ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER BIT OF PAY

There were times when everything went by routine. Despite what you see on the television and in the films real cops go for days, maybe weeks without making a big bust, or dealing with a serial killer or even chasing a pickpocket along the street. Most days are spent in the car on patrol, or in the squad room writing up the reports of those same patrols.
Ever since Starsky had got back from the East Coast nearly two weeks ago, the two of them had been following the same boring routine. The only variety came in the choice of cars (nine out of ten they took Starsky’s because Hutch’s was about to render up its engine to the big scrap-yard in the sky any day now). Some days they ate in the canteen, some days they went to Huggy’s or back to one of their apartments. Once they even bought burgers and sat at the end of the Santa Monica pier watching the ocean waves come in and out.
“Just like my old man used to say; ‘another day, another bit of pay.’ Shit Hutch what do we have to do to get some action around here, start robbing banks ourselves?”
“Come on Starsk, look at it like this, at least you momma won’t have to worry about what you’re doing now you’re back!”
“Fuck you buddy!”
They both laughed; Starsky threw the remains of his sandwich to a passing gull which didn’t even bother to investigate it. “See? Even the fuckin’ birds are bored around here!”
Laughing they walked back to the car, Hutch’s, and as they did Starsky couldn’t resist the opportunity. “I’ll bet ya five bucks it won’t start!” Hutch threw him a look across the top of the car that told him to shut up.
As they settled into place Starsky reached for the radio; “this is Zebra Three, we’ve finished our gourmet banquet and are heading back into the land of adventure” he said with mock boredom.
As he was speaking Hutch was turning the ignition, again and again and again – nothing.
Starsky pressed the button on the handset “Correction. This is Zebra Three calling for breakdown assistance. See the blond guy sitting in a lame excuse for a car near the Santa Monica pier.”
“Oh and where will you be, Starsky?” Muriel the dispatcher was trying not to giggle.
“Me? I’ll be on my way to my place to get my car!”
Before Hutch could say anything – or hit him – Starsky was out of the car and jogging across the road to a bus stop. As he arrived the bus appeared, sketching a wave to Hutch, and grinning from ear to ear, he hopped aboard.
Fuming, Hutch watched Starsky disappear. The radio crackled. “Come in Zebra Three.”
“Yes Muriel.”
“Has your car really died on you Hutch?”
“Yes honey, I think this time it really has given up.”
“I’ll get the station breakdown out to you right away.”
“Thanks Muriel. The way Starsky drives he might get here first, tell the guy I’ll leave it unlocked, can’t steal it anyway!”
“Ok.”
Hutch was right. The red Torino with its crazy white slash appeared around the corner just ahead of the precinct breakdown truck. Hutch flipped the keys to the driver and went over to his partner’s car. Starsky yelled out of the window as he started her up “Hey Eddie, take it straight to the scrap yard over by the docks. We’ll see ya there.”
“Hey wait a minute, where do you come off deciding to send my car to the scrap yard?”
“Listen buddy, sometimes you have to accept your karma, right, isn’t that what you’re always telling me. Well your car’s karma is to go to the scrap yard that belongs to a friend of my Uncle Al. He’ll give you a better price than anyone else…you know, family and all. Then we’ll go and se if we can find you a nice little wreck that still has some life in its motor. Ok? Hey maybe old Rusty will have something in his yard!”
“Rusty?”
“Yea, can you believe it? The guy who owns the scrap yard really is called Rusty. Of course, when you see him you’ll understand.”

They drove on in silence. Starsky occasionally chuckled under his breath, but catching a glimpse of the look on Hutch’s face, he swallowed it.

As the Torino rolled into the scrap yard a guy came towards him. “No need for introductions” Hutch thought, the guy had the reddest hair and beard Hutch had ever seen in his life! Before he could stop him, his partner had hopped out of the car and was already in deep conversation with Rusty. Arm around Rusty’s shoulder Starsky was speaking in a low voice and guiding the other guy well out of Hutch’s ear-shot. Suddenly Starsky stopped and stood back from the other man “You have got to be kidding!” The two men started their discussion again and finally Starsky came back to the Torino grinning from ear to ear.

“I got you a deal.”
“Huh?”
“He’ll take that heap of crap and exchange it for that,” Starsky indicated a car hidden under a car shroud, “and another five.”
Warily Hutch asked the obvious question, “Five what?”
“I told you it was good deal. Five hundred bucks! Now that’s what I call a deal!”
“Wait a minute Starsk, I don’t even know what’s under that cover…”
“No, but I do and believe me partner….”
“Starsky.” Hutch managed to add a couple more syllables to the name and his voice rose with each one of them. “If you’ve traded my car for a flashy piece of tawdry…..”
“Now would I do a thing like that to you?” The mock innocence was as ever totally beguiling. “Trust me, you’re gonna love it. Come on. This way, don’t be shy. Now close your eyes and one, two, three, open your eyes!”
As he spoke Starsky whipped the cover off the hidden car, and Hutch couldn’t believe his eyes. A five to six year old Ford, dented and battered like it had been used in a stock car race, stood before him. The car had originally been tan, but it now had pale gray fenders.
“And the bonus is…ta a da…” sliding behind the wheel, Starsky flipped out a key, put it in the ignition and turned it. “…it even has an engine!” The car started up and it was obvious even to Hutch that the engine was not specially tuned or “tweaked” it was just running normally.
“You don’t have to thank me, just buy me a beer at Huggy’s. Hey Rusty, he’ll be back tomorrow with the five Cs. Now if you would like to follow me cowboy, I’ll lead you to the watering hole.”
Starsky got back into his car, gunned the engine to produce a deep satisfying growl and set off in a screech of tires and a cloud of dust.
“Show off” Hutch muttered as he set out to follow the Torino to The Pits.

***************************************************

As he pulled away from the scrap yard Starsky was chuckling to himself. He just couldn’t resist teasing Hutch when he was getting all uptight about his car. Starsky never could understand why his partner took such a perverse pleasure in driving a terrible car. When Hutch once mentioned that the Torino was “not exactly discreet on a stakeout”, Dave realized that sometimes his friend still had a lot learn about the ways of the street. He replayed the conversation in his head.
“Whaddya mean ‘not discreet’? Who wants to be ‘discreet’? Listen buddy, look at what the pimps and the hustlers and the pushers are driving out there. They see this car? Man they see a guy with flash. They see a guy who has got something they don’t have. The last thing they see is a cop!”
“But Starsk, think about it….”
“I’m explaining it to you and you aren’t taking it in. Those people see two guys slinking around in a non-descript heap, they think “losers” or they think “cops trying not to look like cops.” They see this car and they don’t know what to think except: “Where’d he get those wheels?” So when we pile out with our guns they’re still thinking “who are these guys” and we got the edge on them. By the time they’ve figured it out, they’re busted!”
“But on the other hand, once we’ve done it once……..”
“That’s just it, we do it every time because man they can not believe that cops really roll in a car like this.”

His thoughts were interrupted by the radio: “Zebra Three, come in please, patch through to Captain Dobey.” Starsky grabbed the handset, it was up to him to respond, Hutch didn’t have his radio in yet.
“Yea, Starsky.”
“Starsky, you and Hutch meet me at the warehouse on Berth Five of the north port.”
“On our way Cap’n - well at least I am”
“What the hell do you mean, where’s Hutch?”
“He just took delivery of his new car Cap. He’s behind me but he doesn’t have a radio.”
“Just get here!”
“Yes sir!”

“Ok” he thought, “let’s see how well that new tub of his reacts to this”. ‘This’ was one of Starsky’s special tricks, a high-speed parking break turn, a provoked skid that set him back on himself before the car had time to notice!. Even Starsky admitted that his car had a fault, the suspension was lousy and the back end didn’t always follow the front end round turns.
This time the car responded sweetly and Starsky grinned and waved to Hutch as they passed one another. In his rear view mirror he saw Hutch pull off a more laborious “by the book” 360° turn and start to follow him back the way they’d come.
The two cars pulled up alongside the Captain’s car parked outside the warehouse. The welcoming committee included an ambulance and the coroner’s team. The Captain was waiting at the door, and even he looked pale.
“What do we have Captain?” Hutch asked as he came up alongside his chief.
“Young woman, raped, beaten. Not a pretty sight either. Whoever did this is sick. The watchman found her because the killer left him a trail to follow.”
Starsky arrived, having stopped to check with the coroner’s team which of their investigators was on duty; he’d been relieved to hear that it was Chris Donahue. “What do you mean, ‘a trail’?”

“The watchman thought he saw someone coming out of the warehouse so he came to take a look. That’s when he saw…” Dobey’s voice trailed and instead of continuing he simply turned and pointed to the ground behind him. For the first time Starsky and Hutch did not tease him about his size, he had effectively hidden the ‘trail’. Starsky put his hand to his mouth and turned dangerously pale. “Is that what I think it is? It is, isn’t it?…Oh holy shit…” he couldn’t help himself, he turned and ran and threw up over the edge of the dock into the oily water. When he stood up he saw Hutch making his way over to dump his lunch in the same place. “Pity to waste such a good sandwich” Starsky quipped as he went back to the Captain. “OK, I guess it’s time to go see what’s at the other end.”
Starsky tried not to think about it as he followed the line of unravelled human intestine into the warehouse. It looked like a slimy pinkish-blue rope; he tried very hard not to think of sausages. Coming up alongside Donahue he fought to keep control over his own gut. “So what can you tell me, Chris? Aside from the fact that Jack the Ripper is still alive and working in LA.”
“I’d say she died about an hour and a half ago. The killer knows what he’s doing. Apparently she was raped, there are signs of violence I’ll tell you more after the autopsy. There’s bruising on her face, could have been how he got her on the floor. The best is yet to come. The killer used a clean scalpel, and he knew exactly where to open her to get out the guts, and the rest…”
“The rest?”
“Yea, look over here.” Donahue led Starsky to the body, neatly placed at exactly the right level on the corpse’s belly, was her uterus. Starsky looked at Donahue, his face had hardened and all glimmer of his earlier flippancy gone. “Look Chris, I tended not to attend bio classes, you know, one rabbits thing looks like another, and girls only have one, and that one is more interesting to a growing boy. So what I mean is, why did he take that out?”
“The gut lies behind it.”
Starsky couldn’t think of an answer to that
“Make sure you get all the photos. Don’t miss a detail.”
He turned and left as fast as he could without actually running.

Hutch didn’t have the courage to go in. He decided to talk to the watchman who had found the body. The old man was in shock and the paramedics wouldn’t let Hutch speak to him. In fact taking a look at Hutch, one of them suggested that the cop should lie down in the ambulance too. He shook his head and went back to Dobey. His partner arrived at the same time “Didn’t have the guts for it huh?”
“Starsky!” Dobey and Hutch yelled in unison.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist it.”
Dobey looked from Starsky to Hutch. “I want this killer found before we have every crazy and psychic in the city claiming to be in communication with Jack the Ripper.”
“Oh” said Starsky, “you thought of him too. Is that how you got to be a Captain, Cap’n?”
“Get outta here now!”
Starsky winked at Hutch, “Come on Blintzie; I tell you what, we’ll drop your car off at the station so they can fix you up with a new radio, and then we’ll hit the streets.”
Hutch nodded in agreement. He still felt sick.

****************************************************

They left Hutch’s car at the precinct garage and headed for The Pits. Starsky slipped the car onto the “No parking” bay behind the bar – the sign didn’t apply to him; in fact Huggy put it there to make sure that the Torino could be parked discreetly when necessary.
They went in by the back entrance and Starsky almost collided with Angel, the short order cook. Angel had a plate of hot dogs in his hand, Starsky took one look and his usually tanned face went dangerously green. Hutch pushed him forward and they went straight to the bar.
“Two scotches Huggy, please.” Starsky sounded grim. Hutch had headed straight for the john
“Hey wait a minute, you guys been canned or what?”
“No jokes Hug. We both need a little medication after what we just saw.”
“And what did this hard bitten tough guy see that turns him to want hard liquor?”
“You do not want to know”. Starsky’s emphasis on every word convinced Huggy that this was serious. He turned and poured the drinks.

When Hutch came out of the john he was still wiping his mouth. He took a stool next to Starsky who was sipping his drink gingerly. Hutch downed his in one shot. Starsky and Huggy looked at him, then looked slowly at one another. “You did that like a pro’, partner.” “Yea, well sometimes it feels better than others.” Starsky let that one pass without comment.

“Can I offer you gentleman anything to eat. The hotdogs are fresh?”
“Oh Huggy…………..” it was Starsky’s turn to make a dash for the john.

When Starsky returned Huggy and Hutch were installed in a booth; he joined them. Huggy had just got to the bit about the ‘trail’ and if a black man can go green Huggy was in danger of doing so. He gulped at his drink and looked at his two friends, his almond shaped eyes wide with horror.
“Jack the Ripper.”

“Oh come on Hug, “Hutch sounded exasperated, “don’t you start that crap.”
“Well Hutch, they never did find him.”
Starsky smiled, “Huggy the guy would have to be over an hundred years old! On the other hand there’s someone out there a little younger than that, and he seems to get a kick out of anatomy demonstrations.”
“I haven’t heard anything…yet. I’ll see what the word is. You guys should go home and rest, you both look wiped out.”
“Thanks Hug.”

Starsky and Hutch went to the car. The radio was squawking again. As Starsky hopped into the car and revved the engine, Hutch took the radio. “Yea, Muriel, this is Hutch. What do you have for us?”
“Chris has the autopsy report for you guys. He says you should come in and see it ASAP”
As Starsky swung the car into the traffic, Hutch slammed the red lamp onto the roof, not for the first time his timing was bad and he nearly lost the thing as the car swerved round the next corner.

Chris was waiting for them in the lab. Under a shroud, the distinct outline of a human corpse lay on the table beside him.
“Nice of you to cover her up, Chris, but haven’t we seen all she had?” said Starsky.
“Yes and no. I was right. Looks like the killer hit her in the face to get her down. He may have been wearing a ring, there’s a cut in the bruised area. She wasn’t raped, but you could say she was assaulted. The killer has good surgical technique. I told you that before. What I couldn’t tell you at the time is that the killer also knows how to perform an abortion.”

“He knows what?” Starsky’s eyes were wide.

“She was pregnant. Blood test showed it. The uterus was empty, therefore…”
Hutch finished the sentence for him “…we’re looking for someone who has had medical training.”

Starsky turned towards the corpse and gently lifted the corner of the sheet to reveal the girl’s face. His face said it all. “Poor kid she must have really suffered. Do we know who she was?”
“She had no ID on her Starsky; nothing. The only clue I can give you is that there was dirt on her shoes, looks like the stuff they use for tennis courts, you know, red clay.”
“That means she was not killed in the warehouse. We’ll need photos of her Chris.”
“I’ve already taken them Starsky.” Chris handed a couple of Polaroids to Starsky who slipped them into his jacket pocket.
“Come on Blondie, let’s see who she was. I think we should start with that classy girls’ school over Brentwood way”
On their way back up to the squad room Hutch was intrigued. “Ok, how do you get to a girls’ school?”
“Simple, they have those clay tennis courts.”
“Either you have a secret life as a flasher or…no I don’t think I want to know.”
“I went to a tournament there years ago with a date, that’s all.”
“A date?”
“Yes, of course she might have been slumming because I don’t remember it lasting too long.” Starsky chuckled.
Sitting at their desks the two detectives got down to their respective tasks. They had an unspoken rule, Hutch wrote up the report; Starsky started hunting through the files. He called down to missing persons, although he knew that the chances were slim that a girl murdered only a few hours ago would have been reported missing so quickly. He was right. His next move was to call records and have them pull all known criminals with medical knowledge or a liking for knives. Five minutes later, Millie appeared with her arms full of files.
“Starsky honey, it’s only for you that I carry this lot up here, other cops have to come and get it.”
“Now that is an offer I would not have refused.” Starsky produced his most wolfish smile and faked a leer in Millie’s direction.
“I’ve said it before, you’re a trashy boy.”
“Just doing my best ma’am.”
“A very trashy boy…with charm.”
He swatted her butt with one of the files as she left; she turned and grinned at him. “Lots of charm.”

Starsky started going through the files. Perched as usual on the back of his chair, he flipped each one open in turn and scanned the pages. Hutch had never figured out how he did it. Starsky seemed to have an almost photographic memory and an ability to run his eye down the page, only focusing on the important. He had once asked him, but Starsky simply said “No point in reading more than you have to is there? I look out for the key words; if I see them I read the page, if not…next!”

Twenty minutes later Hutch had finished the report and poured coffee for both of them. Starsky had four files in front of him and a neat pile of rejected folders on the right of his desk. He was giving all his attention to two of the files. Slowly, he rejected one of them, and tapped the papers in front of him with his forefinger.

“Joe ‘Doc’ Wallis. Did ten years in a mental institution in Colorado for attempting to disembowel his girlfriend. He was arrested last month, but released for lack of evidence – the girl wouldn’t testify.”
“What did he try to do to her?”
“Threatened her with a knife and attempted to rape her. Bad luck for him, she was on her way home from a judo class.”
“So what are we waiting for?”
Stopping to pick up their jackets the two of them rushed out of the room.

“One question, Starsk. What about the other file?”
“Oh that; no doesn’t make sense.”

Hutch followed him to the car.

The address for Wallis was one of those flop house hotels that used to make Hutch retch. The lobby was full of the usual human flotsam that washed up in any hotel like this. A couple of drunks, a junkie so spaced out he didn’t even know he was in the wrong hotel and a couple of hookers. The man behind the counter had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a half empty bottle of scotch beside him. Starsky sauntered up to the counter, and banged hard on the bell.
“Well hello, Starsky, Hutch, you guys want a room or something?”
“Very…very…funny, Bobby.” Starsk spaced the words evenly and emphasize each one with a little more force than the one before. “In fact Bobby you are so droll I almost forgot to laugh.”
Hutch showed the desk clerk the photo of Willis. “All we need from you is a room number, Bobby.”
“Five oh seven”
As Hutch started up the stairs, Starsky went round behind the counter and disconnected the switchboard. “Don’t worry Bobby; I’ll fix it when we come back down.” He went over to the elevator.

On the fifth floor Starsky and Hutch stood either side of the door of room 507. Drawing their guns they looked at one another and Hutch gave a nodded signal. Starsky slid down against the wall and was in position to launch himself like a footballer blocking a tackle. Hutch kicked the door and went in fast, Starsky was right behind him. The room was empty. Starsky indicated the bathroom door with a nod of his head and the two of them took up position again. This time Starsky carefully turned the handle and opened the door. Willis was on the can, pants down around his ankles.
“When you’ve finished, we’d like to ask you a couple of questions. We’ll wait in here.” Starsky indicated the bedroom. He closed the bathroom door.
“It’s Ok, Hutch, the bathroom doesn’t have a window.”
The two of the sat on the bed and began to giggle helplessly.

Willis finally came out of the bathroom. “You have nothing on me.”
Hutch smiled and leaned towards him.
“Sit down,” he patted the bed beside him as he spoke, “and tell us where you were this morning around eleven o’clock.”
“I was with my parole officer.”
“Well you won’t mind if we just check that out, will you?”
“The ‘phone is over there, I’ll give you the number.”
Starsky got up, “I’ll just go back down and repair the switchboard.”

As they left the hotel the two cops Starsky turned to Hutch with mock seriousness and dead panned “How are you going to write that up?” They were still giggling when they got back to the precinct.

The look on Dobey’s face sobered them both up with a bang.
“In my office, now!”

Once through the door, Starsky served himself at the water fountain, then filled a second goblet and handed it to Hutch, “I have a feeling we might need this.”
Dobey had a file in front of him and as he spoke he handed it Hutch, who glanced at it and took a gulp of water before handing the papers to Starsky.

“That came from Ventura County Sheriff’s office about a half an hour ago, Donahue told their coroner about our case last night. Looks as if we have serial killer on the loose. You two are going to be working with them on this one.”

Starsky had been reading the file, he looked up; his face was a perfect reflection of the mood all three men felt, a kind of sorrowing anger that anybody to do such a thing.
He stood up and turned to Hutch, “What are you waiting for Blondie?”

As they went along the hall way Starsky stopped in front of the candy machine. Seeing Hutch’s face he said “If you’re good I’ll give you half my candy bar.” Hutch rolled his eyes and watched as Starsky applied his usual well-aimed tap to the machine, and took out his favorite chocolate bar. Happy, Starsky led the way down to the garage.
“Looks like your car’s ready, shall we give it a spin?”
Hutch was relieved to take the wheel, perhaps if he was driving he wouldn’t be able to see again those terrible photos passing like a slideshow in his head.
Starsky directed him to the quickest route to the Ventura County Sheriff’s office – as usual he took streets and short-cuts that Hutch would never have thought of. Soon they were heading out on the coast road.
Hutch let the window right down and the wind ruffled his hair. Starsky grinned and started whistling “Wish they all could be California Girls.” Hutch joined in and tried to sing the falsetto riff, but failed miserably as Starsky started laughing.
Hutch parked in front of the Sheriff’s office, on a space marked “Official Cars Only”. They walked into the building and Hutch made the presentations to the duty officer.
“Hi, I’m Detective Ken Hutchinson and this is Detective David Starsky we have an appointment with your Sheriff.”
The clerk looked up. She looked about eighty years old and had a hair growing from a wart on her chin.
“Am I supposed to be impressed?”
Starsky smiled sweetly (too sweetly in Hutch’s opinion, he sensed trouble not far below the surface). “Well ma’am, our Captain arranged for us to come to see Sheriff er...”
“Sheriff Howard Johnson.”
“…Howard Johnson…no kidding that’s really his name?”
“Yes, it is and would you believe it, my deputy’s name is McDonald!”
Starsky and Hutch turned to see a man who resembled a mushroom standing behind them. Johnson was almost as broad as he was tall, and he wasn’t more than five foot seven. His oversized Sheriff’s hat sat dead square on top of his head; when he took that hat off he revealed a perfectly bald head.
“I’ve been waiting for you two to arrive, come into my office. Winifred, could you find us some coffee please?”
Starsky looked again at Winifred and said “If it’s Ok with you, I’d rather have a glass of water.” As they followed Johnson into his office, Hutch nudged Starsky in the ribs and whispered “She looks like the wicked witch of the west.” “Why do you think I asked for the water? If she gets nasty I’ll throw it at her and she’ll melt, right?”

Once settled in Johnson’s office they got serious.
Three weeks earlier a young couple out looking for a quiet spot on the beach up above Malibu had seen something on the sand near a big rock. When they got closer they thought is was a rope; then they looked behind the rock. By the time the Sheriff’s men arrived the girl had passed out for the second time, and the boy had pissed himself.
“Exactly the same as your victim, boys, young, pretty, apparently raped, uterus on the belly and a ‘trail’ of guts.”
“Did you identify her?” Starsky asked.
“Yes, her name was Fiona Brown, she was a student at the local college; her boyfriend had just reported her missing.”
Hutch stopped him. “How long had she been missing?”
“More to the point, “his partner added, “have you hauled him in yet?”
“Yes, we had him in, he has an alibi. He was teaching a class at the university, fifty History of Art students can confirm it.” He turned to Hutch: “she’d been missing since the day before. She missed a class and a lunch date with her boyfriend. When she didn’t show up for another class that morning he called her apartment, and then he called us.”
“So she was dating the teacher?”
“Yes, Sergeant Starsky.”

Someone knocked on the door and the Sheriff called to come in. Winifred appeared and cast a disapproving look at Starsky: “Captain Dobey would like to speak to you, Detective Hutchinson.”
As he got up Starsky said flatly “I’m Starsky, he’s Hutchinson.” He picked up the ‘phone on the Johnson’s desk and turned to Winifred with a look that conveyed his irritation. “Would you care to tell me which line I should pick up ma’am?”
“Line three.”
“Thank you.”
He waited until she had left before pressing the button and taking the call.
“Yes Cap’n, Starsky here…..where?....we’ll be there in half an hour.”
He put the handset back on its cradle.
“Another one, we have to go Sheriff. We’ll be in touch.”

Starsky and Hutch ran out to the car in time to see a Deputy about to put a ticket on the windshield. Hutch flashed his badge and grinned at the Deputy. “Now I know that it’s hard to believe but this is an official car.”
The astonished Deputy jumped back as Hutch drove off.

In the car Starsky filled Hutch in. Another corpse had been found, this time in a park not far from the local shopping mall. This time a five-year old kid had started following the trail. Fortunately for him, his mother was a nurse and she recognized the ‘rope’ for what it really was.
“Same as the other two. Guts trailing, uterus on the belly. Hutch I’m getting a really bad feeling about all this. This is a grade-A-twenty-four-carat flake we’re looking for.”
“Yea I know. Starsky, how could anyone do this without leaving a trace?”
“I don’t know, but they always make a mistake eventually, so cross your fingers buddy.”

***************************************************************************

The next morning Starsky woke early – earlier than his habitual six thirty. He hadn’t slept well and he needed to clear his head. He got out of bed and pulled on sweat pants and a T-shirt. He rummaged under the bed and found his sneakers, and hopped across the room as he put them on. Slipping his key in the pocket of his pants he set off at a gentle jogging pace. After about a mile he picked up speed and continued for another five miles at a steady run, taking him on a circuit that would bring him back to the other end of his block. Five hundred yards from home he opened up to sprint the last stretch.
Once in the house again he glanced at the clock and allowed himself an approving smile, his timing was still as good as ever. He loved to think of Hutch diligently jogging his two miles and coming home to his revolting glop. Starsky switched on the coffee pot and headed for the shower. Ten minutes later, he was drinking his coffee and munching a slice of toast and honey when the ‘phone rang.
“Starsk?”
“Yea.”
“Huggy called, he has some information for us. I just got in from jogging and I guess you’re still in bed, lazy. I’ll meet you there in a half hour.”
“See you there.”
He looked at his watch, he had ten minutes to finish his breakfast and tidy up a little. Still munching his toast he went into his bedroom and made up the bed. “One day,” he told himself; ”I’ll finally go and buy some new covers for this bed.”
He set out for Huggy’s and arrived exactly twenty seven minutes after Hutch had called. Hutch arrived five minutes later.
Huggy served them both a big cup of coffee and Starsky started spooning sugar into his.
“I never can figure you out.” Huggy said to him. “Sometimes you drink it without sugar, and sometimes you pile in enough to make the spoon stand up.”
“Sometimes I need the energy, that’s all. Especially when Hutch calls me so early I don’t have time to eat a couple of chocolate bars and a burrito for breakfast.”
If only Hutch knew. He thought to himself and had to work hard to keep the smile of his face. Turning to Huggy he said: “So what have you got for us Hug?”

“Word on the street is that there is a new clinic in town.”
“And…?”
“And if you want to know more go see Big Sal.”
“I didn’t know that Sal still had here ‘salon’”
“She’s moved since you last visited her Hutch. Corner of Watts and seventh. You can’t miss it.”
It was still early so they decided to give Sal time to get her act together.
Starsky picked up a pool cue: “Winner buys lunch Ok? I’ll be kind, best of three.”
Hutch lost the first two, they didn’t bother to play the third.

The Torino came round the corner fast enough for the rear end to swing out forcing Starsky to over steer slightly, as the car screeched to a halt he narrowly missed a fire hydrant. Hutch had instinctively braced himself against the dash board as Starsky started the turn; it saved him from banging his head on the wind shield. “Jeez Starsk, must you drive like that?”
“Yea!”

Sal was ‘entertaining’ a fat guy when the boys walked into the salon; he picked up his shirt and left.
“Sorry about that, Sal.” Hutch didn’t sound sorry at all.
“What can I do for you handsome boys?”
Starsky sat down; “We hear that you might be able to tell us about a new abortionist in town.”
“It’s not against the law.”
“No, but you see we want to talk to the doctor.”
“Two blocks south of here, a white house on the right; Doctor Rose Wade.”
Starsky and Hutch looked at one another and Hutch said “Nice choice of alias.”
“Yea,” Starsky replied, “very subtle!”
Starsky was about to start the car when Hutch told him to wait a second.
“Yes?”
“The doctor is a woman, Starsky, doesn’t sound like our killer to me.”
“Oh of course, only men commit crimes like that. Hey Hutch haven’t you heard of Lizzie Borden?”
He started the car and drove to the doctor’s office. They went in. The receptionist, a busty blonde who had trouble keeping her blouse buttoned, gave Hutch an appreciative look. “What can I do for you gentlemen.”
“We need to speak to Dr Wade. If she has someone with her, we’ll wait.”
Starsky selected a magazine and settled into a chair. Hutch perched on the edge of the receptionist’s desk and started to talk to her in a low voice. Recognizing Hutch’s technique, Starsky turned the pages of the magazine with an exaggerated rustle. Hutch was well into his seduction of the receptionist when Dr Wade came out of her office.
She was around forty-five; tall and slender. Her auburn hair was swept up into a thick chignon that gave her the air of a super-efficient doctor. She was beautiful.
Starsky stood up and went over to her, hand stretched out in greeting; she shook it warmly, her hand lingering just a little longer than his. He didn’t respond, something in her eyes worried him. In fact, something in her eyes scared him and he could not identify what it was.
“Gentlemen?”
“I’m Detective Sergeant Starsky, the guy trying to seduce your receptionist is my partner, Ken Hutchinson.”
“Shall we go into my office?”
She led the way into her office and indicated the two chairs in front of her desk.
“I do nothing illegal here. I give advice and treatment to whoever needs it”

Starsky took the photos of the three victims out of his pocket and held them out to her. “Were any of these young women among your clients, Doctor?”
She missed a beat (and Starsky noticed); “No, I’m afraid I have never seen any of these young women before in my life.”
“Thank you; we won’t take any more of your time.”

As they left, Hutch took one last look at the receptionist; she was talking on the ‘phone, the receiver in her left hand. On the third finger she wore an engagement ring, and a wedding band. Starsky winked at her as they left – “He can’t help himself.”

“I dunno, Starsk, Dr Wade didn’t seem to be telling the truth, I think she knew one of the victims.”
Starsky was silent, and Hutch recognized the signs, his partner had seen or sensed something that bothered him. “You want to share it with me?”
“What? Oh it’s nothing.”
“Some ‘nothing’ I can almost hear your brain ticking!”
“Ok, if you really want to know Dr Wade made me think of someone else, and I can’t think who. It’s a face I’ve seen recently and I can’t remember where.”
“Well if it comes back to you, be sure to let me know.”
“You will be the first to know, believe me.”
“As long as it’s not a three thirty in the morning, like the last time you remembered something!”

*******************************************************************

Starsky continued to drive in silence. He dropped Hutch home in Venice and then started to drive out along the road that follows the ocean until he came to a spot somewhere between Santa Monica and Malibu. He parked on a parking lot near a small beach and started down the cliff path. He spotted a rock and went over to it and climbed up. Perched on the rock Starsky let his mind relax. There were times when he wondered just how much the human brain could store as information. How many images of horror did you have to retain until your brain started to clear itself out. He’d seen plenty and although he might have expected the worst thing to be the sight of his own father lying dead in a pool of blood, there had been worse, far worse. In Viet-Nam he’d seen women and children burned in villages, he’d seen his fellow soldiers return with arms or legs missing, jagged and bloody lumps of flesh where before there’d been a kid’s face; He’d seen murder victims, and rape victims, women beaten by lovers and pimps, but these last murders put all that in the shade. He could not figure out how someone could abort, murder and disembowel another human being. And he couldn’t work out why nobody heard or saw anything. The story of Jack the Ripper came back to him. He’d operated in late Victorian London, disembowelling prostitutes and nobody saw him or heard him. The murders finally stopped, but no “Ripper” was never caught or identified.
“Well” he said to himself, “this time we are going to find our ‘Ripper’. Killers always make a mistake eventually, and when this flake does, we’ll be there.”
He stared out to sea and let his breathing fall into rhythm with the breaking waves. The sun was sinking over the horizon and the sea reflected all the colors of the California sunset. Starsky knew that once the sun had disappeared it would quickly be too dark to tackle the cliff path safely, and he toyed with the idea of risking the adventure of trying; but common sense took over so he jumped down from his rock and made his way back to the car.

As he was heading back into town, he knew what had frightened him about Doctor Wade.
He reached for the radio, and then changed his mind “Might as well let Hutch get some rest too.” and switched on the car radio instead. The station was playing some relaxed piano jazz and it helped him to calm his thoughts.

*********************************************************************************

Starsky wasn’t the only one feeling bad.

Hutch closed the door behind him and sat on the couch. He didn’t even bother to take off his jacket and the holster that held the unwieldy Magnum at his side. He listened as the Torino’s distinctive growl faded into the night.

The silence was overpowering. He switched on the television, and then switched it off again. He went over to a stack of discs and sorted through them, but found nothing that suited his mood. The radio had a talk show, the conversations of the lonely in the night. He switched it off again.
He took off the jacket – if only to rid himself of the weight of his gun and the weight of what it represented – death. He wandered into the kitchen and hesitated between tea and beer. Good sense told him to lake a cup of soothing tea, take a shower and go to bed. Good sense is not always the winner, and this time it lost. Hutch opened the refrigerator and pulled a can from the back. He popped the capsule and looking at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, decided against a glass. Flopping down on the couch he drank the beer without even noticing that he’d emptied the can in a few long draughts. He looked at it, shook his head and went to find a second beer.

Three beers later, he wasn’t thinking any more clearly, but at least the images in his head were beginning to blur. It was not just the three women that flashed through his mind, but another, many years ago, the girl who had not wanted to have his baby. It was in his freshman year at college, before he met Van. He was still an innocent kid from Duluth and he had never slept with a woman before. The first fumblings were embarrassing for him and painful for her, but they soon found their rhythm and for a few delirious weeks Hutch thought that he had found the girl of his dreams. She shattered them by announcing that she was pregnant and that she had no intention of staying that way. For all his new found radicalism and his liberal ideas, Hutch could not believe that a woman could deliberately put an end to the life of the child within her. When the girl argued that it was her body and her choice, he argued that it was a human life. She argued that the fetus was not capable of surviving outside her body – she called it a parasite - and therefore there was nothing to kill. Hutch heard himself scream “but it’s one of God’s creations, a human being!” She slapped him and walked out of the room, and out of his life; he saw her a few days later, pale faced but happier than he’d seen her for weeks, and he understood that she had aborted the child. His child!
Sitting crying into his beer, Hutch knew that he must not let his personal feelings interfere with the case. He knew that Starsky took the view that each person should choose for themselves, he had even remarked that “politicians and ‘self-appointed moralists should keep out of it.” They would never be able to discuss it rationally.

Hutch was torn between a feeling of condemnation for these three women who had chosen to abort and his pity for them as victims. Even in his drunken haze he told himself that the victims came first and his value judgments took a back seat.

He stood unsteadily and went into the bedroom area. He managed to strip off his shoes and his shirt before he hit the pillow, snoring.

***************************************************************

Starsk was up bright and early. He decided against jogging in the neighborhood and shoved a change of clothes into his old kit bag before pulling on his sweat suit and trainers. He headed for the beach near Hutch’s place before changed his mind – meeting Hutch would be embarrassing, after all! Instead he headed for the same beach that he’d found the evening before. Leaving his car on the same parking lot, he skipped down the cliff path and started a steady run along the beach. He had no landmarks to give him his distances, so he relied on his watch, ten minutes outward, ten minutes inward, and he kept up a hard pace.

Back at the car, he headed for the precinct and went straight down to the locker room.
He was drying his hair with a towel when Hutch found him.
“What are you doing here, buddy?”
“I couldn’t sleep, I was driving around and I came straight here. Give me five minutes to get dressed, I’ll see you upstairs.”
Hutch went up the stairs, not noticing the sweat pants and the kit bag. Ten minutes later, hair still a little lank with water, Starsky appeared in the squad room. He was wearing some of the scruffiest jeans Hutch had ever seen, with a rip on one knee, he was also wearing his favorite beaten up brown leather flying jacket. Hutch felt ‘square’ in his tan sports jacket and brown corduroy slacks!

Sartorial splendor was not what Dobey had in mind when he called the two of them into his office.
Before either of them had time to say good morning, the Captain shoved another folder towards them.
“She was found at four this morning. The ‘trail’ was hanging out of a dumpster when the garbage gang arrived. This time the killer had added a new twist.”
Hutch didn’t want to even think what that might be. Starsky took the file and read it quickly. He looked sick. “Good thing I didn’t have breakfast!” Hutch looked at him questioningly. “In fact Hutch, if you’ve eaten, I think I’d better go alone this time.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ok but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He led the way. As Starsky walked along the corridor he fished a coin out of his pocket and flipped it “Torino or wreck?” Hutch called “heads “.
“Torino wins!”

Starsky was grinding his teeth, Hutch decided not to say anything. They pulled into an alley down in an area where the bums couldn’t even afford the flop house hotels and the missions were full. The dumpster was halfway down the alley. Starsky stopped the car at the entrance to the alley and they got out. Neither man felt inclined to get there first, but Starsky forged on. The coroner’s team was waiting for them, they were all smoking and for a moment Starsky wished he did too. Even Chris Donahue looked ill this time.
“Dobey says that he’s added something new?”
“Oh my god, Dave, I’ve never seen anything like this. Never.” Donahue could hardly speak. Starsky peered over the edge of the dumpster and almost fell back on the ground.
“Oh my God! That is horrible!” As he turned he saw Hutch coming towards him. He blocked his friend with his arm. “I’ve seen it, you don’t have to look.”
“Oh come on Starsk, I’m not a kid you know.”
“You still don’t have to look.” Hutch decided to take his word for it. He felt sick just imagining what Starsky had seen.

Back in the car, Starsky started the engine and eased the car gently out of the alley; he took the corner slowly and smiled at Hutch “Don’t want to throw up while I’m driving.”

He drove back to his apartment. “Sit down. What you need is something for your gut to work on, and I need some breakfast.” He put a couple of slices of bread in the toaster, and set two more to follow up. “Honey or strawberry……..no, on second thought, honey would be best.” He set the kettle to boil and found the tea bags. Breakfast made, he set a mug and a plate in front of Hutch. “Eat it. I know you don’t think that you can, but I’m telling you,” his voice took on the unmistakable tones of his mother, “you need to eat.” Hutch smiled wanly and forced himself to take a bite.
“Hey Starsk, where did you get this honey, it’s great.”
“You are not the only person who knows what’s good! There’s a little store down the hill, sells organic stuff and the guy was giving every one a taste. See I don’t always breakfast on cold pizza!”

An hour later Hutch felt better. On the way to the precinct Starsky took a detour and pulled up outside Dr Wade’s office.
“What are we doing here?”
“I just want to ask her something, you can wait here if you like.”
Hutch was glad to stay put. Starsky went into the office. A couple of minutes he came out.
“So? Did you find out what you wanted to know?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He started the engine and drove on to the station.

Hutch went down to the coroner’s lab to find out if there was anything else to add to the more than gory details.
Starsky went to the office and headed for the filing drawers. He pulled out the file that he had rejected a few days earlier. When Hutch came in Starsky was sitting on the seat of his chair head bowed over the file, he was pulling his lower lip with the fingers of his right hand.

“What do you have?”

“This guy, his name was Robbins. He was put away at the age of sixteen for attacking his girl friend. He did three years and then he disappeared from view. I knew he looked familiar. Look at the photo Hutch, who does he remind you of?”

Hutch took the photo and whistled softly…”Dr Wade.”

“Yea, and when I asked her if she had a brother she said ‘no’. But look at him, Hutch, the eyes and the mouth. If he isn’t her brother who in the hell is he? And who in the hell is she?”

Hutch was already on the ‘phone. “AMA? This is Detective Hutchinson, I need to know the background of Dr. Rose Wade. Age about forty five…” he looked up at Starsky who nodded. “She has an office on Seventh Street. Yes, I’ll hold.”

Starsky poured coffee for both of them and sat down opposite Hutch.

“You don’t? What about out of state? Yes, I see. Thanks.” He looked across the desk at his partner. “They have no record of a Dr Rose Wade.”

It was Starsky’s turn to grab a ‘phone, he stabbed the number for State records; once connected he asked for records on Dr Rose Wade. After listening for a while he put the ‘phone back in its place. “Not just the AMA, Hutch. She doesn’t have social security number, or a driver’s license, she doesn’t even have a birth certificate. Hutch, she doesn’t exist!”
“Then who in the hell is she?”
“I guess we’d better go back to her office and ask her.”

As they were passing dispatch the message came through.
“All units in the vicinity of the Bay Heights park, reports of female screaming.”
“That’s just a couple of blocks from Wade’s office.” Starsky said as they both started running to the car.

**********************************************************************

This time there was no corpse to greet them. The witnesses had heard a woman screaming, they had soon realized that it was not one woman but two. They saw one of the women push the other away from her, the second woman had run off in the direction of Wade’s office. The other woman was still there, crying. By the slight swelling of her belly, Hutch recognized the tell tale signs of a four month pregnancy.

Starsky was already with her, he had an arm around her shoulder and he was looking at her gently. She seemed almost hypnotized by his deep blue eyes. Something about the way he was looking at her put her at ease. She was answering his questions quite calmly; Hutch knew it was best to stay away.

Once he’d got all the information he wanted, Starsky led her to the car. “Do you have any one to look after you today?”
The girl nodded, her mother lived a few blocks away. Starsky insisted that they drive her home.
Starsky escorted the young victim to the house.
“Does your mother know that you’re pregnant?”
“No.” Her voice was hardly audible, her misery was written all over her face. “She wouldn’t understand. She says I’ve sinned enough.”
“Well she doesn’t have to know it from me.”
He knocked on the door and it opened immediately, Starsky had the feeling that her mother had seen the car pull up and was waiting behind the door.
“Where have you been? And who is this?” She indicated Starsky with her eyes, and her face showed her disapproval and disdain for the young man standing on her doorstep. Before she could speak again, Starsky flipped out his badge. She was visibly shaken.
“Now what have you done, you tramp?”
“You’re daughter was assaulted ma’am, she is lucky to be alive.” His voice was cold and firm, challenging this unloving mother to go any further. “She needs to rest.” He turned to the girl; “I’ll drop by tomorrow and pick you up so that you can come and make a formal complaint.”
She nodded her thanks and slipped past her mother who had gotten her breath back and was about to launch into another tirade. She didn’t get the chance.
“Listen ma’am, what happened to your daughter was not her fault, calling her a tramp isn’t going to help her much either. So I would suggest that you remember what it is to be a mother, and give your daughter the support she needs.” He turned and went back to the car before she could even draw breath to reply.

“Ok now what? Back to Dr Wade or whoever she is or do we hit the streets a bit more?”
Hutch sat back in his seat. “I don’t think Dr Wade is going to tell us anything. Why don’t we find out who she really is first?”
“That’s a very good idea.” Starsky did his best Stan Laurel imitation and headed the car down town.

They started to discuss the best snitches to look for. They decided against the hookers and the junkies and set out to look for Mickey. Mickey might be a drunk, but if there was any information on a weirdo to be had, he’d know where to find it.
Starsky cruised the sidewalk in front of a row of bars, each one seedier than the last.
As they were beginning to give up hope, Mickey lurched out a door way. When he saw the Torino he made a pathetic attempt to run. Starsky slowed enough for Hutch to get out, and continued to position the car ahead of Mickey. He got out and started to walk back along the sidewalk. Mickey was surrounded, and even if he had been capable of making a break for it, he stood no chance.
“It’s OK Mickey, “Hutch shouted, “we want to ask you something. Hey Starsk, what about that beer you promised me.”
“OK Let’s go in here, shall we.”
Starsky and Hutch took position either side of Mickey and lifted him imperceptibly off the ground and guided him into the bar.
The bar stank of stale beer, three-day-old French fries and the kind of smell that indicated that someone had slept in his clothes at least last night if not the night before.
They pushed Mickey to a table and Starsky signaled for three beers. The waitress put the glasses on the table, and Hutch immediately put Mickey’s just out of reach.
“You won’t be able to help us if you’re drunk, will you Mickey.” He said with a smile.
“I don’t know anything about it.”
“We haven’t asked you yet.” Starsky snarled. “Besides I never believe a snitch who claims not to know anything! Now Mickey, we want to know if you have heard about the new lady doctor in the neighborhood. She’s nice to young ladies in trouble, and I’ll bet she’s generous with prescriptions too. She would probably even find some alcohol for a drunk.”
Mickey looked from Hutch to the glass of beer. The two cops smiled and in unison picked up their own glasses and took a couple of long swallows. Starsky looked mock-appreciatively at his glass. “Hey for a dump like this the beer ain’t bad. What do you think Hutch?”
Hutch took another gulp and looked thoughtful. “You know Starsk, you’re right. Hey Mickey you should try it.”
Mickey knew he was defeated.
“OK. Nobody really knows who she is. She appeared about a month ago. The diploma on her wall is foreign.”
“Foreign? “Hutch raised his eyebrows. “What language?”
“I don’t know, but it ain’t in English!”

Starsky stood up. He shoved Mickey his glass and fished a couple of dollars out of his pocket. “Mickey, I think you just rang the bell in my head. If this leads to a bust, you’ll get a big reward. I promise.” He looked at Hutch “Well come on, don’t tell me you want to finish that stuff!”
In the car he told Hutch what the bell in his head was ringing about. Robbins had been out of sight seven maybe eight years, long enough to learn some medical techniques. If the diploma was foreign they needed to find out where it came from. He pulled up in front of Wade’s office.

The receptionist was not the same girl as the last time. Hutch showed her his badge and asked her if the doctor had anyone with her, she shook her head. Starsky was in the office before the girl had time to react.

Dr Wade was arranging the papers on her desk, just a little too calmly. Starsky went to the wall behind her and pulled the diploma from its hook. He looked at it and handed it to Hutch. “I don’t know much about foreign languages, but I do know that in Swedish they write the letter ‘o’ like that.”
Hutch took the frame from him. “You’re right, it is Swedish.”
Wade was standing behind Starsky; Hutch just had time to see the blade flash in her hand. He lunged towards her but he could not stop the scalpel from making a nasty nick in the leather flying jacket. Starsky pulled his arm back instinctively, and seeing that the damage was only to the leather sleeve and not his arm, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“I think you have some explaining to do, doctor.“ Hutch said as he turned her around and put the cuffs on her wrists. He pushed her more roughly than was perhaps necessary and guided her out of the door and past the receptionist. “I guess you can take the rest of the day off,” Hutch said in passing. Starsky held the passenger door open, he had already folded the seat to allow Wade to get into the back of the car; he made no effort to make it easier for her. Slamming the seat down again he bowed to Hutch and skipped round to the driver’s side. Knowing how uncomfortable it could be for a passenger in the back, Starsky took a grim delight in taking a couple of turns just a tad faster than necessary.

In the squad room Hutch pushed Wade down onto a chair while Starsky settled himself leaning at a precarious angle against a filing cabinet.

“You have no right to arrest me. I demand to see my lawyer.”
Hutch sat down and looked at her across the desk. “You are not under arrest. I simply restrained you in order to prevent a further attempted assault on my partner. I have not read you your rights. You are not under arrest.”

“Yet!” Starsky’s voice was low, but emphatic.

“So, Doctor Wade, or whoever you are……….”
“My name is Rose Wade. I have a degree in medicine from Stockholm University, that’s in Sweden………….”
“We may not be doctors ma’am, “Starsky’s voice was still on the same even note, “but we did go to school and I even listened in geography class from time to time.”
“……..I have a fully accredited medical degree…….”
“Then why does the AMA have no record of you?” This time it was Hutch who spoke.
The other cops in the room fell silent, ready for a game of ‘Starsky and Hutch interrogation Ping Pong’. They knew that the suspect would soon fall foul of the way the partners tossed the routine between them. She would be all the more thrown off balance by the constant necessity to look from one cop to the other – just like watching a game of ping pong.
“And why,” Starsky continued without missing a beat, “the traffic department and the social security haven’t ever heard of you either.”
“I have a perfect right to …”
“Not without AMA approval you don’t.” this time it was Hutch who anticipated her protests.

Starsky pulled himself upright and wandered over to the water fountain. He served himself and then turned and slowly drained the goblet, never taking his eyes off Dr Wade. Still fixing her with his stare he crumpled the goblet and threw it into the trash can. He took a step closer and leaned forward.
“I would also like to know why you deny having a brother Doctor Wade, because I have a photo here of your spitting image.” He pulled the file on Robbins out from under a pile of papers and shoved the photo towards her.
She stared at him and then looked at Hutch. “Your partner seems to have a fertile imagination, Officer Starsky.” Hutch shook his head. “I’m Hutchinson, he’s Starsky. And no ma’am, his imagination is pretty average.” Starsky shot him a fuck you look.
“My partner here, does, however have a very vivid temper, and I would not advise you to insult him. He can be a perfect gentleman, but not if he’s insulted.”
Starsky went back to his slouch against the cabinet and smiled with his mouth only. He winked at her, dead pan. “So, Dr Wade, as I was saying, this young man really does look very like you, doesn’t he? What do you think Hutch?”
Hutch pretended to see the photo for the first time. “Starsk, that’s amazing; I’d say they were twins.”
“No, partner, they’re not twins. Well not in any conventional way anyhow.”
Hutch pretended to be confused – the guys were going into phase two of their technique; one played ‘confused’ and the other played ‘I have all the answers’.
Starsky continued in the tone of voice that a teacher may take when explaining a not too complicated subject to a D-average student.
“Barry Robbins did a stretch in the county mental hospital for trying to stab his girl friend. When he was released he disappeared, just like that. “Starsky clicked his fingers. “While he was institutionalized he studied. He got his High School certificate and he showed a lot of aptitude for sciences; in fact he even told the doctor in charge of his case that he wished he could be a doctor too. Well now Barry knew that no medical school in the US would accept him because he’d done time in the nuthouse.”

He paused and looked at Wade who registered no reaction to the story he was telling.

“Barry Robbins applied for a passport six months after ‘graduating’ his institution. He bought a ticket for Stockholm….and he disappeared.”

Wade began to look less confident. She asked Hutch for some water and Starsky waited until she had been served before continuing. The tone of his voice did not alter.

“Now I called the doctor who treated Robbins, and he told me something very interesting. In fact he told me two things. One, Robbins had tried to stab his girlfriend because she did not want to continue her pregnancy.” Hutch glanced up at his partner, and for a brief moment Starsky was sure he saw a look of pain in his friend’s eyes. He made a mental note to talk to about it Ken later. He continued: “Two, Robbins confessed that he had never been happy in his male body. In fact he was aware that people called him a queer behind his back. Getting the girlfriend pregnant had been a triumph for him to prove he was ‘normal’ (whatever that means when I guy is in a mental institution) but at the same time he was revolted by it. He wanted the girlfriend to have the baby to prove his masculinity in front of the people who called him a queer. By the end of his therapy, Barry had come to realize that he was really a woman trapped in a male body.”
“A transvestite” said Hutch.
“No, not a transvestite, he never dressed in women’s clothes, but a transsexual.”
“Sweden!” Hutch made the connection.
“That’s right. In Sweden, Barry could be released from the male body he hated and given a female body. After all the process was over he enrolled at the medical faculty under the name of Rose Wade.” He smiled at Wade, “I particularly like the choice of name, so appropriate for a doctor who was going to offer abortions.”

Wade started to stand up, but Hutch gently pushed her back. “I think you should let my partner finish.”

“Doctor Wade came back to the States, and came to California where we are so much more open-minded than say……..”
“Don’t say it!” Hutch knew exactly which town Starsky had in mind!
“She set up a clinic and started advising the down and outs and the desperate. It was a good cover; she got a reputation for being a good listener and soon her real prey came within reach. Young women who don’t want to stay pregnant need good listeners, don’t they doctor? You counseled them and you booked them into a small clinic. There, you carried out the abortion. But in some cases that was not enough, was it, doctor? I have to admit I’m curious. Why did you only kill three of them?”

“They were trash.” She spat the words out. “They didn’t care. A baby was just a nuisance to them.”

“So they had to die. But I still need to know why you didn’t kill the others.”
“I didn’t kill the ones who felt bad about what they were doing. I didn’t kill the ones who needed an abortion, because they already had too many children or a husband that beat them or maybe they’d been raped all the very real reasons why no one has the right to deny a woman the control of her own body. But the others…they just saw it as a back up if the pill didn’t work. Some of them didn’t even take precautions in the first place, for some of them it wasn’t the first time. Trash!”

Hutch stopped her. “Wait a minute, how many have you killed?”
“Ten, twenty what does it matter, they were all trash.”
“It matters to their families. It matters to the people who wonder where they are. It matters to me and to my partner here,” Hutch pointed to Starsky who was on his way to the water cooler again. “It will also matter to the Judge and the Jury, because it will matter when they decide what to do with you.”

“I’ll be found criminally insane. I have a prior record.”

Starsky took a sip of water: “No you don’t. Barry Robbins has a prior record. Rose Wade has no record in America.”
She sank back on her chair, defeated. Starsky started to recite ‘Miranda’ “You have the right to remain silent…………………”
While he was reciting the rights of the arrested, Hutch took a clean report sheet and rolled it into the typewriter. “Are you sure you want to do it?” Starsky asked him.
“Yes.” “Well just step outside for a second willya; there’s something I need to know before you start.”

The two of them stepped into the corridor. Starsky put his arm around Hutch’s shoulder. “I just want to be sure about your position on this.” “What do you mean, my ‘position’?” “Well I don’t know but it seems to me that you are a little uptight about abortion rights. Me I think that a woman has a right to choose. Now I’m not saying that she shouldn’t make sure that she doesn’t get pregnant if she doesn’t want to, but if it happens then it’s up to her. Nine times out of ten, she’s the only one making the decision because the father’s up and gone – if he knew he was a father. I just thought I saw a look in your eye that came from Duluth, if you see what I mean.”
Hutch didn’t know what to say. He thought about it for a few moments. “Well I guess, if I really think about I think it’s wrong. It’s a life and….” “And?” “…and, hell Starsk we don’t really know when the fetus starts to know what’s going on.” “No we don’t. But we do know when it can survive outside the womb, and that’s when abortion is no longer legal.” “Ok, I see your point.” “Oh and I see yours; Maybe there isn’t a right and a wrong in this one, but I’m sure of one thing, it’s not people like her (he nodded to the woman the other side of the glass) to judge. Now are you going to book her or shall I?”
“I think I’d rather you did.”
“That’s fine. Oh and if ever you want to talk… that’s what friends are for.”
“Talk about what?”
“That’s for you tell me if you ever want to, isn’t it.”

Starsky went back into the squad room and sat at the typewriter.
“OK, where shall we start?”

It took one hour forty five minutes for Wade to give a full confession. The final tally was sixteen women in three states. Starsky typed her statement in stony silence, not allowing the slightest hint of what he thought or felt. When it was finished, and Wade had read and signed the pages, Starsky led her down to be processed. He watched as she was photographed and given a number, he stood by while each of her fingerprints was recorded on the pad. He watched all this with the same impassive look that he’d had while he listened to her. Just as the guard started to lead her to the cells Starsky went over to her. “I have one more question.” “Yes?” “The last one. Why did you put her baby on her breast?” “Because that’s what they do in Sweden, when a baby is born they put it on its mother’s breast so she can see it and touch it. That piece of trash had waited too long. The fetus could have survived, so I put it where it belonged. Her baby was the last thing she saw before she died.”
Starsky couldn’t think of anything to say. He turned and walked away. Then he stopped and turned back. “I have one more thing to say to you, this might come as a surprise but I hope they don’t execute you I hope they put you away for ever.”
He went back up to find Hutch;

His partner was reading the statement and he had obviously got to the last victim. His face was haggard and there were tears streaming down his cheeks. Starsky went over to him and gently took the paper out of his hand. “I told you not to look. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”

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