How long can a person stare at the same ceiling before going insane? Pete didn't have an answer to the question he was asking himself, but he was sure that he was halfway there. Trying to keep everything straight in his head was like trying to hold onto a handful of worms; the tighter you hold them, the more they slip away. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands. The weird blackness he saw was an improvement over the ceiling. Finally, he gave up and got out of bed. It was 3:30 in the morning.
He was tempted to make a pot of coffee, but decided it was too much trouble. Besides, diet cola was loaded with caffeine and already cold. He had to open three kitchen drawers before he found the bottle opener. Reed never did put it back in the right drawer. He chugged half the bottle before settling down at the table. Maybe it would help for him to write it all down; make a list.
"Now I'm thinking like Jim? Mr. Organization." He was talking out loud to an empty apartment. Pete didn't have any pets; not even a gold fish. "Oh yeah, I need to call him." Technically, he wasn't alone. A tiny greenish -yellow blinking light was flying around his living room. He thought about catching the Lightning Bug and letting it outside but he liked the company.
Pete went over to the phone on the wall in the kitchen and dialed the station's number. He had hoped to speak to Jim, but he had to leave a message for him to call back no matter what the time. Pete thought it would be better if Jim spoke to the Captain and Mac concerning Fraser's opinion of him. It didn't make sense to leave a message for Moore or MacDonald since they wouldn't get in until Pete was already there. Pete finished his list, spoke to Jim and let the Lightning Bug out. Once again, he stared at that stupid ceiling, wishing that he hadn't let the little bug go.
By seven am Pete was parked in the lot behind the station. He had picked up breakfast at a nearby Mom and Pop store but hadn't started eating until he arrived. It was very hard to eat and drive a stick shift at the same time and that is why Jim found him sitting on the short wall outside the station. They spoke for a few minutes about what Pete was planning on doing in his meeting with Mac and Moore. Jim finished off Pete's corn muffin while they walked into the station.
The station was crowded and noisy. For the first time in days, no one stopped him to ask about things they knew he couldn't talk about. Jim and Walters kept Pete informed of the comments being made around the station. Most of them didn't bother him; he couldn't stop the gossiping if he tried. At least not in the usual sense of the word, but all talking stopped when he entered the locker room. He changed in relative silence. Normally, he wouldn't need to wear his uniform for a meeting but Captain Moore had made it clear that he wanted both Pete and Mac to wear their uniforms. He wasn't sure why.
Pete made a brief stop in the Watch Commander's office. He needed to make sure that he was on the roster for tonight's shift. He also picked up his messages. Sgt Murphy entered the office to speak to him. If Pete had to describe the looks he was getting from Murphy, he would say "confused".
"Eh…Pete? I took a strange phone message for you. A crying woman called to say "You shouldn't have done that, but Thank You". Do you want to explain that to me?"
"Not really Murph. It's personal. It has nothing to do with work." What the heck, Pete tried once more to invoke St. Michael's help. He even took back the "fickle" comment. Pete really needed Murphy to not press the issue. Was a half-truth, told to protect someone's privacy, considered a lie?
"I've got you scheduled for the PM watch today. Will you still be able to work it?" It seemed like St. Michael was on his side again. That, in itself, was weird. Unlike his Mother, Pete long ago gave up daily prayer and going to mass, but now, he was falling back on part of his religious teachings. Is prayer really born of desperation?
Pete assured the sergeant that he would be working later. He grabbed a few messages out of his box and left. The meeting with Mac and Captain Moore was in ten minutes. Somewhere between the watch commander's office and the Captain's office, Pete made up his mind. He would give them the all facts about both Fraser and Wells and let the other two take it from there.
Pete could smell the coffee before he entered Moore's office. Apparently the Captain had finally decided to replace his broken coffee machine. Pete thought that he replaced it for convenience and not because his presence in the breakroom made younger officers nervous. He took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, next to MacDonald; accepting a large mug of coffee from Moore.
"As you know, I am meeting with Officer Wells in two hours. Unless either of you wish to express an opinion I will be firing him. Do I hear any objection?" Pete glanced at Mac to see if he wanted to say anything. When Mac stayed silent, Pete turned his attention to Captain Moore.
"Captain, if I may, I think there are a few things that you should know before you speak with Wells." Pete could feel both of them tense as he spoke up. Neither one of them objected so he continued. The Captain gave his permission for Jim to come into the meeting to speak about Fraser. Pete, who gave up his seat to Jim, was leaning against the back wall of the office. Jim paused after relating Fraser's fear of being fired.
"What have you decided to do about him?" Moore's question was obviously directed at Pete.
"I intended on reassigning him to Bill Walters. The people at the Academy agree with me that he does have the potential to be a good cop. I was planning on asking you to extend his probation." Moore was no dummy. He caught the past tense.
"Have you changed your mind?" In answer, Pete asked Jim to tell them what else the rookie had said. The tension in the room increased in response to Fraser's assertion that all the rookies knew Pete was out to get them. All three men were waiting for the Captain's response. Finally, Moore used the intercom to ask Gladys, his secretary, to call Officer Fraser and tell him to report to Moore as soon as possible.
"Rookies are supposed to be afraid of Pete. Sorry my friend, but you know that better than I do. However, the impression that Pete is just waiting for them to make a mistake so that he could chop their heads off needs to be stopped. We need to find out where this came from and how widespread it is." He thanked Jim for reporting the problem then told him he could go. Jim agreed to be around a phone if they needed to speak to him again. He nodded to Pete and got silent thanks from his partner.
"I need to know if Fraser got that idea from Wells. You both said you never thought Wells would assault Pete. Has his behavior changed recently? Do either of you have anything to say about him?" Pete had spoken to Mac about the changes he had been noticing about Ed, but MacDonald chose to defer to Pete.
"I was going to talk to you about this during the training meeting. I thought it could wait."
"Apparently, you were wrong." Moore wasn't in the mood to pull his punches.
"I agreed with Pete. We wanted to wait until we had more information." Pete and Mac locked eyes for a brief second in agreement; they would back each other.
"You and I have already discussed the problems with him as a training officer. I don't run into Ed that much during a shift so the problem wasn't blatantly obvious. Three months or so ago, a few of the officers who choose to talk with Ed started to come to me to express some concerns. " Pete paused, trying to decide how to proceed.
"Their concerns were that he seemed to be having a personal problem. No one had, at this point, suggested that it was affecting his work. Ed does not confide in me. That left me with one option; to keep an eye on him to see if it began to have an effect on his work." A sip of his coffee and continued on.
"Normally, Jim and I make a point to respond, as back-up, on any calls that might end up needing more than two units. It was at the scene of a 211 that I noticed something. Ed was distracted; he wasn't responding to questions. When I asked him about it, he said that he was tired."
"Did you press him on that? Ask the other responding officers?" Moore had been taking notes as Pete spoke. He paused, waiting for the answer to his question.
"Not at that point. It was the first time I had seen that behavior from him. I didn't ask anyone else because I didn't want to call attention to it. That was around two months ago. I had confided in Jim. He would have noticed himself that we were responding to more of Wells' calls." Pete pushed against the wall he was leaning on. A little slow pacing helped him think.
"The change was gradual. He didn't go from 'normal Ed' to 'careless Ed' overnight. Not that I think there is a normal person named Ed Wells, but he changed. He started making rookie mistakes. A few of the older officers mentioned that even on his own calls, Ed was leaving them to handle it. His mood was sullen. He's normally loud, annoying and bragging, but he was quiet; keeping to himself. I noticed a number of calls that his unit was 'unable to respond' to. When I asked him about it, I couldn't get a straight answer from him." He stopped speaking; wondering if he had the right to reveal Ed's personal problems. Moore shifted his attention to MacDonald.
"When did you become aware of this?" If Pete didn't know better, he might have thought Moore was asking, indirectly, if Pete had failed to tell Mac everything.
"Pete first told me about it right after he heard from the older officers. I was content to have Pete look into things. He kept me informed on what was happening. Two weeks ago, he told me about the more serious problems. That's when his unit started refusing calls." Moore asked Pete to sit in the chair next to MacDonald.
"Is there some reason that you two decided not to tell me then?" It was a very pointed question. Moore stared at them; waiting for an answer. Pete started to answer, but Mac took the ball.
"I asked Pete to find out why. There had to be a reason. It was a problem, but it hadn't reached the emergency stage until the other night." Whap, the ball was back in Pete's court.
"Until yesterday, I didn't have all the facts." He paused before taking the plunge. "Did either one of you know that Ed has been living in his car?"
A stunned silence was followed with a barrage of questions. Foremost among them were "why" and "When"? Nope, thought Pete. They didn't know that tidbit.
"I found out about it two days ago. Reed showed me after Brady showed him. It started twelve days ago. That's when Betty, his wife, threw him out." As hard as this 'chat' had been, it was getting harder. Pete hated airing Ed's problems; even to his superiors. Weren't some things private?
"And you are sure of this, how?" This time, Mac couldn't back Pete up. He hadn't told MacDonald any of what he found out yesterday. Pete nodded to the first question; he had yet to answer the other part of that. Pete needed time. He got up to fill his coffee mug.
"I asked you a question, Officer Malloy." Ouch. Captain Moore hadn't called Pete that in over ten years. He had no objection to reporting on Ed's work life, but it wasn't only his personal life involved.
"Yes, I'm sure. Betty Wells told me what day she threw him out." He knew the Captain well enough to know that wasn't the last question. Betty had asked him to keep their marital details private. He hadn't promised to keep it quiet, but he knew how she felt about it.
"Did she happen to tell you why she did that?" Pete hadn't returned to his seat after refilling his mug with coffee. Without paying attention to where he walked, Pete ended up by the window. He was looking out over the parking lot; it wasn't much of a view. "Yes, she did."
"Look at me when I'm talking to you. I expect more of an answer than that. Now, why did she throw her husband out?"
"Does it matter? Isn't it enough to know that being thrown out had a negative effect on Ed?" Their eyes locked and the Captain could read in Pete's eyes how much this was bothering him. He decided to approach it from a different angle.
"What made you call his wife? Did you expect her to tell you or were you fishing?" Moore leaned back in his chair, waiting.
"I realized that the woman making the calls Jim mentioned was Betty. So I called her back." Pete half sat on the bookcase under the window. Moore's silence served to drive home the point that he was willing to wait Pete out. "Betty doesn't want Ed to know that she called me for help. Can we respect her wishes?"
"I'll try to. That's the best I can do. Did she want you to help her husband?" So far, getting this last bit of information from Pete was like pulling teeth.
"She didn't know anything about the problems at work. Their fight was over money." They waited patiently while he took another sip of coffee. "Ed's brother Pat is very sick. Pat has no insurance and he can't afford his medicine. Betty threw Ed out when she found a foreclosure notice in the mail. Ed was using the mortgage money to pay for Pat's medications. Okay?" It didn't make much sense, but he felt guilty for telling them. He went back to staring out the window; ignoring the whispers coming from behind him. The Captain had to call his name a few times before Pete heard it.
"Do you want me to take these things into account when I make my final decision? Do the reasons excuse the action?" He wasn't asking to hear himself talking; he wanted to hear Pete's opinion.
"No Skipper, it doesn't. You taught me that."
