Hutch looked at the building that housed the Satin Doll nightclub.  It was a gray building located in a shabby neighborhood.  Hutch could imagine the building forty years ago when the neighborhood had been filled with nightclubs and women dressed in silk and lace dashed from limousines.  He could practically here the sounds of cleats tapping against the sidewalk, smell the scent of channel number five.  But that was long ago.  The clubs that dotted this once thriving neighborhood had long disappeared.  Now the large marquee on the building only reminded one of the dismal qualities of the neighborhood. 

Hutch headed for the alley and flashed his badge at the two police officers standing guard.  The body had been found by the janitor early that morning.  The janitor recognized her as one of the singers who worked for the club.  Hutch braced himself as he headed down the alley.  It was always difficult to see the results of a senseless murder, but this one was different.  This one may be related to the other death.  Both women were described as young and blonde. 

Hutch looked up as Starsky pulled into the alley.  Earlier Hutch had arrived at Starsky’s apartment to find his friend still in his robe.   Starsky had suggested that he meet Hutch at the club once he’d been informed that another body had been found.  Hutch waited for his partner.  Starsky flashed his badge and walked towards Hutch.  He looked drawn, not tired, but like the energy was slowly being taken from his body.  Starsky came closer and Hutch could see the effort he put into trying to act normal.

“What do we have?”  Starsky said as he approached Hutch.

“Another body.  Same M.O.” 

They locked eyes. “We got a serial killer on our hands,” they said in unison.

Hutch watched as Starsky looked at the building.  He seemed lost in thought as his eyes scanned the expanse of the alley.  It was subtle.  In fact only Hutch would have recognized the troubled expression on his friends face, but the site of the building disturbed Starsky for some reason.

“You okay, Gordo?” Hutch inquired.

Starsky didn’t answer.  Instead his eyes came to rest on the small form lying covered in the alley.  He kneeled down and for an instant his eyes met Hutch’s.  It was as if he were asking permission to remove the sheet that covered the victim.  Hutch nodded his head.

“It’s not a pretty site.  She was stabbed numerous times in the stomach.” 

Starsky slowly pulled back the sheet, his eyes darkening as her face was revealed.  He took a deep breath as he looked at her.

“My god, what have I done?”

Hutch let the words register.  Had he heard correctly?  He watched as Starsky stared into the eyes of the girl, his hands shaking, his breaths coming quickly.

Hutch kneeled next to his partner, placing an arm around his shoulders.

“Starsk.” 

Starsky stood abruptly, his expression a mixture of shock and horror.

“Did anyone see who she left with?” he asked, his voice hard.

“Starsk, take it easy…”

“Did anyone see?”  Starsky grabbed Hutch by his collar, desperation in the eyes. 

“The manager saw him, but all he could remember was the guy was dark and medium height.  No information on hair color.  The guy was wearing a hat.”  Hutch paused, regarding his friend.  “Gordo, take it easy.  What’s going on?  You know this girl?”

Starsky met Hutche’s gaze.  Hutch noticed the slight tremor in his hands, the rigid posture.  The eyes that seemed to be looking into another world. 

“I have never met this woman in my life,” he said, turning, and headed for his car.  Hutch ran after him, but the Torino was already dashing down the street.