Tolerance Book II

Chapter Thirteen: A Hard Earned Calm

As Voight approached the section of the large office allocated to the Unit and Burke, with a grim Antonio at his side, he found himself in an unusual position. For once he was reluctant to deal with something in his usual head on manner. It was a rare occurrence for him to find himself unsure of how to proceed with his youngest Detective. The visits to the three families had been depressing, as anticipated, but each visit had also revealed the same twist. For his part Antonio was struggling not to vent his anger at what they had learnt. He was just glad that Jay had not in fact accompanied the Sergeant that morning. He wasn't sure how exactly Voight wanted to deal with the matter so remained silent when the older man stopped in front of Jays' desk causing him to look up in surprise.

Jay had so far contacted thirty-five Oncologists and had not made any progress. He had just crossed off another name when movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He had not noticed the new arrivals. Raising his head he looked up at the serious expressions on the pair.

"How did it go Sarge?"
"I need to have a word Halstead," the Sergeant motioned to the door leading to the hallway and moved off before giving his subordinate any chance to question him.
"What's going on?" Adam asked worriedly as he watched Jay reluctantly the older man outside.
"Wells didn't just tell the victims he was Jay ...," Antonio sank down on his chair in defeat, "he sent the families texts from their daughters' phones stating that they were being held by 'Jay' and they were afraid of him."
"How sick do you have to be to even think of doing something like that?" Burke asked rhetorically, he had only returned to the investigation team that morning after attending a two day seminar in Boston on bomb disposal techniques.
"'Sick' doesn't even cover it," Kevin complained in disgust.
"Did ye learn anything else," Al wanted to know.
"No," Antonio looked around, "how about ye?"
"Not yet," Mouse replied as he eyed the door his friend had gone through speculatively, maybe he should check on him.
"He'll be back soon enough," Al pointed out perceptively before holding up a list, "for now let's get through some more of these."

The men tried to concentrate on the task in hand but their worry for Jay remained at the forefront of their thoughts.

Stairwell

Voight had intended to talk to Jay in the Break Room but he saw a group enter so opted instead for the solitude of the stairwell. As was his way he had informed the younger man of what they had learnt with a matter of fact tone, hoping it would lessen the distress the news caused. He hadn't expected anger at the revelation for that was not Jays' way. His words were met instead with silence as Jay leant back against the wall on the left of the closed steel door keeping his gaze ahead.

"I put them straight Kid. They all understand you had nothing to do with the killings."
"They died thinking I killed them."
"Wells is really upping things. He's obviously after losing some of his control," Voight pointed out wishing he had something concrete to offer up to the younger man.
"This might have been his agenda all along," Jay countered, unable to hide the weariness in his voice.
"We'll catch him Kid. We're on the right track."
"You really think he's ill?"
"When you initially suggested it I had some doubts but the more I thought about it I came to realise it makes sense. A lot of his actions fit."
"But not the latest killings."
"They were up close and personal person," Voight conceded the glaring difference between the bombings, Sniper shootings and the latest murders.
"He's angry," Jay thought back to the gory office scene, "but despite his rage he was deliberate. He slit their throats in one go ...,"
"The ME confirmed that," the older man nodded, he wasn't sure where his companion was going.
"So the killings were ........... neat ..... for want of a better word."
"That crime scene couldn't be called neat," the older man frowned.
"No," Jay readily agreed, recalling the gruesome red spattered scene they had walked into, "but what I meant was he killed them each with one ..... cut."
"So?"
"That doesn't shout loss of control that shouts ....... clinical."
"Like when he cut you," Voight stated.
"Exactly. So he wasn't angry as we assumed."
"Which tells us?"
"Not sure," Jay shrugged non commitedly, he had a vague notion about what was going on with Wells but he decided to keep his own counsel until such time as he had a chance to think it through fully.
"Well when you are sure Kid you let me know," the Sergeant sensed his companion was holding back but opted not to push the issue, "let's head back before they send out a search party."
"Sure Sarge."
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