Chapter 13

Captain Dobey walked by the side of the gurney into the entrance to Memorial Hospital's ER. Flat on his back, with his eyes closed and his face pale beneath the blazing bright neon lights, Hutch looked vulnerable and younger than his 35 years and as the medics whisked him away into one of the side rooms, the black man paused. He looked around, only too aware of the countless times he'd been here waiting for either Hutch or Starsky or one of the countless other men under his command to respond to treatment.

Feeling exhausted and lost now that Hutch was at the hospital and Sue was in custody and the initial emergency had passed, the black man staggered over to a waiting area sat down and put his head in his hands. Looking down, he snorted at the swelling surrounding his right ankle. He'd not noticed the injury during the thick of things, but now he felt the dull ache in the joint and realised he ought to get some sort of treatment himself. Dobey looked up as a second ambulance drew up and Kiko emerged, holding a blood stained wad of cotton gauze to his face. The young man nodded at Dobey before he was directed through to a small curtained cubicle.

'Sir? Are you ok?'

Dobey looked up to see a young nurse looking down at him with a concerned look on her face.

'Yeah…no….yeah, I'm fine. I just came in with….I need to…..damn.' Taking a deep breath, the Captain collected his thoughts. 'I'm a cop. I brought one of my men in here. I need to see how he is' Dobey forced himself to stand and wobbled as he got to his feet, an involuntary hiss escaping him as he put weight onto his injured ankle.

'I should take a look at that first' the nurse said, smiling encouragingly.

'It's fine. I need to….'

'You need to come with me. If your man is being treated there won't be any news for a little while. Let me see to your ankle.'

Reluctantly, Dobey shuffled himself into the wheelchair that the nurse brought for him and allowed himself to be wheeled into the cubicle next to Kiko's. He could hear the doctor there telling the young man that his nose was most definitely broken but that he didn't think he needed an operation to reset it. There was a silence, an audible crack accompanied by a yelp and then the doctor's voice telling Kiko that he'd done very well.

Meanwhile, the nurse had removed Dobey's shoe and sock and was pressing gently at the puffy, discoloured skin. 'I don't think anything's broken' she said. 'But you're going to be sore tomorrow. Look at you! Did you fall down the stairs or something?'

The black man sorted softly. 'That's about the size of it' he agreed ruefully looking at the bruises dappling his right arm and his right knee. Jeez! He'd never realised just how much he'd hurt himself, his entire being focused on stopping Sue from getting away. Dobey snickered to himself. Give it up Harold, you're getting far too old for the rough stuff. The spirit is willing but the flesh just don't cut it any more!

The nurse finished circling his ankle with a supporting bandage and asked if he needed a crutch to help him walk. At that precise moment, Dobey felt like he'd need a truck to move him, but a crutch was one step too far and he shook his head gently, getting up from the small examination table and testing his ankle gently. It was sore for sure, but he thought he could handle it.

'Can I go see my man now?' he asked.

'Let me go find out where they've taken him' the nurse nodded. As she started to draw the curtains from round the cubicle, however, Dobey could hear a man's voice shouting for the family of Ken Hutchinson. He hobbled into the corridor.

'That's me. I came in with him' he said. 'Is he ok? Can I see him?'

The doctor smiled briefly and directed the Captain into a small side room. 'What's been happening with Ken?' he asked

'In what way? What's wrong?'

'We examined him for symptoms in accordance with his being asphyxiated, however, while we're treating that, we found some other symptoms that aren't connected and that we find suspicious.'

Dobey's face fell. 'Like what?' he asked.

'Well there's evidence of sudden weight loss but also signs that he's been poisoned.'

'Poisoned! What the hell….'

'His pupils are sluggish, he has general muscle weakness and loss of tone and his breathing has been compromised. Do you know anything about this?'

'No, nothing. He was told his partner had died a week ago and he was grieving for him, but….'

'Do you think he would do anything…..um….out of character?' the doctor asked gently.

'Hutch? Yeah, I thought about it. They were close, him an' Starsky. But if he'd wanted to, he'd have taken the direct route and blown his brains out. I took his weapon just in case. But he wouldn't do anything like poisoning himself.'

'Are you sure?'

'One hundred percent.'

'Then can you think how?'

The black man's face registered anger, his face taking on a darker hue. 'Yeah, I can think of how. I thought she'd tried to murder him today, but it seems like his girlfriend's been trying the subtler route for a while. What can you do?'

The doctor stood up. 'Without knowing what kind of poison it is, we can't administer an anti toxin, but I'd like to pump his stomach to make sure anything still there will be eliminated.'

'Damn! He's been through so much. But if that's what ya have to do…. Can I be with him?'

'Sure. It isn't pretty, but once we've got rid of anything bad in his body, we can start to heal him and sometimes the results can be pretty miraculous.'

The two men walked into the Emergency room and Dobey went to Hutch's side. The cop looked even worse if anything. His breathing difficulties had prompted the medics to insert a tube into his throat to keep his airways open and now the doctor was giving instructions for the stomach pumping.

Gently the nursing staff turned Hutch over so that he lay on his left side, with the head of the gurney lowered. As Dobey winced in sympathy a lubricated stomach tube was gently inserted through the blond cop's mouth, into his oesophagus, and down to his stomach. Thankfully, Hutch was still completely out of it and registered no discomfort, but still, the procedure left Dobey with the uncontrollable urge to gag for his friend.

As the doctor started the process, the contents of Hutch's stomach were suctioned out through the tube to be replaced by lukewarm water. They repeated the process countless times until the fluids that come out of the stomach were clear and once he'd satisfied himself, the doctor gently withdrew the tube, leaving the breathing tube in place. Hutch was left on his left side, but one of the nurses placed a pillow under his head and gently smoothed away the sweat soaked golden bangs from his forehead.

'Is that it?' Dobey asked from the side of the room.

The doctor nodded. 'Once his breathing is better, I'll remove the breathing tube and then we'll take him up to a room soon. That's all we can do for the moment. The nursing staff will monitor his vitals. But other than that, this is just a waiting game.'

Dobey grunted. 'A waiting game huh? Just what I enjoy! Thanks Doc. If it's ok, I'll wait with him for a while?'

'Sure. He may be able to hear you and I think he could use a friendly voice. Go right ahead.' As the staff set about cleaning up the room, Dobey snagged a chair and brought it up to the gurney, positioning himself where Hutch could see him if he awoke, and then he settled down to wait.

OOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The noise of the two men running away down the corridor died away into the distance, leaving the building quiet as the grave. Starsky's body lay where it had fallen, sprawled like a broken doll on the ground, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth to form a small pool on the bare concrete ground.

For an age, there was complete silence. The brunet's breathing was so shallow that it couldn't be heard. No birds sung in this part of town. It was desolate; as desolate as the surface of the moon; as desolate as if an atomic bomb had gone off and killed every living thing. The sun continued its path across the sky, shining pure golden beams through the mean window to cast light on the cop's body and deepen the dark shadows down the corridor.

But slowly, one of the shadows started to move of its own accord. As the sun started to dip below the horizon, the girl emerged from her hiding place and cautiously approached the body on the ground.

Danielle Mutter was 10 years old. Dressed in denim dungarees with a blue tee shirt underneath them, she stood no more than 4' tall. This was her hiding place – her secret place and despite her Mom's strict instructions that she not play there, like any other kid faced with a whole block of empty apartments, the lure of them was too much.

She was a streetwise kid. When her Dad had "gone on vacation" a year or so ago, her Mom had taken on a second job in order to keep them in the apartment she'd grown up in. Now with the added pressures, Mrs Mutter had little time to devote to her only child and so Danielle was left to her own devices more and more.

She came to the disused block most days after school. Some days, she skipped school completely. She hated it, feeling that the teachers didn't like her and the other kids picked on her because her Daddy wasn't living at home. One of them had even said that he was in jail, but Danny knew that was a lie and had immediately retaliated in the only way she knew how – with her fists. As a result, she'd been suspended from school and a note had been sent home to her Mom. Danny had snickered to herself as she'd posted the note down the nearest drain. What her Mom didn't know wouldn't hurt her. So when she'd not got ready for school the next day, she told her Mom that the school had a holiday and that she'd be fine in the house on her own. Her Mom had been too harassed to argue and she'd kissed Danny on the head absently and with instructions to stay inside and not answer the door to strangers, had gone to work.

Of course, Danny had waited a half an hour to make sure her Mom didn't return and then had let herself out of the house and had hotfooted it down to the apartment block. There, she'd watched in mounting horror as the two big nasty men had been mean to the other man and had then run away.

Now, Danny crept out of her hiding place and peered around the open door of the room. The man was still there and he wasn't making any noise. Neither was he moving and for a moment she wondered if he was dead. Very cautiously, the little girl walked into the room, ready to run at a minute's notice. As she got closer, she could see that the man had pretty curly hair, like hers and that his face was cut and bruised. His mouth looked swollen and carefully, she knelt down by his side, watching.

Starsky remained still. He was semiconscious and had no idea that he was no longer alone. He was still dreaming of Hutch when he felt something on his shoulder and for a moment, his pain befuddled mind told him that the two heavies were back again. There was no way he could stand any more pain, he knew that and thought that maybe, if he remained still, feigning unconsciousness, he could somehow put off any further rough treatment.

Again, the pressure on his shoulder returned, but something about it felt different. Usually, Mutt and Jeff's attacks started with them hauling him to his feet just so that they could knock him down again. This was different. This time, the pressure was gentle and there was a tiny voice sounding in the distance. He listened to it, focusing on the sound and gradually he could make out the words.

'Mister? Hey mister. Are ya asleep?'

It was a child's voice and the mystery caused Starsky to stir, finally forcing him to open his one good eye. Bracing himself in case it was some kind of trick, he cracked open his right eye and blinked at the vision in front of him.

Haloed by the fast fading sunlight, a small girl sat in front of him, her face surrounded by a golden glow. So this was it. He was on his way at last although he'd never expected an angel to come for him. With a contented sigh that this was finally over, the brunet surrendered himself to the guidance of the heavenly vision.

'M'ready' he managed to mumble through his smashed jaw as he closed his eye one last time.