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Al and Dave were drinking beer in the car lot office.
“What are you going to do about a job?”
“Dunno. I have an appointment with some desk-jockey about what the army likes to call ‘post-service orientation’.” He said the last three words with an air of sarcasm that made them both laugh. “I guess they reckon if they bring you back alive they should do something. If they don’t have any sensible ideas I guess I’ll have to look at the want ads. I feel OK driving but I don’t think the cab company would take me back right now. But I need to find something I can fit in with my rehab sessions. I still have about a month to go.”
“I can always find something for you, Dave.”
“Yeah…I might just have to take you up on that Uncle Al. I want to find myself a place of my own. No offense; you and Rosa have been wonderful to me ever since…since I came out here; but I guess after ‘Nam I need to be on my own a little.”

“Have you ever thought about college Lieutenant?”
He looked at the young career Captain sitting behind the desk. Pure ROTC from college; what was that line Jodie had ‘the army put me through college now I’m paying them back’? He’s safe enough – behind his desk – probably only ever fired blanks in his life.
“Yeah, I thought about it. I could’ve had a try-out for a football scholarship but I didn’t want to have to do the school work. Maybe I should have taken it – worst that could have happened would have been that my knees got wrecked!” He smiled.
“And now? You qualify under the GI Bill.”
“To study what? I wasn’t that good at High School except in Math. Anyway after what I’ve seen in the past few years I guess I wouldn’t have much in common with the other kids.”
“What did you do before you were called up?”
“I don’t think you want to know.”
He stood up. “Thanks for trying to help, but I’ve always made my own way – I guess I’ll find something.”

He was right; the cab company said ‘no’. He managed to talk them into reconsidering in six months after he’d had more rehab. He wasn’t convinced that they’d take him back then either – but he had to keep his hopes alive.

He found a job in a diner – back to being a short order cook. But after a couple of weeks he found that standing still was more painful than moving about – and as he couldn’t wait table with a stick he had to quit. He swallowed his pride and, sending up a silent prayer that his dad would understand, he went back to see Al. Al sent him to Benny and he was soon adding to his little nest egg.

The stick was less and less of a necessity, but it had its uses. Even the lowest rat in the sewers that Dave and Harvey went to clean up for Benny was reluctant to take on a guy who leaned heavily on a stick when he walked. Unfortunately for the rats, Dave didn’t have the same qualms…once their backs were turned he used it to trip them up and help them fall into Harvey’s arms – then Dave would demonstrate some of the hand-to-hand skills the army had taught him, as well as the basics that John had shown him all those years ago.

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Dave and Harvey made a good team. Harvey relied on his muscles; Dave had more subtle powers of persuasion.
He had a quiet menace that reduced most of the men Benny sent him after to quivering wrecks ready to hand over their grandmothers in payment.
Harvey loved watching him in action.

They were visiting a local bookie who was taking a little more than his allotted percentage. Dave went in first. He entered the bar quietly and ambled over to the bar to order a beer. “Would you be so sweet as to bring it over to that booth for me – I can’t really hold things too well; see I’m a leftie and …” he glanced down at the stick and flashed her a lop-sided grin.
He settled into the booth opposite the door to the back room where the action was going down. The waitress brought him his beer and he tipped her a dime over the price; and gave her another of his winning smiles.

A couple of minutes later Harvey came in; he knocked over a table and roughed up the bar tender who tried to block him from the door to the back room. As soon as Harvey was inside; Dave stood up and walked over to the same door. He twirled his stick like a majorette and rapped on the door with the curve of the handle. When the door opened the man on the other side found out how well Dave’s left shoulder had healed.

Once inside Dave settled on the edge of the table and leaned towards the bookie. He glanced at Harvey, who was cracking his knuckles and holding the other “body guard” down with his foot. The clientele stayed in their seats – fascinated and horrified and too terrified to try to leave.

“How much did you take yesterday Lennie?” Dave’s voice was even and low.
“Let me see know…” He picked up the bookie’s ledger and ran a finger down one of the columns of figures. He made a rapid (and accurate) calculation and whistled. “Looks like you took fifty-five Gs. Lennie. Now let me see. What’s the percentage Benny gives you?”
He leaned forward and stared into Lennie’s eyes. His cold dark blue gaze seemed to pin Lenny to the chair.
“S..s…sixteen.”
“Mmhmm. Sixteen percent of fifty five that’s…” he stared up at the ceiling as if seeking the answer, “that’s eight and eight points, in other words eight thousand eight hundred. Am I right Lennie?”
Lennie licked dry lips and nodded.
“I didn’t hear you Lennie?”
Harvey cracked his knuckles again. “Yea…you’re right…eight and eight.”
“Good, glad my math is right.” Another cold smile. “Now fifty five minus eight’n’eight that leaves forty six two…am I right Lennie?”
“Yeah.”
“Come again.”
“YEAH.”
“And when Benny counted his takings last night there was only thirty eight five; which means that someone must have kept back a little extra,” he paused and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling before focusing back on his victim, “about four thousand one hundred extra if I’m calculating right – which means that someone…” He treated Lennie to his broadest; blankest smile. “…someone kept a cool twelve nine…and that sounds more like twenty three percent and counting. What do you reckon Harvey?”
“You know I would’ve flunked Math if you hadn’t done it for me.”
“Oh yes, I forgot. My cousin Harvey over there – he wasn’t too good at school; he was good in the ring though – weren’t you Harvey?”
Lennie swallowed hard.
“Look, we c..c..can come to some kind of agreement here boys. I mean I guess someone made a mistake in the counting…Let me go see what’s in the safe.”
Dave followed him – closely, very closely. Lennie could feel his breath on the back of his neck and the steady tap, tap of the stick did nothing to increase his self-confidence.
He opened a small wall safe and pulled out a buff envelope. Dave took the envelope and peeped inside. “Sit down Lennie, while I count it. And keep your hands on the table where I can see them.”
He ran a finger along the edge of the notes and smiled. The stick came down hard on Lennie’s knuckles. He yelped. “Where’s the rest of it Lennie? There’s only ten here!”
Harvey pushed his foot down to stop the fallen body guard from trying to come to Lennie’s aid.
Dave raised his stick again; then lowered it and placed it on the table.
“I don’t really need this anymore. Do you know how I got it? I’ll tell ya. I got it in ‘Nam; but not before I learned a lot of things about hand-to–hand combat if you see what I mean. I hurt my arm too – but it’s all healed. And when Harvey and I used to arm wrestle – guess who won.”
He reached over and pulled Lennie’s arm up into a painful twist. “Wanna find out just how strong I am, Lennie?”
Lennie shook his head. “In the drawer.” Dave released his arm and walked over to the table in front of the bookie’s board. He opened the drawer and smiled like a kid who just found all his birthday gifts. He took out a roll of bills.
“Ok Harvey; I guess we’ve done all we need to here.” He picked up his stick and started to the door. He waited for Harvey to leave the room in front of him then turned back to grin around the door-frame. “Oh Lenny; get yourself an accountant.”
He hooked the door with his stick and closed it with a careful click.

The two cousins left the bar without a word. They got into Dave’s new car.
It was a low-slung custom job that looked as if someone had cut in half a car from a thirties gangster film and joined it to a stock car. It was a weird shade of blue with white flames painted along the wheel arches. Merle had really done a great job and Dave had been happy to part with his money “on one condition.”
“What’s that man?”
“Re-do the interior. I like plain black – leather if you can get it but leather-look will do just fine.” Merle had shaken his head in disbelief and set to removing the fake tiger-skin from the seats and dashboard.

Dave and Harvey headed for Benny’s office and handed over the missing takings. Benny counted it out and made three even piles. He slid one pile into his desk and nodded to the two young men – “you earned it.”

This little payment meant that Dave could go ahead and put down the advanced rent on the two-room apartment over a garage in a leafy street in North Hollywood.
Rosa made her usual fuss the day he packed all his stuff into two cartons and his kit-bag; but he accepted the tuna and pineapple curry casserole without a murmur.

He inaugurated his new trashcan with an unappetizing glop that even the neighborhood’s stray dog refused to eat. He loaded his fridge with beer and cold cuts and cheese and settled down to life as a bachelor in the still-swinging seventies.

Dr Laurence came by for more than just the usual kind of house-call. For about six weeks they had taken up where they had left off back in Hawaii. Then she’d announced that she was getting engaged to an intern from Memorial and Dave kissed her sweetly and asked if she would still come when he needed a shot.
As a farewell present she took him down to a new nursery she’d found and bought him a very special pot plant.
“”Just in case I’m not available.”
“I’ve stopped that kind of thing…”
“It’s a pretty plant, Dave…”
“Yeah; it will always remind me of you.” He gave her his best ‘Paul Muni’ smile and watched her drive away.

There were times when it hurt enough to use the dried leaves; but he did his best to limit himself to Camels. He kept the engraved Zippo with the pouch of dried leaves and lit his cigarettes with matches. He went on working for Benny but took a legitimate job when the cab company finally agreed that their insurance would cover him.

Soon he didn’t need the stick at all – not even as a prop when he was collecting Benny’s debts. He was walking as normally as he ever would. He started running and went to a local gym a couple of times before he decided that he preferred the beach and the footpaths in the canyons to the smell of other men’s sweat. Most people who saw him would never know that he’d been near-crippled for a year and that he had almost lost a leg. Women he made love to would trace his fading scars and ask how he got them – he edited the story according to how he felt about the woman who’d asked.

It was Al who said that his strange slightly bow-legged limping gait reminded him of Marilyn Monroe "or maybe Mae West."

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

He had two near-misses. Two occasions when he nearly found himself trapped or imprisoned. The first was a near fall into the “tender trap”. He had been dating a girl for about six months when her mother started planning the wedding.

It was while before Dave started dating anyone for more than a one night stand.

The second near-miss was more dangerous.

Benny had interests in a great many activities – some more legal than others.
He also had friends who were glad to be able to call on the two cousins to clear up a few ‘misunderstandings’. One of these friends was the owner of a massage parlor which was a cover for his call-girl stable. Some of Sal’s activities had attracted the attention of the local Vice Squad.

Harvey and Dave had been escorting a group of hand-picked call-girls to their appointments for some time. The girls were hired to lighten the atmosphere at boring board-room meetings – or to sweeten a deal or two. When the deals weren’t going the way Sal wanted them to he was in the habit of sending photographs to the client in question, showing in graphic detail some of the services that Sal had provided him with. Dave turned out to be very good photographer. He was also very persuasive when he showed the stars their photos.

He was on his way to discuss some interesting photos with a well-known politician when he spotted the cops. They had to be cops…they looked totally out of place in their smart shirts and ties, and one of them was even wearing a hat! Dave pulled back and scanned the motel parking lot. There they were, standing around a car; and the guy using the mike was none other than John Blaine. Dave thought quickly. The last thing he needed was for Blaine to spot him here. He hadn’t seen the older man for years – but he would never forget the way Blaine had taught him to fight when he was still a shy nervous and defensive refugee from New York. He couldn’t bear the idea that Blaine find out about his current activities. He slipped into an alleyway and ran to where his car was parked a block away.

When the cops moved in Dave was safely back in his apartment.

It made him think for a while. But he needed to work and Benny paid him well enough to keep him in a manner that he was getting accustomed to – and that a cabbie’s pay wouldn’t support. He called Benny and told him the situation.
“I guess I’d better lie low for a while Benny – wait until Blaine has finished whatever it is he’s starting.”
“Wise move Dave. What do you know about Blaine?”
“He looked out for me when I was a kid. When I first got out here…I couldn’t fight well enough and he taught me all he knew. He’s a good guy, Benny. A good cop too. I guess he reminded me of my dad.”
“Can you get close enough o find out how much he has on Sal?”
“I don’t know Benny. I mean I haven’t seen him since I was in High School. I think I called him to say I was called up but…”
“Dave, if Sal goes down I won’t complain. See what you can find out and we might give your friend a little help.”
“I dunno…I….”
“Don’t worry – he’ll never know that you are connected to me. That’s a promise.”
“OK…I’ll see what I can find out.”

Things didn’t work out quite how he planned it, but Dave got his opportunity to see Blaine.

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

Ever since Calley had been sentenced for the My Lai massacres and then given the easy option of house arrest by Nixon the press was searching for evidence of US Army brutalities – if it wasn’t trying to prove that Calley was an aberration! Dave had picked up a copy of one of the news magazines and a name caught his eye. Thorn. The article suggested that Thorn had been arrested while in a military hospital for his part in another massacre – but the Army insisted that he had been arrested for theft and trafficking in stolen arms. Dave looked at the photo of the bastard who had nearly cost him his leg and sat back to think.
He picked up the ‘phone and asked enquiries to find John Blaine’s number and asked for the address. His mentor still lived in the same suburb that he’d moved out to when Dave was a kid. His wife answered the phone.
“Hi Margaret, remember me…Dave Starsky.”
She remembered him. “I guess you want to speak to John?” He heard her call into the another room and a couple of seconds later Blaine’s familiar voice came onto the line.
“Dave; what can I do for you? Last I heard you were called up.”
“Yeah…it’s kind of about that…I need to see you. Can we meet someplace?”
Blaine named a bar and they arranged to meet later that evening.

Starsky was sitting in opposite Blaine in a bar booth; he had a glass of beer in front of him but so far he hadn’t touched it.

“They trained me as a sharp-shooter. I did pretty well after I learned not to see them as human beings but as ‘the enemy’. I serve my time; did my job. Just another enlisted man; you know what they called us…’the grunts’.”
He told Blaine the story of how he’d ended up as an officer instead of a grunt.
“There are plenty of officers who don’t like guys like me. I got caught up with one of them – and he didn’t like me for other reasons. He was a racist bastard and an anti-Semite and he’d surrounded himself with a little private platoon of men who felt the same way.
What I’m telling you, John, is that Calley wasn’t the only one.
My platoon had been attacked and there weren’t many of us left – we were assigned to patrol with his group. Right from the start he treated me like the enlisted man I really am. He refused to let me give orders and he tried to over-ride anything I told my men. The guys in my group – we’d worked together since we first got to ‘Nam – they didn’t care if I was Lieutenant, they called me Dave.
They said that the enemy was operating near a village. We’d heard of villages that were really VC camps. We started to sweep the area. And we found a village.
There wasn’t an enemy soldier to be seen. It was a perfectly normal village; some of the people probably hated us and some of them liked us and most of them couldn’t give a flying fuck as long as they were left alone.”
He stared ahead as he told John everything that he’d seen that day when nightmares came true.
“They did terrible things John…I…I can’t…”
He choked and took a deep swallow of beer.
"Then the woman and the kids ran out of a hut at the edge of the village. Somehow they must have stayed hidden and they thought they could make a break for it. I knew enough Vietnamese to warn them; I got hold of one of the kids and we ran like hell. I felt the bullet. I don’t know what happened after that – I don’t even know who of my group survived to be the witness for my medals. But I do know who shot me. He was the other guy’s right hand man – Sergeant Billy Thorn. And now his face is in the papers because a journalist doesn’t believe the Army’s version of why they arrested him.”

They sat in silence. Dave was fighting back the tears at the memories of the terrible things he’d witnessed; Blaine was stunned.

“And so you came to me for advice…not to one of your new friends?”
“What does that mean?”
“I saw you the other day; be careful of the company you keep.”
“I guess it’s too late for that.”
“It’s never too late. Remember your dad…do you want to go down in an alley?”
“That was a low shot.”
“OK. I’ll see what I can find out about from the journalist…and then what Dave?”
“Maybe I’ll tell him the truth too.”

They started to talk about other things.

Dave managed to find out that the cops weren’t interested in Benny. He also learned how Benny might be able to arrange Sal’s downfall. He absorbed the information without letting Blaine see that it registered with him.
They stood up to leave. “I’ll call you when I know a bit more Dave.”

A couple of days later Sal was arrested. Two days after that Blaine called Dave.
“I’ve found out all I can. Apparently there was another eye-witness; he pinned Thorn just before he died…he told the MPs that he’d seen Thorn fire on an American Officer. Thorn would be up for a Court Martial if they had enough evidence. I found out where you need to go to give your deposition.” He gave an address.

The next day Dave dressed in his old uniform and set out for the JAG offices.
He saluted, removed his cap and gave his name to the young woman at the desk. She directed him to the office he needed and he started down the corridor. As soon as he saw the name on the Assistant Investigating Officer’s door he turned and left the JAG building.

Blaine called to find out how he’d got on.
“I didn’t testify.”
“What?”
“I couldn’t; I saw who the assistant investigating officer was….”
He never mentioned the incident again.

That evening he opened the drawer and smoked a hand-rolled cigarette.

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

He was working for Benny full-time now; he gave up the cab with no real regrets.
He and Harvey were still a team – but Benny liked to send Dave out on his own from time to time. He could trust Dave not to use violence unless he really had to. The only thing that bothered Benny was that the ex-Army sharp-shooter refused to carry a gun.
Dave’s powers of persuasion were all he needed. If he had to he knew exactly how to exert just enough pain to get what he wanted. He rarely left a mark on his victims…there were even guys who hoped that if Benny ever got mad with them he’d send Dave.

He was also a tight driver. He could get a car out of any situation; he knew his way round the alleys and streets of the neighborhoods where Benny operated and nothing seemed to bother him if he was at the wheel. It had to happen; Benny wanted him to drive Arnie to deal with what he called a ‘discipline problem.’ Dave knew what that meant – but he couldn’t refuse. He sat in the car and waited with the engine running. Arnie did what he had to do and Dave took off into the night. He didn’t see the light turn until it was too late and before he and Arnie knew it they had a siren and flashing lights behind them. Dave swung the car to the left and the lights flashed behind him. The carried on in a crazy game of tag until Dave finally lost the cop. He simply turned into a parking lot and slipped into a space and killed the lights. The cop’s car slid past and disappeared out of the north side exit. Dave started her up and left by the south side exit. He took Arnie back to Benny and collected his reward.

Unfortunately Arnie didn’t do his job well enough and three days later he and Benny were found in a car in a supermarket parking lot. Both had taken a single bullet in the back of the head. Without Benny the organization started to fall apart and Dave found himself back behind the wheel of a cab. He still had a few errands from time to time – but it was beginning to leave a sour taste in his mouth.

His nightmares came back. The jungle and the alley merged in his mind. He sat on his sofa fingering his medals and thinking of his dad.

He reached over and picked up the ‘phone.

“John, It’s Dave. Do you have the number for the Police Academy?”

He was accepted for the next intake and decided to take the risk and go to New York to tell him mom the news in person. The last thing she said to him at the airport the day he left was “They’re going to make you cut your hair.”

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