Tolerance Book I (Chicago PD/Med FF) by Frances51163

Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Nine: New Ground Rules

The following night Burke, Parker and the Unit, bar Jay and Hank, sat in the kitchen of the rented house playing poker using pretzels as stakes.

"You think Jay will be okay?" Adam asked no one in particular, his worry evident in his tone.
"Hopefully those painkillers I prescribed will knock the pain back," Parker tried to sound optimistic.
"Surprised he agreed to take them," Antonio admitted as he eyed his cards in disgust.
"He didn't really have a choice," the Psychologist shared a knowing glance with Al, they had both been present for the long argument but in the end the threat of being sent back to Chicago did the trick.
"Hank can be very persuasive when he wants to be," Al pointed out with a grin after indicating to Kevin as Dealer that he only needed one card.
"Hell you got a good hand again!" Burke knew the implication of keeping four cards.
"Maybe," Al shrugged smugly as he snatched a snack from the large pile in front of him.
"If I didn't know better I'd say you were cheating," Adam griped as he threw down his cards, "I fold."
"You've been doing that all night," Kevin quipped.
"And I've been getting lousy hands all night," Adam took a sip of beer, "next time I deal."
"Won't change your luck," Antonio stated with a wide grin, "I'm a bad player but you've shown I could be much worse."
"Oh you're funny!" Adam tossed his last remaining chip across the table in disgust.
"They should be back by now," Kevin eyed the wall clock.
"Can't believe Voight agreed to it," Antonio spoke softly, "what good is visiting the Morgue going to do Jay? The guy is dead, he's beyond help."
"He feels partly to blame," Parker stated not for the first time, "and it's obvious he's taking full responsibility for this investigation on his shoulders."
"That's Jay all over," Al nodded in agreement, "and try as we might to convince him otherwise he'll never believe us."
"But you guys are obviously tight," Burke stated with a raised eyebrow, "why wouldn't he listen to ye?"
"In most things he would," Antonio offered thoughtfully, "but Wells is using Jays' self imposed responsibilities against him.  Unfortunately he picked the right man for his target."
"Wouldn't ye all feel the same way?" Burke eyed the men from Chicago doubtfully.
"Yes and no," Al admitted after a brief silence, "yes we'd be upset and want to take Wells down but for Jay it became personal as soon as he received the first note."
"Hell I'd take it personal too," Burke countered.
"I think they would too," Parker intervened gesturing to the Detectives, "but not to the extent that Jay has taken it personally."
"You have a point," Adam conceded reluctantly with a heavy sigh.
"So why is Halstead taking it worse than ye would?" Burke wondered aloud.
"Long story and one that's not ours to share, " Al decided to cut the conversation short, Burke was a good man but he wasn't close enough to Jay to disclose any private information about the young Detective.

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Ten miles away outside the suitably bleak grey building of the Police Morgue a shaken Jay leant against the wall as Voight looked on with concern.

"This was a bad idea."
"I had to see him.  The only reason he's in that drawer is because Wells is after me."
"That's on Wells not you."
"At least it was a clean shot," Jay looked towards the car parking lot speculatively, "he could be watching right now."
"Maybe," the Sergeant agreed nonchalantly as he eyed the rows of vehicles obscured by darkness, "in case he is why don't we head back.  He doesn't need to see you upset."
"Actually he probably does," Jay bent over placing his hands on his knees.
"Are you okay?" Voights' laid back manner dissolved as he moved forward and placed a hand gently on one hunched shoulder.
"Don't worry," Jay assured, "might as well give the audience what they want."

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Two days later a set of photographs was delivered to Jay, proving his instincts right.  As the photographs were passed around his office Murphy eyed the Detective speculatively.

"So you were right.  He was watching. How does it help though?"
"Supposedly no one apart from the people in this room knew where we went the other night," Jay answered quietly, "well apart from the person who told Wells where we were going."
"What are you saying?" Parker got in before a for once speechless Murphy could.
"We weren't followed to the Morgue. We made sure of that," Voight folded his arms, "he was waiting there for us."
"None of us told him!"Murphy was offended.
"You didn't listen," the Sergeant admonished, "Halstead said 'apart' from us someone else knew."
"But ....," Murphy spluttered, it was becoming clear someone in Headquarters was going to be accused of aiding Wells.
"You want to tell him or will I? Voight looked across at Jay.
"All yours Sarge."
"Who the hell is it?" Adam demanded impatiently, not one bit happy about being kept out of the loop.
"Carlisle."
"Who the hell is Carlisle?" Antonio asked crossly.
"Damn!" Murphy sank down into his chair in a gesture of abject misery.
"He's the Night Janitor," Parker spoke into the silence, "why him?"
"He was there the night we left for the Morgue.  He was the only outsider present."
"But ...," Murphy stopped, shaking his head, "it doesn't make any sense. Carlisle is nearly sixty.  He's worked here for over twenty years.  He does a good job.  Why would he get involved with Wells?"
"That's what we need to find out," Vojght pointed out succinctly.
"Why are ye so certain it's him?" Burke queried.
"We did some checking," Jay answered tiredly, "turns out he's been forced to retire. Budget cuts."
"I spoke to him about retiring," Murphy stated, "he was happy about it."
"When was that?" Voight checked.
"I don't know," Murphy shrugged, "about a month ago."
"Two weeks ago his wife got diagnosed with Stage 3 brain cancer.  The medical bills are going to be astronomical."
"Hell!" Murphy slammed his fist down on his desk so hard he nearly toppled his steaming coffee mug over.

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Much to Murphys' dismay once confronted Carlisle had confessed readily. It was clear he regretted his actions and everyone felt sorry for his predicament. Jay had been quite vocal in his insistence that no charges be brought.  Voight had agreed.  The man was already living in a nightmare with his wifes' illness.  He was being punished enough by lifes' cruel fate without them adding to the burden. Murphy had even told the contrite man that he could work out the rest of his Contract but the suggestion was rebuffed.  Carlisle conceded he was afraid Wells might approach him again. It would be safer to leave now.  After pulling in some favours, and getting Jays' approval, Murphy had ensured that Carlisle received his full pension benefits.

The evening of the confrontation with Carlisle Parker looked around the packed Conference Room.  Murphy had called a meeting to bring everyone up to speed. News of Carlisles' actions was met with shock and disbelief by the New Yorkers.  After everything had been laid out Murphy got down to the real reason he had gathered everyone together.

"Carlisle is a good man and Wells exploited his circumstances. I want to be clear if Wells approaches anyone in this room for information I expect to be informed straight away."
"We wouldn't ....," Johnson muttered crossly from where he sat beside his FBI colleague.
"Look I trust ye," Murphy stated firmly, "but if something comes up in your private lives that may be used by Wells I want to know about it.  Carlisle is a good man.  He was caught in an awful situation and Wells exploited it."
"Why are you telling us this," Johnson looked around the room, "there's always a chance someone might be approached, it comes with the territory?"
"Because if anyone is approached I want to be informed so the person can be taken off the investigation.  That's the only way to negate the threat.  Once a person is off the case his or her value to Wells will be worthless."
"Surely he's not going to chance contacting one of us," Johnson persisted.
"We're covering all the angles," this time it was Voight who responded snd his tone made it clear his patience with the discussion was wearing thin, "this isn't up for debate."

Wisely no one decided to speak.

tbc