INTUITION

 

 

By

 

Amye

 

 

Charlie Conover looked at the five cards in his hand: Jack of Clubs, 9 of Clubs, 2 of Hearts, 2 of Diamonds, Ace of Diamonds, and then at the pot of bills in the center of the table.  Don’t chance it.  He told himself.

 

Throwing his hand down, he folded for the evening.  “That’s it for me guys, I’m just about tapped out.”

 

Two of the other participants in the poker game hurriedly agreed that they were done for the evening also.  Robert Walters, the fourth person and the overwhelming winner of the evening, looked over his hand in disgust at his co-workers.  They had gotten together for this impromptu game on the site of their latest job.

 

All four men were construction workers currently laying the foundation for the new City Hall to be located on Main and Sixth where the old O’Neill’s Department Store once stood.  Charlie, Rob, and Mark Stanley were all cement pourers and bricklayers; Jack Caswell was their supervisor.  It was late on December 22, 1975 and the site would be shut down until January 5th.  All four men had plans for the holidays.  Rob’s plans included staying in town and spending them with friends, even though he knew his mother and long-time girlfriend were expecting him home on the 24th.  He did little to dispel this falsehood to them.

 

Rather than push his luck, Rob suggested that they all head down to The Sportsman’s Bar for a few more drinks.  Charlie looked at his watch, it was already 11:50 and he had a lot of driving ahead of him tomorrow, so he deferred.  The others agreed to follow Rob down the few blocks to the local union hangout.  All three men were well on their way to legal inebriation by the time they arrived, having downed a case between the four of them during their poker game.

 

A few more hours of continuous drinking and carousing took place.  Soon accusations of cheating and threats were bandied about.  Several times bar manager - Rusty - threatened to throw them out for their loud, obnoxious behavior.  Rob offered to pick up the bar tab with his winnings to cool down rising tempers.  Mark and Jack left together, leaning on each other’s shoulders while waiting for their cab to pick them up.  Rob stayed behind until Rusty finally kicked him out.

 

Stumbling past the few garbage cans in the alleyway behind the bar, Rob began the ten-block walk to his downtown apartment on Fourteenth.  As he approached Rockton and Ninth, a slight shadow slipped behind him and stealthily approached the drunken form.  Just as Rob turned, he caught the glint of ebony metal, a small pistol, as it slammed down on the side of his head just behind his left ear.  He fell without a sound.

 

 

 

 

“….you’re gonna love it.”  Announced Starsky’s arrival into the Squad room on Monday morning January 5th.  Trailing behind him with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket was his partner Ken Hutchinson, whom Starsky was trying to coerce into having a belated holiday party at his Venice canal cottage.

 

“Starsk, what makes you think I want to even go to a holiday party, much less host one?”

 

Turning from the coffee pot, mug in hand, Starsky tried once again to convince his partner what a blast it would be for the two of them to host a party and invite all their friends.  Starsky’s place was too crowded, but Hutch’s open-air cottage, combined with the empty lot next door would provide plenty of room.  “We can rent a tent for outside and get lights.  Huggy can set up his stereo system in your living room for dancing.  It’ll be great Hutch, you’ll see.”

 

“Besides, there isn’t enough time to get invitations out and we probably couldn’t rent a tent at this late date.”  Replied the blonde smugly, thinking that was a much easier way out than trying to argue with his best friend.

 

“No problem.  We just call ‘em up and invite everyone over the phone.  Give ‘em time, date, and place, and voila!”

 

“That is so tacky Starsky!  Nobody attends a party without a personal invitation.”

 

“Any party like that, and I don’t want to go – too stuffy for me.”

 

Hutch ignored the put-down to his conservative upbringing and sat down at his desk looking at the few folders that sat there.  The holiday season always seemed to lessen the crime statistics, as if most criminals had a change of heart from November 24 thru January 2.  Starsky threw his left leg over the back of his chair and straddled it before sliding down into the seat.  Just as his lower extremities found a somewhat comfortable position in the hard wooden chair, their Captain stepped out and asked to see them in his office about a new case.

 

Once the two men were settled, Dobey closed the door behind them and walked to his large oak desk, handing the slim manila folder in his hands to Hutch.  He let the two men peruse the case file for a minute without saying anything.  “Hey Cap?” announced Starsky, who was reading the file over Hutch’s shoulder.  “This isn’t a homicide.  It’s a missing persons.”

 

Hutch looked up at his superior with confusion in his light blue eyes.  “Why involve us?  Is it because we’re pretty much caught up?”

 

Dobey closed his hands together and looked over the double fist at the two men across from him.  “Because of who the victim is there is a chance that this could be a homicide, but I’ve been asked to spare my best men because of who he is.”

 

Both men looked down at the name on the file.  ‘Robert Walters, Jr.’  “Huh?  Who’s he?”

 

“Robert Walters, Jr. is the son of Robert Walters, Sr.” said Dobey smugly as if that explained everything.  The two detectives still had blank looks on their faces.

 

“And he is?” Asked Hutch.

 

“Was.  The father’s deceased.”  Dobey leaned back in his large, creaky chair, which threatened to give.  “Robert Walters Sr. was a high profile attorney in Sun Valley CO.  He also happened to be one of Governor Reagan’s best friends.  So when his son didn’t show up at home for his scheduled visit during the holiday and there was no response all the weekend at his apartment, his mother called the Governor’s office asking for help.”

 

Starsky grabbed the folder from his partner’s upturned hands.  “So what makes you think that this could be a homicide?”

 

“Well, contrary to what his mother indicates, Robert Walters, Jr., or Rob as he’s known here, doesn’t have the most pleasant of personalities.  He’s been arrested several times for public drunkenness and for disorderly conduct.  He can’t seem to hold a job down, and it’s my bet his mother’s never seen the sleazy apartment building he calls his address.”

 

The picture of Rob Walters in the folder was a mug shot taken several months before when he was arrested for an assault charge that was dropped when the victim refused to cooperate.  He had short medium brown hair that folded over to the right with a small thatch dipping down his forehead.  His eyes were hazel, nose longish, and thin lips a pale pink.  He would’ve been a nice looking man if it weren’t for the scowl that covered his face from eyebrows to chin.  His age was listed at 24.

 

Starsky studied the photo.  “Doesn’t look like a momma’s boy.”

 

“Well he’s sure fooled his mother.  She thinks her son is as clean as the snow on those ski slopes they live near.  She’ll be arriving tomorrow.”

 

Hutch’s blonde head snapped up.  “Uh, Captain, we’re not expected to hand hold this woman are we?  We can’t have her interfering in our investigation.”

 

“You don’t think I know that Hutchinson?  How the hell do you think I got to be a captain?  No.  She believes she can tap into ‘other forces’ that will help find her son and said she needs to be in the same city that he was last seen.”

 

“Just great.”  Mumbled Starsky.

 

It wasn’t the first time they’d run into some wealthy person who thought the police would benefit from their ‘help’.  They sat in front of Dobey’s desk and griped about high society influence and their bullheadedness in involving themselves in investigations, until finally Dobey ordered them to leave his office and start working on Rob Walters’ location.

 

Several hours later the two men had visited Walters’ apartment, place of work, and usual hangouts.  They interviewed his neighbors – who, naturally, didn’t have much to say; and his co-workers – some of whom said a little too much about the missing man.

 

The two then headed back to the office to type up their report on the day’s activities.

 

“Dobey was right.  This guy seems to be a prime target to become the victim of a crime.”  Read Starsky while chewing on the end of his pencil.  “Drinks a lot, slacks off at work, gets into fistfights, gambles – possibly cheats.”  He looked over at his partner.  “And this guy is a friend of the Governor’s?”

 

“Dobey didn’t say that.  He said his parents were friends of the Reagan’s.  The mother calls Ron & Nancy for help, they pass it off to the Mayor who calls the Chief and so on down the line.”

 

“And we’re the caboose at the end of the train.”

 

Hutch smirked.  “Well, the ladies are always saying you have a nice one.”

 

Starsky got off the top of his chair where he was balancing and turned around to wiggle his ass at his friend.  “When you’ve got it, flaunt it.”  He joked, using one of their tried and true lines.  Just then, Minnie came in the squad room carrying some files for another detective.  One glance at that sashaying butt and she pulled her glasses down to the tip of her nose and peered intently.  “My, my.  Starsky honey I knew you had a thing for me, but can’t it wait until we’re alone?”  Falling forward in surprise, Starsky went to grab at the open edge of the door to Dobey’s office.  Unfortunately, the large Captain was walking out at the same time and instead Starsky’s face grabbed the edge, which propelled him backward and into Simpson’s lap (sitting next to Starsky’s desk), who puckered his lips and threw a kiss down at the stunned curly-haired detective.

 

By now the entire squad room was in an uproar, with Hutch doubled over in his chair gasping for breath.  Starsky’s face was as red as his infamous long underwear and in between gasps Hutch couldn’t help but point that out.  Then Minnie offered to check Starsky’s underwear to verify the coloring.  Starsky’d had enough.  He slid off Simpson’s lap and stormed out, not waiting for his ‘better half’.  Hutch stumbled behind him, still chuckling at his partner’s expense.  “That’s what you get for flaunting it in public Starsk.”  He called down the hall after the embarrassed man.

 

 

 

 

The following day brought more information on the character of Robert Walters, Jr. while the two were interviewing some of the patrons and bouncers at the places he hung out.  Most of it corroborated what the two Metro Detectives were told the previous day.  One of the bouncers from The Sportsman brought up the fact that Rob’s companion’s accused him of cheating one inebriated evening a few days before Christmas, after a poker game, but that the three settled down after being talked to.

 

Later that afternoon they had a meeting with Mrs. Walters at her plush five-star hotel suite.  The suite consisted of a living area, two bedrooms, dressing room complete with wet bar, bathroom, and secluded balcony.  Her companion during this trip was Anna Decateur, who turned out to be the fiancée of their missing man.

 

Anna was very tiny; perhaps 5’1 with shoulder length curly brown hair and sparkling amber colored eyes.  She was dressed in a simple, classic outfit of tan cotton dress slacks with a dark blue cardigan sweater, a rope of pearls and pumps that Hutch’s mother would call ‘proper’.  Mrs. Walters also wore a rope of pearls to set off her outfit of a gray ankle length A-skirted dress with a thick belt at the middle.  Her bright white hair accented the lightly made up face with the piercing gray-blue eyes that showed her intelligence.

 

After introductions, small talk, and the offer of coffee and cake; the two detectives pulled out their notepads and smoothly began to discuss the habits and character of Robert Walters, Jr. or Bobby, as the two ladies called him.  The two detectives didn’t want to divulge his seedier side to his loved ones.  Mrs. Walters answered most of the questions; Starsky let Hutch take the lead in handling the ladies, while he observed their manners and facial expressions.

 

The interview consisted of Mrs. Walters singing Bobby’s praises, with little verbal input from Anna, just a few nods of confirmation.  They told the detectives that they expected him on the 24th of December, but he never showed up.  The detectives already knew from speaking with Walters’ co-workers that he had no intention of appearing at the family home for the holidays, but they decided to spare the women of that fact.  Though they did confirm that the dark blue 1973 Oldsmobile ’88 Convertible parked in the underground lot of his apartment building was one that Mrs. Walters bought for him last year.

 

Mrs. Walters sensed that the tall blonde detective was empathetic to her and told him that she felt something was wrong when he son didn’t show up as planned.  Neither female could get a hold of him, so they decided to come to Bay City to locate the missing man.

 

Anna sat in her chair quietly, nodding her head in agreement.

 

The two detectives left after questioning the ladies further on Rob’s friends, education, any business deals they might’ve been aware of.  Most of the conversation was dominated by Mrs. Walters, with Anna adding a little regarding Rob’s state of affairs after he dropped out of college.  Starsky and Hutch left their business cards with the women, reminding the two that any information they find or remember should be turned over to the police for further investigation.  It was apparent during the conversation that Rob had lied to these two women about all aspects of his life.

 

They waited until they were in the elevator and out of the ladies range of hearing before discussing the situation.  “Man this guy is a piece of work.  He’s got his poor mother and fiancée snowed.  How could he let his mother think he was going home for the holidays?”

 

“It was good of you not to say anything to them about what he’s really like.”

 

Starsky looked downward while toeing the carpet in the elevator.  “Well, I didn’t want to hurt them.  Eventually they’re gonna find out, but not right now.”

 

“Why do you think so?  If we find Walters alive, there’s no need to dispel their image of the man, however unpleasant it may be.”

 

Starsky looked up into Hutch’s face.  “Think about it Hutch.  There’s virtually no evidence of a crime.  But if he left on his own, why would he leave such an expensive car behind?  I mean even if it’s recognizable – he could’a traded it in for something less conspicuous.  Unless he’s hurt and can’t tell anyone who he is.”

 

“But we notified all the hospitals.”

 

“Right.  That’s why I think he’s dead.”  Starsky replied simply.

 

“Huh?”  The blonde was confused.  “Did you get something that I missed?”

“No.  It’s just a feeling.  If he was taken because of his family connections, then why haven’t they heard anything from the kidnappers?”  He paused for a moment as the elevator stopped.  “And I’ll tell you something else.”  Starsky said to his partner as they stepped off the elevator and into the lush lobby.  “I think that poker game the other night had something to do with it.  If Walters was cheating, and the three had been drinking heavily, that may have been enough to push one of the others over the edge.”

 

“It’s a good theory Starsk; now how can we prove it without a body?”

 

“First let’s find out where this poker game took place and who all was involved, see where that takes us.”  Suggested Starsky as he bounced down the steps in front of the hotel.  He turned around and looked back at his partner who was staring at his darker partner with a look of admiration on his face.  “Come on Hutch.”

 

Hutch shook his platinum blonde head.  “Sometimes Starsk you amaze me.”  He exclaimed as he caught up to his partner and the two walked to the parked Torino.

 

“Just sometimes?”

 

 

Since they were told that the poker game in question took place at the construction site where the three men involved in the near bar-brawl worked, Starsky and Hutch decided it would be easier to talk to the other men there.  The foreman reluctantly gave permission to have them pulled from their duties for a time.  He walked away from the dark and light detectives to get the two workers.

 

“But hey, if it means anything,” he turned back to the waiting detectives, “Walters was probably gonna get fired soon.”

 

Blue eyes met blue eyes as the two drew up stiffly.

 

“What do you mean?” Asked Hutch cautiously.

 

“I mean he was always late, hung over, there’s evidence he used this place for personal gain.”

 

“What type of ‘personal gains’?”

 

The foreman looked down.  “Well rumors are he was running a numbers game for some big shot.  You know, illegal numbers.”

 

“Quite a paragon, isn’t he?  Why was he hired?  Weren’t his references checked?”

 

“You’d have to talk to the main office about that.  But I think he’s a friend of the owner’s, or something like that.  Well let me get Jack and Mark.”

 

After the foreman walked away Hutch turned to Starsky.  “An illegal gambling ring’s another angle we could pursue if this doesn’t pan out.”

 

Starsky, deep in thought, shook his head.  “We could, but I think we’re on the right track here.”

 

Hutch stared at his pre-occupied partner, wondering what was rattling between those dark curls now.  But before he could voice the question, the foreman came back with Mark Stanley and Jack Caswell.

 

“You got somewhere we could talk privately?”  Starsky directed the question to the foreman.  He nodded at one of the nearby trailers.  “That’s my office. You can use it.  I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”

 

“I’m guessing you want to talk more about Rob.”  Said Jack as the four stepped into the stuffy trailer.

 

Hutch let Starsky take over the questioning since it was his gut feeling that was leading the two detectives in this direction.

 

“Actually we want to talk more specifically about the little impromptu poker game you guys were involved in the other night.”  Starsky sat down behind the foreman’s desk.  “And the little squabble afterwards at ‘The Sportsman’.”  He looked directly into the eyes of the standing men facing him, judging the reaction on their faces.  Other than the slight glance they gave one another, there was no outward alarm or concern.  Starsky indicated with his hand that the two should sit in two of the chairs in front of the desk, while Hutch sat back on the couch against the wall and watched his partner at work.

 

“Well what about Charlie?  Shouldn’t you be talking to him too?”  Asked Mark.

 

“Charlie?”  Starsky looked down at his notes.  There was no mention from the bartender of any guy named Charlie being involved in the argument.

 

“Charlie Conover.  He was at the poker game too.  But he didn’t come with us to the bar.  He had to get home ‘cause he was traveling the next day and wanted to rest.  He was the one who called the game quits in the first place.  Rob wasn’t too happy with him about that either.”

 

Starsky nodded at Hutch who received the mental message and left the trailer to have the foreman get Charlie.  Meanwhile Starsky went over the same information they had asked last time:  their job duties, and addresses, events on December 22nd.  What they did after leaving the bar.  Their opinion of Rob at work and as a friend.  He was hoping to see if he could trip them up from the first time they talked.

 

But other than confirming what they had told him and Hutch the day before, nothing new came out.  Their responses were short and simple, yet Starsky felt they were holding back.  Soon Hutch came back in with Charlie Conover.  A short built man who appeared to be in his early 50s, he had salt and pepper hair.

 

The two detectives introduced themselves to Charlie.  They didn’t remember talking with him previously, but if he’d been out of town that would explain his absence from their notes.

 

“We understand you were a part of a poker game last Tuesday night with Mike, Jack,” Starsky nodded toward the two other men, “and Rob Walters?”

 

“Yes.  We usually get together for an impromptu game once or twice a month.  I heard Rob’s missing.  Is that what this is all about?”  The older man looked around the trailer at the other people.

 

“We heard some rumors that Rob may have been cheating and it led to an argument at a bar later that night; where you weren’t in attendance, correct Mr. Conover?”

 

“Yeah.  I had to leave since I wanted to get an early start on the road.  Went to my daughter’s place for the holiday.”

 

“And where does your daughter live?”

 

“Uh, Lakeport.  Why?”

 

“Can you provide us with a phone number for your daughter to verify it?  And can you provide proof of your whereabouts from the time you left the poker game to when you arrived at your daughter’s?”

 

Charlie looked stunned and his eyes grew wide as he sat down in a folding chair that Hutch brought over for him.  “You don’t…you don’t think I had anything to do with Rob’s disappearance do you?”

 

Hutch reassured the men.  “Nobody here is under suspicion of anything.  Rob could’ve disappeared on his own.  Our investigation is strictly to find out what may have caused him to disappear.  Voluntarily or involuntarily.  This is just one of the leads we’re following up.”

 

Starsky folded his hands together as he rested his elbows on the desk.  “Anything you can tell us today stays between us for now and may help us look in other directions for Rob.”  He said with meaning.  “We really need your help.”

 

The three men looked at each other and shrugged.  “What can we tell you that we didn’t tell you before?”  Jack asked.

 

All three men admitted that they suspected Rob of cheating occasionally, and not just at cards.  “Actually Mark here suspected it first,” Jack pointed out, “and told me to kinda watch out for him.  Then I told Charlie when both Mark & I saw the same card being palmed during a game.”

 

They then told the detectives how Rob would brag about Anna, but cheat on her all the time.  How Jack, being his supervisor, suspected he was cutting corners when mixing the mortar and cement compounds.

 

“That’s one of the reasons he was gonna get fired.  I finally told the foreman and we tested some of the blends and looked at some of his work, most of which had to be reinforced.”

 

It appeared that Starsky was writing all of this down.  Actually Hutch was writing it down; Starsky was writing down his impressions of their stories and their body & facial language.

 

“You and Jack took a cab home together that night - correct Mark?  Where’d it take you?”

 

“My apartment.  Jack doesn’t live too far, so after a few more beers, he walked home.”

 

“What about Rob?  Did you see him leave the bar?  Was he talking with anyone when you left?”

 

“Nah, he was still sitting there.  I have no idea when he left.  Never saw him again.”

 

Behind him, on the couch, Hutch tilted his head sideways towards the door.  Starsky understood this to mean that he wanted to talk, so he closed up the conversation by asking the men to keep their ears open.

 

 

Before going back to the station the two stopped at The Pits to ask Huggy to keep an ear to the ground about any numbers or drug runners that were new; thinking that they could be replacements for Walters.

 

“Okay, so what’do you got Hutch?”  Asked Starsky in reference to the blonde’s signal back at the construction site.

 

“We seem to have no end of suspects since this guy wasn’t the nicest guy on the planet.  I just thought it might be a good time to regroup.  Also, I’m curious why the foreman didn’t tell us his suspicions about Walters cutting back on compound ingredients?”

 

Starsky appeared lost in thought.  “You know something Hutch?  There’s something about that construction site.  Whether it’s vibes I’m getting ‘cause I think someone there knows something, or whether it’s something else, I don’t know.”  He shook it off and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Vibes?  I thought you didn’t believe in ESP and stuff like that.”

 

No this isn’t like that; it’s just a hunch.”

 

Back at Parker, they delegated some of the needed information to desk duty officers; calling cab companies, investigating the ever growing pile of possible suspects, and cross referencing Walters’ previous arrests with any of his current acquaintances.

 

Since they didn’t get much time for lunch, and rather than start on a project at the end of the day, the two stopped for Chinese and went to Starsky’s apartment to compare notes.

 

 

 

 

Several days later while sitting at their desks after coming back from lunch, Dobey’s door to the squad room opened and he ushered out Mrs. Walters and Miss Decateur.  Always the gentleman, the Captain’s large shoulders and chest were drawn up as we thrust his arm out to let the ladies pass first.  He took Mrs. Walters’s offered hand and kissed it in a farewell gesture.  As she walked by Starsky’s desk she lightly tapped his cheek.  “Hello boys.  Keep up the good work.” She remarked with a knowing smile.  Anna smiled gently at them, but didn’t say anything, hurrying after her fiancée’s mother.

 

After they left Starsky turned a stunned face to his partner.  “What was that all about?”

 

A thunderous voice behind him answered.  “I’LL TELL YOU WHAT THAT WAS ABOUT!  In my office, both of you.  NOW!”  Dobey was upset about something.

 

“Close the damn door – and not with your feet Starsky!”

 

Approaching Dobey’s desk carefully, they sat themselves down in the chairs opposite him.

 

I just got off the damn phone with a reporter who wanted confirmation on a rumor he heard on the streets about the Walters investigation.

 

“And that would be?”  Asked Starsky as he carefully placed his feet on Dobey’s desk.

 

Shoving the feet off, nearly tipping his darker detective over, Dobey expounded the fact that the reporter wanted confirmation that the police were going to be using psychics to solve the case of the missing man.  “This jerk had the nerve to claim that a source ‘close to the investigation’ has been heard saying that Rob Walters is dead and he knows this because he ‘feels’ it.  We all know what ‘source close to the investigation’ means!  And this happened while Mrs. Walters had stopped by to get an update.  Now where do you think she’s going to talk about with this?”  He looked back and forth at his baffled detectives.  “To the Governor of course!  I want to know which one of you has been talking on the streets and to whom?!”  The angry man specifically looked at Hutch, knowing his fascination with psychics and mind games.  “Can you imagine how this is gonna look to the Chief?”

 

“Uh Captain, that story is highly exaggerated.”  Hutch tried to explain, while Starsky’s face turned dark in anger.  “Starsky, uh….” the blonde detective dropped the rest of the sentence, not wanting to get his dark haired partner in trouble.  Anxious blue eyes met irritated darker ones as Starsky stepped in to cover Hutch’s gaffe.

 

“Cap’n what dumb blondie was gonna open his mouth and say is that I got this gut feelin’ that Walters’s dead.  And, yes, maybe we talked to a few of our informants to get the scoop on what went down in his neighborhood the night he disappeared.  They must’ve talked to someone and stretched what I told ‘em.”

 

Dobey sat down in his large chair, the wheels squeaking beneath him and the vinyl crackling as he settled.

 

“Tell me what else.”  The Captain sensed that Starsky was holding back.

 

The curly haired detective took a deep breath and blurted it out.  “I think Walters has been buried where the parking garage is going to be built on the new City Hall site.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Just a feeling.  Not all the foundation has been poured yet and it would be the easiest place to bury a body with no one ever finding it – yet simple enough for a drunken murderer to figure it out.”

 

“Starsky don’t you think you’re jumping the gun here?”  Hutch broke in to try to talk some sense into his partner before the figure behind the desk burst into a large pile of black cinders.

 

“Starsky!  You’re telling me that you’re investigating this as a possible murder with no body, no motive, no weapons, oh but you have a theory that the alleged murderer was drunk!  Dobey stood up and rested his hands on the top of his desk, supporting his massive weight.  “I want you to take the rest of the day off and think about what your next job will be if you don’t stop playing games and start using procedure!”  He paused and calmed down a little.  “The only good thing that’s come from this is that Mrs. Walters called the Chief and congratulated him that he had such open minded officers that think outside the box.”

 

“But Cap’n……”

 

A large forefinger pointed toward the outer door.  “Starsky, I mean it.  Go.  And come back here tomorrow with something else to tell the Chief.”

 

Starsky slunk out the hallway door, while Hutch sat still in his chair.  Dobey finally looked at the blonde.  “Well?  What are you sitting there for?  And I don’t want to hear that you support your partner’s crazy idea?”

 

Hutch hesitated before answering.  “Well….I think Starsky’s on the right track about Walters being murdered.”  Before Dobey could lose his temper more, Hutch explained.  “His gut instinct is telling him that Walters is dead.  You know how dead-on Starsky’s instinct usually is.  And we’ve got a lot of circumstantial evidence and hearsay about Walters’ activities that suggest he met a foul end.  I think it’s an avenue worth pursuing, that’s why I didn’t refocus Starsky’s energies on this case.

 

Dobey looked at the seated detective, thinking about what he said regarding Starsky’s instincts.  Nodding briefly, he told Hutch to go after his partner and take the rest of the day off with him.

 

 

 

 

The next morning Dobey called the duo in the car while they were on their way in, and asked them to meet him at the site of the new City Hall.

 

At the construction site, the workers were being held outside the gate by police officers.  The foreman made his irritation at the authorities known and promised to place a call to the general contractor advising him of the delay.

 

Hutch turned around, thrust his forefinger towards the man and snapped, “You tell him to pray my partner’s wrong or this whole site will be shut down and everyone on it considered a suspect.  He turned back towards his partner and the two found their way over to Captain Dobey and a forensics crew.

 

“As much as I don’t want to find a dead body here, you better not make me look like an imbecile Starsky.”  Said Dobey as he met the approaching detectives.  “Now where do you think this body will be found?”

 

Starsky turned in a circle, looking around the massive construction site.  “What’s over there?”  He pointed to a large site where most of the heavy equipment sat.  It appeared to be a second or third phase of the City Hall project.

 

Dobey motioned for one of the other officers bring him over the map he held.  After turning it several times, Hutch pointed out that it appeared to be where the parking structure was going to go.  Dobey confirmed with the foreman that the parking garage was one of the last structures to be built, but that the groundwork and measurements had been laid.  The construction firm was using the area to park their backhoes, cement trucks and other machinery in the meantime.

 

“Let’s start there then.”  Starsky said with authority.  Dobey looked at Hutch who shrugged his shoulders and followed his partner.

 

Included in the forensics team’s equipment was a long, thin, plastic tube attached to a machine used to indicate hollow spaces in soil and rocks, and for measuring pressure.  It was created for mining purposes, but was lately finding use in criminal forensics and paleontology.  As the machine was set up, the man in charge of using the equipment explained that they would insert slowly into the ground in grid patterns.

 

“So you can’t actually tell if there’s a body lying under the soil?”  Asked the baffled Captain.  Why have these confounded machines if they don’t work to our specifications?

 

“No,” answered the officer, but I can tell if there’s an unnatural space in the soil, something that would indicate a recent disturbance.”

 

“But what about the all the construction going on?  Couldn’t an ‘unnatural space’ be solved by that explanation?”

 

“It’s doubtful.  If something’s been placed in the soil, like a body, there would still be spaces surrounding the body.  Loose soil tends to settle after a few days, creating no vacuum.  So if the construction site dug around here to test the soil and the stamina of the underlying rock, then it would still show as a compressed area.  On the other hand, if someone disturbed the area and placed a body in it, the soil wouldn’t have compressed properly, leaving room for the vacuum – or space.”

 

Starsky was anxious to get on with it.  “How long will this take?”

 

The officer in charge shrugged his shoulders.  “Depends.  If we find what you’re looking for right away, not long at all.  Otherwise it can take all day or tomorrow even to cover the entire grid.”

 

Watching the men slowly insert the tube in various pre-marked areas over the packed earth proved boring, especially for Starsky who hated the tedious aspect of his job.  He slowly walked around the unbroken grounds of the site – watching the waiting workman and other gawkers.

 

“Penny for your thoughts.”  Came a smooth voice from behind him.

 

“Huh?”  Starsky turned to see his partner at his left elbow.

 

“You, uh, looked miles away for a few minutes.  Wanna tell me what you were thinking about?”

 

“Oh nothin’ in particular.  Trying to get a fix on Walters.”

 

“Change your mind?”

 

“Hmmm.  No.  He’s buried here somewhere.  I think the undeveloped garage is the most likely place.”

 

At the end of the fourth hour of searching, the forensics team was entering the third of five grids, moving in to the middle of the search area.  The officer manning the machine abruptly called for Captain Dobey.  “We’ve got something here Captain.”

 

The numbers on the printout meant nothing to the Captain.  “Okay, if you think that shows promise.”  Dobey turned to the other officers standing nearby and ordered them to start digging.  “Starsky!  Hutchinson!” he called his detectives over.

 

The three men watched the four uniforms dig slowly into the dirt following the directions of the forensics officer.  Within a short time they came across an object that wasn’t part of the natural topography.  The object wasn’t hard like a rock, but more pliant.  The forensics officer called a halt to the digging and stepped low around the holes.  Brushing aside the loose dirt he uncovered a denim-clad arm.

 

 

The two detectives and their Captain didn’t make it back to their precinct until early evening.  There were people to notify, arrangements to work out with the contractors, the coroner’s people to meet with, and the Chief & Mayor to placate.

 

Hutch hung up the phone that had been ringing on his desk when they came in.  “That was Mrs. Walters.  I told her we would send Rob’s body on once the autopsy was completed.  Once we know when that will be I’m to call her back to get the arrangements.”  He picked up a tan photo envelope on his desk and began looking at the pictures inside.

 

Starsky didn’t look up from the typewriter where he was concentrating on writing his report without making it seem like there was some ESP or such nonsense involved.  The tip of his tongue was sticking out slightly from between his thin lips.  His thick brows were furrowed together and Hutch thought he would surely give himself a headache if he held his face in that manner much longer.

 

“Hey Starsk!”  The call was repeated several times before the brunette looked up from his desk.

 

“Huh?  What?!  I’m trying to finish this so I can go home and get some good rest before my hot date tomorrow with Lauren.”

 

“I just got the photographs back from the crime scene.  What do you see?”  Hutch handed the pictures to his partner.

 

The official crime scene photos showed Rob Walters lying on his back with his right arm lay over his face as if to ward something off.  His ankles were crossed, and the left arm was at his side slightly bent.  The only evidence of violence on the body was a small bullet wound in the upper left chest.  The blood soaked area indicated the victim had been shot while still alive.  The other photo was a picture of the victim's backside, taken after the body had been removed from its burial place.  A large, bloody contusion was apparent on the back of the skull and the exit wound of the bullet was also visible.

 

Starsky turned the photographs around in his hands, viewing it from different points.  “The bullet entry looks weird in comparison to the exit wound.”

 

“I thought so too, but I guess we’ll have to wait until the coroner’s report to see what he says.”

 

Studying it for a few more moments, Starsky scrunched up his face deep in thought.  “Hutch?  You know what?”

 

“What?”

 

“I’ll bet he was shot AFTER he was buried.”

 

“But Starsk, there’s a thick layer of blood seeped into the shirt, that would mean that…..”

 

“The murderer buried him alive.”

 

 

 

Until they could solve this, there would be little time off for the two detectives, so Starsky made sure his date with Lauren that evening was an early one.  As pre-arranged he picked up his partner in the morning before work.  Surprisingly his partner wasn’t out in front waiting for him, for as usual Starsky was a little late.  It took a couple of honks on the horn before the blonde came out of his building, looking a little more worn.

 

“Hey what’s with you buddy?  I was the one with the hot date last night, and you’re the one who looks it.”

 

“I kept thinking about Mrs. Walters last night and how disillusioned she’s going be when all the crap about her son comes out.  I hate to see any mother hurt like that.”

 

“Yeah