Vendetta

episode transcript by Sarah Spearey

A Warehouse: Day

(A man wearing beads comes down stairs, entering the dark empty room. He walks around.)

Man: Tommy?

(In the shadows, someone is waiting, holding a bat. The man walks around some more.)

Man: Tommy? You here? (He looks around some more. The man in the shadows comes out.) Tommy, no! (The man swings the bat.)

The Park: Day

(Hutch is lying on a blanket on the grass with Abigail sat beside him. A picnic basket beside them. Abigail picks a flower and smells it. She lies down next to Hutch and tickles his nose with the flower. He wakes up, rubbing his face.)

Hutch: Oh. (Looks around.) What happened to our crowd?

Abigail: Suppose they just ran off some place. (They kiss. He rolls her over so he’s on top.) Oh, I thought they’d never leave. Still two hours before you have to go to work.

Hutch: Well, what are we gonna do? Are we gonna talk away the time, or are we gonna…get this stuff together and go back to my apartment? (They kiss.)

Andrea: Hey, Hutch! (A woman comes running over.)

Hutch: What?

Andrea: You’ve got a 10-40.

Hutch: A what?

Andrea: A 10-40.

Abigail: Isn’t that what you always get when we’re in the middle of a good time?

Hutch: No, sweetheart. That’s what you get for waiting too long. (He gets up and runs off.)

Andrea: We didn’t even get to pour the wine.

Abigail: We didn’t even get the cork out.

(Hutch runs up to Starsky, who’s standing by the Torino.)

Hutch: Don’t tell me, Starsk. I see the end of a beautiful day.

Starsky: You got it. Dobey wants us in early. He’s got another body beaten to death.

Hutch: Like the others?

Starsky: This one’s a kid.

Hutch: How old?

Starsky: Seventeen.

The Morgue:

Officer: Yeah, well, that’s the way it was. (Leads Starsky and Hutch into the morgue.) 613, please. (Coroner opens up the drawer.) Found him lying in an empty warehouse two days before we got him. Name’s Jimmy Shannon. He was arrested a couple of times for petty theft.

Starsky: (Reading) “Heavy blunt instrument. Head shoulders and legs broken.” Sound familiar?

Hutch: Sounds like an epidemic.

Starsky: Three in thirty days. (The drawer closes and they go over to a table with clothes on it.) This guy gets around. (They look through the possessions.)

Hutch: No, wallet, huh?

Officer: No, nothing.

Hutch: ’64 J.F.K. (Looks at a coin.) What’s that worth now? A dollar? (Finds a key.) Hotel Bremen. Arty Solkin’s blood bucket.

Starsky: Captain of the bells. Wonder how many guys he’s got working for him now?

Hutch: Probably one less than he had two days ago. (They head for the door.)

Starsky: Thank you.

Hotel Bremen: Night

(A men enters the hotel carrying a brown paper bag. He enters the elevator

(Tommy is laying on a bed, staring up at the light bulb. The radio’s playing classical music. The man enters.)

Arty: Tommy? Tommy? Can you hear me? It’s me. Arty. (He turns off the radio.) Come on, kid. Pull it in. I just made a score. (Sits on the bed next to Tommy.) Tommy? You hear me? (Tommy moans.) Nice to see you up and around.

Tommy: What time is it?

Arty: Wednesday. Want to go to work? I just made a score. Fifty bucks apiece for each of us. You want it?

Tommy: What kinda work?

Arty: Your kind of work. (Stands up.) Strawberries and whipped cream. Only this time, we only have to bust his legs. (Pours himself a drink.)

Tommy: When?

Arty: Tonight. Any time. Hmm? Hey, here. (Throws something at Tommy.) Eat something. You look like a ghost.

Tommy: You’re not still mad at me, are you? (Pause.)

Arty: We can live with it.

Tommy: All right.

(Outside, Hutch’s car pulls up)

Starsky: What a terrific place to spend your last days. (They enter. Starsky shows his badge to the desk clerk.) Jimmy Shannon. What do you know about him?

Clerk: Who?

Starsky: Jimmy Shannon.

Clerk: Oh, you mean Jingo.

Starsky: All right. Jingo.

Clerk: What’s to know? Ain’t seen him in a couple of days. What happened? He all right.

Hutch: America’s answer to Fagin around?

Clerk: Huh?

Starsky: Arty Solkin.

Clerk: Oh, Arty. Yeah. He’s upstairs. You wanna talk to him?

Hutch: We’ll talk to him in Shannon’s room. Get him there. Please.

Starsky: Elevator. (They go inside.)

(Up in Tommy’s room Arty is eating and drinking and Tommy is sat on a chair when the phone rings.)

Arty: Solkin. What do you want? (He looks distressed. He hangs up.) Couple of cops. They wanna…talk to me in Jimmy’s room. (Long pause.) Don’t go to pieces. I’ll see you later. (He leaves. Tommy doesn’t move.

Jimmy’s Room: Night

(Starsky and Hutch enter Jimmy’s room. Hutch switches on the light. It’s a dump.

Starsky: Beautiful. I’ll get the bureau. (Goes over to it and looks in the drawers. Arty’s heard approaching.) Hi, Arty.

Arty: You just pulled me off a good job. What do you want?

Starsky: Jimmy Shannon. Died like a man in the pursuit of happiness.

Arty: What do you mean? He’s dead? (Starsky looks back at him. Arty picks up some clothes.

Starsky: What kind of happiness, Arty?

Hutch: Come on, Arty. Pull yourself together. You know what Jimmy said right before he died? He said, “tell Arty not to worry.”

Arty: Don’t do you numbers on me, all right? What do you want?

Hutch: Something else besides Jimmy Shannon’s last known address.

Arty: He’s got a mother in Cleveland. What else do you want?

Hutch: How about the name of the guy who bear him to death, huh?

Arty: Is that how he got it?

Hutch: Yeah, that’s how we got it, Arty. And you know something else? That’s the third time this month. Now, you wouldn’t know anybody who’d something like that, would you?

Arty: Me? What do you mean? You crazy?

Starsky: What did we get you on last time, Arty? Contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Aiding and abetting. What else?

Arty: Forget the history, right?

Hutch: We forget nothing, Arty! Nothing! Fagin, faigeleh. What’s the differences? You’re vermin.

Arty: You got no right to talk to me that way.

Hutch: What’s the matter, scum? I hurt your feelings. You know something. You make me sick. (Starsky’s looking around.) Right from that rancid black grease you wear in your hair down to your two-tone shoes.

Arty: You’re trying to get me mad so I’ll take a punch at you and then you’ll run me in.

Starsky: Oh, heaven forbid, Arty. You don’t think we’d do something like that, do you, huh? Hey? Hey, look. All we want is a shortlist of Jimmy Shannon’s last known associates. You know, like someone who gets their kicks, maybe, from beating other people.

Arty: I told you, I don’t know anyone like that.

Starsky: No, huh?

Arty: Now, if, uh, you’re done with me, I got some work to do.

Hutch: Get out of here. (Arty leaves.)

Starsky: I can’t take you out anymore, Hutch. You keep insulting my friends.

Hutch: Starsky, he knows who did it.

Starsky: Yeah, well, if he doesn’t, I got a feeling he knows where to look.

Hutch: Is there anything else in here?

Starsky: Not the way I can see it. (They leave.)

Tommy’s Room: Night

(Tommy is still sat at the window when Arty enters.)

Tommy: We still working? (Arty pours a drink.)

Arty: Yeah. (Turns the music off.)

Tommy: Leave it on, all right? (Turns it back on.)

Arty: Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’re still working. Only this time, I think we’ve got two jobs.

Tommy: Two?

Arty: Part one is a guy named Eckworth. Lloyd Herman Eckworth. Owns a nightclub. Uh, we break his legs and put him up in a wheelchair where everybody can see him. Part two is a blond cop named Hutchinson. But him we do different.

The Home Plate: Night.

(A couple enters the club just as a man exits. He lights up a cigarette and is approached by a bum.)

Arty: Ah, sir, sir. Please, uh could you spare some small change? I need a drink very bad, honest to God.

Eckworth: Yeah, yeah, sure. (Hands him some money.)

Arty: You’re…you’re a prince.

Eckworth: Yeah, sure. (Walks by.)

Arty: You’re wonderful. Bless you, sir.

(Eckworth goes over to his car and starts to unlock the door when Tommy comes out of the shadows, swinging a bat. Eckworth falls to the ground. Meanwhile a couple exit the club. Arty comes up to them.)

Arty: Uh, excuse me, sir. Pardon me. Do you have change for a dollar? Huh? Please?

Man: No.

Arty: Aww.

(The man walks on and Tommy comes out round the corner. He dodges them and goes over to Arty and they walk away.)

Arty: Is he dead?

Tommy: No.

Arty: You sure?

Tommy: Yeah, I’m sure.

Arty: Well, blond cop time. (A woman screams and they run.)

The Squad Room: Night.

Starsky: Here’s the man himself. (Pulls a file out of the cabinet.) “Arthur Fingal Solkin. 53 years old, white male.” Four counts. “Contributing to the delinquency of a minor…” Make that four minors. (Sits on the desk next to Hutch.) Fifteen, 15, 16 and 17. “Aiding and abetting the runaway status of…” Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. That’s it. Your friend and mine, Arty Solkin.

Hutch: Housemother at the Hotel Bremen. Some kids have all the luck, huh?

Dobey: Okay. But how do we hang him with the beating murders?

Hutch: Jimmy Shannon was one of Fagin Arty’s artful dodgers.

Dobey: That still doesn’t cut any ice. The first of the two priors was a 38-year-old man in the laundry business. The second was a 48-year-old man, a pimp named Billy Chartreuse. What does he have in common with a…? With a 17-year-old named Jimmy Shannon?

Hutch: Broken legs. And maybe, if we’re right, Arty Solkin.

Dobey: Maybe.

Hutch: I’m tired. (Stands up.)

Starsky: Wanna get a hamburger?

Hutch: Are you kidding?

Starsky: No, I’m not.

Hutch: See you tomorrow. (Leaves.)

Starsky: Well, how’d you like to eat alone?

Dobey: It really doesn’t make me any difference. (Starsky walks to the door.) See you in the morning. (Starsky leaves.)

Venice Place: Night.

(Thunder rumbles. Hutch pulls up outside his place and goes in. He enters his apartment, turns on the light and takes off his jacket.)

Hutch: Hello, plants.

(Goes to the fridge and picks up a beer. Inside is a dead rat. He thinks, closes the door and walks slowly to the chair, opening his beer. He sits down and picks up the phone. Something crashes through his window. Hutch drops to the ground, pulls out his gun and creeps out the door. Outside Tommy runs back to Arty’s car. They drive off just as Hutch runs out. He runs out into the road, but he’s too late. He turns back.)

Later on: Night.

(Starsky picks up the brick.)

Starsky: Nice Neighbourhood. Leave a note? (Hutch is sat on the sofa.)

Hutch: Oh, you’re a scream. Look, why don’t you get yourself something to eat. I got some great new goodies in my icebox.

Starsky: Oh, that’s a good idea. Thanks. So, what did he look like? Tall, short, fat, skinny? Did you get an M.O? (Goes to the fridge.)

Hutch: I didn’t get that close.

Starsky: Oh, well, maybe next time. (Opens the fridge, looks inside and closes it.) Either your eating habits have change drastically or you’ve got some very sick people mad at you.

Hutch: You know the one thing that bothers me?

Starsky: You’re out of ketchup?

Hutch: Whoever put that rat in my icebox has got a way through my front door.

Starsky: Any ideas?

Hutch: Not a clue.

The Squad Room:

Dobey: Hutch. You and Starsky get over to midtown memorial hospital. See the owner of The Home Plate nightclub. Name’s Lloyd Eckworth.

Starsky: Lloyd Herman Eckworth? Used to play with the Yankees, then the Chi Sox?

Dobey: Why don’t you ask him? Somebody broke his legs last night.

Hutch: Was it done by our same friend?

Dobey: We suspect, with one exception. Eckworth’s alive to talk about it. Better get on it, will you? (Enters his office.)

Hutch: Wait a minute, wait a minute. Lloyd Herman Eckworth.

Starsky: Yeah, utility infielder. Came up with the Yankees in, uh, ’49. Traded to the Chi Sox in ’54. (Heads to the door.) I used to collect baseball trading cards. Lifetime batting average: .247.

Hutch: .247?

Starsky: Yeah.

Hutch: Wait, wait a minute. How do you know that?

Starsky: Some things you never forget.

Memorial Hospital: Day

(Starsky and Hutch enter Eckworth’s room. He’s on the phone.)

Eckworth: Yeah, yeah. Look, look. I’ve already talked to the doctor. Honey, he says…he says if I’m careful Yeah. (pulls down the phone.) Yeah? (Hutch shows his badge.) Oh, no. Hold on Janet. (To Hutch.) Now, what is it?

Hutch: Detectives Hutchinson and Starsky. We’d like to talk to you, Mr. Eckworth.

Eckworth: Look, I’ve already given my statement three times.

Hutch: I know. We’d like to hear it again.

Eckworth: But there’s nothing to tell. (On the phone) Janet. Come on. For crying out loud. Janet, pick me up in 30 minutes or I’m taking a cab. Then I’ll take an ambulance if I have to. I’m getting out of here today. (Hands Hutch the phone.) Here.

Hutch: Mr. Eckworth?

Eckworth: You want me to tell the story? I walked out of my club, into the garage. There was this bum asking for money. I give him a buck. He tells me, “God bless you.” I turn around, whack. I’m looking at this ghost swinging a sawed-off baseball bat in my face.

Hutch: That’s it?

Eckworth: That’s it.

Starsky: An inside the park home run.

Eckworth: What?

Starsky: An inside-the-park home run. I saw you hit one when I was 9-years old, against Fellan. You were playing the White Sox.

Eckworth: You remember that?

Starsky: Sure, I remember that. It was the second half of a doubler-header. Hotter than hell out. I drank so many sodas I almost got sick.

Eckworth: No kidding. Yeah, that was some ball game.

Starsky: That was some hit. You damn near ran that third baseman right down. The guy that hit you, you remember him?

Eckworth: The guy that hit me?

Starsky: With the baseball bat.

Eckworth: Yeah. He looked like, uh, Stan the Man. You know, a young Musial when he first come up. Only his eyes were all screwy, like what he was doing to me was all in a day’s work. Like building a house, cooking hamburgers. You know, it didn’t mean nothing to him, what he was doing to me.

Hutch: Mr. Eckworth, can you think of any reason why somebody would want to do this to you?

Eckworth: No. I’ve been thinking…Then again the screwballs running around these days, who needs a reason for anything anymore?

Starsky: If someone’s bothering you, we could help.

Eckworth: No, there’s no one bothering me. (Hutch writes something down.)

Starsky: Okay. Thank you.

Eckworth: Sure.

Hutch: Mr. Eckworth, if there’s anything at all, we’d appreciate a call. (Hands him the paper.)

Eckworth: Sure. (They head for the door.)

Hutch: Oh, there is one more thing. Your lifetime batting average.

Eckworth: .247, why? (Hutch looks surprised. Starsky looks smug.)

Hutch: Just wondering.

(Starsky and Hutch exit the hospital.)

Hutch: Something doesn’t make sense, Starsk.

Starsky: Aw, that’s what you say about all our busted-leg cases.

Hutch: Oh, come on, I’m serious.

Starsky: All right. Someone set himself up in a business with a baseball bat, right?

Hutch: Okay. Now, whether Eckworth can think of a reason or not, he was just a cash and carry tap on the legs. We can probably say the same thing about Billy Chartreuse and the laundry dealer. But who’d wanna pay a nickel for Jimmy Shannon?

Starsky: You get a feeling you’re in for a run of bad luck?

Hutch: What are you talking about? (Points to Hutch’s car. He has a flat tire.) Hey! Those are my brand-new recaps. You know what I paid for these, Starsk?

Starsky: Probably more than the whole car’s worth.

Hutch: Yeah, well, at least I don’t drive around in a striped tomato you gotta tune up every time you drive around a block.

Starsky: Yeah, well, with this hunk of squash, I imagine every 5o to 70,000 miles is okay.

Hutch: Watch it.

Starsky: Don’t get excited. It’s only flat on the bottom.

(Hutch puts the key into the trunk lock and it explodes. Hutch falls back. He looks at his burnt hand. He groans. Starsky eases him on to the grass.)

Starsky: Come on. It’s okay. Come on.

Hutch: God.

Starsky: Come on. It’s okay. (Hutch writhes in pain.)

Dobey’s Office: Day

(Hutch’s hand is nearly completely bandaged up. He’s sat on a chair, while Dobey’s behind his desk and Starsky’s getting some water.)

Dobey: All right, when did this start?

Hutch: It started last night, captain. Somebody put a rat in my cold cuts. (Starsky downs some water.) Hey. (Starsky goes back to the fountain to get more.)

Dobey: That’s what burns my fuse out. How come I don’t hear about these things before the bombs go off?

Hutch: You were telling us about Lloyd Eckworth, cap. I thought that was more important. Would you open that please? (Hands Starsky a bottle of pills.)

Starsky: My pleasure.

Dobey: No, you didn’t. You wanted a private party. And rule number one in this precinct is no, absolutely, flat out, no private parties. Do you hear me? (Hutch swallows his pills.)

Hutch: Talk to Starsky. He ate the rat.

Dobey: All right, Hutchinson. Do you have any idea who started this?

Hutch: I wish I did, captain. What’s scary is to try to think back over six years on the force and try to remember all the weirdoes you’ve alienated.

Dobey: If you think six years is something wait till you get 26 years in.

Hutch: Yeah.

Dobey: By the way, you guys had a call from Eckworth. Says he remember something about the bum who asked him for money wearing a pair of two-tone shoes.

Starsky: Grease in your hair and worms in your toes.

Dobey: Would you mind interpreting that?

Hutch: Arty Solkin. (They head out the door.) Where’s my jacket?

Starsky: I thought you had it on.

Hotel Bremen: Day

(The Torino pulls up outside, Starsky and Hutch enter the hotel. The desk clerk watches them enter)

Starsky: Arty Solkin. What room?

Clerk: Hey, come on. They guy’s up all night. He’s sleeping now, all right?

Starsky: That’s all right. We don’t mind.

Clerk: 201. Nice guys you are.

Starsky: Keep your hands off the phone. We’re gonna surprise him. (They head upstairs.)

Arty’s Room: Day

(Arty’s in the bathroom when the phone rings. He answers it.)

Arty: Arty. What? (Listens.) Thanks. )Hangs up and pours himself a drink. He opens

the door and sits down at the table. The door swings open.)

Starsky: Hi, Arty. Say, this is a nice looking place you got here. Too bad you don’t got a couple of kitty-cats.

Arty: Can the birdseed. What do you what?

Starsky: Well, straight out, we’d like to apologise. We’re sorry we stepped on your rosebush. (They enter.)

Arty: I told you, can the birdseed. What do you want?

Hutch: Don’t be like that, Arty. We got a whole new can of worms. Like where were you and your shiny wingtip shoes last night, huh? Let’s go. (Starsky picks up Arty’s jacket, while Hutch pulls Arty to his feet.)

Arty: Don’t you guys ever get tired of bothering me?

Starsky: It’s no bother, Arty. Besides, we love you. (They lead him out the door.)

Police Station: Day

(Five men are lined up against a wall with a policeman beside them)

Mike: All right, Bob. Take one step forward. Still can’t keep your raincoat buttoned up, huh? (Hutch, Starsky and Eckworth are watching.) All right, give us a quarter turn to the right. You’re doing fine, Bob. Now, give us a half turn to the right.

Hutch: There’s not one face up there that you vaguely recognise? (Eckworth sighs and shrugs.)

Mike: All right, give us a quarter turn to the right, Bob. Okay, step back. Next man, Arthur Solkin. (Arty steps forwards.) It’s been a while since we’ve seen you, Arty. Still got all your little pack rats stealing for you?

Arty: You never proved anything ever on me.

Mike: Okay, Arty, why don’t you just give us cute little profile. (Arty turns to the side, everyone looks at him.)

Eckworth: No, I’m afraid not, I…I just can’t remember the guy’s face.

Mike: Quarter turn to the right, Arty.

Hutch: You remember a pair of two-tone shoes, but you can’t remember the face of the man who set you up?

Eckworth: Yeah, I guess that’s it.

Mike: Quarter turn to the right, Arty.

Eckworth: What does it say for us? Just a bum. Give him some money. That’s easy. But don’t look him in the face. Might recognise a human being if you do that.

Hutch: Yeah.

Mike: Quarter turn to the right, Arty.

Eckworth: Sorry, I, I ju, I can’t help you. Come on, let’s get out of here.

Mike: Okay, step back. (Eckworth’s wife wheels him away.) Is that it?

Starsky: Get them out of here, Mike.

Mike: All right, you heard the man. Let’s boogie. (The men file out. Along with both the unformed officers.)

Hutch: You get the feeling that Eckworth’s not telling us all he knows?

Starsky: You know, when I was 9 years old and I saw that guy hit that inside-the-park home run.

Hutch: Yeah.

Starsky: I thought he was about the greatest man that ever lived. (They get up and leave.)

Hotel Bremen: Day

(Tommy’s in his room, lying on his bed, staring up at the light bulb. Arty enters, Tommy’s startled.)

Tommy: Arty? (His vision is blurry. He wipes his eyes.) Arty, they told me the cops took you away. (Arty sits next to him.)

Arty: They can never prove nothing on me. You’re glad to see me, aren’t you, kid? (Searches his pockets.) We got work to do. (Hands Tommy a picture.)

Tommy: She’s pretty.

Arty: Yeah. He never should have arrested me today. He should have known. I’m a kind of guy that does his homework. Her name is Abby. The blond cop’s blond girlfriend. (He lights a cigarette and Tommy stares at the picture of Abby smiling.)

A restaurant: Day

(A waitress serves food to Hutch, Abby and Starsky’s table.)

Abby: He has the tuna. I have the pastrami. (Switches the plates.)

Hutch: Waitress? (To Abby) You want something to drink?

Abby: Yeah, iced tea, please.

Hutch: Iced tea and milk, please.

Starsky: You don’t want some mustard?

Abby: Uh, no. You sure?

Starsky: No. Not hungry. (Hutch looks surprised.)

Abby: Okay, so the guy couldn’t identify a suspect. Maybe he wasn’t the right guy.

Hutch: Abby, we’ve got the right guy. Solkin’s involved in those murders.

Abby: Wanna know something?

Starsky: Here’s Huggy.

Hutch: What? (Looks over his shoulder.)

Abby: I don’t care. I want you to catch that crazy who’s blowing up your car and putting rats in your refrigerator.

Hutch: We will, sweetheart, we will.

(Huggy sits in a booth beside them.)

Huggy: What’s happening?

Starsky: What’d you hear about Jimmy Shannon?

Huggy: He died a perfectly natural death in a warehouse frequented by this own best friends.

Abby: I’ll have dinner ready by 7.

Starsky: Eckworth? Lloyd Eckworth?

Huggy: Nothing special.

Abby: Hutch?

Hutch: I’ll be there, sweetheart.

Huggy: Word is, Eckworth made the mistake of refusing a partnership offer somebody made him. Happens all the time.

Starsky: Well, that explains a lot.

Hutch: Like what?

Starsky: Like all those sudden lapses in memory.

Abby: Promise?

Hutch: What?

Abby: (Whine) Hutch.

Hutch: Abby, I promise. I’ll be there. I’ll be there for dinner. We just have one more guy to see. (Huggy’s ordered a Sundae. Starsky stares at it longingly. At the bar, Tommy is watching them.)

Another restaurant: Night.

(A waiter whispers to one of the boys in the kitchen and he goes over to a table where Starsky and Hutch are sat at.)

Hutch: Hey, Billy. Sit down. (He sits down.)

Billy: What do you guys want?

Hutch: Well, Billy, we’d like a little information about Arty Solkin.

Billy: Hey, I’m clean. I ain’t got nothing to do with him anymore.

Starsky: Oh, we know that. That’s why we’re talking to you. But you used to run with Arty, right?

Billy: Yeah, but that was before the spook.

Hutch: The Spook?

Billy: Spook. Name’s Tommy something. And let me tell you this is one crazy dude. I mean, all he does is lay on his bed all day long looking up at the light bulb in the ceiling.

Starsky: Interesting, huh? (They both smile.) Do you think this guy could kill anyone? (Billy looks scared and stands up, but Starsky grabs his hand and he sits.)

Hutch: It’s all right, Billy.

Billy: Well, one night, we was sniffing and drinking a little red wine, right? And, uh, Tommy, told me that he killed his whole family someplace back in Indiana.

Hutch: You believe him?

Billy: I moved out the next day.

Hotel Bremen: Night.

(Starsky rings the bell, the clerk looks annoyed.)

Starsky: Arty Solkin. Get him down here.

Clerk: He ain’t here right now.

Hutch: How about his friend Tommy?

Clerk: He’s with Arty. I don’t know where they went.

Hutch: What’s his room number?

Clerk: 606

Hutch: How about the key, huh?

Clerk: It’s always open.

(Starsky and Hutch go up to the room. The door creaks open. The light bulb’s still on.)

Starsky: Guess whose working nights. (They enter.) Oh, I’ll get the bureau. (He looks around a little.) Nothing. (Checks the drawers.) Empty. What does this spook wear on Sunday? Nothing. Empty. (Hutch checks the bed and finds a newspaper.)

Hutch: Starsk. I guess he wasn’t lying to Billy Ryan, was he?

Starsky: Let’s get out of here. (Drops the paper and walks out. The headline says “Honour Student Sought in Slaying Of Family.”)

Venice Place: Night.

(Abby is preparing dinner. She checks the food and puts the plates on the table. Outside, Arty pulls up.)

Abby: I know that, Donna. But even cops have a personal life. With Hutch? All I know is I’m gonna talk to him about it tonight. Yeah, I’ll let you know. Gotta go. Bye-bye. (Hangs up.)

(Outside, Tommy and Arty are sat in the car.)

Tommy: Be smarter just to kill her, wouldn’t it?

Arty: I don’t want you to kill her. I want that blond cop down in the street, looking up at me. Maybe I’ll throw him a quarter. Maybe I’ll walk on him. Go on. Enjoy yourself. (Tommy gets out and enters the building.)

(Upstairs, Abby’s putting candles and a present on the table. Tommy walks slowly up the stairs. Abby lights the candles. There’s a knock on the door and Abby answers it. She tries to close it, but Tommy easily pushes his way in.)

Dobey’s Office: Night.

(Hutch is on the phone and Starsky’s sat in front of the desk when Dobey enters.)

Dobey: I just got this from R&I. (Hands Starsky a file.) Indiana’s had an APB out on Marlowe for the last six months. Killed his whole family. What’s he doing on my phone?

Starsky: Trying to explain to his girlfriend why he’s an hour late for dinner. (Hutch hangs up.)

Hutch: Line’s still busy. She’s probably talking to her girlfriend.

Dobey: You say this Marlowe kid stares at a light bulb all day? What’s happening with him? (Phone rings.)

Hutch: Maybe he’s just going through his brain with a blowtorch, trying to burn out old memories.

Dobey: Dobey here.

Starsky: Meanwhile, we got enough here to bring in Arty Solkin and break his little heart over a chair.

Dobey: Hutch. Somebody’s hurt Abby. (They all leave.)

Venice Place: Night

(Abby’s lying on the floor with paramedics around her, feeding her oxygen. Hutch barges in, but is restrained by a paramedic.)

Paramedic: Hey. She’s all right. She’s alive. She’ll be all right.

Starsky: What?

Paramedic: Hey, look, I don’t want to blow you guys out…

Hutch: What?! (Grabs the paramedic.)

Starsky: Come on, easy, easy.

Paramedic: He broke her up pretty bad.

Hutch: Did he rape her?

Paramedic: Well, it looks like her tried. I don’t think he made it. (Hutch leans down next to Abby.)

Hutch: Abby. Abby. Abby.

Abby: Oh, Hutch. (Hutch pushes the table out the way.) Oh, Hutch, I’m sorry.

Hutch: Abby. Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault.

Abby: Hutch.

Hutch: Easy. (He helps the paramedics lift her onto the gurney.) Easy, easy. (They wheel her away.)

Starsky: What have we got? Anything?

Dobey: Well, from the junk on the floor we got this. A piece of material. She must have ripped his pocket out. Wanna see it?

Starsky: No.

Dobey: From the hold she had on it, they could hardly get it out of her hand. (He walks off. Starsky notices a coin amongst the junk.)

Hutch: Shouldn’t have let her come up here…not after what happened the other night.

Starsky: Yeah, don’t do that to yourself. Hey, you remember what Jimmy Shannon had on him? (Shows Hutch the coin.) Huh? J.F.K., ’64. Look, Abby grabbed his pocket and pulled this out. ’64 J.F.K.

Hutch: Arty Solkin has a jar full of those.

Starsky: Come on. (They run out the door.)

Hotel Bremen: Night.

(Tommy’s lying on his bed staring up at the light bulb. On his bedside table is a picture of Hutch and Abby.)

Arty: Tommy. (Tommy barely seems to be breathing.) Go on. Get some rest.

(Outside the car pulls up. Hutch runs into the building followed by Starsky. Inside, Hutch runs up the stairs and turns to the clerk.)

Hutch: Give me the phone.

Clerk: What?

Hutch: Give me the phone! (Grabs the phone.)

Clerk: Hey! (Hutch pulls it loose.)

Hutch: Now, sit down and shut up. (He runs up stairs while Starsky walks.)

Starsky: I’d do what he says.

(In Arty’s room he’s colouring his hair. The door slams open. He cowers be the bathroom door.)

Arty: What do you think you’re doing here?

Hutch: John Fitzgerald Kennedy, ’64. My girl ripped it out of his pocket. (Grabs Arty by the front and pushes him up against the wall.) Arty, I’m going upstairs now. And I’m gonna give your boyfriend a shock treatment. And then I’m coming down here and I’m gonna talk to you. So put some coffee on and pour us a drink. (Turns to leave, then grabs Arty and throws him into some newspapers. He leaves and Arty crawls for the phone.)

Starsky: Arty. Tell me about Jimmy. An Irish kid from Cleveland. Seventeen going on 100. What happened?

Arty: Tommy killed them. I didn’t kill them.

(In Tommy’s room he’s freaking out. He turns the light on and off. Keeping it off. He puts his hands in his head and slumps on the bed, crying. Hutch kicks open the door.)

Tommy: Arty? Arty, I can’t… (Hutch grabs him and throws him against the wall and then throws him down on the bed. Hutch jumps on him) What are you mad about? What are you mad about? I didn’t kill her. I swear to God, I didn’t kill her. I swear to God, I did exactly like you said. I didn’t touch her. Look. Honest, Arty, honest. Don’t be mad at me. Don’t be mad at me. You’re all I got. Wait a minute. I want to show you something. Look, look. (Shows Hutch the pictures of him and Abby.) I brought the picture back for you. Look. Look, I brought the picture for you. I brought it for you. I thought you’d like it. I could take it back. Arty, I could. Look. (Hutch gets up off him and walks away.) No. Don’t go away. Don’t go away. Arty? (Hutch sits down.)

Hutch: I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

Tommy: I didn’t mean to make you mad. I could bring the picture back somehow.

Hutch: No, you keep it. It’s all right. (The door opens. It’s Starsky. He turns on the light.)

Tommy: Arty?

Hutch: What?

Tommy: I’m scared. I can’t see.

The Park: Day.

(Abby and Hutch are sat under a tree. Abby’s arm is in a sling and Hutch is opening a bottle.)

Abby: Hutch, there’s something I have to tell you.

Hutch: Ah. (The cork comes out.) Absolutely. But first you gotta taste some of this great wine. I got some of that, uh, Norwegian cheese. Your favourite. Isn’t it a beautiful day?

Abby: Hutch, it’s important.

Hutch: I’m sorry, Abby. What is it? (A car horn honks. A man waves at them from a beetle.) Hey, isn’t that your brother?

Abby: Mm-hm.

Hutch: What’s he doing here? I didn’t invite him.

Abby: I’m going home, Hutch.

Hutch: What? Home? (She nods) Why?

Abby: I have to. I was really scared. I guess I never thought about dying before. (Starsky comes up behind them.)

Starsky: Hey! There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you. It’s not easy hauling this junk around, you know. Hey, come on. Pick a card. Any card. (Holds out a pack of cards to Hutch.)

Hutch: Starsky, what’s that?

Starsky: My baseball trading cards. I dug them out last night. Will you pick a card? Come on. (Hutch takes one. Abby kisses Hutch and stands up.)

Hutch: Well, what am I supposed to do?

Starsky: Read the card. Read the name on the card. (Abby walks away.)

Hutch: It’s Minnie Minoso.

Starsky: Saturnino Orestes. That was his real name. Saturnino Orestes. His nickname was Minnie Minoso. Started out with Cleveland in ’49. He switched on and off with the Chi Sox till ’61. (Hutch watches Abby go.) Finished out his career in ’62 with the Cleveland Indians. Batted .303 for a lifetime average.

Hutch: Starsky.

Starsky: Hmm?

Hutch: Starsky. She’s going away.

Starsky: I know that.

Hutch: What do you mean, you know that?

Starsky: She told me. (Hutch makes a move, but Starsky grabs his arm.) Doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.

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