© by Elsa
Dobey had everything covered. The APB was out, the entire force knew about the attack and everyone was sharp, hoping to see the suspect’s face in traffic, in the crowd, in shopping public… Each officer was on stand by.
Vaughn’s house had been searched – he had a dark room where he developed and processed the photos he had taken. The cameras he used were in that room, highly sophisticated material, and all was confiscated by the police. A team was watching the house, waiting for Vaughn to show, so he could be arrested. But so far he hadn’t shown himself.
And Hutch knew he wasn’t going to.
He went to Vaughn’s house. For a while he sat in his car, parked in a small alley out of sight, and thought about what to do. There was something missing. Hutch couldn’t tell exactly what, but he wanted to see Vaughn’s house with his own eyes. He exited the car and made contact with Farnham, one of the officers on stake-out, and told him he wanted to get in. Farnham let him in through the backdoor and closed it behind him.
Slowly Hutch went through the house. It was small, normally decorated, with fairly new furniture. One wall was completely covered with books, all the way from the front to the rear of the house. A quick estimate convinced Hutch there must be at least six thousands books there. A well-read man, he thought, and fairly organised. Books categorised, alphabetised… kitchen neat and clean…
He went upstairs. Bedroom, closets with clothes, much like his own. Bathroom, like the toilet downstairs, clean, deprived of the photographic equipment that had been there. Second bedroom, more books. A desk with correspondence, folders and invoices and bills.
I’m missing something here. You’re obsessed with her, you prick. Then where are all the photos you’ve taken from her? The clothes you stole from her, the pantyhose you’ve undoubtedly taken? Where are all the souvenirs you’ve nicked? Where are they, the artefacts that are so important for you?
God, how much he missed Starsky right now! Even though he knew chances of Vaughn appearing here were negligible, he felt exposed and alone.
What would you do, Gordo? What would you come up with?“Search the place, Hutch. Thoroughly. Prove your right by showing you’re not wrong.” It was as if Starsky stood behind him and told him what to do. It was such an odd feeling, working as half of a whole. Hutch had to shake his head to get the eeriness away.
Methodically he went through every possible place in Vaughn’s house. Nothing. There was nothing that connected him to Nancy Kowalski, apart from his library card which was in the top drawer of the desk, together with other cards. Two hours later Hutch was convinced Vaughn had another place where he was staying. There HAD to be a place where he could be alone with the object of his affection.
He phoned home. As agreed he let it ring twice, broke the connection, counted to ten and rang again. He heard Nancy answer the phone, but he could hardly make out what she said. Her voice was so faint and stressed that he could tell how bad she was feeling.
“Nance, you sound awful. I’ll come home and get you a doctor.”
She whispered a ‘no’ but Hutch had already decided. There wasn’t much he could do here and he needed time to think. Maybe Dobey would find more leads. He left the house the way he had come in, through the backdoor, silent as a shadow, a thumbs up to the team on stake-out.
Images of Starsky came back as soon as he started his car and headed for home. He called captain Dobey.
“Where have you been, Hutchinson?” Dobey’s voice was gruff.
“Investigating Vaughn’s house. The man’s a school example of a tidy place and an organised character.”
“So you found nothing?”
“Nothing.” Hutch didn’t share his thoughts about a secret, hidden place. “Any news on Starsk?”
“I’ve been to see him but he was asleep. No news.” Suddenly Dobey burst out in a curse. “Damn! One of my best men in the hospital and not a clue as to the whereabouts of the suspect.” He let out a deep grunt. “And very little news on Starsky’s recovery.”
“He’s tough, cap. He’ll pull through.”
“Yeah, I know. But just how badly damaged is that head of his, Hutch?”
So he knows, Hutch realised.
“How’s Miss Kowalski holding out?” Dobey knew she was at Hutch’s.
“Not all that well,” Hutch informed him, remembering her difficult whispering. “She woke up with laryngitis. She was running a temperature when I left. She said she didn’t need a doctor but… ” A thought crossed his mind. “I’ll stop by her place and get her her medication. Apparently she’s had this before and it reappears when she’s under stress.”
“Alright, Hutch. Keep in touch.” And Dobey broke the connection.
Hutch had the key to Nancy’s apartment still in his pocket. He opened the door and was overcome by a flash back – his partner and Nancy and him coming back from the restaurant, their spirits high, their moods good. That was when Vaughn was a far away threat, still a man they would apprehend the next day and who would have to face his sentence about the woman he’d been stalking.
Hutch picked up the faint smell of Nancy’s perfume and the sweet scent of the melon that was still on the kitchen table. There was something strange about the place. He couldn’t tell what. He stood still in the doorframe.
Nothing.
He shook his head, a bit annoyed with himself. This entire thing was getting on his nerves and if he didn’t watch it, he’d let it get the better of him.
Medicine, where did Nancy say it was? Bathroom, a bathroom cabinet, most likely. Hutch opened the door to the little bathroom. Brightly coloured red and white tiles surrounded the wash basin and a shower booth. A basket held dirty laundry, there were red, yellow and blue towels and toiletries in a small cupboard. Above the wash basin was a small medicine cabinet, where Hutch found what Nancy needed. He read the label on the package and stashed it in his pocket.
And again he felt the eeriness he had experienced when he had come in.
He stood in the hallway, hand in his pocket to grab his keys… and again the hair in the back of his neck stood on end.
Words from Nancy came back. I feel so… watched. As if he sees my every move.
A bit itchy Hutch went to the living room. What was it? Was there anything different compared to yesterday?
Nothing.
He left the living room and opened the door to Nancy’s bedroom a little further, as it had been slightly ajar.
Hutch took a few steps further into Nancy’s bedroom. The bedroom was tastefully decorated with reproductions of Monet. The bed was made, a blue bedspread covering it. On the opposite side of the bed stood a dressing table with a large mirror. Pictures and postcards were stuck behind the edge of the mirror. To it’s right stood a large closet, which was open. It was filled with clothes.
He let his eyes go over the photos and the cards. They were the usual snapshots and cards of friends. On the dressing table toiletries and the usual bric-a-brac that can be found anywhere.
“Watch out, Hutch. Get in. You’re so close.”
Starsky voice, so close. As if he was standing behind him and looked over his shoulder.
He opened the door of the closet and let his fingers run over the soft fabric of the clothes that hung there. What struck him was that the clothes were organised by colour. Black left, then blue, some green things, a row of white shirts and a number of bright red clothes on the right. It was not Nancy’s way. Vaughn had been in here. Vaughn had done this, he knew for certain.
Hutch moved the clothes aside, leant forward to study the backboard and then it hit him - three things in the same moment.
The lights. The lights were off. When they had left, they had left the lights on.
A sound. He heard a soft muffled sound, so close that he had the feeling it was right next to him.
Holes. His sharp vision noticed a few tiny holes, at various places, in the back board of the closet.
“Watch your back, buddy.” Starsky, again so close. “I’m with you.”
He hooked his fingers in the holes – perfect fit- and pushed. The back board came lose without resistance. Hutch pushed the board aside and stepped into the room that was now revealed.
Pictures of Nancy, close-ups, distant shots, photos of Nancy asleep, in the shower, in the kitchen, in the living room, eating, reading, writing, on the phone…
A huge portrait of her was in the middle of the room, surrounded by candles and rosaries. Nancy was every where in the room.
Hutch had found it.
Vaughn’s sanctuary.