\n
<\/p>\nHutch scowled at the red and green stuffed elf perched on the plate of Christmas cookies beside the coffee pot. Not that he\u2019d ever say it out loud but the ubiquitous holiday decoration had always given him the creeps. <\/p>\n
To make matters worse, he was exhausted, with gritty eyes and an aching back. Last night, he\u2019d had the first of what was generally an annual cluster of nightmares. They faded into memory after the first of the year but until then, he\u2019d be haunted by an evil faced elf creeping towards him, fangs bared. He\u2019d had the bad dreams nearly all his life, but he never got used to them. Coupled with the 19th anniversary of his grandmother\u2019s death made the Christmas holidays difficult to bear. <\/p>\n
Hutch rapidly poured a cup of coffee, turning his back on the elf\u2019s inane grin. <\/p>\n
\u201cStill in the elf hater\u2019s club?\u201d Starsky stashed the jolly toy in a file cabinet drawer. \u201cHelen made fudge to make up for leaving me at the holidays\u2026\u201d he sing-songed, holding out a tin.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot hungry,\u201d Hutch sighed, taking a mouthful of coffee. Of all the sweets, he really did like fudge, but his Christmas nightmares took all the joy out of everything.<\/p>\n
\u201cMore for me.\u201d Starsky raised his eyebrows, taking a bite of the chocolatey goodness as if trying to reel Hutch into having the treat.<\/p>\n
On any other day, Hutch might have taken the bait. He felt wrung dry, unable to shake the vision of the elf ready to suck out his life-force. It was a completely irrational fear, those sorts of things never popped up in Bay City. <\/p>\n
\u201cStarsky, Hutchinson!\u201d Dobey stood in front of his office door, his red and green holly tie clashing horribly with a wine colored jacket. \u201cI\u2019ve got a case for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood morning to you, too, Cap\u2019tn!\u201d Starsky announced with a grin, licking his chocolate streaked fingers. \u201cI was wondering when you\u2019d find something for us to do.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hutch stared at his partner\u2014Starsky was entirely too cheerful\u2014and then realized that he and Dobey must have exactly the same expressions on their faces. Maybe the captain didn\u2019t harbor good feelings about the holiday season either.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn my office.\u201d Dobey stomped back into his lair. He opened a folder and extracted two photographs as Starsky and Hutch walked in.<\/p>\n
Hutch took the chair, weary enough to wish he was back home in bed. Except, then, he\u2019d only dream of homicidal elves. Therefore, no sleep for the next month. That was his plan, unrealistic as it might be.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you have for us, Cap?\u201d Starsky asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you two seen the posters for that Christmas fair called Dickensian Village?\u201d Dobey placed the photographs in front of them. \u201cIt\u2019s due to open this afternoon but there have been two murders in two days.\u201d<\/p>\n
Both pictures showed elderly victims, quite dead, the bodies oddly deflated as if they no longer had any substance at all. Hutch felt the blood drain from his face and was suddenly hot, the room so airless he could barely breathe.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened to them?\u201d Starsky squeaked, plopping down on the arm of the chair Hutch was sitting in to examine the pictures more closely.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s your job to find out!\u201d Dobey shouted. <\/p>\n
Clearly, he was disturbed at the sight of the corpses, too. In an effort to sound like a competent detective, Hutch cleared his throat, forcing himself to calm down. \u201cWhen and where were they found?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJohnathan Waterston was found in the back of the Santa Claus display on Wednesday,\u201d Dobey explained, digging a chubby finger into the knot of his tie to loosen it around his neck. \u201cHe was an historian hired by the Victoriana Society to help make the Dickensian Village as authentic as possible. At first, it was assumed he\u2019d had a heart attack or stroke. He was 70.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNatural assumption,\u201d Starsky agreed. \u201cBut?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe autopsy hadn\u2019t even been done when the second body was found this morning just after the organizers from the society arrived,\u201d Dobey continued. \u201cThis woman is Garland Flowers\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s her real name?\u201d Hutch asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cApparently.\u201d Dobey\u2019s mouth was a grim line. \u201cShe was in exactly the same spot as Waterston, in the same position, looking like she\u2019d been drained dry\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cOf life,\u201d Starsky finished in a hushed voice. <\/p>\n
Hutch swallowed against a very dry throat and thought of his grandmother, seeing her after death, pale and impossibly flattened. As if drained of life. He inhaled twice before he could speak. \u201cDid any of the workers\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCast members, the same as what workers at Disneyland are called,\u201d Dobey said gruffly.<\/p>\n
\u201cCast members see anything?\u201d Hutch pressed, \u201cNear the body? S-small, uh, disturbing shadows or\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have a theory, Sherlock?\u201d Starsky mimed peering through a magnifying glass.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no,\u201d Hutch said quickly. They\u2019d think him crazy if he posited that the killer had been a green and red elf with sharp teeth. Vampiric elves, yeah, that was realistic. Yet, he couldn\u2019t shake the conviction that he was dead on the money. \u201cWe\u2019d better go visit this place, talk to the witnesses \u2013\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cCast members,\u201d Starsky reminded.<\/p>\n
~*~<\/p>\n
\u201cHutch, I\u2019ve known you since 1968, and you\u2019ve had these weird elf nightmares every single year since then,\u201d Starsky said, driving through Bay City midmorning traffic. \u201cAt least, I assume you had them in \u201968 and \u201969, \u2018cause you were weird about December even then, but I didn\u2019t know why yet. It\u2019s now 1974, and time to interpret those dreams, dig out the whys\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy what?\u201d Hutch repeated, sounding inane even to himself. \u201cStarsk, let\u2019s stick to this case. It\u2019s crazy enough without bringing\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, but you started it,\u201d Starsky interrupted. \u201cI saw your face. You were nearly as white as those bodies. Like you\u2019d seen that before. And you\u2019re the one who started describing disturbing shadows\u2014about a murder location you\u2019ve never been to.\u201d<\/p>\n
Busted. However, Hutch knew ways to deflect Starsky\u2019s curiosity. \u201cYou\u2019re interpreting dreams now? What brought this on? Because Helen went out of town, you had to find something else to do with your nights?\u201d He added a cynical laugh, for effect.<\/p>\n
Starsky and Helen Davisson had been dating on and off for a few months. Long enough that Hutch suspected the romance was turning serious. Although the two of them fought like combating centurions, they made up easily, and Starsky seemed genuinely in love. He and Helen spent a great deal of time together, but always made sure to include Hutch once a week. He had begun to feel like a third wheel. Starsky and Helen didn\u2019t need to coddle him simply because his final attempt to salvage his marriage to Van had died the death it should have three years earlier. Their relationship was over, but Starsky had the chance at a future with a beautiful woman who shared his passion for police work. Helen had taken the month of December off to be with her sick mother.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey!\u201d Starsky poked a finger at him when he stopped for a red light. \u201cI\u2019ll have you know it\u2019s all Helen\u2019s fault. She was reading this book on dream interpretation and left it at my place when she flew to Santa Fe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you\u2019re reading it now?\u201d Hutch scoffed with as much disinterest as he could muster. <\/p>\n
\u201cExactly. So elves\u2026what could that be in dream symbology?\u201d Starsky said thoughtfully, turning right. A huge sign bordered with repeating red and green curlie-cues directed them to Dickensian Village: The Magic of Christmas Brought to Life.<\/p>\n
An ironic slogan in light of what happened. As Starsky drove closer to a warehouse decorated with a huge green garland and two towering Christmas trees, Hutch fought the panic knotting his belly. He\u2019d hidden the terror down deep for so many years. What would it hurt if he confessed his fears? That he knew very well that the elves weren\u2019t simply dream manifestations of some repressed longing or oedipal complex.<\/p>\n
\u201cStarsk,\u201d Hutch blurted out before the last shred of bravery left him. \u201cThey\u2019re not really\u2026dreams.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are they?\u201d Starsky parked in an area marked employees.<\/p>\n
\u201cM-memories,\u201d Hutch whispered, sweat breaking out all over his body. Could he do this? Delve into the most terrifying time of his life when he hadn\u2019t known if he would survive?<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve lost me.\u201d Starsky turned, facing Hutch, hiking his right knee onto the upholstered bench seat so that it touched Hutch\u2019s left thigh.<\/p>\n
That grounded Hutch, gave him courage and hope. Hope that this wasn\u2019t a repeat of 1955. \u201cWhen I was ten, we went to England, ostensibly because my dad had a temporary job to design a pipeline, but also to visit my mother\u2019s mother who had been living there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI remember, you tol\u2019 me your grandma was from Norway and went to London during the war.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRight, and my mother moved to the US when she met my dad who was stationed at an air force base in England.\u201d Hutch found setting the history into place helped center him, too. He could get through this. \u201cTwo weeks before Christmas, we stayed with Grandmother in her cottage\u2014very old fashioned, very\u2026\u201d He gestured at a poster by the warehouse door with a drawing of a half-timbered, thatched roof cottage above a list of the delights of Dickensian Village. \u201cVery Dickens-like. My sister and I were having a great time, so my parents went for a weekend by themselves at a bed and breakfast.\u201d<\/p>\n
Starsky nodded, totally absorbed in the story. <\/p>\n
\u201cLate in the afternoon, as it was getting dark, Grandmother took me shopping in the local high street, leaving Karen with a new friend from down the lane.\u201d Hutch gulped a breath, the fear rising inside him like a damned monster in one of Starsky\u2019s favorite drive-in movie classics. \u201cThere was a grotto on the town green, for Father Christmas, but he wasn\u2019t there. I didn\u2019t really care, \u2018cause I was ten\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cDidn\u2019t believe anymore, did you?\u201d Starsky smiled, patting Hutch\u2019s corduroy clad knee.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course not. I wanted to buy a Beano magazine and a Cadbury assortment at the shop for Karen, so I walked past the grotto.\u201d Hutch closed his eyes, seeing the weird shadow behind the golden throne erected for Father Christmas. The hint of green and the gruesome red mouth, full of glistening teeth. \u201cGrandmother called to me, almost running\u2026I think she\u2019d seen the\u2014\u201c What could he call them that made them less threatening? \u201cCreature before I really did.\u201d<\/p>\n
It had been over in seconds. A flash of a hideous green body, a gaping mouth and then Sissel Mortensen was lying in the high street like a spent balloon, her skin dry as husk and her blue eyes widened in permanent shock.<\/p>\n
\u201cI tried calling out to people, but I couldn\u2019t move, couldn\u2019t touch her,\u201d Hutch said, that aching sadness that he\u2019d been unable to save his Grandmother back full force. He\u2019d stood there and watched her die, watched a horrible green and red being take her from him.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s\u2026\u201d Starsky spoke into the hush, almost panting from the tale, \u201castonishing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t believe me?\u201d Hutch spat. This is why he\u2019d never brought it up since he\u2019d told his parents. Who had immediately assumed he had some sort of trauma-induced fantasy and assured him that Grandma had had a heart attack. After all, she was over fifty. \u201cI know it sounds absurd, like a\u2026a movie script\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course I believe you!\u201d Starsky said staunchly. \u201cBut you gotta admit, it\u2019s weird.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf it hadn\u2019t happened to me, I wouldn\u2019t believe it.\u201d Hutch let out a pent up breath. \u201cThat\u2019s not the half of it. The first person who found me was a doctor. He and his\u2014I don\u2019t know exactly what she was, an assistant or a nurse, I was never quite sure, they gathered up grandmother\u2019s body and took us to a hospital.\u201d He could see the place in his mind\u2019s eye, clear as day. A narrow blue door\u2014they\u2019d gone inside and the place was huge, far bigger than it appeared on the outside. Full of really cutting edge equipment that he couldn\u2019t even begin to understand. Spent, young Kenny had sat on a step, praying for grandmother, but the doctor had not been able to revive her. \u201cA blue door\u2026\u201d Hutch said softly. \u201cI didn\u2019t know there was a hospital in Shipston-on-Stour. When the doctor said he couldn\u2019t save her, I went numb inside, I think. Must have been in shock.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s tough for any kid to see,\u201d Starsky murmured sympathetically.<\/p>\n
\u201cI barely remember what happened next,\u201d Hutch shrugged, something heavy lifting off his shoulders for the first time in nearly twenty years. It felt really good to unburden himself like this\u2014even at the cost of investigating the crime. He should have known Starsky would understand; he\u2019d seen his father killed when he was only a year or two older than Hutch had been. \u201cI never saw the doctor again. His assistant dealt with calling my parents home, collecting my sister, even taking grandmother to the funeral parlor. It\u2019s a jumble in my head.\u201d<\/p>\n
Starsky stiffened, pointing out the windshield at a woman in a red and black tartan hoop skirt and a lace cap a la one of the Bronte sisters. \u201cCrap, we forgot to go talk to the organizers of Dickensian Village.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLet\u2019s get on this,\u201d Hutch said rapidly, shoving open the car door. He felt oddly invigorated, relieved that Starsky hadn\u2019t ridiculed the notion of vicious, living elves. Taking a deep, satisfying breath of the brisk, cool air, Hutch looked over the roof of the car at his friend. \u201cThanks for listening to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Starsky looked straight into his eyes for a long moment. \u201cAnytime, buddy.\u201d He turned and walked up to the woman in red. \u201cDetective David Starsky, BCPD,\u201d he identified himself, holding up his badge. \u201cMy partner, Ken Hutchinson.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI wondered what had been keeping you!\u201d she said, her voice this side of shrill, anxiety evident in the way she waved her hands like wings. \u201cI\u2019m Hadley Larousse, co-chair of the Victoriana society.\u201d<\/p>\n
At second glance, she was far younger than Hutch had assumed. Probably in her late twenties, near to his age. He\u2019d expected some elderly biddy. \u201cMiss Larousse, would you be able to give us access to the crime scene?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is all so awful! I can\u2019t believe that Garland and John died so\u2014strangely,\u201d she exclaimed, looking from one to the other as if they could provide her immediate answers. \u201cCome in this way.\u201d She led Starsky and Hutch past a ticket counter and into a living photograph of Victorian England.<\/p>\n
\u201cWow, it looks a lot smaller on the inside,\u201d Starsky said, staring at the town crammed into the warehouse.<\/p>\n
Hutch was impressed: it truly was like stepping back 100 years to take a stroll through Piccadilly or Oxford Circle in London. Costumed shopkeepers were stocking their shelves with delicate tea sets, marmalade, and leather-bound books. Cast members congregated in groups to rehearse comments in proper British or streetwise Cockney designed to draw visitors into believing they were speaking with citizens of old England. There were stalls for roasted chestnuts, Punch and Judy shows, and gypsy fortune tellers. The shop windows had been artfully frosted to suggest a nip in the air, holly and mistletoe hung over doorways, and the strains of a boys\u2019 choir singing carols serenaded passersby. Hutch even saw a butchers with an enormous turkey hanging in the window, just like in the final scenes of Dickens\u2019 A Christmas Carol.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would this happen?\u201d Hadley trilled unhappily. \u201cThe doors open to the VIP guests this afternoon at four and then the public at six today! If publicity like this gets out, we\u2019ll be ruined.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMore like deluged with morbid curiosity seekers,\u201d Starsky muttered, stopping to examine a display of men\u2019s headwear, both silk and beaver-skinned top hats.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d Hadley said louder, as Artful Dodger and Oliver Twist ran by practicing their patter.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe said that hopefully we\u2019ll find the answers we seek,\u201d Hutch interpreted, shooting Starsky a glare.<\/p>\n
But Starsky had wandered down the lane to a shop selling ladies\u2019 clothing. A stunning wine colored silk corset was featured in the window with lace unmentionables like pantaloons and night clothes draped on a tiny bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d love to see Helen get one of those,\u201d Starsky commented.<\/p>\n
Hutch searched the area, a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach. There was a half-timbered house to his right with a woman putting jars of jellies and jams on a tray, and what seemed to be an indoor garden to his right. Evergreen trees growing in pots surrounded a raised platform adorned with red and white roses. In the middle was a golden throne. A red velvet cap trimmed in white ermine hung jauntily over the arm of the chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cSanta\u2019s grotto?\u201d Hutch asked, feeling the blood drain from his face. \u201cI mean, Father Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, in England, Father Christmas is more commonly used,\u201d Hadley agreed. She pointed beyond the chair, behind the potted pines. \u201cBoth Garland and John were found\u2026\u201d She bit her bottom lip, the lace of her cap fluttering as she trembled. She pulled herself together with rapid exhale. \u201cI arrived early this morning and my co-chair Kathleen was crying, said that Garland was dead. I saw her high buttoned shoes peeping out from behind the trees\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe coroner already came to remove the\u2026Garland?\u201d Starsky asked, walking into the grotto to examine the gold chair. <\/p>\n
Hadley nodded, clasping her hands to her d\u00e9colletage. Hutch hadn\u2019t really noticed until then how very low her dress was cut in front. Her round breasts were heaving. Was that really period?<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is Father Christmas?\u201d he asked, even though it sounded lame. But it was a legitimate question. Potentially, he could have been closest to the murdered victims if he had been in or around the grotto earlier.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlas,\u201d Hadley sighed in annoyance. \u201cAfter Noel Christmas\u2014his honest to gosh name, poor lamb\u2014found John\u2019s body, he quit. We\u2019ll have to find another Father Christmas on short notice, and he so looked the part. Do you know of any\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo!\u201d Starsky cut her off.<\/p>\n
\u201cHadley!\u201d A woman with masses of dark curls, dressed in a green velvet gown with black lace accents around the collar and elbow length sleeves, dashed up. \u201cThere you are! There\u2019s at least four men in the office, all here to audition for Father Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve got to deal with this,\u201d Hadley apologized. \u201cPlease, examine the area, but don\u2019t move anything without permission. John, bless him, created this entire place, got the atmosphere just perfect, and we want it to be his legacy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s terrific!\u201d Starsky waved his arms at their surroundings with a big grin. \u201cI\u2019d pay to come back again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m glad; we need the revenue.\u201d She hurried off with her friend. <\/p>\n
Hutch touched the golden throne, seeing his ten-year-old self hurrying past to a shop in his memory. Only, there wouldn\u2019t be any newsagent selling a Beano comic in Victorian England. Cadbury\u2019s, possibly. He banished the visions just as the boy he had been caught sight of the menacing creature.<\/p>\n
\u201cHutch?\u201d Starsky asked softly, guiding Hutch exactly where he didn\u2019t want to go, behind the grotto. \u201cI\u2019ve got what\u2019ll sound like one hell of a whacky theory, but\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m listening.\u201d Hutch looked deeply into Starsky\u2019s sincere blue eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou really believe in these\u2026evil elves, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUnfortunately.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat if they came back?\u201d Starsky touched his toe to the overlapping chalk lines that were all that was left to represent John Waterston and Garland Flowers. \u201cWhat you told me sounds just like what happened to your grandma.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStarsk, that was nearly twenty years ago, in rural England.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoesn\u2019t it seem like we\u2019re back further than that in merry olde\u2014?\u201d Starsky barked a short laugh. \u201cI know, it\u2019s insane, but the facts are there. All three old\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
Hutch hadn\u2019t even caught that similarity. \u201cAll three sucked dry of life, or so it appears, all three died in the dark\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
Starsky frowned. \u201cI thought you said you went with your grandma in the afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe United Kingdom is farther north than California; it gets dark by three-thirty in December,\u201d Hutch said, something clutching his heart. Was this really happening? Could it be possible that the elves were back? He didn\u2019t want to believe that, but in light of all that they\u2019d pieced together, there was no other logical explanation.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere could they be now?\u201d Starsky asked reasonably. \u201cAnd why just older people? Unless they\u2019ve attacked lots of people in the last twenty years that we don\u2019t know about.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVery possible,\u201d Hutch mused, wondering for the first time ever what had happened to the elf once it killed his grandmother. Had the doctor done something? If so what? \u201cI can imagine that very few people are going to admit to\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSeeing an elf murder a senior citizen?\u201d Starsky asked rhetorically. \u201cSo where exactly did they come from? Where\u2019ve they been hiding since 1955?\u201d<\/p>\n
Very valid questions.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll never find them at this hour. We have to come back at night.\u201d Decisions made, Hutch wanted to get this done pronto. He was an adult now, not a ten-year-old, and he carried a powerful handgun. He could blow one of those damned sprites away for what they had done to his grandmother.<\/p>\n
\u201cGot to talk to the lover-ly Mz Larousse, then.\u201d Starsky winked at him. \u201cI saw the way you looked at her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was admiring her\u2014costume,\u201d Hutch clutched at an explanation that didn\u2019t make him sound like a letch. \u201cWe\u2019ll need to call Dobey. Think there\u2019s a telephone in London-town?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd find something to wear.\u201d Starsky ran over to the display of men\u2019s hats. \u201cI can just see you wearing something like that.\u201d He popped the top hat on Hutch\u2019s head. <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m already tall enough, Starsk,\u201d Hutch removed the hat, running his thumb along the brim. It wasn\u2019t actual beaver fur, but the fake fur was velvety soft. \u201cYou\u2019re the one who likes to go undercover.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAw, c\u2019mon.\u201d <\/p>\n
Starsky\u2019s smile melted Hutch\u2019s resolve. \u201cI\u2019ll wear a waistcoat and high collar if you do,\u201d Hutch laughed. \u201cAs long as it gets us those fucking elves.\u201d<\/p>\n
~*~<\/p>\n
Hadley Larousse and her co-chair, Kathleen Parsons, a woman of very advanced years with a twinkle in her eye that rivaled Starsky\u2019s, were grateful to have the police in attendance for the opening celebrations. <\/p>\n
\u201cWe have extra costumes,\u201d Kathleen said, eyeing Starsky and then Hutch. \u201cYou\u2019re quite a tall young man, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n
It had been a while since anyone called Hutch a young man. He\u2019d passed his twenty-ninth birthday in August, but her pink cheeks, shining white hair caught into a snood, and laughing blue eyes reminded him so much of Grandmother Sissel that he couldn\u2019t help but match her smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey grow them tall in Minnesota.\u201d Starsky accepted a pair of striped trousers, a tartan green and black waistcoat, and short black jacket from Hadley.<\/p>\n
\u201cThese should fit you,\u201d she said. \u201cNow for a hat.\u201d She waved her hand at a collection in an open packing box. \u201cGet one for Hutch, too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know just what Hutch needs.\u201d Starsky\u2019s voice was muffled as he bent enthusiastically over the box.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re from Minnesota?\u201d Kathleen asked, the full skirts of her blue and green brocade gown rustling when she stood up from her desk. \u201cI lived there as a girl.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSmall world,\u201d Hutch said politely. He and Starsky had gone back to Metro to search for any other reports of suspicious deaths in the United States where an elderly person was drained of life, but it was virtually impossible to learn much quickly. He suspected that if witnesses had seen life-sucking elves attack, they would be understandably reluctant to admit it to authorities. \u201cWe are concerned that we are dealing with a copycat killer\u2014who may have left bodies all over. Possibly going back as many as twenty years.\u201d<\/p>\n
The two women stared at him, but while Hadley appeared shocked, Kathleen had a mournful resignation in her eyes.<\/p>\n
Hutch and Starsky had uncovered one death in Northern California that sounded similar, which brought their personal total up to four. A year ago, an old man had been found flattened and dry in an amusement park called Santa\u2019s Village, near Santa Cruz. He\u2019d been tucked under an enormous decorated tree outside Santa\u2019s workshop. Of course, not a single eyewitness had come forward. The one thing Hutch had gleaned from all accounts was that the elves seemed to congregate in areas where they had a natural camouflage. They were apparently intelligent, quick, and ruthless. What was their motive for the random killings?<\/p>\n
\u201cHutch!\u201d Starsky squeaked, emerging from the box with an armful of hats, a brown and black plaid deerstalker perched on his curls. \u201cI found a Sherlock Holmes hat!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow did that get in there?\u201d Hadley tsk-tsked, holding out her hand for the offending chapeau. \u201cNot right for your outfit, we\u2019re a few decades earlier in the 19th century. You\u2019d do better with the collapsible silk hat.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cBut it\u2019s cool!\u201d Starsky protested.<\/p>\n
\u201cStarsk, she\u2019s the expert here,\u201d Hutch said with a grin. Starsky did look cute, like a kid waiting for the next installment of Basil Rathbone\u2019s detective movies. <\/p>\n
\u201cCome back in January,\u201d Kathleen said, plucking the deerstalker off Starsky\u2019s head and tossing it back into the box. \u201cWe\u2019ll be hosting a lovely evening with the local chapter of the Baker Street Irregulars. It\u2019s great fun.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHound of the Baskervilles,\u201d Starsky said enthusiastically. He shuffled the hats he held until he could get the short crowned black hat on his head. Another one tumbled out of his clutches, leaving only a taller beaver fur top hat and a cloth cap in his arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow you\u2019ve created a monster.\u201d Hutch rolled his eyes at Kathleen. \u201cWhich hat did you want me to wear?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHadley!\u201d The dark haired woman dressed in green velvet Hutch had seen earlier poked her head through the door to the costume room, obviously breathless from rushing about. Hutch was beginning to think she never walked calmly. \u201cThere you are! The reporters are starting to arrive.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, my! It\u2019s later than I expected! Kerria, have them assemble in Piccadilly Circus and I\u2019ll be right there,\u201d Hadley explained. She glanced at herself in the mirror, smoothing a lock of perfectly coifed brown hair up under the lace cap. Her red and black tartan skirt seemed to snap crisply as she turned. \u201cKathleen, I\u2019ll welcome the mayor and the press\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd I\u2019ll give Starsky and Hutchinson their marching orders,\u201d Kathleen agreed amiably. She shook her head as Hadley bustled out. \u201cGood at organizing, but that girl does get in a tizzy.\u201d She took the top hat from Starsky and squared it on Hutch\u2019s head. \u201cThat\u2019s the one for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hutch peered at himself in the mirror. The hat gave him a gravitas and elegance he didn\u2019t normally feel in real life. <\/p>\n
\u201cWith a black frock coat and gray waistcoat and trousers, you\u2019ll look like a well-to-do gent.\u201d Kathleen nodded with satisfaction. \u201cMr. Starsky, please go change.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCall me Dave.\u201d Starsky winked at her and ducked into a curtained alcove.<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Hutchinson,\u201d Kathleen looked over at him, suddenly somber, \u201cbecause you are from Minnesota, I feel as if I should tell you something that happened to me a long time ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hutch felt an inward shiver of dread, which had never happened on any other case he\u2019d worked on previously. He was clearly over-identifying with these murders. \u201cSomething to do with what today\u2019s events?\u201d<\/p>\n
Kathleen nodded, turning to select a long black jacket with satin lapels and a gray suit from the rack of men\u2019s clothing. \u201cWhen I was young, my Great Aunt Agatha lived in Duluth and we\u2019d visit at Christmas time.\u201d She smoothed the shiny lapels with her fingers, the memory obviously a grave one. \u201cI was excited for Christmas and in the wee hours, crept down the stairs to the grand sitting room of her house. I saw\u2014\u201c She paused as if unable to continue.<\/p>\n
\u201cA green creature grabbing your aunt?\u201d Hutch asked very softly, the same image playing out in his mind\u2019s eye, only in Shipston-on-Stour.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought I\u2019d dreamed it all these years!\u201d Kathleen\u2019s anguish spilled out but she buttoned it up rapidly. \u201cOr that, I don\u2019t know, it was something that occurred only in Duluth, because it never happened again.\u201d<\/p>\n
Thank God. This was hitting too close to home, literally. \u201cUntil now.\u201d Hutch took the clothing from her. \u201cDid you see a green\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAn elf!\u201d She folded both hands together with a determined expression. \u201cI found Garland this morning. We were to meet and have a quick breakfast meeting before the others arrived. She was\u2026\u201d Kathleen shrugged. \u201cDrained of life, exactly like Agatha had been. I caught a glimpse of the elf slipping under Father Christmas\u2019 throne this morning, just a streak of green.\u201d Tears formed in her pale blue eyes, one running silently down her wrinkled cheek. \u201cI bent to check Garland\u2019s pulse. I used to be a nurse, but she was dead. I couldn\u2019t bring myself to tell the police who came this morning about the elf.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand because I\u2019ve seen it myself.\u201d Hutch gave her a quick hug. She\u2019d been a girl more than fifty years ago; how far back did these murders go? He had to find a way to stop the elf once and for all. <\/p>\n
\u201cI had a feeling that you could empathize,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do I look?\u201d Starsky emerged from the dressing alcove. He tucked his 20th century pistol in his pocket. <\/p>\n
\u201cLike a Dickensian swain,\u201d Kathleen declared, all semblance of sadness gone from her face. <\/p>\n
Starsky sent Hutch a quizzical glance that lightened Hutch\u2019s mood considerably and he went to change as well.<\/p>\n
~*~<\/p>\n
The opening festivities went off without a hitch. The mayor cut a ceremonial ribbon and VIPs received complimentary flutes of champagne as they toured Dickensian Village. The paying visitors swarmed in at six pm, swelling the citizenry of merry old England to the bursting. The new Father Christmas only stayed for a short while because he had another engagement, but he was swarmed with excited children while he sat in his grotto. <\/p>\n
Starsky and Hutch kept watch on the populace but both suspected that their suspect would not show up when there were quite so many people around. Every past murder-by-elves they\u2019d uncovered had occurred in the dark, at a relatively quiet time of night or early morning.<\/p>\n
In the meanwhile, Starsky and Hutch got to know the cast members and perused the shops. They explored intriguing back alleys where the boys playing Artful Dodger and Oliver Twist hung out with their mates, cheerfully picking pockets and then giving the loot back to their victims accompanied by a free ticket for a savoury treat at the meat pie stall.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is terrific!\u201d Starsky bit into a Cornish pasty, flakes of crust on his lips. \u201cHave one!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to go with Welsh rarebit,\u201d Hutch said, handing an apple-cheeked woman his ticket. She gave him a paper dish filled with rich melted cheddar cheese poured over a large slice of homemade toasted bread. Just the scent reminded him of eating lunch with his Grandmother on her last day. The first bite burned the roof of his mouth, but the next was heavenly.<\/p>\n
By ten o\u2019clock, the party was winding down. Most of the stalls and restaurants selling food were closing up, with only the Red Lion Pub still open. Located directly across from the exit, they were doing a brisk business in beer, hard cider, and perry. There was a band, complete with a very enthusiastic tuba player mid-way down the main thoroughfare accompanying a small crowd singing Christmas carols with a decidedly drunken verve. <\/p>\n
Hadley and Kathleen still looked beautiful in their Victorian finery, despite the fact that they\u2019d been dressed in the tight fitting dresses and old fashioned button up shoes for more than 12 hours by Hutch\u2019s reckoning. They thanked the visitors one and all for the wonderful evening and handed out half price tickets for return visits.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll be open for two more weekends until Christmas!\u201d Hadley called out.<\/p>\n
\u201cKenneth,\u201d Kathleen said, patting Hutch\u2019s hand like a grandmother. \u201cI am sure it was your presence, you and David, that helped make this night a true success. No sign of any\u2014well, you know.\u201d She glanced at Hadley chatting with a man wearing jeans and a Dickensian Village T-shirt, clearly not wanting certain ears to hear the details.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe can\u2019t be sure they won\u2019t come during the night,\u201d Hutch warned. He was determined to wait the elf out, until dawn, if necessary. \u201cI know you hired Guardian Security to patrol the parking lot and perimeter. Starsky and I will stay inside to keep our eyes open.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat a commendable man.\u201d Kathleen\u2019s eyes sparkled. \u201cIf I were a few years youngers\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOr I was a few years older.\u201d Hutch bent to kiss her soft cheek. <\/p>\n
\u201cOnce the last of the crowd is gone, I\u2019ll make sure Hadley locks up,\u201d Kathleen said. \u201cIf either of you need a nap during the night, make yourselves comfortable in the office.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll stay awake to keep watch,\u201d Hutch promised, surprised to realize his early morning fatigue had disappeared in in zeal to solve this case.<\/p>\n
Starsky stood near the band, joining in on \u201coh, bring us a figgy pudding\u2026\u201d as if he were just another one of the Dickensian cast members. After Father Christmas left, Hutch kept an eye on the rose-bedecked grotto. Nothing untoward happened all night, but the tight knot in the pit of Hutch\u2019s stomach had not been loosened by warm spiced cider or the scrumptious Welsh rarebit. He had a bad feeling that there would be a third murder that night.<\/p>\n
As the tuba hit a blasting high note, Hutch heard a strange wheezing, grinding whine that was weirdly familiar although for the life of him, he couldn\u2019t figure out why.<\/p>\n
There were only a few stragglers walking down the faux cobblestones on the street. No one else seemed hear the strange noise or take the least notice of a sudden wind that whipped up the detritus of dropped programs and torn meat pie tickets. The door to the warehouse was open but the wind was coming from the opposite side of the huge building.<\/p>\n
His heart thudding so hard that the gold watch chain hanging from his gray waistcoat quivered, Hutch grabbed Starsky\u2019s arm, race-walking him toward Santa\u2019s grotto. It was dark in the back corner behind the potted evergreens, and Hutch was sure he saw something that hadn\u2019t been there previously. Instinctively, he put a hand on his gun, nestled in his frock coat pocket, but he didn\u2019t pull it out.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d Starsky asked, craning his head over his shoulder to wave good-bye to Hadley.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you hear\u2026\u201d Hutch began, then stopped so abruptly that Starsky nearly pitched forward. \u201cOh, my God.\u201d There was a huge blue box, oddly like an old British Police phone box sitting squarely on what had formerly been bare space behind Father Christmas\u2019 golden throne. Hutch had stood on that spot looking at the outlines of the victims more than twelve hours earlier.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat the hell is that?\u201d Starsky peered warily at the thing. \u201cLooks like a\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s the blue door,\u201d Hutch barely got the words out. His throat was constricted and hot. This was the blue door to the hospital. Where the doctor who could not save his grandmother had worked. The blue door that he had always known did not actually belong in Shipston-on-Stour.<\/p>\n
Starsky swung around to stare at him. \u201cNo shit, Sherlock, it\u2019s a blue door.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStarsky, I mean, it\u2019s the\u2014\u201c Hutch was struck dumb when the door opened and a beautiful blond girl emerged. She was wearing a British flag t-shirt, tight jeans and a leather jacket. Hutch remembered her, dressed just the same, calling his parents to tell them to come back to Shipston-on-Stour.<\/p>\n
The man behind her was equally a shock. The Doctor looked exactly as he had in 1955\u2014when Hutch was ten. Now Hutch was as tall as the slender young man wearing a brown striped suit and converse sneakers. Nineteen years later, neither the Doctor nor\u2014what was her name? Rose. That was it. Rose\u2014they hadn\u2019t aged one day. <\/p>\n
\u201cBlimey, you see, Rose, I knew there\u2019d be an explanation once we arrived,\u201d the Doctor said expansively, waving both arms to take in faux jolly old London. \u201cKenny, good to see you again!\u201d He bounded up, holding out a welcoming hand as if he, and not Hutch and Starsky, had been there all along.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re\u2014\u201c Hutch glanced at Starsky to make sure he was seeing exactly the same thing. Starsky\u2019s blue eyes were wide, with that wary edge he had when he didn\u2019t quite understand the situation but was prepared for a fight.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think you\u2019ve overshot the year, Doctor,\u201d Rose scolded. \u201cIf he\u2019s the same lad, he\u2019s grown quite tall.\u201d She grinned broadly at Hutch. \u201cHow is your sister, then? Did she get the Queen Elizabeth paper-dolls for Christmas?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Doctor,\u201d Hutch finished, anger welling in his chest to replace the fear and apprehension he\u2019d harbored all evening. \u201cW-where did you come from? How? And why didn\u2019t you save my grandmother.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, well,\u201d the Doctor drawled out the word with a rueful grimace. He patted his pockets as if looking for something. \u201cThere was nothing I could do for the old girl. The Sidencranz are quite thorough.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSidencranz?\u201d Starsky echoed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why we\u2019re here,\u201d Rose said brightly, peering at the surroundings with rapt interest. \u201cWonderful decorations. Yet I don\u2019t see a single one of the buggers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho is this?\u201d Starsky demanded, looking directly at Hutch.<\/p>\n
The Doctor was poking under Father Christmas\u2019 throne, muttering to himself and waving a long silver wand-like thing with a bluish light on the tip. He straightened with an apologetic grin, as if he\u2019d forgotten his manners. \u201cI\u2019m the Doctor, and this is Rose Tyler. We\u2019ve been on the trail of the Sidencranz for millennia but they have proven to be a decidedly crafty race and led us on a merry chase.\u201d He chuckled, nudging Rose. \u201cMerry, did you hear that? Americans say merry Christmas, unlike the British who generally greet one another with happy\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoctor!\u201d Hutch said sternly, irritated with the prattle. He was worse than Starsky. \u201cHow did you hear about these\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSidencranz,\u201d Rose put in helpfully.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve got an alarm for these sorts of things, don\u2019t I?\u201d The Doctor raised his eyebrows, brandishing the silver wand. \u201cOn the sonic screwdriver. It alerts us when the Sidencranz are in a particular time and we rush on over\u2014I\u2019m getting readings that there have been some incidents here.\u201d He shook the sonic screwdriver, squinting at the tip with a frown.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you mean murders, you\u2019re right on the money,\u201d Starsky told him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou travel in time?\u201d Hutch asked, stunned. How was that possible? This was not a story written by Jules Verne.<\/p>\n
\u201cEvery day,\u201d Rose agreed. \u201cQuite difficult to keep the days straight, I tell you. Luckily, me mum regularly calls me to give me the date on Earth. Greenwich Mean Time.\u201d She held up a small device like the tricorders on Star Trek.<\/p>\n
Hutch was through with feeling like he\u2019d gone through some weird portal into the TV screen. Give him a regular crime on the dingy streets of Bay City from now on, he would not complain. He wanted to get out of the borrowed finery and into his familiar soft corduroy slacks and flannel shirt\u2014complete with the shoulder holster for his gun. Which he was seriously considering pulling out in the next minute or two unless he got some substantial answers. Seeing a man he\u2019d first met nineteen years ago was not going to cut it.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is terrific,\u201d Starsky was saying as Rose showed him how to flip open the small device. \u201cYou can actually use that like a telephone?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is a telephone,\u201d Rose replied. \u201cWhat year is this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c1974,\u201d Hutch snapped. \u201cDecember sixth, to be precise. Are these damned Sidencranz you keep yapping about some kind of alien elves?\u201d He couldn\u2019t even believe those words were actually coming out of his mouth.<\/p>\n
\u201cSpot on.\u201d The Doctor agreed. \u201cKenny, I am sorry I couldn\u2019t help your grandmother before.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hutch inhaled, slightly mollified. The Doctor did sound genuinely remorseful. \u201cWhat is it they do?\u201d he asked, his detective side coming to the fore. \u201cWhy these murders at Christmas time? We think we\u2019ve uncovered at least five, spanning generations.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI warned the Sidencranz off in\u2014\u201c He turned to find Rose who had wandered off to admire the corset in the window display. \u201cWhat year was it when we first met Kenny?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c1954?\u201d Rose told him over her shoulder. \u201cYou can plainly see he\u2019s older now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGrandmother died in \u201855,\u201d Hutch said stiffly.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d The Doctor brushed a hand through his untidy brown hair, clearly frustrated. \u201cOnce a Sidencranz has sucked the joyful memories from a being, the victim simply\u2026 ceases to be.\u201d The Doctor shrugged, a sadness coming over his boyish features. He smoothed his red and blue striped tie thoughtfully. \u201cIt\u2019s a very peaceful death, no pain.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something deep inside Hutch that had been knotted tightly for decades loosened. Grandmother Sissel hadn\u2019t suffered because of him.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Sidencranz feed on the memories of older people; the intelligence, happiness, and longevity call out to them, a bit like candy to a baby.\u201d The Doctor looked around again, waving a hand at the false Dickensian buildings. \u201cThey surface on Earth every decade or so, primarily in the Christmas hols, drawn to the yuletide festivities and happiness. Luckily\u2014\u201c <\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think that\u2019s a word that applies here,\u201d Starsky interrupted. <\/p>\n
\u201cUsually, there are only a few incidents and then the Sidencranz teleport to their home planet to\u2014\u201c The Doctor paused, obviously seeing someone behind Starsky and Hutch. \u201cDigest,\u201d he finished in a softer voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cKenneth,\u201d Kathleen called out from down the lane. \u201cWho are\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cHutch!\u201d Starsky warned as Hutch turned to speak to the older woman.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoctor!\u201d Rose squeaked. She\u2019d plunked down in the golden throne and was pointing directly at a creature emerging from the shadows to the left of the grotto.<\/p>\n
Hutch finally did what he\u2019d wanted to do since he was ten: pull a weapon on the damned green elf. \u201cFreeze, asshole,\u201d he yelled, leveling his Magnum.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, my,\u201d Kathleen said faintly, backing away from the creature. The Sidencranz had long wickedly sharp fangs in a wide red mouth. Green hair grew in tangled tufts all over its squat body. \u201cIt\u2019s after me.\u201d <\/p>\n
The thing sprang forward with more force and strength than Hutch would have imagined from an elf not three feet high, going for Kathleen\u2019s jugular. When it grabbed onto her, she half smiled, as if recalling something wonderful from long ago. <\/p>\n
\u201cQuite enough!\u201d The Doctor commanded with authority.<\/p>\n
Repulsed, Hutch slammed the butt of his gun on the Sidencranz\u2019 skull. It screeched, dropping away from Kathleen. She was pale, but alive when Starsky pulled her into a protective hug, his own gun trained on the Sidencranz.<\/p>\n
\u201cI remembered, no, felt, my aunt,\u201d Kathleen whispered.<\/p>\n
The elf hunched over, whimpering, rubbing his head, staring up at the Doctor. \u201cI yam on-lee feedink my chill-dreen,\u201d it said in heavily accented English.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis planet is off your dining rotation!\u201d The Doctor commanded, his voice as tough as steel. He had drawn himself up to his full height, looming over the alien. \u201cHumans value their happiest memories a great deal more than your race do. The Earth is under my protection.\u201d<\/p>\n
Impressed, Hutch took his eyes off the Sidencranz to give the Doctor a second look. Gone was the wide-eyed British schoolboy with an easy grin and endless chatter. The strength of his will could have bested the nastiest drug dealer on a Bay City street.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell \u2018em what for, Doctor,\u201d Rose encouraged under her breath.<\/p>\n
The Sidencranz squoozed upward, its body like malleable play-doh, standing on two spindly green legs, with both short arms reaching out imploringly. <\/p>\n
Starsky made a grossed-out sound, taking a step closer with his pistol leveled on the alien.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo guns,\u201d The Doctor said sternly, waving him back.<\/p>\n
\u201cAi deed no\u2019 meeen to en-ker the wraath of thee Time Lorrr-da.\u201d He bowed his head. \u201cNo more, Ai pro-meess.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnswer me one thing,\u201d Kathleen said suddenly, her hands pressed against the bodice of her brocade gown. \u201cIs my aunt,\u201d she paused, taking a breath, \u201cAgatha, and my friend Garland\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd my Grandmother Sissel,\u201d Hutch added. <\/p>\n
\u201cAre their memories still intact?\u201d Kathleen finished. <\/p>\n
\u201cAi knooo yew.\u201d The Sidencranz gave a weird sort of bow. \u201cMai pee-pul re-memm-bair all we en-gesta. We hold thee meem-rees of the u-nee-verse. Yew are leetle Kath, Ag-atha \u2018now yew wii-sh for pe-permin\u2019 can-dee in yewr stok-ing? An\u2019 now lyk to laff weeth Gar-landa.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d Kathleen said, tears misting her blue eyes. \u201cYes, you do remember them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Hutch?\u201d Starsky asked softly. \u201cKenny, I guess you\u2019d have called him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hutch could not have spoken if he tried. Flashbacks of Sissel washed over him. When she\u2019d tied the red and white scarf around his neck to ward off the damp English cold, and walking Karen down the lane to her friend\u2019s. Setting off hand in hand with Grandmother buy a Beano comic. He wanted to weep, but kept his outward police detective tightly in place. From of the corner of his eye, he could see that the Doctor had relaxed his imperious stance and was leaning against the golden throne with one hand on Rose\u2019s arm.<\/p>\n
\u201cKeen-nee, yew were the las\u2019 thing See-sille saw. She was\u2026\u201d It cocked its head, the fangs covered by the red lips so that it looked much more like the inane plastic elf Hutch had seen in the squadroom that morning. \u201cCon-tent? She luv yew.\u201d <\/p>\n
Then it was gone in the blink of an eye. One second the squat green elf had been there beside the Doctor\u2019s big blue box, and the next it had melted back into the shadows where it had come from.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe won\u2019t be back.\u201d The Doctor tucked the sonic screwdriver into his pocket with an air of finality. \u201cThe Sidencranz are not inherently a bad race, they simply never understand the true value of what they are taking from humans.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you,\u201d Kathleen said gratefully. \u201cI thought we\u2019d locked up; where did you come from?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStarsky?\u201d Hutch shook himself out of his daze, the gift the Sidencranz had given him too new still to examine closely. But the fear and grief he\u2019d harbored for so long was completely gone. He felt renewed. \u201cCould you go get our clothes? I\u2019ll\u2014uh\u2014\u201c He glanced at the Doctor for help, but the young man simply smiled, one eyebrow cocked in amusement. There\u2019d be no help from him on writing up convincing case reports.<\/p>\n
\u201cSure.\u201d Starsky nodded with understanding, although his eyes told Hutch they were having a long conversation later over beers. Or maybe something stronger. \u201cCome on, my lady, I need your help to get out of these fancy duds.\u201d <\/p>\n
Kathleen giggled when Starsky linked arms with her, leading her down the cobblestoned street. \u201cThe Doctor is a\u2014consultant to the police, I guess you could say. Helped us with this unusual problem.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoctor, I don\u2019t understand who you are, or how\u2014\u201c Hutch shook his head, unwilling to delve any deeper into this conundrum. He wasn\u2019t ready, at all. \u201cBut thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKenny.\u201d The Doctor shook Hutch\u2019s hand. \u201cI can see that you\u2019ve matured into an intelligent man. A member of the constabulary, unless I miss my guess?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI wouldn\u2019t mind callin\u2019 \u2018em round to my flat if there was a break-in.\u201d Rose flirtaciously pushed a lock of blond hair behind her ear.<\/p>\n
\u201cDetective Sergeant,\u201d Hutch clarified. \u201cHow did you know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen you were inside the Tardis,\u201d The Doctor patted the blue box affectionately. \u201cYou told me you planned to grow up and help people be strong, because you couldn\u2019t save your grandmother.\u201d<\/p>\n
He had no memory of that, but just walking through that blue door, which had looked so narrow on the outside and so immense on the inside had been too much for his shock-addled brain to perceive. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou did it tonight.\u201d Rose stood on her tippy-toes to give Hutch a kiss on the cheek. \u201cThe Sidencranz\u2014and us\u2014will never forget that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAllons-y, Rose,\u201d The Doctor said briskly. \u201cTime to go. I\u2019m sure that Jackie will have the Christmas decorations all over the lounge by the time we get to London. I\u2019d quite peckish for a few cumber sarnies and a cuppa.\u201d He ushered her into the Tardis and closed the door.<\/p>\n
A groaning, wheezing clank filled the air, a brisk wind swirling all around Hutch, buffeting the skirts of his frock coat out from his legs, and then the space behind Father Christmas\u2019 grotto was utterly empty. <\/p>\n
But filled with memories. Hutch inhaled the lingering scent of Welsh Rarebit, Cornish pasty, hot spiced cider and a whiff of proper British tea, and smiled. For the first time since he was ten, he was looking forward to celebrating Christmas. Luckily, he knew a holiday elf, one David Starsky, who would show him how.<\/p>\n
Fin<\/p>\n