Gillian looked at him. She was still smiling and trying to pretend that she made her living writing. Starsky glanced at the paper in the typewriter – even he could do better than that. In fact he was trying to think up a good script for explaining all this to Hutch.
“Hutch told me you wanted to open a boutique….”
Gillian took the envelope and Starsky held his breath;
“Why are you doing this, Dave?”
“I saw you. I pulled back a curtain and I saw you. I have to protect Hutch…from
you and from the harm you can do to him.”
“What harm could I do to him? I love him…”
“Maybe you do; and maybe you see a way to get clear of these people then
maybe start up on your own account. I don’t know…and to be honest
I don’t want to.”
She started to say something but he silenced her with a stare.
“Hear me out. I don’t know what you feel; but I’ve known Hutch
long enough to see that he is in love with you. Really in love…and he
is very vulnerable.”
“Vulnerable?”
“He’s a cop. He thinks he wants to marry you. Now I don’t
know if you’ve noticed, but cops are there to uphold the law and hookers…well
hookers don’t exactly have legal work contracts if you see what I mean.”
“I’m not a hooker!”
“Oh then what do you do for a living, Gillian.” He pulled the sheet
from the typewriter. “I mean this is hardly Pulitzer Prize stuff is it?
Looks more like your hour-sheet. Is that how they pay you…by the hour?
I mean look at this place. Struggling writers don’t have paintings like
that on the wall…they can’t afford high rent places like this Gillian.
But a high rent call-girl can!”
“So, if I take the money?”
“If you take the money, you go away from here….go back east; go
to Mexico; anyplace…but leave LA. I don’t have any more. It isn’t
an installment. If you try to come back I’ll make sure that you go straight
to the County Jail - it’s not quite as comfortable as this place.”
He turned his deadpan stare on her. “I’ll do anything to protect
Hutch from you; understand that Gillian; anything!”
She turned and put the envelope into her purse.
“How long do I have to leave town?”
“Pack what you need; I’ll take you to the airport.”
Grossman arrived in front of the apartment building in time to see the Torino
pull away. He didn’t see that the blonde in the passenger seat was Gillian
– not Hutch.
Starsky drove to the airport in grim silence. He
pulled up in front of the American Airlines terminal. Gillian started to open
the door but he leaned across her and pulled it shut again. He put his face
close to hers…she could smell his aftershave and even his toothpaste.
“Buy a ticket to the East Coast. Go to New York. If you can’t find
work…” he pulled his notepad out of his pocket and scribbled a ‘phone
number on it. “Friend of the family. He’ll look after you if you
say I sent you.”
“Dave, I…what about Hutch?”
“Don’t worry about him – I know how to handle him. Oh and
Gillian.” He opened the door as he spoke. “If you try to contact
him; I’ll know and I’ll make sure that you don’t succeed.”
“He’s lucky. He has someone like you to love him and watch over
him.”
“He does the same for me.”
He watched her walk into the terminal.
******************************************
Grossman opened the door of the apartment and called for Gillian. When she didn’t reply he went into the bedroom and found that her clothes had gone. In a fit of uncontrolled rage he wrecked the room. His mother arrived in time to see him slashing the expensive leather couch then throw himself on the floor and to finish his temper tantrum.
“That little bitch!” Mrs. Grossman sat down and stroked her son’s hair. “You are better of without her Al. A worthless hooker; who saw her chance and ran. There are plenty more where she came from; especially in a town like this. You are going to be a very powerful man, Al. Now, pull yourself together and we will go home. She stood up and while Al brought himself under control she inspected the apartment to make sure that no trace of Gillian’s relationship with the Grossmans was to be seen.
***********************************
Starsky was ready for it…but the punch hurt
all the same…and he hadn’t expected his partner to aim so low. He
stayed curled up in ball nursing his groin and trying to remember how to breathe.
He heard Hutch slam the door.
Starsky wiped the tears of pain from his eyes and stood up carefully…no
date for him tonight! He went down the steps outside his house as carefully
as possible and slid behind the wheel of the Torino. He took off in pursuit
of Hutch.
“This is Zebra Three with a stripe; patch
me through to the wreck willya please?”
Mildred’s voice came on the line.
“I guess that means you guys aren’t in the same car.”
“Too right – and I need to talk to him before he does something
even dumber than he’s done already.”
“I heard that!”
Mildred cut herself out of the connection – but not before they heard
her say to someone else “so how much do you want to bet one of ‘em
gets a black eye?”
“Hutch willya slow down and pull off someplace so we can talk!”
“Talk about what? Buddy!”
“Talk about Gillian and what she is.”
The silence was followed by the beep that signaled that Hutch had switched off
his radio. Starsky swore and concentrated on the road ahead. He knew Hutch inside
out, back to front, and upside down; he just had to follow his instinct.
He followed it all the way to Venice and parked behind Hutch’s car. He
ran up the stairs and banged on the door.
“You’d better come in. We can’t
fight on the stairs.”
“Scared of what the neighbors will say?”
“Shut up and get inside.”
Hutch sat on a chair in his kitchen and re-filled
his glass; Starsky shook his head and sighed before helping himself to a beer.
“Listen to me. Hear me out and then decide if we’re still friends.
The when you’ve decided you do what you like – hug me or hit me
– whatever, but remember I did it because I am your friend”
Hutch shrugged and drained the scotch in his glass. He poured another shot.
“I’m listening.”
“When we were at Grossman’s I wanted a massage; remember? I looked behind a curtain and Gillian was with a Councilor ********; they were not discussing the city budget Hutch! I didn’t want you to find out. I took my savings and I paid her to get out of town. She didn’t want to…I think she really does love you …but she understood that it ain’t good for a cop’s career to be married to a hooker.”
Hutch looked up. Starsky was looking as dejected
as he felt.
“I love you Hutch. You’re the best friend I ever had. Do you think
I’d do a thing like that if I didn’t care about what happens to
you? You wanna slug me – go ahead.”
He stood up and pushed his chin forward as an easy target.
Hutch smiled. “I know you did what you believed to be right; and you know
what Starsk? I trust you more than I trust anyone else in the world. I trust
your judgment. If you say that it was better that way…I know that it is.”
He stood up and enveloped Starsky in a bear hug.
“How much?”
“How much what?”
“How much did you pay her?”
“Fifteen hundred.”
“I’ll pay you back; a hundred at a time OK?”
Starsky said nothing and hugged Hutch again.
“Whatever you want Blondie…but I’m not that kind of boy!”