Chapter 15

Captain Dobey sighed. It had been a long night and he was not good at the waiting game. He was a doer, not a thinker and that's why he'd taken such a shine to the two cops that now occupied his mind. While he liked Hutch's outward calmness and thorough approach to the job, he couldn't help but see something of himself in Dave Starsky. The young Harold Dobey had been just as cocksure of himself as the curly haired cop and had been just as quick to march into a situation rather than wait for a whole bunch of ideas to be thought of and then rejected. When Starsky had come to the precinct and had been ridiculed by some of the other more seasoned cops, Dobey had taken him under his wing, seeing promise in the young curly haired detective. When he'd taken the huge gamble of putting the two newbies together, he had to spend a lot of time justifying his actions to the powers that be, but he'd been rewarded over the years by the duo's tenacity, drive, arrest rate and loyalty to their Captain. Even if occasionally that loyalty was heavily disguised behind jokes, banter and the odd, hot-headed exchange.

The black man watched over Hutch until the early hours of the morning. Nurses and doctors arrived at the room periodically to check on the blond cop's vitals, adding drugs to his drip or gently inserting a thermometer under his tongue. For the most part, Hutch tolerated their ministrations well and remained asleep. He rested quietly, sleeping the sleep of the dead – or the sleep of someone who'd come very, very close to that state. Occasionally, a dream or a nightmare would shake him and he cry out huskily. Always the same cry and always for the same person. 'Starsk…..Starsky.'

As the first hints of the sun hit the window of the small private room, the doctor came back again and made a more thorough examination. The breathing tube had been taken out very early on in the night and now the medic was busy checking lymph nodes, muscle tone, reflexes and blood pressure. He made the usual non committal "hmms" and "ahhhs" that doctors seem to be taught at medical school, checking the whole of the blond's body. Dobey winced at how fragile it looked, led on the bed. Hutch had lost a lot of weight in one week and ribs were beginning to show through his skin, while his usually washboard abdomen seemed sunken. Finally the medic finished his assessment and stood up, turning his attention to the Captain.

'Well?' Dobey asked 'is he gonna be ok?'

The doctor smiled. 'He's a very fortunate man. Yes, I think he stands to make a full physical recovery. There was little trauma to his airways from the asphyxiation attempt and the poison that was being given to him was not a fast acting one. If he'd been given the same stuff for another couple of weeks, this would have been a different story. As it is, Ken would have suffered cramps, pains in his back and legs, and headaches. There would also have been some peripheral issues. His breathing would have been difficult and I think he'd probably have had problems with his eyesight and his thought processes. Having said that, it was pretty easy to establish what the poison was once we'd had in analysed and we've given him the anti-toxin. He should be ready to go home in a few days. At the moment, he just needs monitoring and a lot of rest.'

Dobey took all the information in, his heart leaping that at least one of his men was now out of the woods and on the mend. Now if they could just find out what had happened to Starsky, the Captain would be one very happy bunny.

'Will he wake any time soon?' the black man asked.

'I doubt it. His physical condition when he came in was poor and coupled with that, we gave him a sedative to help him get the rest he needs. He should sleep for a while yet.'

Dobey's face creased. 'You keep using the word "physically". Is there somethin' you aren't tellin' me Doc.?'

'You told me that Sergeant Hutchinson was grieving for the death of his partner. Sergeant Starsky died just over a week ago?'

'Yeah, we think so. At least that's what we're gonna find out.'

The medic ignored the cryptic comment and continued. 'He continues to call for his partner and not everything that we've seen in our physical examinations would be caused by the poison. Captain, what I'm trying to say is that your man's mental health may be in question. And that, we can't establish until he's awake.'

'Hutch'll be fine. I just need to find Starsky an' he'll be ok.'

'I thought you said that Sergeant Starsky was dead – that he died a week ago' the medic said, thinking that maybe the whole of the Bay City Police Dept had finally lost it.

'Yeah, well, don't believe everythin' ya read in the newspapers. Is he gonna sleep for a while? Is it safe for me to go? I'll be back later.'

'Sure. He'll sleep until we let him wake up.'

'Well don't let him wake up till I get back huh? I'm gonna go back downtown and maybe get some answers for him.' Dobey got stiffly to his feet and stretched the muscles in his back. It had been a long time since he'd kept an all night vigil. Discounting the time Starsky had been shot, the time before that was when his own partner, Elmo had finally been taken out by a gunman's slug. Elmo had taken fifteen days to die and Dobey had been at the hospital for every single one of them. The places left him feeling sick to his stomach, but his loyalty to his men always made him attend to give his support.

He bent over the figure on the bed and gently patted Hutch's shoulder. A stray bang of dark wheaten hair lay against the cop's forehead and looking over his shoulder to check that no-one would witness the move Dobey reached up and smoothed it away. It wouldn't do for the cast iron will of the police Captain to come into question and he would never have touched any of his men in such a familiar fashion had they been awake to witness it. But Dobey felt so badly for the big blond that his emotions ran wild.

Coughing gruffly, Dobey regained control of himself, clamping down on his emotions with steely resolve. 'I'll um….see you later Hutchinson. Just rest huh? Be right back son.'

Without a backwards glance, the Captain left the small quiet private room and headed out to the parking lot. On the drive back to the metro he went over the facts in his head.

Fact one. Sue had tried to kill Hutch. She'd used poison at first, but something had made her decide that it wasn't quick enough and she'd resorted to trying to smother her "boyfriend".

Fact two, Hutch had been convinced that Starsky was still alive although no-one had believed it at the time, putting it down to the blond's overwhelming grief for his partner's death.

Fact three. No jewellery or any other distinguishing feature had been found on the body that had been burned in Starsky's apartment. Unusual in the extreme, it wasn't enough to build a case on, but this morning the results of the dental testing would be in and he'd be able to say yay or nay as to whether Starsky had in fact perished in the flames.

Fact four. Sue had kept everyone away from Hutch while he'd been sick.

Fact five. No-one knew very much about Sue, but Dobey was damned if he wasn't gonna get pretty well acquainted with her real soon.

Pulling into the parking lot at the Metro, Dobey got out and hauled his ass up to the third floor and the records office. Walking in he was greeted by the officer on duty.

'Captain Dobey! We don't often see you up here in our eerie. And so early in the morning too. What can we do for you?' Michaelson had only been with the department four months. He was fresh faced and young, but had endeared himself to all by being eager and capable.

'I want ya to pull any records you might have on one Susan Gardener, age 30ish.'

'The woman who tried to kill Hutch?' Michaelson asked.

'News travels fast, yeah, that's her' Dobey grunted.

'Sure thing Cap'n. How is Hutch? Will he make it?'

'Yeah. Thank God. The Doc says he should be fine. I just wanna nail this woman. I want you to find every piece of dirt ya can on her. I don't want her to have had a parking ticket without us knowin' about it. Can ya do that for me son?' Dobey stopped himself. 'Sorry….Michaelson.'

The fresh faced officer grinned, knowing that he seemed to bring the father out in most of the older officers. 'No problem Captain. If it's there, believe me, I'll find it. Give me a couple of hours huh?'

Dobey smiled, his faith in the young man unquestionable. He knew Michaelson would leave no stone unturned and he fought the urge to pat the young man on the head. Instead he gruffed a "thank you" and left.

Moving on from records, Dobey went back to his own office, poured himself a large black coffee, added three sugars and then sat down at his desk. He massaged his fingers into the knots at the back of his neck, stretched luxuriously and then reached for the phone, ringing down to the city morgue. It was early – not yet 7:30 but he knew Rodriguez was an early bird and the phone picked up on the fourth ring.

'Hey Rodriguez, good mornin'.'

'And good mornin' to you Captain. Are you telepathic or somethin'? I was just about to ring your office' the Spaniard chuckled down the phone.

'What have ya got for me?'

There was a sigh down the phone. 'I don't know whether this is good news or bad news Captain, but I have the autopsy report on the body found at 2000 Ridgeway. Dental records concur. This is not Sergeant Starsky,'

The world seemed to fall away from under Dobey's chair and for a moment a wave of dizziness assailed him as he grabbed for the chair arm. 'Say again Rodriguez. That aint Starsky. It's not him, right?'

'One hundred percent sure Captain. The body in the morgue belongs to one Hubert McMillan. He was a small time thief and has lately been living on the street. The body is not Senior Starsky.'

Dobey closed his eyes in relief. 'Thanks Rodriguez. You did good. I owe ya one.'

There was a muted chuckle. 'You owe me plenty Captain, but I'm just glad I could be of service.'

The black man put the telephone down and massaged at his temples with his fingers. Hot damn! Hutch had been right. Starsky wasn't dead. Or at least, that wasn't Starsky's body – not the same thing as Starsky not being dead at all. But he'd work with it. Now they needed to concentrate on where the brunet cop was and why he wasn't at Ridgeway that night, and how Hubert McMillan had ended up in Starsky's bed. As they said in all the old Sherlock Holmes films Dobey liked to watch, "the plot thickened".

An hour later and Dobey's phone rang for a second time. This time Michaelson's voice sounded down the phone.

'Captain Dobey?'

'Michaelson, tell me what you've got.'

'Nothing Sir. Nada. Zip. Sue Gardener is as clean as a whistle.'

'Shit.' Dobey spat out the expletive with feeling.

'No, Sir. Not shit. This means something.'

'It does? Explain that to me son' Dobey said, the irony heavy in his voice.

'Everyone has some records, even if it's that they didn't file a tax return on time. Believe me, over the past couple of hours I've searched our records, I've checked with neighbouring precincts and I've gone over all the microfiche records for a Susan Gardener. Then I started looking further afield. I've checked tax records, birth's deaths and marriages, school records. Everything I could think of. And here's the really odd thing. Susan Gardener only came into existence four years ago.'

Dobey grasped his telephone all the harder. 'Say again!'

'The woman you have in the cells only has records going back four years. Before that, it's like she never existed. Like I said, clean as a whistle.'

'But in these last four years you have records for her. Does that mean maybe she came here from another country?'

'No Sir, we'd still have her records from her country of origin. I mean that up until four years ago Sue Gardener didn't exist.'

'I'm comin' up.'

Dobey slammed the phone down and furrowed his brow. What the hell was going on? No records until four years ago? Shit! Forcing his tired and bruised body up with a quiet hiss, Dobey made his way quickly up to the third floor again and pushed open the door to the records office. Michaelson was waiting for him with a small buff folder containing scribbled notes.

'That's the only stuff there is on Sue Gardener. That's her work records and her tax records for four years.'

Dobey looked at the notes the young officer had made. Sue Gardener. Born Alabama 13th May 1950. Worked as a chief executive of Western Electronics until a year ago and then left. She hasn't had formal employment since. He looked up. There was something about it that seemed to make sense. Something he ought to remember – it was right there at the back of his mind if he could only think!

And then, like a light bulb going on in his head, the answer came to him. Dobey let out a low groan. 'Michaelson – do one final thing for me will you? Pull this file' he wrote out the name on the top of the paper. The young officer's eyebrow shot up his forehead but he did as he was asked and deftly Dobey ran through the details, stopping at one name and prodding at it with a stubby finger.

'Thanks Son, you may have just saved Starsky's life' the black man said as he ran from the room and out to his car. Michaelson watched him go with a look of disbelief on his face.

'Saved his life? He's um….he's dead, isn't he?'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Dobey rushed into the hospital room occupied by his blond cop. Hutch had had a good night and his sedation had been discontinued so that now, as the door swung open wide, crystal blue eyes cracked open and Hutch rolled his head on the pillow. His face cracked into a weak smile as he saw his Captain.

'Hey' he croaked as Dobey came to his bedside. Hutch's voice was raw and rasping from the tubes that had been forced down his throat, but already his eyes seemed clearer and he had none of the gut wrenching pains in his stomach. Although still incredibly weak, he felt rested and better than he had done for days.

'Hey yourself. How're ya doin'?' Dobey asked.

'Cap'n I have to tell you. I tried back at my place but…. You're gonna think I'm crazy, but I know Starsk is still alive' Hutch said in a rush.

'Yeah, I know son. I believe ya.'

Hutch's eyebrows rose. He'd been expecting a fight to convince the black man and this came like a bolt from the blue. 'You do? You believe me? Ya don't think I'm a candidate for Cabrillo?'

'I believe ya. As to whether you're crazy, well maybe you should pick your girls a little more carefully.'

A flash of pain and a little fear crossed the cop's face and he closed his eyes. 'Sue! Why, Cap'n? Why? I thought she loved me, and then she sold us both out. Why?'

'Coz she aint Sue Gardener' Dobey said gently.

Hutch raised his head from the pillow and frowned. 'She isn't? Then who?'

'Sue Gardener didn't exist till four years ago. She's a clever one. She managed to expunge all her previous records. The only thing she left was a record of being Chief Executive of Western Electronics.'

'Western…. Name rings a bell.'

Dobey sighed heavily. 'It should do. You investigated them four years ago. They're a subsidiary of a bigger holding corporation. Hutch….son. She was out for revenge pure and simple. She wasn't Sue Gardener. Her real name is Sue Gunther.'