Starsky awakened feeling better than he had in months.  He remembered so much now, but it wasn’t clear.  He remembered seeing Dr. Crabtree, but was puzzled about a few things that happened at the doctor’s house—like another man being there and seeing a film about the murdered girls.  None of that had happened.  He would have remembered if it had.  Somehow he was confused and things that had happened were getting mixed up with other events. He rose from the bed vowing to talk to Hutch about it.  He had spoken to Hutch about Crabtree many times.  Maybe the two of them could figure out what happened. 

Starsky stretched.  He was still fully dressed so he headed toward the voices.  He found Hutch and Jennifer sitting on the couch talking.  He stood there observing the easy rapport between the two cops, wanting to savor the moment.  He realized the seriousness of their situation—this could be their last days of freedom.

“I think it’s time we pay Dr. Crabtree a visit,” Starsky said walking towards the two blond detectives.

“So Jennifer is right.  It may be the same man,” Hutch asked.

Starsky looked sharply as Jennifer.  “You know him?”

“It sounds like a doctor I had in college.”

Jennifer recounted her theory about Dr. Crabtree to Starsky who listened with a growing sense of dread. 

“Do you remember where he lives?” Hutch asked, looking at Starsky.

“Yeah, I remember looking out the car window.  It was dark, but I could see enough to find the place.”

“How did you meet Dr. Crabtree?” Hutch asked.

“Don’t you remember Cap’n Dobey referred him after I refused to see the department shrinks?  I told you all about him.”

Hutch met Starsky’s eyes, “Gordo, you never mentioned the doctor.”

“Well that’s impossible.  I told you how relaxing it was sittin’ in his living room instead of the department shrink’s office.  I even told you what happened during the sessions.”

Starsky was gripped by horror when he saw the blank expresson on his partner’s face.  He went to the fireplace and leaned on it for support.  His eyes met Hutch’s. “Hutch, Cap’n Dobey told me it was okay to see Dr. Crabtree instead of the department shrink.  I went there for over three months.  I told you about it.  Even asked you to come a few times, but you were always too busy.”

“Starsk, think about it.  When was I ever too busy to go with you to the doctor?  Any doctor?”

Starsky sighed, the reality of what happened engulfing him.  It was a false memory. The whole thing.  He had never visited a kindly doctor who helped him through the worst time of his life.  It had all been planted, just like the murders.

“Are you saying that Dobey didn’t…?”

“Dobey told me that it wasn’t necessary for you to see a shrink this time unless it seemed necessary.  He figured once the drugs left your body you’d be okay.”

“But I remember Hutch.  I remember the living room.  He called it the Sun Room because it got so much sunlight.  He smoked a pipe in front of the fireplace.  I remember… I remember…drinking those awful Mint Juleps on the porch. I even went back to him when I became scared of the dark.”

Starsky could see Hutch move from the couch and Jennifer thankfully exiting the cabin.  He was about to break down and he didn’t want Jennifer there to see him when he did.  The tears came hot and fast.  Hutch was there holding him against his chest as the tears fell.

“Gonna be okay, buddy.  We’re gonna figure this thing out.”

“I’m so sorry, Hutch.  It’s my fault.  I’ve taken everything from you.  Everything.”

“No, Gordo.  I still have the most important thing that matters.”

Starsky held on desperately to Hutch.  He no longer knew what was real, but at this moment, this time, Hutch was real.  He was all that he had.

*****                                                                                                                 ****

The tension was palpable in the car.  Hutch drove while Jennifer sat in back with Starsky.  The dark-haired detective gave directions as Hutch drove, but his voice was filled with tension as the skies over Bay City darkened.  They were on their way to Dr. Foster.  At least he hoped they were on their way.  It was also a possibility that the entire thing was a false memory and they would get there and find an empty lot.

Hutch thought about the day.  He was tired; the kind of tired that goes all the way to the bone, but time was of the essence.  They had decided to visit the doctor under the cover of darkness.  It wasn’t going to be easy for Starsky, but there was no choice.  They couldn’t take a chance on driving through the streets in broad daylight.  They were all wanted now, even Jennifer now that she had decided to go with them.

Hutch looked through the rear-view mirror.  Starsky was staring straight ahead, and Jennifer was holding his hand and soothing him in a gentle voice.  So far, his friend seemed to have his fears under control, but Hutch knew that could all end the minute Starsky had to leave the car.

“Do you have any other fears, detective Starsky?” Jennifer asked. 

“Not too crazy about heights,” Starsky replied.

“Have you ever had to go up high in the line of duty?”

“A few times.”

“And how did you deal with it?”

“It needed to be done.  I just did it.”

“Okay.  Well this is the same thing.  In a few minutes we’ll be at the house.  All our lives depend on you getting out of the car without alerting the occupants to our presence.  We may have to walk a little since we can’t just pull the car up in front.”

Hutch watched as Starsky blinked.  He wanted to go back there and comfort him, have Jennifer drive the car.  But she was the professional and he was not.  She was the best person for Starsky now and he was grateful.  She had put her life on the line for a man she barely knew.  He could never repay her.

Jennifer continued talking to Starsky.  “You love Hutch don’t you?”

“Well of course.  He’s closer to me than my own brother.”

“He needs you, Starsky.  He needs you now more than ever.”

Hutch could hear Starsky take a deep breath.  He wouldn’t say that he approved of Jennifer’s methods, but they would be effective.  Starsky would do anything to prevent something from happening to him.

In the distance, a large Victorian home came into view.  Hutch glanced around the streets, grateful to see that they were deserted.  “We better ditch the car here and walk the rest of the way.”

Hutch parked the car then all three got out.  Hutch took his gun out.  He looked at his partner and saw the barely concealed hysteria that was almost at the surface.  Hutch locked eyes with Starsky as if he could give him strength just by looking at him.  Starsky smiled and headed for the house.

****                                                                                                                  ****

Doctor Foster lived on a quiet tree-lined street in a Queen Anne Victorian house.  The house was white with a large circular porch enclosing it.  There were several houses on the same block that were similar in appearance, but the doctor had the most impressive house and by far the largest.

“I’m going around the back,” Jennifer whispered gun in hand.

Hutch wanted to protest, but he knew she was right.  It was best to split up.  He looked at Starsky who had a light sheen of sweat on his face.  He was worried about him.  His friend had a horrifying phobia of the dark and there wasn’t a single light on in the house.  He could hear the short breaths of his friend as they moved towards the house.

“Easy now,” Hutch said as Starsky staggered for a moment. 

“I’m okay,” Starsky said.

They reached the door and Starsky retrieved a small tool-kit from his pocket.  They would have to pick the locks in order to get inside.  Hutch knew it was against the law--they should announce themselves before entering.  Still, he was prepared to do whatever it took to retrieve the film.  If that meant putting his scruples aside for Starsky, then so be it.

Hutch heard the lock click and the door opened.  Starsky seemed to be calming down, probably because they were going inside where he would eventually be able to turn on a light.  Hutch wondered where Jennifer might be as they entered the house. 

The house was in total darkness as they entered but Hutch was able to make out the faint outline of furniture in a large room at the end of the foyer.    This must be where the treatments took place.  Hutch put a protective hand on Starsky’s shoulder and was surprised to find his partner totally relaxed.  It was as if the darkness no longer bothered him, yet the house was darker than it had been outside.  Hutch filed this information away.  They had to find the film. 

Starsky continued into the living room, Hutch following.   Jennifer entered through another door in the room.  Now, all three detectives walked around the large room.  The room was unusually dark but Hutch noticed a large fireplace and remembered Starsky mentioning one when he was under hypnosis.  This is probably where he was brainwashed.  The thought disgusted him. 

Hutch had just turned to leave the room when it happened—all the lights came on at once and the doors slammed shut.  Hutch listened as the gravely voice of a man spoke,

 “Good evening gentlemen, glad you could join me.”

Hutch turned quickly, his eyes scanning the room for the source of the voice, but the room was empty except for the three of them. 

“Excuse me for not making an appearance, but I do believe you would shoot me if I did.  My name is Dr. Foster and you are my lab rats.”

Jennifer joined the two detectives in the center of the room.  They were all holding their guns and scanning the room at the same time.  Hutch could see that the windows were covered.  No doubt they were also reinforced with some sort of covering.  He knew without looking that there was no escape from the room. 

Hutch noticed two cameras hanging from the ceiling.  Apparently, the doctor was observing from some other room in the house.  Hutch looked at Starsky.  His eyes seemed glassy, distant, like he didn’t know what was going on. 

“Starsky,” Hutch said, but received no reply. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” Jennifer shouted, her eyes searching the room.

“Observing an experiment, dear child.  Oh, and getting a taste of revenge.”

 “Detective, it’s time,” the graveled voice said and in one motion Starsky struck Jennifer, knocking her to the floor, and aimed his gun at Hutch.

Hutch looked at the blonde detective lying unconscious on the floor and then into the eyes of his best friend.  What he saw there chilled him.  Starsky’s cobalt blue eyes which normally radiated warmth were dark, filled with hate.  He advanced on Hutch, his intentions clear.  Hutch raised his own gun, aiming it at Starsky.  His hands were shaking, his pulse quickening.  He was about to shoot his best friend, the man who meant more to him than life itself.  Starsky was close, too close.  At this range any shot could mean death.  If he got lucky his friend would only be injured.  If he were lucky.  But then luck had deserted him for most of the day. 

“Starsk, it’s me, Hutch,” he said, looking for some glimmer of recognition.  Starsky held the gun steady and stopped.  He stood there like he was waiting for orders.  Hutch heard the graveled voice of Dr. Foster.

 “He will not pull the trigger until I tell him to do so detective and you of course would never pull the trigger.  You see I’ve taken the time to study my lab rats.  I know about your relationship with my subject.  Sick if you ask me, but it will serve my purpose.  If he can kill you, a man he worships, then I can brainwash anyone into taking a life or anything else for that matter.”

“You mean you’ve done all this, just so you could test some sort of brainwashing technique?” Hutch asked tightly.

“Not all.  You see my benefactor required me to do a few things for her.  All those murders, really.  So senseless, but I saw the potential in you two. I saw the chance to see just how effective my technique is.”

“Benefactor?” Hutch asked.

“Mrs. Harlow, of course.  I unfortunately lack the funds for an endeavor such as this.  No, she was kind enough to provide the money.  Of course, she hadn’t envisioned that I had my own agenda.  She only wanted me to see that he was deemed insane and spend the rest of his life in an institution for the criminally insane.  Such a waste if you ask me.”

Hutch stared at Starsky.  He was just standing there, his eyes distant, his expression a mask.  Hutch still held the gun in his hand. 

“So did you make him kill those girls?”  He had to ask.  He believed in Starsky’s innocence, but he needed to hear the words.

“No, unfortunately, Mrs. Harlow was more entertained by an innocent man being committed.  She hired someone else to do the killing and made him think he did it.  I shall of course honor that part of the deal and have him institutionalized, although, the poor thing will probably get the death sentence for killing all those women and two cops.”

Hutch remembered the words Janet Harlow uttered the day the verdict was read: 

You will suffer as I have suffered.  You will live as I will live.  And one day you will beg for death and I shall not grant it.

And Starsky would suffer, once he realized he’d killed his best friend.  Hutch felt the sting of tears behind his eyes and fought to control them.  He couldn’t shoot Starsky.  He’d rather die than shoot his best friend.  Hutch lowered his gun.

“So, how did you know we were coming?” Hutch asked, hoping to stall for time.

“Once I discovered that you and your partner were on the lam and that Dr. Reese had disappeared, I knew it was only a matter of time.  You see, Dr. Reese and I have a history.”

Hutch recalled Jennifer saying that she’d been the one to turn Dr. Foster in for doing experiments on homeless people. 

“I know about your history,” he said.

“I’ve followed her career for years.  Hating her for what she did to me.  Did she tell you that I was the one to teach her about hypnosis?  Did she tell you?”

Hutch recalled the strange tea and the way Starsky had yielded to her hypnotic voice.

Dr. Foster continued, “I went around the world learning techniques, finding herbs that would open the mind.  She was my protégée, my legacy.  But she threw it all away because of her high-minded ideals.  Well she’ll pay.  She’ll pay with her life.”

“So you figured Jennifer could get through your barriers and we’d show up here?”

“Well that’s where the plot changed.  You see, Starsky was supposed to suggest you come and see me.  I must have slipped up somehow.  I guess I was too good at preventing him from talking about me.  I’ll have to work on that.”

The doctor laughed and Hutch braced himself for what he knew would come next. 

“Detective Starsky, kill him!” Foster ordered.

Everything happened in slow motion.  Hutch watched as Starsky aimed the gun at his heart.  He locked eyes with the detective as the tears he tried so desperately to hold back, came forth.  Starsky seemed to pause for a moment, his finger on the trigger.

“I forgive you, buddy.  I love you,” Hutch said so quietly that only the brunet standing in front of him could hear it.  Hutch dropped the gun.

 “Pull the trigger,” Foster shouted again. 

And then, Starsky did pull the trigger.  Hutch watched as one moment the gun was aimed at him, and the next Starsky had fired at the two cameras that hung from the ceiling.  

“Let’s get outa here,” Starsky said, running to the fireplace. 

Hutch gave a sigh of relief, Starsky was back, and they would escape.  He retrieved his gun from the floor and checked Jennifer who was just regaining consciousness.  

“What happened?” she asked, getting unsteadily to her feet.

“Can you walk,” Starsky yelled, nervously looking around the room.

“Yeah,” she said groggily, picking the gun up, and joining Starsky by the fireplace.  Hutch stood by the door.  He expected one of Fosters goons to enter any minute.

Starsky went to the fireplace and pulled a brick out.  The fireplace opened to reveal a passageway. 

“Hutch, come on!” he gestured.

Hutch followed Starsky and Jennifer through the passageway.

“We gotta get up the stairs before he gets away.  He keeps a room upstairs.  He won’t leave without his research.”

Starsky approached a door at the end of the passage.  Both detectives stood on opposite sides of the door.  They nodded at each other, than kicked the door down, crashing through in their customary high, low method.   They came out in a darkened hall with rooms on each side.  The hall was empty empty.  Starsky raced down the hall and up the stairs, the two blonde detectives on his heel. 

“It’s that door at the end of the hall, Hutch.”  Starsky called out as he dashed for the door. 

They were nearing the door when Hutch saw a shadow race out of one of the rooms.  It was a tall man and he was aiming a gun at Starsky.  Hutch spared no time in shooting him as Starsky dove for the floor.  The hulking form crumbled, his eyes open.  Starsky stood and continued to the room at the end of the hall.  

Jennifer stayed by the body of the fallen man, her eyes scanning the length of the hall. Hutch raced toward Starsky. 

Starsky cautiously approached the door.  Hutch realized everything depended on what happened these final moments.  Starsky took his place on the right side of the door.  Hutch to the left.  Hutch eyed Starsky, nodding his head and then both crashed through the door.  It took only seconds for Starsky to register the figure of Dr. Foster standing there with a gun in his hands.  Seconds for Starsky to aim his own gun and shoot the doctor through the heart.  Seconds for the man to look into the face of his opponent, to see his dark blue eyes as he took his final breaths.

***                                                                                                                       ***

It was finally over. The proof that was found in the doctor’s office was more than enough to exonerate Starsky.  Starsky was grateful that neither of his friends were punished for helping him.  Dobey had claimed  they were undercover.

Doctor Foster’s files revealed  the true identity of the murderer of all three women.  He was a hitman who bore an uncanny resembelance to Starsky. He had been arrested earlier in the week.  Unfortunately, they were unable to discover if the doctor was involved in the brainwashing scam that occurred a few years ago that had resulted in the death of Joe Durniak.

Starsky marveled at the complexity of the plot.  Doctor Foster’s notes revealed that his memories of the crimes were triggered by a telephone call.  The doctor would merely say one word to indicate which scenario he’d recall and then have the hit man kill the victim.  Starsky remained in a trance until after the murders were comitted.  He had no memory of the call or the ensuing trance. The doctor covered his tracks well.  Starsky wasn’t the only victim.  Kathryn had also been given false memories.

Starsky cursed Janet Harlow again.  She may not have ordered his friends death, but she had caused the whole series of events that had lead to it.  He’d come so close to killing Hutch.  Only the tears Hutch shed and the love he professed for him had brought him out of the trance.  Janet Harlow had to be stopped—stopped at all cost.

Now, Starsky paced nervously in the waiting room of the prison.  He was alone.  He had arranged to see Janet Harlow alone in this prison because what he was about to say could never leave this room.  He didn’t even want Hutch to bare witness to the scene that awaited him. He was lucky.  He had many sympathizers among his fellow cops, so they had allowed him the privacy that was normally reserved for a lawyer and his client.  The conversation would not be witnessed or recorded.  He was never there.

Starsky looked up when he heard the clang of the door.  It was time, so he schooled his features to convey not a nervous man, but a cold, ruthless man.  

The door opened and a prison guard accompanied a grey haired woman with eyes the color of steel.  Her commanding persona and plastic surgery made her look younger than her years.  Here was a woman accustomed to power.

Janet Harlow regarded him and took a seat in one of the plastic chairs that surrounded the single table in the room.  Starsky took a seat opposite her.  The guard looked at Starsky for a moment and left the room.

“Round two,” she said harshly.  “I’ll give it to you.  You’re a resilient bastard, but they say the third time is the charm.”

Starsky met her eyes and she shrank back for an instant as if she had seen something repulsive. She quickly regained her composure and smiled, but Starsky could see the fear beneath the smile.  He spoke, his voice low and dangerous, “If you ever try again, I will see that you suffer.  I will see that everything you have.  Everything that matters is destroyed.”

She leaned forward, meeting his eyes.  All fear had dissolved in the instant he had spoken.  “You’ll do nothing, detective.  I’m safe in here.  And they treat me well.  My money sees to that.  I may be a prisoner.  I may die here.  But I’ll live well before I die and I’ll destroy you one day. I’ll destroy you and make you pay for my daughter’s death.”

Starsky grabbed her hand and the old woman trembled for an instant.  He was a dangerous man now, a predator, and she could feel it in this room of gray plastic chairs.  And he could feel it, too.  He looked at her neck, so easily broken.  A life ended in seconds. A life taken for all she had taken.  A life taken for almost making him kill Hutch.   The rage went through Starsky making him regret not letting Hutch come with him.  He was losing control and he knew it, but it was too late, and he was alone with the rage and the old woman. 

“You have connections.  You live well,” he said, the rage boiling to the surface making his voice hard.   “I will make sure that don’t continue.  Not here.  Not anywhere.  You see I have connections too.  Connections that go all the way back to New York.  Now, normally I play it straight.  I don’t particularly care for the mob types.  Spent my career hating them.  But I’ll make an exception for you.”  I’ll see that you get to hell faster than you imagined, but first you’ll find out what hell is about.  He leaned forward, tightening his grip on her hand.  “I’ll make you beg for death and I’ll come to watch you beg.”

Starsky watched her grey eyes fill with uncertainty.  He felt her hand shake.  He saw the terror she felt come to the surface.  He wanted to stop, stop the rage, but he was powerless to stop it.  He continued, “You’re all alone.  Nobody visits you.  Your family just waitin’ for you to die so they can get their hands on your money. Ya think anybody gonna care what I do to you?  Some of them might even help.”

Her eyes met his, and although he could see the fear, almost taste it, she refused to let it come completely to the surface.  He felt the tension in her body as he tightened the grip on her hand.  He was hurting her, but he didn’t care.

“You killed my daughter.  You killed the only thing that mattered to me.” She rasped.

“You killed your own daughter.  You killed her with your greed.  Ya couldn’t share her, so you destroyed her.  You may just have well have driven the car into the lake yourself.”

Starsky watched as the woman seemed to shrink into herself.  He released his hold on her hand and she jerked it back, rubbing it, her head down. 

Starsky stood and walked to the door.  He struck the door once, than looked at Janet Harlow who seemed to suddenly age before his eyes.  “You haven’t heard the end of this.  I’ll get you,” she shouted, the challenge still in the eyes.

“I’ve seen the end of you alright.  One way or another, it ends now.”  Starsky said slowly, the dangerous edge still in his voice.

The guard came and opened the door.  Starsky walked through the door.  He spared one more glance at Janet Harlow and then he was gone.

Fin

Authors note: 

Definitions:

 Nyctophobia:  an irrational fear of the night or of darkness in general.

Panic attack:  a sudden overpowering feeling of fear or anxiety that prevents somebody from functioning, often triggered by a past or present source of anxiety.

Panic attack symptoms:  Trembling, shortness of breath, heart palpitations, sweating, nausea, dizziness, hyperventilation, tingling sensations, and chocking or smothering sensation.  Can be triggered by a phobia.