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

Chapter Ninety-Five

The Detective suffered through the examination with obvious frustration. The Doctor finally put away his stethoscope in the medical bag he had placed under the table on arrival. Folding his arms he leaned against the wall, noting they had a few minutes before the Sergeant came back to collect his prisoner.

"So how are you really feeling?"
"Fine."
"Like I told you before Will spoke of you often. He told me you'd say you were 'fine' no matter how much you hurt," O'Sullivan observed ruefully, "he was right about you."
"What do you mean?"
"He told me once you were tough and never gave into injuries. He said you never complained when you were sick or hurt," the Doctor related honestly.
"He must have been drunk when he said all that," Jay tried to brush off the words and then sought a change of subject, "how come you're here anyway?"
"Good timing on my part. I happened to phone for an update for Will just as your Sergeant found out you were arrested. He said it seemed like a good opportunity to check you out and there might not be many more. Adam is very worried about you."
"Mother hens the lot of them," Jay grumbled in exasperation.
"Guess I should be glad you don't think I cluck," O'Sullivan grinned.
"I was being tactful," Jay said too innocently before leaving the mirth behind, "you tell Will I'm fine and .....,"
"You want me to lie to him?"
"You're not lying. I am fine. If Voight didn't think I was he would pull me out no matter what the cost."
"About that. What makes you think he's not waiting for my assessment?"
"You'd have examined me earlier," Jay stated confidently and glanced at the wall clock just as the door opened revealing the burly Sergeant and his jangling set of keys.
"Guess there's a reason you're a Detective," the Doctor offered a smile wrily and his hand in farewell, "try not to do anything too strenuous. If you can. Like your Sergeant I'd rather not deal with your brother when you're injured."
"I'm surrounded by cowards," the young man lamented with mock chagrin as he offered his wrists up for the silver bracelets again causing the Sergeant and Doctor to chuckle.

Moretti, Voight and the Unit members had been briefed by O'Sullivan on his findings, down at the Task Force offices. He had informed them it was clear the Undercover Detective wasn't getting enough rest but the ribs were healing well. Adams' concern over his friends' bruised eyes was noted. The Doctor had explained that the young man was clearly pushing himself and was no doubt still suffering pain from the broken bones. His comment that Jay had not mentioned other problems did not allay any worries and even as he gave voice to the words the Doctor understood why. The younger man would not complain. The Doctor said that in hindsight perhaps he should have taken some blood samples. He had left with instructions to be called any time, night or day, if Jay needed medical help of any kind. Hank had solemnly nodded.

****************************************

Four days later the Unit and the L.A. Task Force members were called into the Conference Room where Voight took the helm, with a nod of approval from Moretti, after the men settled around the long table.

"We have reason to believe someone is leaking information on our investigation to Petrocelli. Mouse you and Hillman are to go through everyones' desks while we're in here, including Petes' desk and mine."
"Right now?" Mouse raised a hand as he asked his question, listening to the murmering going on around the room.
"Yes now," the Sergeant raised his voice and addressed the local men for his team had remained silent, "if anyone has a problem please collect your belongings and leave."
"This is a standard precaution," Moretti explained as his men looked to him for guidance as the two IT Specialists left the room, "I trust each and every one of you."
"So who do you think is selling information?" Phillips asked the question on all of their minds.
"Shall I?" Hank asked his friend with a rare show of diplomacy, knowing the discussion ahead would not be an easy one.
"Please."
"We have reason to suspect Tom Franklin has been collecting information for Petrocelli during his frequent visits to this office .......,"
"What the hell?!" a middle aged Detective exclaimed angrily, seated beside Phillips, his disbelief mirrored in the other shocked faces around the room.
"Jones I know this isn't easy to hear and believe me it's not easy to say but we have strong evidence. Otherwise this conversation would not be taking place," Hank spoke as he watched the consternation disappear and the seriousness of the situation sink in.

Moretti and himself had done some further checking, via their mutual friends, colleagues and even some white collar CIs. The result of which was they learnt Franklin actually owned shares in a profitable nightclub in L.A. owned by Petrocelli. Of course the shares were not owned under his own name and it took some digging to uncover the real identity of the shareholder. What Moretti had thought was simply a hobby and a way of supplementing his income had in fact turned out to be a very intricate ploy to earn tens of thousands rather than hundreds of dollars. Whereas Moretti knew earning a supplemental income was not allowed by Headquarters many Officers did so simply to cover mortgage payments and other basic necessities. Although the powers that be frowned upon such activities they did not put a stop to them. What Franklin was doing however went way beyond trying to keep up with bills. He had obviously crossed a line a long time ago and decided to pursue wealth through any means necessary. Moretti had cursed his own naivete but Hank had reminded him pragmatically that Franklins' actions were his own and he would pay for them. Phillips looked at his Superior, noting the man appeared to to have aged, and posed a question which had immediately come to the fore.

"When is Halstead coming out?"
"He's not. At the moment we have no reason to believe Franklin knows anything about Jay," Hank offered calmly as silence descended, the initial surprise wearing off, "Pete only told ye about our undercover op when we got here and Franklin hasn't been by the offices since our arrival as he's been out of town. We checked surveillance footage anyway, just in case he came back unexpectedly."
"That might not be a good thing," Jones spoke thoughtfully, "what if he's stopped sniffing around because he has what information he was looking for?"
"Well we don't know what he was looking for but the main thing is Halsteads' cover is safe. For now anyway," Moretti replied this time as he eyed his team members one at a time before continuing quietly, "he's been in Miami the past week and a half. Supposedly for his wedding anniversary."
"Damn," a middle aged rotund, bearded man commemorated sincerely, "this is just one big mess waiting to blow up. Still though I find it hard to believe ....,"
"We've looked into this Matthews," Hank cut the man off, they didn't have time for a debate on the subject not with his young Detectives' life hanging in the balance, "the people who know about the op are all in this room, besides Mouse and Hillman. No one talks about the case to anyone, that means friends, partners or whoever. I know the investigation is not to be discussed anyway but everyone needs to understand that even the smallest bit of information isn't to be spoken about. From now on clerical staff are not allowed up here. We do our own filing and copying ....,"
"Oh joy ....," Jones rolled his eyes but went silent as a stone cold glare was directed at him.
"I don't care if it means we have to do extra hours, paid or otherwise. There will be no shortcuts. It's taken years to get someone this close to Petrocelli and he has to be stopped."
"As of today sixty-five deaths have been attributed to Bright Glow between here, Chicago and New York," Moretti put in, "but we all know the figure is in fact higher as some will be put down to other factors."
"Petrocelli is obviously feeling safe since he's set up business in New York," Jones observed, "sure would be interesting to know why he's chosen to
set up there now, after all these years."

*********************************************

Across town Jay unknowingly was listening to Jimmy and Paul discuss the same question. As usual neither man could agree on one answer and both turned to Jay to consolidate their position as they sat in a booth at the back of a rundown bar.

"It's because the time is right now to make good money there."
"No. You're wrong," Paul shook his head vigorously.
"You say that but you haven't offered an alternative," Jimmy said in exasperation.
"So why do you think he made the move now?" Jay asked with forced disinterest, as he sipped his beer and looked at the burly man across from him.
"Vincent," Paul said succinctly after a brief hesitation before rising and heading over to the bar.
"Oh damn," Jimmy looked stricken.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Vincent," Jimmy repeated the deceased Petrocellis' name and also got to his feet but instead of the bar he headed to the washroom, looking as if he was about to get sick.

Jay looked from Jimmys' disappearing back to Pauls' defeated stance at the counter and sighed. It seemed he wasn't going to be able to avoid dealing with the topic as he had hoped. He knew he would have to get some answers. The time for patience was slowly passing. He needed to make some headway in the case. He just hoped he could do so without becoming entangled in the fathers' grief and that of his loyal henchmen.

tbc