Chapter 14

Hutch looked up at the surrounding ring of uniformed officers, the youngest of whom was now staring white faced at the dead man at his feet.

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry' he whispered over and again.

Hutch ignored him, not trusting himself to speak. With Prudholm dead his last chance to find Starsky was dead. What could he do now? One of the older officers bent down by his side and put a hand round Hutch's shoulder.

'He didn't know Hutch. He thought Prudholm was gonna shoot you'.

Hutch stared at the dead man. 'I almost wish he had' he said softly. 'He was my last hope. He knew where Starsky was. Now I have no clue where to start. What the fuck made him shoot?' he said it quietly almost to himself. He knew the young officer had shot with the best of intentions and he couldn't bring himself to lose his head with the young man, but the despair was raw in his voice.

'I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time' he muttered and suddenly he was transported far away in time and place

A dark rooftop, stars shining above and the scene illuminated by a bright moon. He'd thrown himself out onto the rooftop in search of Vic Bellamy, launching himself out from the door and behind one of the air conditioning units as Bellamy pointed his gun, letting off several shots. Then, like now, he was in search of answers, that time answers to the composition of the poison ravaging his partner's body and Bellamy was the only one who he thought would know.

The big man had shed his phoney leg cast and had hot footed it up onto the roof and now Hutch was sprawling on the hard rooftop dodging bullets; He'd chased Bellamy around the roof, narrowly escaping the hot lead several times, but now he was cornered, out of options with his cover gone. Bellamy was bearing down on him, gun levelled at his head and he'd closed his eyes, not wishing to see the shot that would take him out. He'd flinched as he heard the discharge of the weapon and braced himself for the feel of the hot slug tearing through his flesh, but it never came. Instead, it was Bellamy who dropped to the ground, dead before his body hit and Hutch had rushed to him, flipping him over onto his back and pulling him up by the jacket. But he was too late and Bellamy had breathed his last breath. He let the body down gently and turned to see his sweat soaked partner leaning precariously against the lintel of the rooftop door.

Rushing over to the smaller man, he'd taken Starsky in his arms. 'What did ya have to do that for?' he asked as Starsky gasped against his body. Slowly the brunet's pain filled eyes had opened and tried to focus on him as the ghost of a smile flashed across the handsome face.

'Seemed like a good idea at the time' the curly haired cop had murmured before he collapsed unconscious and slid down the wall to crumple at Hutch's feet.

Hutch shook himself from his dark thoughts.

'I know he didn't mean to, just get him away from me. I can't talk to him right now Alan' he said to the older cop. The man stood and signalled for the circle of black uniforms to move away and give the blond some space.

Painfully, Hutch pulled himself together. Was there anything to be salvaged from this mess? He ran his fingers through his hair and scrubbed at his scalp. C'mon Hutchinson think!

'Someone search his car' he asked looking at Alan again. 'Maybe there's something in there that can help. Anything, but for Gods sake don't disturb anything. Ok?'

'Sure thing Hutch' Alan nodded and started to give orders to the others as Hutch looked back at Prudholm. There wasn't much to search on the man. He still wore the regulation blue coveralls that Cabrillo inflicted on their residents, although now he'd added a warmer blue jacket and this Hutch now started to search with trembling fingers.

He patted down the still warm body, running his hands down Prudholm's legs. He inserted a finger into the dead man's shoes, questing for something; anything. The breast pocket of the coveralls yielded a gum wrapper and a stick of gum along with a part used packet of cigarettes and a spent match. Another pocket at the waist of the coveralls held a dirty grey rag.

Hutch moved onto the jacket and added a quarter, two cents and a safety pin to his haul from one pocket. He inserted his hand into the left hand pocket and brought out a dollar bill and another scrap of paper. He was about to toss it onto the ground with the small pile of other belongings when he saw spidery writing scrawled across it. He smoothed the wrinkled paper out and held it up to the light. It showed a number which looked like a telephone number, but one of the digits at the end was partly obscured.

Hutch stood up. 'Hey Al. What d'ya make of this?' he called.

The officer walked over and took the paper from Hutch' hand bending over to get a better light on it. 'I dunno. Looks like 585-985…..The last number is torn off. I can't make it out'.

'No me neither. I guess I'll have to take it back to the Metro, use the phone to trawl through the possibilities' Hutch said. He hated to waste more time, especially when this could be a wild goose chase. But Alan put a hand on his arm.

'Hold on. I think the kid may well come into his own'. He waved the young officer over and the dark haired boy approached reluctantly. 'Jay, show Hutch your new toy. Ya think you can help?'

Jays face cracked into a shy smile. 'Ya think? I'm so sorry Detective Hutchinson. I thought he was gonna…. ' he tailed off and motioned Hutch to follow him back to the police car. Hutch followed reluctantly but his eyes opened wide when the young man showed him the big black box nestling on the back seat.

'It's a Motorola DynaTAC 8000X It's a brand new invention – a moble phone. They only released it this year. I blew my savings on buying it'.

Hutch looked at the contraption, the battery was as big as a car battery, but the handset was smaller than a normal one, white, with an arial sticking out of the end. 'You can use it like a regular phone?' he asked.

'Sure thing, so long as I can get a signal' Jay said proudly and switched the contraption on. He waited, wiggling the receiver through 360 degrees before smiling in satisfaction. 'Dial here and use it like normal' he said, handing the handset to the blond. Hutch took it in wonderment.

'Thanks kid' he murmured as he took out the scrap of paper and started to dial.

For the next 15 minutes, the blond dialled 585-985 – 1,2,3,4,5 and 6 with no luck. Those numbers belonged to people who seemed to be law abiding citizens, or at least people who Hutch didn't know. The two did not always equate. Hutch was getting desperate and sighed as he dialed again, the novelty of the new device waning now. He punched the small buttons

585-9857 and gazed at the sky as he heard the number connect and the ring tone start. The phone rang three, four, five times before a rasping and familiar voice answered

'Hello' Mickey said into the phone.

Hutch froze. Mickey the snitch! He was sure it was. He'd recognize that wheezing halting speech anywhere! He hit the disconnect button and handed the device back to the young officer.

'Nice going kid. You might just have bought my partner some more time. Ya wanna come see if we can find my snitch Mickey?'

Jay looked at Hutch, then at his partner Alan and back at Hutch. 'No, I…erm…I can't….I….well, I just hope you find Starsky. He sounds like one hell of a guy'

The blond suppressed an urge to ruffle Jay's dark hair and walked away. God was he ever so young? It seemed like a lifetime ago that he joined the force fresh from the academy. He made his way back to the car and got in.

That little weasel Mickey. He was easier to find than most, but he wanted to find him and follow him, not take him in there and then. Slimy as the little snitch was, he could keep his mouth shut with the best of them. No, he needed to find him and follow him. Mickey would lead him to Starsky.

oOo

Mickey waited for Prudholm to return. He'd had a long discussion with him about what he should do to get the money from Hutch. It had been hard. Towards the end the older man found it almost impossible to differentiate between Starsky and Gary and the brunet captive had not helped matters towards the end. Starsky had taken to calling Prudholm Papa just to get his next fix, further fueling George's delusions.

Mickey waited on the corner of the block waiting for Prudholm to come back and give him the money. He never for one minute doubted that Hutch would find the money. And once George had handed it over, Mickey would slice some more of it off for his own recreational uses.

But Prudholm wasn't showing and Mickey wondered whether he'd been double crossed. He glanced at his watch. They should have met up an hour ago. It was taking too long and he needed to find his own supplier otherwise his name would be mud.

The little man snook around the corner of the building and pulled his collar up higher around his neck. He set off in his quick little gait across the street, back towards his own patch. Snowy White was his supplier and he needed to get back to Snowy pretty quickly if he was going to get his muck.

As he walked he constantly looked over his shoulder, scared he would be followed or that one of the other snitches whose patch he was walking through might take offence and deliver a little retribution. He sighed as he made it to familiar territory and relaxed, rushing down his familiar alleyways to his usual spot by the telephone kiosk on the corner. Happy to be back in his own neighborhood, he didn't notice the red Mustang parked quietly on the corner, nor the blond who was hunkered down behind the wheel.

But Hutch saw Mickey and he smiled grimly, looking at his watch.

C'mon Mickey. Do what you have to do, then lead me to my partner.

For the next half hour, Hutch watched as a succession of men greeted Mickey, dealt and walked on and finally at 7:00ish, Mickey took one more look around and set off from his corner. Hutch let the little man get around the corner before switching on the car engine and following at a discrete distance as Mickey wound his way through the streets.

Hutch's heart was in his mouth, the beats hammering in his chest as he tasted success. He was getting closer to Starsky he knew, but would the brunet be ok when he found him? He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, impatient now to get to his friend, get him home and get things back to normal.

The blond was more than a little surprised when he saw the little man duck into the cemetery and make his cautious way through the headstones. Hutch waited at the gates, not wanting to bring any undue attention to himself before easing the car through the narrow pathways and down the hill. It was growing dark now and Hutch had difficulty making out where Mickey was going. Using his headlights would only alert the snitch to his presence and so it was with horror that he saw Mickey pause by one of the larger stone crypts and push open the door.

He stopped the car a little way up the hill and got out. Drawing his gun, he got out and made his way down the hill and paused at the door of the crypt before pushing the door open.

The stench of ammonia from the interior knocked him sick and he gagged at the smell, reaching for his handkerchief to put over his nose. His eyes adjusted to the absence of light in the crypt and he peered into the gloom seeing Mickey holding a syringe and preparing to inject the contents into the bound arm of his partner.

NB. The Motorola DynaTAC came into commercial use in the USA in 1983