8
"You don't really wanna wear this, do you?" Hutch inquired to his partner.
"Why do you ask? What's wrong with this outfit?" Starsky replied looking at his reflection in the mirror.
"Starsk, this was good for Vegas, not for this mission. We're supposed to be taken seriously, remember?"
"I AM serious!" the brunette hit back, a bit surprised.
"Now, c'mon, pick up something more... I don't know... more..."
"More what?"
Hutch could not find the proper word to say to his partner who was posturing and assessing his look. He was wearing a nicely cut white outfit, the "George-Straight" kind of suit, like the one he was wearing when they went to Las Vegas to try and snatch the show girls murderer. The hat he put on his head to finalize his undercover disguise gave him the look of a bad gangster TV show. With the Humphrey Bogart smile he put on his face, this definitely made Hutch grin and frown.
"More serious!" Hutch finally said in an exasperated voice.
"Okay." Starsky sighed while searching on the shelves for another disguise. "Hey, why don't we dress like we're going to the Tribunal? You know, suit 'n tie."
"Yeah...good idea... and shoes."
"Of course... You wanna go barefoot?"
"I meant shoes, Starsk... not Adidas!"
"Yeah, I got that!... Hey, what about this?" the brunette asked while showing his blonde partner a dark grey suit.
"That's perfect! Now would you please hurry? We still gotta go to the precinct to finish those reports on the jewellery burglary and hand them to Dobey. Then we gotta see Huggy and fill him in. And I wanna go through the Fuentes file one more time before we make our first move."
"What about our names? Did you think of something for you?"
"Starsk... please... pick up something, will ya?"
Hutch was fidgeting even more impatiently.
They had been in the shop for more than forty-five minutes and in that amount of time, Starsky had changed at least four times, picking up one outfit after another and all of them were making him look like a movie star rather than a believable drug dealer.
When he finally made his choice, they both got dressed back in their regular clothes: dark brown pants, cream shirt, a brown overshirt and brown shoes for Hutch; black shirt and tight jeans, jacket and same old white and blue Adidas for Starsky.
They rushed to the Torino under a thin drenching rain. Starsky started the ignition and headed to the Central. They kept silent for a moment, but Hutch knew his partner would not keep silent for long. There was a sure thing about the brunette: if he was in a good mood he would talk, just about anything, just for the pleasure of talking. For Hutch, this was a sign everything was all right, even though, at times, he would have preferred some moments of silence and meditation. The blonde was more of the introverted type, calm on the outside most of the time, except when things would turn agitated or difficult. Then he would turn into an uncontrollable blonde tornado which nothing could master but his partner.
The Torino engaged in the heavy traffic and headed to the Pits where they had decided to spend a while and relax before rushing into their new mission. Huggy's bar had always been a place where the two detectives enjoyed spending a couple of hours. The black man had a way of entertaining his guests in a way that made everyone feel at ease and comfortable. Besides, this time, they had to make sure they had all the elements necessary to blend in in their new role as... well as dope intermediaries about to propose a new deal to the guy they wanted to bust. The only detail was that they had not yet decided upon their undercover names. Starsky briefly turned to Hutch who was staring in front of him and had not uttered one word since they had left the shop.
"Did you get a name?" the brunette asked.
"Huh... What?" Hutch asked, suddenly awaking from his reverie.
"A name? For our cover?"
"Huh... not yet. My mind is a big blank for now. And you?"
"Yep. I got one. Thought of it last night."
"I'm curious? What's it gonna be then?"
"Mike Burnett."
Hutch looked at his partner for a moment then again at the road, where the traffic was getting a bit more intense now.
"Yeah... Sounds genuine enough."
"Ya think so?
"Yeah, sure. While you're at it, try to find one for me, will ya?"
Starsky smiled and glanced at his blonde partner.
"What about... Gary...huh... Gary..."
"Gary what?"
"Gary Cooper."
"Starsky! You're nuts, you know that?"
"Just kidding. Let's try Gary..."
"I don't really like Gary."
"Okay, let's try..."
"Brett."
"Brett? What kinda name is that?"
"I like the sounds of that."
"Sounds too British, man."
"Okay, you pick it up, since you know better."
"Don't be angry with me."
"I'm not, Starsk. It's just that this name business is not really important. What is important is that we manage to nail the guy and his gang."
"Yeah, sure, but would you go there and introduce yourself as the Blond Blintz?" Starsky replied, very amused now.
"Nah, don't talk nonsense. Hey... I got it! What about Johnny..."
"John Wayne?"
"Starsk, gimme a break!"
"Okay... Sorry... I'm hungry and when I'm hungry, I can't think straight."
"Stop trying to think then!"
Starsky giggled and concentrated on the road. They had almost arrived and Starsky parked the red and white Gran Torino close to the back entrance. He shut off the engine and turned to his blond friend.
"We also gotta pick another car than mine when we go and meet this Fuentes... Too flashy."
"I don't believe what I've just heard." Hutch replied with a big surprised look.
"Why?"
"Your beloved Torino? Too flashy? It's the very first time I ever heard you admit it. What happened to you?"
"Hutch..."
"Yeah?" Hutch's voice was now amusingly mocking.
"Nuthin'." Starsky mumbled.
When they entered the Pits, they saw Huggy leaning on the bar, with his head leaning on his hands. They quickly walked to their friend. Huggy heard them approaching and raised his head.
"Hey hey, the Daltons!" he said in a strangely clear voice.
"What's the matter, Hug?"
"Nothing... Let's say that I should remember to plan for a day off the day after a celebration."
"What celebration? Did we miss something?" Starsky asked, trying to pretend to be disappointed they were not invited.
"Oh, Turquet came by last night. He's... he's getting married."
"What?" both detectives exclaimed in a perfect synchronicity.
"Yeah,... what do you know, huh? Who would have thought? Well, anyway, we... had a preliminary stag night. He sure wants to organize one with you two, guys, when you're done with your current mission. Let's say we took a bit of advance... Ouch!" he finished holding his temples.
"Turquet? Getting married? Yeah, that's great!" Starsky almost shouted.
"Please... Starsky... could you refrain your enthusiasm from reaching new decibel records?" Huggy painfully said.
"Sorry."
"Are you feeling well enough to get us two beers?" Hutch asked in a perfectly low and soft tone, showing a big frank smile on his face. Of course, he knew about hangovers; Starsky and he had had more than one.
"Sure, Blondie."
He turned on himself to fetch two glasses and started to pour the clear bubbling liquid into each one, and handed them to his friends.
"Here you go."
"Thanks, man." Starsky almost whispered with a large smile on his face.
They drank in silence for a moment, giving short glances at Huggy.
"You know what, you look a bit pale. Maybe you should go upstairs and let Carla run the place today." Hutch said in a truly compassionate voice.
"Pale? Very funny, Blondie... But maybe you're right. I don't even wanna know how we're gonna end when we go through the real thing with you, guys."
"Another day... another story... One step at a time." Starsky said.
"And please, Curly, don't try any more philosophy. 'Coz I feel like I'm gonna thr-..."
Huggy never finished his sentence. He rushed and disappeared in the men's room.
The detectives looked at each other, a bit worried.
"It's all a matter of distribution between the liquid quantity absorbed and the body weight. Huggy is too thin to cope with big quantities, that's all." Starsky seriously claimed.
"Starsk..."
"What?"
"Stop this. Or you're gonna give me a headache too."
Starsky kept silent for about thirty seconds, then turned to his friend.
"Do you think we're gonna get this guy?"
There was no need to explain who he was referring to.
"Yeah. Don't worry Starsk. Remember, he came on OUR territory. And guess who he's gonna find on his way? Me and thee. As always."
"Me and thee..." whispered Starsky, holding his glass on the bar with both hands and slowly caressing away with one thumb the mist that had formed on the outside surface.
They drank in silence, thinking about the scenario they were gonna put in motion two days later. They had done this before. Yet, both officers never presumed any mission was easy, as any last minute glitch could jeopardize their cover, or they could get hurt in the process, or someone else could get hurt. Failure was just the only option they never envisaged. Maybe it was their strength. Some would say they were sometimes reckless. Their Captain thought they were a bit out of line sometimes, but yet going by the Book.
Starsky sighed a couple of times, swallowed the rest of his beer in one gulp.
"C'mon, Blondie, let's check on Huggy before going and then, let's hit the sack. I don't know why but I have a feeling this mission is not gonna be a vacation cruise. We'll go through the file again tomorrow. I'll bring the croissants to your place tomorrow morning, okay?"
" 'Kay.' Hutch simply answered. He felt tired too and was longing for a good night sleep.
The continuous filthy weather seemed to have drained all the energy from most of the inhabitants for the last couple of weeks.
Huggy came back, reassured his friends he would be all right.
The detectives decided they would call him the next day to fill him in with the last details of their undercover story, for he was in no shape to listen to anything right now. They said their goodbyes and headed for the Torino. The rain was even denser than when they came in. Like it was trying to wash away the dirt.
But the city would have a hard time getting rid of some of the usual dirt, especially the one who was spying on a girl who would not say why she came, on a man who could not pretend to let go, on everyone standing in his way. No rain could ever clean this one.
S*H ~ S*H ~ S*H ~ S*H ~ S*H ~ S*H ~ S*H ~