She's Not There
By M. Willow
Chapter Sixteen
The acrid taste of blood, the steady pounding in his head, the excruciating journey up the hill. It was a monumental task and his body screamed with every agonizing movement. Starsky pushed his hand into the dirt and pulled himself up another inch or two. Then he did the same thing again until his feet touched solid ground.
He tasted dirt as he lay on the ground and then he crawled to reach the road. Coming to his feet, he leaned against a tree and looked into the dark abyss. He needed to reach Hutch. Needed to protect him from the monster that was on her way. He stared up at the night sky and said a silent prayer. And he remembered how it all started.
"We'll always be together," she murmured. "Nothing can come between us now."
Starsky held her close, remembering how he had once cared for her, but now he despised her more than anything in the world.
Susan pulled back, wiped her face. "Think you can bring the wine. It's in the refrigerator. I had planned to offer Hutch some, but…"
"I'll get it." He said quickly, rising from the bed. Then he turned and left.
Starsky found the wine uncorked and sitting in the refrigerator. Judging by what had happened to Hutch, he figured it had been drugged. He reasoned that she would have used a needle on Hutch. No way would the blond drink anything around her after he had gone to the store. Starsky was betting that the blond was knocked out cold from her little concoction. And that she had probable did something similar to the wine. But he had no plans of drinking it with her. Now, the tricky part was getting rid of it without arousing her suspicions.
He could dump it; replace it with another bottle of wine. She wouldn't know that he had done that. But maybe dumping the wine into the sink and pouring new wine was a better idea. Susan could have easily marked the bottle, something small, unnoticeable.
He examined the bottle, letting his hand glide over its smoothness. It was red wine and the bottle was dark, but he could find no distinguishing characteristics. And he didn't smell anything unusual either. She'd probably used something tasteless, too, he reasoned.
Susan was formidable, capable of anything, her meek appearance none withstanding. He'd been stupid to let her go on. He should have arrested her a long time ago, taken his chances that they had enough. Hutch had been right on that account. But, instead of listening to his partner, he'd gone on, wanting irrefutable proof. Jenny had gotten away from her father. Had killed people, and he had been so determined to make sure it didn't happen again, that he'd thrown caution to the wind. Had let Susan set Hutch up. And even after he knew what she was up to, he'd still been willing to go on. Opportunity had knocked and he hadn't opened the door. And Hutch had gone along because he loved him that much.
Of course, Starsky had lied to himself. Tonight he'd convinced himself that he was afraid Hutch would get hurt in the crossfire. He'd believed that Susan could possibly have had a gun under the covers. And that Hutch's reflexes were too slow from the drugs she'd given him to get out of the way. But the fact was that Hutch had recovered well enough to move out of the way. And Starsky knew he could have made sure his partner was safe. So now he was standing in the kitchen, sniffing a bottle of wine. And Hutch was waiting at home in the hopes that Susan would come after him and Starsky would finally have his proof.
His decision made, Starsky grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and headed to the bedroom. He found Susan sitting up in bed, looking quite calm. Almost as if she'd forgotten anything had happened to her. Of course, it was just another facet of her warped personality. With her, everything was an act.
"This will make you relax," he said, handing her a glass and pouring for both of them.
"I hope so. I'm so nervous. I feel like a caged beast."
Look like one too, he thought.
"I'm sorry, Susan. You have no idea how sorry I am." Starsky sat down. He noticed that she'd only taken a small sip of the wine and had sat it on the nightstand next to the bed. He looked at the other nightstand and the plant that sat on top of it. It was to the left of them, so in order to reach it, he would have to somehow lean into her and there was only one way of doing that.
Susan touched his face and Starsky kissed her deeply. He still held the glass in his left hand, so he carefully pushed her back, just enough to reach the plant, then he dumped the contents of his glass as she moaned into his mouth. Starsky broke the kiss and took the almost empty glass, covering its contents with his hand. He put it to his mouth and made of show of drinking the entire glass. In reality, he'd only taken a sip, but it was just enough to leave its scent on his breath.
"Come lie next to me," she said.
Starsky took off his shoes, and lay back on the bed. Susan was in his arms the minute he settled. She snuggled against him, her warm breath on his neck. He knew what was expected. He let his body relax, then pretended to fall asleep almost immediately. She was up right away, drawers and suitcases opening and closing. He sneaked a peak at one point. Saw that she was dressed in a skin tight black pants outfit with ruby red shoes. She looked like a hooker. He closed his eyes and waited for her to leave. A few minutes later he heard the front door closing, followed by an engine starting. He put on his shoes and raced out the door.
A young officer was waiting for Starsky when he emerged from his apartment. "Here's the keys," the young blond cop said as he handed them to him. "Saw her drive straight down this street and turn right a few blocks up. There's another officer up there so he'll watch where she goes until you catch up."
There were several officers in the vicinity, all waiting to see where she went, but it was Starsky who would do the following. The rest where there only to keep her in constant sight.
Starsky jumped in the car, inserting the key and revving the engine. "What's she drivin'?" he asked.
"A cherry red 1974 convertible Mustang. Chick's got nerves." The blond cop looked impressed.
Starsky gave him a withering look then slammed the door and took off at a quick pace. Susan was a few blocks ahead of him, but it wasn't difficult to spot the obvious car. He wondered what her game was this time. Why would she drive such a striking car? But he guessed it was no more ridiculous than the stripped tomato he drove. This time, however, he'd left his car at home and was driving the police issued black Ford Pontiac Sedan. Not his usual taste, but he couldn't very well follow her in his eye-catching car and Hutch's monstrosity would have been recognized.
Starsky made a few turns, keeping a good pace with her through crowded streets. She hadn't given any indication that she knew he was there which was making him more than a little nervous. It was just too easy. He even considered that the woman in the car ahead of him might not be Susan. That the red head had somehow found a way to switch cars and was now on her way to Hutch. He looked down at the police radio and disregarded that idea. She'd always been in line of sight. If they had lost touch at any point, the cops would have let him know.
Soon it became apparent that she wasn't heading for Hutch's place, however. They were nearing the canyon, the place that Hutch had nearly lost his life when he was ambushed and sent spiraling down the embankment, his legs pinned beneath his car. He'd almost lost his partner that time.
Starsky stared ahead. The traffic was thinning, the night becoming darker as they reached the canyon. Now, he understood what was going on. She was checking to make sure she hadn't been tailed. She'd made it easy because she knew if someone had been following, she could easily detect them on the deserted road. Starsky had two choices: He could go back or he could continue to follow her. He decided on the latter, dousing his headlights. The black car and the night sky would almost make him invisible. But he was driving blind and hoping that the moonlight and the occasional street light didn't reveal his presence.
Five minutes later, they were still driving at a steady pace and nearing the tunnel. Starsky recalled Hutch driving through it and being forced off the road right after, so he was careful, images of her shooting at him with a rifle. He stretched both hands over the steering wheel and scanned the darkness ahead. He saw her red hair sailing in the breeze, the car moving quickly for its destination. And then it happened. She just stopped the car and sat there.
Now, thoughts crashed through his mind. Was she trying to kill herself? Wait for a truck or a car to crash into the back of her car. Or was she lying in wait, waiting to see what he would do. Of course, it was just possible that she still didn't know he was there and had only stopped to see if anyone would speed past her.
Starsky pulled over to the shoulder, grateful that the moonlight wasn't so bright as to reveal his presence. There was a large tree there that provided plenty of shade and he was overlooking a straight drop down the embankment. He shivered remembering Hutch down there, but his partner had crashed a few miles up. Still, the area looked the same.
He scanned the darkness; saw her still sitting in the car. She hadn't even tried to get out of her car to come back and investigate. They were sitting so close at this point that he felt like he could smell her perfume, see her golden eyes, but she hadn't turned around. And then out of the blue, the car was coming at him. She was backing up, going at least thirty miles an hour, tires squealing, and heading straight for him. It had been so sudden that he didn't have time to brace himself. Didn't have time to call out to God for help. Didn't have time to say goodbye to Hutch. He was spiraling down the embankment, the world turning at a dizzying speed. He felt the steering wheel slam into his stomach, pain radiating up his chest. He felt his head hit the front window. He saw the window pane break into a web and still he rolled. Over and over again, a seemingly bottomless pit and then the car stopped and the smell of gasoline filled the night air.
Starsky looked around him. It was nearly black, but the back of the car was illuminated in flames. He could feel the heat. Knew he was about to die. Both side doors were pushed in, seemingly incapable of opening. Images of Jenny's final moments crashed through his thoughts and he looked to the left side of the door and figured it offered him his best chance of escape.
He braced himself against the right side, pulling his legs up, agonizing pain shooting through him. He slammed his feet against the door, knew he'd pulled a muscle and tried again. The door didn't budge, so he slammed his feet over and over again until the door opened and he climbed out, sliding to the ground immediately. He was in agonizing pain and had given all he had to get out of the car. He had nothing left, but the flames of hell called out, licking its way across the car, toward him. It was going to explode and unless he moved out of the way, he was going to die.
Starsky pushed his way across the dirt, half crawling, but he was still too close to the car. He knew that he didn't have much time. And then he felt hands grab him, pulling him to his feet.
"Come on," a voice said.
They ran for cover, but he couldn't see who was helping him. He fell to the ground, felt the warm body covering him, shielding his body from the cataclysmic power of the explosion. The ground moved beneath him like the whole world was shaking. Then all quieted. He was alive, but who had saved him?
"How could you do this to me? How could you follow me like that?"
It was Susan. She'd saved his life and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.
"Why did you save me?"
"Because I love you, you idiot." She kneeled next to him, and fished out his gun, laying it too far away for him to reach.
"You got a funny way of showing it, Susan."
"I kept feeling like someone was following me, so I stopped my car and waited. Once I saw your black car, I just couldn't stop myself. I was so angry. I just wanted whoever was in that car to die. I didn't know it was you."
She sounded angry, but Starsky could see the fear in her eyes. She was actually worried about him. She moved closer, took his head and put it on her lap, gently carding her hand through his soft curls. He looked up at her.
"Was all of it a lie, David?"
Starsky didn't know how to answer that. He was too injured to fight. Didn't have a gun. And if she got angry, she would kill him and then Hutch. He decided to tell her a half-truth.
"I wanted to help you. I didn't want you to end up like Jenny."
She stiffened. "Then, you know?"
"Yes. Wanted to help you. I failed Jenny."
"But Jenny loved you. You didn't fail her."
"I should have gotten her help. Wanted to help you after I found out."
"About me being Medusa."
It was a statement. And she said it almost as if she were relieved to confess it.
"Yes. Kira…" he coughed, gasping for breath, Susan stroking his head. "The guy who shot at Hutch told her and she made a death bed confession?"
"You're a good cop. Most wouldn't have been able to figure it out." Suddenly, he noticed that she had softened her voice. She sounded innocent, like a little girl.
He grabbed her arm, but his grasp had no strength in it. "Let's go away together."
"I can't do that. I've got to kill Ken and you won't want me after that."
His heart skipped a beat. "You don't have to do this. I love you. He doesn't matter to me anymore."
"You've both seen my face."
"So you kill me and Hutch?"
Susan paused, the fire from the car softening the harshness of her makeup. "I don't want to have to do it, but I can't have you running around telling people who I am."
"Susan, you need help. Stay here. Let me help you."
She shook her head. "No. Too much is at stake. I can't…"
"But you don't have to do this."
Starsky felt her move and then looked up to see a tiny needle in her hand.
"Here," she said, pushing up his sleeve. Starsky tried to struggle, but the world tilted at a strange angle and he realized he didn't have the strength to fight her. He expected the needle would be painful, but it was hardly noticeable. Almost like a mosquito bite.
"What's in that?"
"Something that will keep you from following me. It won't kill you, but it will give me time to decide what to do about you. I might still have to kill you, but maybe I could just go away. Change my appearance. Make sure you couldn't recognize me if you saw me again. But Ken's got to die. I can't have two of you running around. I might have to go after that Bear guy too, but maybe not. He only saw me once and I can't go around killing the whole town."
Susan's eyes were wide, a complete disconnection with reality. She was obviously insane and he and Hutch were in big trouble.
"I love you," he said, hoping to get through to her. It was a lie, but he was willing to say anything if it meant saving Hutch. "Let me help you."
"You should have drunk the wine. It was much better than this place. You could have died if I hadn't risked my life to save you."
"I know. And I'm grateful. I know you love me, so let's go away together."
"We can't. You would never trust me. I would be like a cat that could turn on you any minute."
The effects of the drug started to kick in. It felt like a lead weight had descended on his body, draining his remaining strength, preventing him from moving. "What did you put in that needle?" he asked slowly.
"Just some tropical drug. It won't hurt you, but you won't be able to move for awhile. If I gave you more you would stop breathing."
"Susan, you've got to listen to me."
But she moved beneath him and sat his head gently on the ground. "I've got to go now." She stood and looked down at him. The smoking embers from the car cast her in a golden haze and he saw the madness in her eyes.
"Don't try and look for me. And I'm sorry about making your car go off the road."
She turned to go and he decided to try the lie one more time. "Susan, don't leave. I love you. We can go away together. Forget Hutch. Forget everything. Start all over again."
Susan turned, facing him. "But that can never be. It's too late for us now. Too late for Jenny."
He tried to get up, but his body was incapable of obeying his command. "Susan, don't do this. Don't kill Hutch."
Starsky was startled to see tears forming in her eyes. "But I must. I'm the Medusa, don't you see. And it's what I do." And then she turned and left him alone.
Starsky stood along the deserted road. He figured it had been at least an hour since he'd left his apartment to follow Susan. He'd spent some of that time unable to move, knowing that Hutch might already be dead. It had been one of the most terrifying moments of his life, but it had given him strength to do the impossible, to make his battered body move. The climb up the embankment had been treacherous, and several times he'd lost his footing and had sailed back down to the bottom. He'd started all over again, each time his strength waning, but at each step, he'd held on to the belief that his partner still lived. Now, he stared into the distance and the headlights coming his way. Salvation on wheels.
--
Susan ran her hand over the knife and watched the blond man's face. It had been so easy getting him ready. She remembered the horror on his face when he saw her, the way he just sat there. He'd understood that he had been drugged, but he would have been shocked to discover that it had been given in two doses. The coffee was meant only to make him sleepy, allowing her time to steal into the kitchen while he slept. She'd administered the curare on the tip of a special needle and had retreated from the room without him even noticing. She'd then waited for it to take effect before entering the kitchen again. It was truly a grand entrance and one she wasn't entirely sure would happen. If the blond had decided to forego the coffee, she would have just shot him and have done with it. This way was much better.
Susan had originally had enough of the drug to kill him. He would have lived for about twenty minutes, then his breathing would have stopped. That plan had been changed when she discovered that the man in the black car was David. He'd been following her. Had known who she was and had planned to have her locked up. But she hadn't know until it was too late. Susan had taken the detour through the canyon in order to throw off anyone who may be following her. She always took precautions like that because over confidence could get you killed. She'd stopped in the middle of the road when she thought she'd glimpsed something in her rearview mirror. And then she saw the black car enter the darkness of the trees. She'd gotten angry then, a simmering rage that sent her spiraling backwards into the black car. She'd been lucky that she hadn't fallen over as well, but she had been able to stop her car before that happened. She'd then gotten out and watched the black car as it was consumed by flames. Thankfully, she'd recognized David at the last minute.
Susan looked down at her shoes. They were worn for effect, but the real intention of her hooker outfit was to distract. Anyone who saw her would remember a woman heavily made up and nothing else. In fact, many wouldn't even look at her. They would have passed her on the streets because she was dirty in their eyes. It was truly one of her best disguises, and one that had served her well in the past.
Ken moaned. He was tied to the chair in the kitchen, so she didn't move. He still had his eyes closed, but that would change quickly enough. She wouldn't be disturbed either. She had taken care of all three cops who were watching the building. They never expected her to come in from the other building, but she was an expert climber, capable of moving like a circus performer. The red shoes made it a little tricky, but you couldn't expect everything to be perfect.
Susan held the knife to Ken's throat. She drew blood alone his neck and his eyes shot open. She stepped back, allowing the pleasure of having the blond seep in. "Great. You're finally awake. It's much more fun when you're awake."
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"Killing you."
She hated his icy coldness, the way he asked a question with no terror in his voice. Well, she would see to that. She would be damned if he didn't give her a show. She remembered the five men who'd seen her face. Now, that was fun down to the last one. The bag lady had been fun too, but she didn't have enough time to kill her aunt. Johnny had to do that. Well, she would make up for it now.
Susan put the knife to his throat again and watched him squirm. "I got you trussed up like the pig you are. You can't get away."
"You kill a cop and neither will you." He looked at her hard, his eyes unblinking.
"You think someone's going to stop me," she said mockingly. "Well, unless your piggy cops can rise from the grave you don't stand a chance in hell of getting out of this one."
She watched as his face registered surprise. "Yes, they are all dead. You see, the first little piggy squealed out the location of the other two once I showed him what I would cut off if he didn't tell me who else was watching. Of course, he's dead now. Then I climbed out the back window and made my way to that nice building across the street. You'd be surprised how men react when they see a naked lady walking through their door. I shot them both dead without them even putting up a fight. Not a lot of fun, but I wanted to get back to you."
"They're going to toss you in jail and throw away the key."
He was defiant. She hated defiant. She wanted to see fear. Watch him beg for his life. He was too calm and no fun at all. He didn't seem to care what she did to him. But she knew one thing that could change all that. "Oh, and I pushed David's car down an embankment. He's dead now."
And she was rewarded with watching the blond go completely white.
--
Starsky arrived to find the streets roped off and his partner's apartment surrounded by cops. Dobey stood in the center of the group, barking orders. Starsky had called the captain after a truck driver picked him up from the side of the road. He'd been lucky that the man had been on his way into Bay City. Once in the truck, he'd patched through a call on the drivers CB radio and alerted Dobey to his partner's plight. He'd asked that no one go in, but to wait for him to arrive.
Now, Starsky headed over to the captain. His body quivered under the intense pain he was in, but he sucked it up, steeled his face so the captain wouldn't know how bad off he was. He was fueled only by adrenalin and that wouldn't last long, but he knew his partner wouldn't stand a chance if anyone else walked in there. Susan was completely mad. As insane as Jenny had been.
Dobey's eyes perked up when he saw him. "Thank God. "Son, you alright?"
"Fine. Anything on Hutch?"
Dobey shook his head. "We got a SWAT team watching, but we can't see inside, so they're waiting for an opportunity."
"Need a gun," Starsky said.
"Why? You're not going in there."
"I'm the only one that can." Starsky stuck his hand out waiting for the gun.
"No."
"Hutch is in there."
Suddenly the world tilted and he pitched forward. Dobey grabbed his arm, steadying him. "You're not going anywhere but to a hospital. Have you seen yourself?"
"Got an idea of how I look from the truck driver. But I still got to go in there."
Dobey raised his voice. "I got three officers dead. I'm not adding a forth."
"Three?"
"Guy stationed in your building. And two across the street."
Starsky swallowed hard, stood straight, trying to look strong. "That's why I gotta be the one to go in there. Nobody else can."
"Let SWAT do it."
"They ain't gonna get a shot. She ain't that stupid. I gotta be the one to go in."
"You can't go in there, son. She'll kill you."
"And my life ain't worth a nickel if something happens to Hutch."
The two men stared at each other, Dobey's soft brown eyes showing just how much the decision was costing him.
"Go," he said softly, handing him his gun. "But you come back. Both of you. Ya hear?"
But Starsky was already making his way to the building.
Hutch sat quietly. He'd listened to how Susan described pushing his partner off the very embankment that had nearly taken his life two years ago. She'd described how the car exploded and how much she enjoyed listening to his screams as he burned like her sister had.
Now, he sat quietly, incapable of caring about anything. If Starsky was dead he was ready to join him.
"Say something, you stupid fool. I just killed your partner."
Still, he said nothing. If she wanted him to beg for his life, she was sadly mistaken. He didn't care about anything now.
She slapped his face hard and stood back. "You're sick, you know that. You sit there like a zombie. You don't give a shit about your own damn life." She put the knife against his throat, drew blood, then slammed her hand against his stomach and the chair toppled over. He lay on his side, unmoving as if nothing had happened. She kicked his stomach and then she kneeled next to him, pressing the gun to his skull.
"Maybe I should just blow your brains out. What do you think that feels like? Having your brains blown out."
She slammed her hand against his jaw, sending explosions through his head. She was small, but capable of throwing punches like a man.
"Let me tell you how he looked when he swallowed the fire. How he screamed."
"Go to hell," he spat.
"Oh, finally, we're talking." She sat back on her legs and smiled. "First his hair burned off. And then…"
But the rest was cut off because the door slammed open and Starsky stood there. Hutch released a breath and thanked God.
"I'll blow his brains out," Susan shouted, pressing the muzzle tight against his head.
Starsky walked in, sat his gun on the table. Hutch could see that he was injured, barely able to stand on his feet.
"Go back," Susan shouted. "Or I'll kill him now."
Hutch could feel her hands shaking.
"You saved my life. You saved it for a reason," Starsky said.
Hutch struggled with the ropes, cursing himself for not trying to get away earlier. But earlier he thought his partner was dead and he had no reason to live. But now, he needed to do everything in his power to escape because Starsky was walking right into the line of fire. Hutch didn't understand what Starsky meant about Susan saving his life, but he did know that she was mentally unbalanced.
"Just let me go," Hutch said. "You can…"
She slammed the gun against his head and he saw stars.
"Let me handle this, Hutch," Starsky said, locking eyes with him, then pulling them away to look at Susan. .
"Go back," Susan ordered, or I swear I'll shot him and then I'll kill you."
"No you won't. Because the woman that saved me from that burning car wouldn't kill me."
"I don't love you that much. I'll kill you both." She pushed the gun painfully to Hutch's head and he wondered if he would hear the gun fire or if it would just be a quick burst of pain and then nothing.
"I'll do it!"
"I love you, Jenny."
And Hutch felt the gun pull away from his head. He knew what Starsky was doing. He was bringing her back to her roots. Back to Jenny. And if she were unbalanced enough, she would believe it.
"Stop lying," her voice was suddenly low, pitiful. "Please stop lying."
"It's not too late. We can be together. Just you and me."
"But it is. I know that now. It's too late for us. Nothing can wash away the blood. All that blood."
"It's our second chance, Jenny. Our second chance. Don't lets spoil this."
Susan pointed the gun at Starsky, but his partner never stopped moving forward. He was walking directly into the line of fire, but he kept his voice level and very calm, almost as if he were talking to a possible suicide. Hutch only hoped that it would work and that she didn't kill the brunet.
"Forgive me, Jenny. Please forgive me. I couldn't help you then. Allow me to help you now. Don't do this thing."
Hutch could see the gun in her hand wavering, but it was still pointed at his partner
"I forgive you, David. It wasn't your fault."
"Give me the gun, Jenny. Let me help you this time. Please, let me do that for you."
The gun started shaking in her hand. "Oh, God, what have I become? What have they made of me?"
And then Starsky crouched down and took the gun from her hand.
--
Hutch found the diaries at the bottom of Susan's luggage. After they had been copied and processed by the police, Dobey had given a copy to Starsky. Now he read them as he lay in the hospital bed. It had been two weeks of recuperation from the concussion and the damaged to his body. In that time Susan had been hospitalized at San Leone Institute for the Criminally Insane. Pending an investigation by mental health workers, it would become her permanent home. She hadn't spoken since she'd been arrested. She was broken in mind and spirit. Starsky read the diary as the early morning light filtered in through his window and he read about the woman he'd once loved and the insanity that had claimed her life and that of her sister.
The first one was from Jenny. She wrote of the discovery of her half-sister, Susan. Susan had been raised by Jenny's aunt Clara. The woman had been paid by her brother to care for the girl after her mother died in a car accident. She had been instructed to keep the girl away from his family. He had made a mistake, having an affair with a servant, but he would never accept her as a full member of the family.
Jenny's first diary started when she'd been eight. She wrote about poverty and wishing she had pretty yellow dress. The next year she wrote about her father becoming rich beyond imagination. She was so excited to have everything she dreamed of.
Six years later, Jenny talked about discovering a sister. At that time she had been fourteen. She wrote:
I'm so excited. Last night I heard my parents arguing about my sister. Mom is worried that someone might find out, but dad said she would stay with her mother. He says the scandal could kill our social standing. I don't care. I'm just so happy to have a sister.
What followed was a nightmare. By the time little Susan was ten, she had lost her mother in a car accident. The little girl had no other family, and the father felt some responsibility toward her, so she was sent to live with his sister.
Jenny wrote: I'm so scared. Insanity runs in the family and auntie is quite mad.
On and on it went, with Jenny wrestling with herself. She loved her father, respected her mother, wanted the glory and money, but she felt some responsibility toward her baby sister. Finally she paid the little girl a visit. She wrote:
"She looks just like me. Especially the green-golden eyes. We're unmistakable sisters. I'm her big sister. It's my responsibility to take care of her."
But Jenny was battling her own demons.
"They locked me up because I'm hearing voices," she wrote. "I guess I'm crazy like auntie."
And then Starsky had picked up Susan's diary. There were only two, starting at age fourteen, but it chronicled her life of physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her aunt. Susan had lied, making her childhood seem much better. She didn't tell Starsky how the aunt beat her, or how she found solace in retreating into another person.
"Auntie hates me." She wrote in one.
And then the decent into hell began.
"When she calls me names, or beats me, I pretend that I'm not there. That I'm someone else. That I'm Jenny. But sometimes I'm people I make up."
Between the two diaries, Starsky fitted the pieces together. Susan was even more insane than her sister, an insanity made even worse by her abusive background. She became Jenny for strength. Eventually she lost the ability to know who she really was.
Jenny wrote: "She seems to be getting lost in me."
Susan wrote: Jenny makes me feel strong.
The next pages were filled with Jenny planning to get her sister out, but then she had been locked away, voices screaming in her head. Somehow she made her way to New York and entered Starsky's life.
Jenny wrote: "Today I met the man I will spend my life with."
The nurse brought breakfast, but Starsky didn't want any. Later he heard her enter with lunch. Still, he read on.
"I'm so afraid for Susan, but I dare not go back. They'll lock me up and then what help can I be to he?"
"I want to tell David, but I'm afraid he'll send me back."
"David promised to never leave me."
Then the writing became disjointed as her mind deteriorated.
"David's seeing another woman."
"The voices told me to be careful."
"I can't stop what's happening to me."
"I had to kill that girl because David wanted her."
"I want a normal life with David. I want my sister to live with us and have a family."
But that was never to be, because the voices were getting louder, more demanding. And Starsky had called her father.
Susan only wrote occasionally after her sister died. Two noteworthy entries told of the girl's feelings regarding the death and how much she hated Starsky for causing her sister's death, but in the end her feelings had changed. She realized how much her sister loved him.
"If only I can find someone to love me that way," Susan wrote.
Starsky read Susan's last diary entry: Last night I dreamed I was Jenny.
It was written one year after her sister's death; the same year she had taken the life of her first victim.
Starsky dissolved into tears, feeling the responsibility for so many deaths. What would have happened, if he hadn't called Jenny's father? What would have happened if he had married her and took Susan to live with them?
"Oh, God," he screamed, clutching his arms around his body, tears falling down his face. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and looked up into the blue depths of his partner's eyes.
--
Hutch walked into the room and saw his partner sitting up in bed, the crumpled paper in his hand. He was crying.
It had been a tough two weeks for the brunet. His injuries included three broken ribs, a broken clavicle and a minor concussion. He'd recovered physically, but guilt still marred his soul. He was blaming himself, feeling guilty for not hating Susan for what she'd done. But his partner was a compassionate man. A man who would forgive anything.
Hutch walked over and laid his hand on Starsky's shoulder and the brunet looked up.
"Starsk?"
Starsky wiped the tears from his face and smiled. "You're finally here. I wondered when you were gonna come and get me out of here."
Hutch sat a bag on Starsky's bed. It contained clothing for him to take the brunet home.
"Hope you brought everything, Blondie. Not like last time."
"Don't." Hutch said. "No secrets." He wasn't going to allow his partner to go through this alone. The brunet needed to talk and he needed to recover. Hutch sat down, taking his partner's hand.
Starsky hesitated, then he spoke, "Susan is completely insane and I could have done somethin' about it." And the story followed.
Hutch listened to what happened to Susan: the beatings by the aunt. The isolation. The escape into a world where she no longer existed. In this world she became other people, took on their personas, their lives. And somehow she had learned to kill.
"Not your fault," Hutch murmured, clutching his friends hand tightly. "They were sick: the aunt, Susan, Jenny. All victims of insanity."
"But Jenny could have helped? I could have helped."
"How?"
Starsky stared at him, "If she could have gotten to her sister. If I hadn't called her father."
"If, if…but you don't know that. Starsky, you've got to let go of this. Susan is going to get the help she needs. And it's because of you that she'll get it."
"Why didn't Jenny tell me?" Starsky murmured.
"Because she was afraid. I know something about that."
Starsky wiped his eyes, staring at him for a second, then speaking, "Was it that bad for you?"
"Remind me to tell you of my misspent youth one of these days."
The two men sat in silence, then Starsky spoke, "Hutch, I forgave her. She didn't know what she was doing. She couldn't help what she became. I know that now. You think I'm wrong, don't you?"
And Hutch recalled the time his partner forgave the man who'd killed Helen. He'd even risked his life trying to save the man. Now, he looked at the pain filled deep blue eyes, and saw the man who would forgive anything just because he had love in his heart and a soul that cried out for those in need. "It's what I love about you the most," he said. "Your ability to forgive."
They looked at each other, silently communicating what couldn't be said with words.
"No soapy scenes, Blondie."
Both men laughed.
"Now come on and get ready," Hutch said, coming to his feet. "Dobey gave us a week off. Then we're back on duty."
Starsky laughed. "Hey, maybe we can get a game of ping-pong in while they're painting the office. Think Dobey will complain?"
"Probably send us both packing."
Starsky stood up and opened the bag, taking out the shirt and pants. "Hutch, where's my underwear?"
"Whops."
"Whops. What whops. Hutch, you better not expect me to go out there…"
"Sorry, buddy."
Starsky sighed. Then his eyes lit up. "Don't worry about it, Blondie. I forgive ya."
Hutch looked at his friend, feeling an overwhelming sense of love. They'd visited hell once again and came back in one piece.
Six months later:
The middle-aged woman pushed the mop bucket down the hall. She was about fifty with graying hair and a plump figure. She'd been working all day so she was tired, looking forward to getting home and maybe picking up carry-out on the way.
But right now she had at least one more room to do. If she were lucky, it wouldn't take long. She would make a point of cleaning only the parts that were visible.
She opened the door to the office, pushing the mop bucket inside, and turning on the light. She got to work quickly, mopping the visible spots, dusting the entire room. Then she got out a can of Lysol spray and sanitized the area. She was curious so she opened a few file cabinets and took out a file. This she sat on the desk and put a match to it. She pushed the ashes into a wastebasket and took a deep breath, inhaling the wonderful burning scent.
She was sweating now and desperate to put something in her sizable stomach. Her stomach growled loudly as she made her way to the door. She turned once she reached it, looking at the man, still leaning over his notes. She'd done a good job of cleaning up. She didn't even need help.
Closing the door, she put a spring in her step and walked down the deserted hall. At the end of it, stood a large man with bulging biceps and a gun over his left hip. She spoke to him, showing her badge. But he didn't look at it, just motioned her through. She didn't bother to move the mop bucket. Nothing went beyond the gate, not even soapy bloody water.
"Goodnight," she called out, but he didn't answer. She was merely a cleaning lady to him, inconsequential in the whole scheme of things. Few looked at those who cleaned mental institutions for a living. But if he had, he may have noticed the smooth unlined face, the obvious grey wig, and the spectacular green eyes. And if he saw her in fifteen minutes, he would have been struck by her cascading red hair. Of course, in fifteen minuets the man would probably head to the office she just left. If he did, he would see a clean room and a very dead Dr. Melford. If he checked further, he would go to the utility room and find a plump woman, her head still covered with the wig cap, blood seeping through. He wouldn't find prints, however, no one ever did, because she was never there.
Fin
Authors Notes:
The character of Kira was in the episode Starsky Vs. Hutch.
The characters of Dr. Melford and Helen were in the episode titled Lady Blue.
Curare is a real South American plant used to induce paralysis.
The original characters of Susan, Jenny and Johnny are wholly my creation; Starsky and Hutch are unfortunately not.