© by Elsa
Starsky and Hutch took the stairs to the precinct where the blond officer literally bumped into a woman. Her purse fell to the ground, its contents flying over the concrete stairs, Hutch nearly tripped over his own feet and only Starsky’s swift reaction prevented him from going flat on his arse. The woman looked startled, and hastily mumbled an apology. She grabbed her things together and hurried off to her car. She entered it, started it and raced off.
“She was in a hurry,” Starsky concluded. Hutch looked as she steered her yellow Cortina in line with a blue Volkswagen and a beige Chrysler, and then sped out of sight. He nodded.
“Sure was.”
“In the movies, the damsel in distress always loses something on the stairs. Wallet, letters, credit cards…”
“Don’t kid yourself, Starsk. She got her things alright.” The taller man laughed. “You wanna play the knight in shining armour?”
“Nope. You’re more suitable for that. I’ll be the Real Hero. The one in the background.”
Hutch laughed out loud. “Dream on, Gordo. Dream on.”
Starsky held the door open to Hutch and they entered the Bay City Police Station. At the reception desk a small group of people were screaming and cursing, while Julius Brown, the watch commander of the day tried to break up the row by bringing in a couple of more black and whites.
“Can’t hurt to try. Thanks for busting my bubble, Blintz.”
“Anytime,” Hutch winked. He watched as three officers took the quarrelling people away. A peaceful silence seemed to overtake the station. Behind the counter, Brown answered a ringing telephone and waved his pencil at Starsky.
“Starsky – phone. Merle, it’s got something to do with the Torino.”
“Thank Jools. Can I take it here?”
“Sure. Line four.”
Julius Brown handed Starsky the receiver and continued scribbling down whatever he was writing. Starsky assumed his best position to answer the phone – hanging against the desk as if it was his own. While he discussed his car with Merle, Hutch looked at the watch commander licking the tip of his pencil and writing.
“That woman who just went out...” Hutch said, knowing Julius to be very alert about who came in and left.
“The brunette with the short hair? Pale face?”
“Yeah.”
“Yep. Came to say she was being harassed by a man.”
“Huh?”
“She was nervous as hell. Something about a stalker.”
“A stalker?” Hutch listened with increasing interest.
“Said she knew who it was. She was darn hesitant. Then I got kinda distracted by the family fight here. I didn’t see her taking off.” Something dawned on Julius. “You ran into her, Hutch?”
“Yeah. Well, actually, she ran into me. She seemed kind of troubled.”
“If you ask me, it was a storm in a glass of water.” He tapped with his index finger on his forehead. “Stalking isn’t a real thing. She’s seen too many movies. Stark raving mad, if you ask me.”
A sudden flashback projected an obsessed nurse in Hutch’s living room, who tried to force a knife into his chest. He imagined he could feel the steel sliding through his arm, the pounding of his heart and the fear he felt at that moment.
“She’s NOT stark raving mad,” he spat at Julius, who looked at him kind of overtaken by the harsh tone. “If she’s being stalked by someone, she’s NOT imagining things. It’s as real as you and me are.” He lifted his index finger warningly. “I’m telling you Jools, if you ever neglect a complaint like that again, you’ll have to answer to me.”
“Hey! Don’t tell me how to do my work! I did NOT neglect her complaint - SHE was the one who disappeared.” Julius’ face grew dark with defiance. “I can’t see from the outside what’s going on inside the head of every person who appears at the counter. And I see lots of idiots, belief me.”
“Have you got her name? Address?”
Grumbling, Julius began to look through his papers.
“Nancy Kowalski. No address. I was just about to take that when that family came in.”
“Nancy Kowalski,” Hutch repeated, as to imprint the name in his mind. “And she drove a yellow Cortina, license plate XBR 723 C.”
Julius, helpful now that he noticed he could do something for Hutch and thus avert the wrath of the blond man, picked up another receiver. His own was still in use by Starsky, who hadn’t noticed anything of what was going on, as the volume of his conversation with Merle increased by the minute.
“Charlie? Run a plate for me, will ya? XBR 723 C. Yellow Cortina…. Yes, I’ll hold…” Julius waited, trying to look helpful and avoiding Hutch’s dark look at the same time. “Miss Nancy Belinda Kowalski, 82nd August Avenue, Bay City. Got that. Thanks Charlie. Yeah… see ya…”