Chapter 9

They left Starsky alone for protracted periods of time now, although they left the water there in the room with him, to tempt him and to add more discomfort to his already miserable existence. After Sue had left him alone with the two heavies, they'd taken delight in once again using him as a human punchbag until he'd collapsed, unconscious to the floor. He was revived when he felt one of them hold his head in a vice like grip while the other poured the tainted water down his throat. He'd tried to spit it back out, but they once again pinched his nose and held his mouth shut until he had no option but to swallow. And then the pains in his gut had started in earnest.

They'd left the brunet unbound. There was really no need to restrain him any more. With his left collarbone and forearm broken and with the open smear of the burn across his right hand, he could barely hold a cup…. or a door handle. He was too injured to try to escape any more. Starsky's condition had deteriorated so that he was barely able to sit propped up against the wall of his prison. Bruises dappled his chest, back and limbs so that there were only small patches of olive toned flesh remaining in their normal colour. The brunet's left arm was swollen and black, the shoulder markedly deformed and he held his head to the left to try to ease the bone crushing pains from it.

Starsky's stomach too was a cause for concern. He hadn't been out of the room in days – ever since Sue had kidnapped him, but in order to allow him to relieve himself, they'd been kind enough to provide a plastic pail which the emptied once per day. After the initial brutal beating, when they'd caught the brunet with a vicious kick between his legs, he'd seen blood in his urine. At first, Starsky thought it was maybe trauma from the blow, but now, with the pains in his back making him groan and writhe on the ground, he felt that the blood indicated something more serious, maybe a bruised kidney, or an infection. Whatever it signified, the curly haired cop knew it hurt like hell and that he needed treatment.

Thirst argued with him over whether it was worse to have the dry rasping feeling in his mouth and throat, or whether he should drink from the water and suffer the pains that roiled around his guts and threatened to have him throwing up on the floor. The thoughts of the cool water trickling down the back of his sandpaper lined throat was almost too much to bear and twice now he'd reached for the cup, withdrawing his hand at the last moment as he thought about the poison that was working insidiously in his body.

Starsky's vision was also beginning to fade now and he was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe, to co-ordinate his body and to think. He didn't know whether those were the effects of the poison in the water or whether he was suffering from the after effects of the beatings he'd endured. Blood crusted the side of his face and his left eye had swollen shut some time ago so that his depth perception was faulty. He felt nauseous, exhausted. The only thing keeping him going at the moment was the burning desire to get out and to get back to Hutch.

Sue had taken great delight in explaining to him in detail how much his blond partner was suffering. Starsky couldn't bear the thought that the big flaxen haired cop thought he was dead. And it wasn't just his partner he worried about. From what Sue had said, everyone else, including his family thought he'd perished in the fire too. Thinking about how his Mom would take the news brought a lump to the brunet's throat. She'd always been so proud of the fact that he'd been first a soldier and then after that had followed his Dad's footsteps into the police force. Rachel Starsky had had the simplistic view that maybe the Californian police would have a slightly easier job than the men in New York had, and she'd at first harboured an idea that her eldest son would be safer in the south. Over the years, the tough little woman had come to realise that, if anything, her Davey was more at risk in Bay City and sometimes, when the telephone rang late at night, she'd brace herself for the bad news that would surely follow.

Starsky wondered how she'd taken the news and tried not to think about her packing her black outfit and booking her ticket for the journey down to LAX. By the sounds of it, Hutch wouldn't be there to meet her this time. By the sounds of it, Sue was going to make damned sure that Hutch wasn't around to do anything.

Starsky tried to shift himself a little against the wall. It hurt – badly and he rested his head back with a sigh, looking heavenward. The cup of water taunted him, the innocent looking drink beckoning to him. He was so thirsty. So damned thirsty that finally he reached out for the cup and put it to his lips. Taking a deep breath he drank deeply, not stopping until there was nothing left. Fatalistically he put down the cup and waited. Maybe if everyone thought he was dead, he should just go ahead and do it. Maybe he should just drink his fill and be hanged with it. Maybe this was how it was meant to be.

As the pains started in his stomach again, sending flames roiling through his guts, Starsky groaned loudly and clutched with his right hand at his stomach. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he panted through the pain.

Dimly he thought about Hutch, and how the comforting presence of the blond had always helped him before when he'd been sick, injured or frightened. Without realising he was doing it, he started to call weakly for his partner, his voice raw and husky with pain.

'Utch…..help me. Please. Just….I'm ready. Don't wanna die, but it's too much. I'm ready. Hutch….come get me huh? Please buddy? Hutch?'

Whether it was through weakening, or whether it was because the poison had a cumulative effect he didn't know, but the pains were worse now. Much worse and despite his resolve to keep quiet and just live through this, eventually he could take the agony no longer and he threw his head back and screamed into the silence until his throat was raw and he'd collapsed sideways to lie convulsing on the floor.

Outside the door, Mutt and Jeff heard the scream and grinned. Mutt looked through the peephole into the room and as he saw the brunet topple sideways, he opened the door and silently refilled the glass. Why waste any more energy when the chemicals would do their work for them?

OOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

In another part of the city, Hutch lay panting through pains of his own on his own bed. Several times during the night he'd had to get up to go to the bathroom, feeling sick and dizzy. He'd thrown up so violently that eventually all he managed to get rid of was blood tainted froth and the pains in his stomach and head did nothing to persuade him that this was nothing more than grief.

Sue was by his side the whole time, running a cool sponge over his forehead, crooning comfort words to him and holding out cups of the herbal teas for him to sip. She encouraged him to drink plenty, she said it was so that the toxins would be flushed from his system. The tea had a pleasant warming taste of aniseed and fennel and it quenched his thirst nicely while the Valium left him feeling dry and spacey.

Towards morning, as he barely managed to get himself back to the bed, he collapsed onto his pillow and clutched at his stomach.

'Somethin's wrong honey' he gasped, bringing his knees up to try to relieve the pressure on his stomach. 'I don't fffeel good.'

Sue rested her hand on his shoulder and looked into his pained eyes. The almost week of not eating was beginning to tell on the blond's body and his ribs were beginning to stand out as his chest heaved for each breath.

'S'ok Ken. You're fine. It's just the reaction to the shock. Try to rest honey' Sue said gently.

Hutch rolled his head on the pillow. 'It's more'n that. It's like….God I felt like this once bbbbefore. Stupid bet I had with Ssssstarsk. I said I could hide from him an' then I ate some contaminated soup. Hurts Sue…..Jeez, this hurts.'

Sue smiled sadly. 'I know it does honey. But it'll be over soon. The hurting will go away, I promise. And I'll be with you all the way. I won't leave you to suffer alone. I'll be right here with you.'

The blond groaned again as another wave of pain washed over him and he buried his head into the woman's lap as she gently brushed her fingers through his dull, lifeless hair.

'I love you' he whispered. 'Don't know what I'd do without ya.'

Above him, Sue smiled to herself. Her plan was going so beautifully. With the curly haired one safely kept away and she hoped fatally injured, she could concentrate on killing Hutch with her kindness. Soon, the revenge would be complete.

Eventually, after another dose of the tranquillising pills, Hutch managed to drift into a troubled sleep. The dream was back with him again, although there were subtle differences now. Starsky was still ahead of him in the surf as the waves crashed onto the beach behind him. Each time the brunet reached out to him, Hutch would try to struggle through the turbulent water towards his partner while Starsky was carried further out to sea.

'Hutch….come get me Hutch' the terrified voice sounded in his ears time and again as the big blond tried to force his arms and legs to swim towards him. All the time, the body of his friends kept going further away, but this time, Hutch could feel himself starting to follow. Although he never truly caught up with the curly haired man, he could feel his own body being sucked out to sea too and he was torn between striking out for the shore and following his buddy out into the wild blue yonder.

Hutch tossed and turned on his pillow through the rest of the early morning and about 10:00am, Sue got herself dressed and got ready to go out. She had a couple of errands she had to do, the main one being to go down to the Chinese herbalists she usually used to buy more of the herbs she used to spike the herbal tea with. The herbalist had been very careful to tell her how toxic they were if used in large quantities, but the woman had assured him that she knew what she was doing. Which was no lie. Sue knew exactly how much of the stuff could be used to effect a slow and intensely painful death.

As she brewed the tea and left another cup of it on the bedside table for Hutch to find, she checked on the sleeping blond. It seemed almost wrong to kill him like this. He looked so innocent and alone on the bed with the sweat pebbling his forehead and pooling in the hollow of his neck. But in the revenge game, it didn't serve to have higher feelings and so she took a grasp of herself and silently walked out of the bedroom, closing the door to the apartment behind her.

An hour or so later, Hutch awoke. As he opened his eyes he groaned again at the heavy lead weight still present in his stomach. For the moment, he had little pain, but he had a raging thirst and automatically he looked around and saw the cup Sue had left for him. With a sigh, he managed to sit up in his bed and reach for the cup. What had he done to deserve such a fantastic woman as Sue? She anticipated his every need and although she could never replace Starsky in the blond' life, Hutch felt that life may be just about bearable with his girlfriend around.

Drinking the cool tea brought on the pains again, and the flaxen haired man looked around desperately for the pain meds he usually kept in his bedside drawer. Finding none in there, Hutch dragged himself out of the bed and stood swaying for a moment as he got his balance. He staggered out of the bedroom and into the living room, but couldn't quite make it to the kitchen. His legs were like rubber and each time he moved his eyes, the room swam around him. Sinking down onto the sofa, he buried his head in his hands. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, dammit, even his eyelids hurt and he desperately wanted something to make the hurting stop. It had been getting increasingly worse for days and he had the thought to ring the doctor to try to get a visit.

As he tried to stand, however, another wave of dizziness took him and shook him so that he fell back onto the sofa, his hand coming to rest on Sue's purse. It was unusual that she hadn't taken it with her, but maybe all she needed was her money. Hoping that he might find a couple of aspirin in the depths he started to rummage through the contents of the bag, knowing that Sue, like all the other women he'd ever met kept everything plus the kitchen sink in there. His hand fumbled through the contents, rejecting powder compact, mirror, spare keys and a lipstick before his fingers closed on something round and hard. The object had the cold feel of metal and had a hole at its centre and as he pulled it out to examine it, his eyes widened in shock.

Lying in his hand, precious as life itself, was the Chinese coin that Starsky always wore around his neck! What the hell was Sue doing with it in her bag?