Past Regrets and Future Fears

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Ah, my beloved, fill the cup that clears
Today of past regrets and future fears;
Tomorrow? Why, tomorrow I may be,
Myself, with yesterday's sev'n thousand years.

Omar Kayam

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

Somewhere along the journey, he'd picked up a tail.

At least he wasn't dead in a dark alley. Starsky was a Mother Hen, and
that was fine. But for fuck's sake. Hutch was no rookie. He'd scoped
out the meet pretty carefully ahead of time, and it seemed legit. The
informant was a hooker. Also, she was a strung out junkie. He could
recognize the signs of that a mile away. Had she been paid to pass on
the information? Entirely possible, but that didn't mean the
information was false.

Maddy, his informant told him, had accepted a large fee to go back to the trailer in
the canyon, which only showed the stupid bitch was out of her tiny
little mind. But what could you do? Hookers were hookers. They hooked
for a living. Fucking one john was much like fucking another. All
johns were dangerous, if you got right down to it. All men were
dangerous. Give me my money. Now, fuck off, pig.

He tried calling Starsky at work, but he'd left for home already. He
tried calling Starsky at home, but he wasn't there yet. He tried
calling Huggy and asking him to pass on a message, but the line was busy.

Then, he noticed the tail -- a generic black car, as anonymous looking
as possible. Compared to it, his own blue Mercedes stood out like...
well, like Starsky's red Torino in a funeral procession. The tail
pissed him off, and he tried to shake it, with no success. The guy was
good, he gave him that much.

The miles sped by. Before he knew it, they were out in the canyons.
He, and his faithful follower. If the man had meant him harm, surely by
now he would have delivered. By now, he must be aware that Hutch was on
to him, and he was making no bones about continuing to follow. For what
purpose?

Hutch pulled over to the side of the road, and drew his gun. He checked
the clip. All was well. The black car went on for a few yards, slowed
down, and pulled over in its turn. The passenger side door opened, and
a man stepped out. He was tall, and black, dressed in black jeans, and
a black leather jacket. Black seemed to be the theme, here. He walked
toward Hutch's car, with his hands held out in plain sight.

The guy was brave. Or he was stupid.   Or he had no fear of Hutch. Hutch
opened the driver side door of the Mercedes, so the car would be between
them as he stepped out. He slid slowly out of the car, and raised the
Magnum.

'Stop where you are,' he demanded. The black man did so. A little
breeze was blowing his scent toward Hutch. The man smelled of cigars. A
dreadful suspicion entered Hutch's soul.

'Who are you, and what do you want?' he asked.

The black man looked Hutch up and down very thoroughly, then studied his
face. 'Starsky was right,' he said. 'You are beautiful when you're angry.'

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

Hutch's Mercedes was miles behind them, hidden by brush. Spike -- what
kind of name was that? -- was driving the anonymous black coupe. The
engine wasn't anonymous. Hutch recognized the purr of a Rolls Royce
when he heard it.

'What can this bus do, tops?' he asked.

'I don't know,' said Spike. 'She never reached the limit yet. She
might, if this night turns out like I expect.'

'And just what is gonna happen tonight? In your august opinion? Do I
rate a program, or am I in the cheap seats?'

Spike grinned. 'Starsky said you can get pret-ty sarcastic when you're
pissed off.'

'Indeed?' asked Hutch. 'I like how Starsky tells you so much about me,
and tells me nothing at all about you.'

'I can guess the reason for that,' said Spike. 'Or, one of the
reasons. He figured I'd approve of you, and you'd disapprove of me.
Also, he hired me to follow you, so I needed to know something about
you, didn't I? You, on the other hand, had to remain in the dark.'

'Starsky hired you to follow me.' Hutch still had trouble swallowing
that fact.

'He said you had enemies, and no sense at all when it came to your own
safety.'

'I see,' said Hutch.

'Don't sound so bitter, Hutch. The guy worships the ground you walk on,
and that's nothing to sneeze at.'

'I know. I'm luckier than I deserve. But I don't like people going
behind my back. Even Starsky.'

Spike laughed. 'That must limit your sex life,' he commented.

Hutch ignored the cheap crack.

'Why don't you fill me in, as we drive,' he said. 'What is your
association with my partner?'

'We're old army buddies,' said Spike.

'I wasn't born yesterday,' Hutch noted.

'No, really. We're old army buddies. Not old lovers, if that's what
you were thinking.'

'I'm telling you what I'm thinking: Starsky picked an old army buddy to
spy on me.'

'To watch your back, because he couldn't watch it without being made.'

'An old army buddy. But not just any old army buddy, for any old
reason. There's a reason he picked you.'

'Perhaps,' said Spike. 'If there is, it's a long story.'

'And not a long story you intend to tell me,' said Hutch.

'If there is a long story, it wouldn't be entirely my long story to
tell, now would it?'

'You served in Viet Nam together. Something happened, and you owe him a
favour.'

Spike laughed. It wasn't what Hutch would have called a pleasant laugh.

'A favour,' said Spike. 'Yeah, I owe Starsky a favour. And I intend to
pay. That's all you need to know.'

Starsky, you have some 'splaining to do, thought Hutch.

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

Hutch, you have some 'splaining to do, thought Starsky.

Hutch, it seemed, had disappeared. Starsky tracked down the pathetic,
strung out hooker who was his informant.

'I told the pig to fuck off, and he did,' the hooker said. 'Now, you
fuck off.'

Starsky thought of slapping her. He wasn't a cop now, and couldn't be
accused of police brutality. The realization took the edge off any base
satisfaction he might have from being brutal. And the hooker wasn't the
villain in this piece.

'There was a guy following him,' she added, unexpectedly.

Starsky turned back, and studied her face. 'You sure?' he asked.

The hooker's eyes were empty, their spark lost many years ago, but they
took in everything, beyond a doubt. 'I can recognize a tail when I see
it,' she said. 'And the pig had a tail on him. Not sure if he knew it.'

'A black car?' asked Starsky. One could only hope.

'Black? No. A white car. Looked like a pig's car, to me. But what do
I know? I'm just a stupid junkie.'

Starsky handed her another twenty. 'Here,' he said. 'Buy a hit on me.'

'Gee thanks, pig,' said the hooker, not sounding very grateful.

A unmarked police car? Hutch would recognize one of those, wouldn't
he? You'd think?

Maybe not. People didn't always see danger in the familiar. Or they
thought they could handle any danger that came from the familiar. He'd
learned that, and a lot of other things, in Viet Nam.

'Remember the loot?' Oh, yeah. He remembered the loot. The lieutenant
hadn't been out of his mind for some weeks. It was ironic, he thought
-- if he understood the concept of irony properly. He liked things
clear and simple, and irony had never struck him as clear or simple.
Spike's lieutenant, and now his own lieutenant. Two beautiful,
honourable men, endangered by their beauty and their honour. They
hadn't been able to save Spike's lieutenant, but he was going to save
his own.

Not in the Torino, though. Hutch was right about something once in a
while. The Torino was rather, um, bright. It'd be noticeable out on
the canyon road. He pulled into a car rental place. A cheap car rental
place, that looked as if it were number 100 or so on the list of
recommended car rental places and had given up trying harder long ago.
He made sure the tank in their lowest priced model was full of gas. He
put on a baseball cap, and a pair of cheap sunglasses. Then, he had
another thought.

The Pits was quiet, this time of day. Huggy was behind the counter,
stocking up the rows of clean glasses. He looked up as Starsky walked in.

'Hi, Starsky,' he said. 'What's with the baseball cap, and cheap
sunglasses?'

'They're part of my disguise,' Starsky answered.

'Good disguise. Sure fooled me.'

'Cute, Huggy. I just don't want to look like a cop out for blood, is all.'

'Is that what you are?' asked Huggy.

'That's what I am. Listen, if Hutch calls, or drops in, I went looking
for him, up in the canyons. The one with the Hanging Tree. He'll know
where I mean.'

'The Hanging Tree? Sounds pretty. Have to go there for a picnic
sometime.   What's with all these messages?'

'Sorry, Huggy. When we were partners, and only partners, we were
together more than we are now we're married.'

'Oh. You got married did you? Didn't invite me. I'm hurt.'

'When we make it official, you'll be there. Best man, I promise.'

'Whose best man?'

'Mine, of course.'

'Which makes Hutch the bride? He'll like that.'

'You never know. Listen, Huggy. If Hutch does show up, don't let him
go running off to look for me, or we'll be at this all night.'

'Sure, Starsky. I'll stop him. Me and what army? What's this all
about, anyway? Why're you looking for him to start with? He's a big
boy now.'

'I know. A big boy with some big enemies.'

'Hutch? Enemies? I'm shocked. What kinda enemies?'

'The worst kind, Hugs. Cops. Dirty cops.'

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

'You think dirty cops are part of this?'

'I'm sure of it,' said Spike. 'You don't look surprised.'

'I'm not surprised. I've suspected it for some time.'

'So has Starsky,' Spike commented.

'He didn't share his suspicions with me,' said Hutch.

'Did you share yours with him?'

'Not exactly.'

'Why not?' asked Spike.

'I don't know. Who the hell are you? My therapist? My Father
Confessor? Satan?'

'Do you need any of those things?'

'Not that I'm aware of.'

'Then, why're you so hostile. What'd I do to you?'

'Nothing. Followed me around. Scared the shit outa me.'

'Didn't think anyone could do that.'

'Looked me up and down like I was a hunk of meat.'

'You are a hunk. Anything else?'

Hutch laughed. 'I give up,' he said. 'Maybe I do need a therapist.'

'Maybe we both do. If we're going to work together, we should
understand each other. Starsky says you understood each other, when you
were partners. He's not sure you do anymore.'

'Well if he holds things back from me.... And before you say anything,
Starsky and I discussed the case a lot. More than we should have,
perhaps. We discussed it at breakfast. On the phone at lunch. In
bed... before and after. I refrained from discussing it during. Is
that clear enough for you?'

Spike stared ahead, at the dark road that curved around and down, down,
down like a snake. 'I don't think Starsky meant the case… Quit
snarling like that. You're just giving me a hard on. Starsky didn't
say anything specific, but he says you doubt him. Doubt he really loves
you the way you love him.'

'That's specific enough. He says these things to strangers?'

'I'm not a stranger, not to Starsky, and there was a reason he told me
so much. I owe him a lot, so I'll make a confession to you, in return.
To balance the books. Part of the long story I was telling you about.
Starsky and I were in the same troop in Viet Nam. One of the
officers... a lieutenant. A good officer. A lot of the officers were
worse than useless. Got their men killed. But Roy, he was good. We fell
in love, and I guess we didn't hide it as carefully as we should have.
The men, for the most part, long as we pulled our own weight, they
didn't care if we pulled each other's dicks. But some of the officers
took offence. And then they took what they saw as revenge. Starsky and I
found Roy. They'd tied him to a tree, and left him for the Cong. I
thought we'd found him in time. He was still alive, and he pulled
through. In a way. Considering they'd gelded him.   I told him it
didn't matter to me, but he wouldn't listen. He wouldn't let me near
him, to comfort him. Finally, I lost my temper. Kicked his ass good.
Told him to shape up. It wasn't his dick made him a man.'

'Did that work?' asked Hutch.

'Depends what you mean by work,' said Spike, grimly. 'He went out and
put a bullet into his brain. The son of a bitch.'

'I see what you're trying to tell me,' said Hutch. 'I should be happy
Starsky's still alive.'

'No, that's not what I'm trying to tell you,' said Spike. 'Your Starsky
-- your partner on the force -- he is dead. He died in that hail of
bullets. Go ahead, and mourn him all you want. Just don't mourn so
much that you can't see what you got in return.'

Spike drove for a while in silence.    'I'm still pretty good at giving
lectures,' he said at last. 'I never learn.'

'That's okay,' said Hutch. 'I'm not going to kill myself over it.'

'Oh, Roy didn't die. He's still alive, but pretty much a vegetable. So
I hear. I haven't seen him since. His family took him away, and put
him in a home somewhere. They won't let me near him.'

Hutch stared down at his hands.

'I've told you so much, I might as well tell you the rest. Roy didn't
want to press charges against the officers who attacked him. Later, I
found out it was because they'd threatened to go after me if he did.
Starsky and I, we got our own revenge. On every last one of them. And
that's all I'm telling you. Satisfied?'

'Yeah,' said Hutch in a small voice. 'That'll do.'

*** The End (for now) ***

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