"What's up, Cap?" Starsky slouched into one of the chairs in front of Captain Dobey's desk, while Hutch sat more properly in the other.
"It's pretty nasty." He pushed the file across his desk; Hutch grabbed it first, and Starsky craned his neck to read over his shoulder. "We're guessing a gang war of some kind -- the muscle staying in the club's been getting picked off at night. The boss blames this guy, so he hires a thug, who --"
"You're kidding." Starsky reached that part of the report at the same time. "Rips off the guy's arm and throws it up on the roof?"
"Where's the rest of the guy?" Hutch wanted to know.
"He hasn't been found yet. That's your job. Check the hospitals, the morgue -- he can't have gotten far. Last known address is his mother's. See what she knows."
"We're on it, Cap." Starsky winked jauntily and Hutch nodded on their way out the door, and Dobey sighed at their antics. Still, he knew he could trust them to get to the bottom of it. They were the best of men.
Pages created and maintained Last modified 22 August 2003
by Lorelei