunette, but this time, Starsky had the upper hand and managed to push himself out of the way. Half standing, the man slipped on the wet ground, still intent on doing the curly haired detective more harm. He screamed like a banshee as he tried to right himself to stop his body falling. But gravity won over and another strangled sound escaped his lips as the knife, still held in front of him, disappeared to the hilt in his chest. He turned sideways, frantic eyes seeking out the only other human being around, the knife still obscenely embedded. Starsky leaned forward, trying to stem the blood that was flowing from the man, knowing it was a mortal wound. He could hear the rattling in the man's chest and saw bloody bubbles at his lips. The man grabbed for the brunette's sweater, taking a handful of the material and bringing the smaller man towards him.

'She was going to have our baby, but the d doctors said she'd n never survive. It was her, or the ch child. She asked the Lama, but he told her she'd f find her own p path'. He was gasping now, but frantic, wanting to tell Starsky, eyes asking for forgiveness.

Starsky held the man's head, cushioning it as he bent forward to shield the face from the driving rain. 'Hey, take it easy, we'll get you outa this. Just lie still', he murmured.

'No…..don't understand. She let the baby live and she d died. She died'. He closed his eyes. 'What would the Bible have said? Stuff that eastern crap. What would it have told her?' he whispered.

Well that's rich, Starsky thought to himself. Ask a Jew about the Bible! Suddenly the words came unbidden. 'I think it would have said "Thou shalt not kill" he said gently.

The man in his arms gave one last shuddering sigh, and the brunette watched with compassion as the light of life left his eyes.

Starsky held on to the man for a moment more before putting the body gently down on the ground. He doubled over, clutching the wound on his side, the pain seeming to redouble in intensity, now that the danger was over. His world was slipping sideways, the rain chilling him now and setting up a deep shiver to his core. He slumped against the side of the tree nearest to him and closed his eyes. He knew he should feel angry, or afraid, but instead he felt at total peace for the first time in as long as he could remember.

He hated the pain though. That he could do without and he whimpered as breathing became an issue, wishing he wasn't alone. Wishing that magic voice of the blond was there to hold on to. He was trying to imagine what his partner would say when another sound filtered into his rapidly numbing brain. A voice at his side soothed him and he cracked his eyes open a little. Hannah was with him, soothing him, fingers running through his sodden curls. She placed her hand on his side, above the knife wound, and the pain lessened, bringing him comfort and warmth as he slowly lapsed into unconsciousness.