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Chicago morning had barely begun.
The sky was still covered by a gray blanket of clouds, and the cold air drifted in from the lake, carrying moisture between the buildings and making the shoreline seem even more deserted. Ethan drove in silence, his eyes fixed on the road ahead while the distant glow of dawn reflected faintly across the water.
This time, Ethan pulled smoothly to the curb. In front of him sat Hank's Cadillac SUV, already parked near the entrance to the lakeside path.
He shut off the engine, grabbed his coffee from the cup holder, and stepped out of the Ford Interceptor. Steam rose from the plastic lid the moment it met the freezing air.
Voight stepped out of the Cadillac a few seconds later, adjusting his jacket with that familiar, curt motion. His face carried the same hard expression as always, but at that hour of the morning he seemed even more grim.
He looked at Ethan for a second.
Ethan was still wearing the same clothes from the night before. It didn't take much to understand why. Voight quickly figured out he hadn't been home yet, but he said nothing. He wasn't Ethan's babysitter.
He simply shut the Cadillac door, shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, and looked toward the crime scene tape blocking the path.
—Over here.
Hank lifted the tape and motioned for him to come closer.
Shaking off the bad feeling creeping into his stomach, Ethan followed.
The lakeshore stretched out before them in a vast expanse of white, covered by an uneven layer of snow and frost. Five or six people worked around the scene, their silhouettes outlined against the gray water. Beyond the yellow, withered reeds, a body lay on the ground.
Standing near the corpse was a white man wearing a gray overcoat.
Ethan slowed his pace. He knew exactly who it was, and he didn't like the guy one bit. Once they were face-to-face, Hank made the introductions.
—Edwin Stillwell, Internal Affairs. This is Detective Morgan...
Hank introduced him casually and, with his hands still in his pockets, looked at Edwin.
—Well? What do you need me for, Edwin?
Edwin glanced at Ethan before turning back to Hank.
—Do you recognize the body on the ground?
Ethan shifted his gaze toward the corpse.
A white male in his twenties. Short, thin, with a pointed chin that made him look almost rat-like.
His neck was covered in reddish-purple bruises. One of the rope marks around his throat was especially noticeable.
Hank studied the dead man's face and spoke in a rough voice.
—It's Lonnie Rodiger.
—I thought I told you to keep an eye on Halstead. This is a damn disaster.
Hank had received Edwin's call while eating breakfast. Edwin had said it was urgent, and Hank initially assumed it was some new case for Intelligence.
He never imagined it would involve Lonnie's body.
Ethan took a sip of coffee. He looked at the corpse among the dead reeds, then at the technicians moving carefully around the scene.
—I hope Detective Halstead can provide a solid alibi. Otherwise, he's in trouble... serious trouble.
After delivering the warning, Edwin nodded at Ethan and turned to leave.
—What do we do now?
Watching the man in the gray coat walk away, Ethan looked at Hank.
—There's nothing we can do.
Hank replied irritably.
—Internal Affairs won't let us interfere with the investigation. Everything depends on Halstead now. We just have to hope he isn't involved in this, or things are going to go to hell very quickly.
He gave the body one last glance.
—Let's get back to the station.
He headed toward the vehicles, snow crunching beneath his boots.
—Don't contact Halstead yet. You don't want Stillwell looking at you. Jay brought this on himself.
Ethan nodded and followed.
—What's the deal with this guy, Stillwell?
—Remember Gradishar?
Ethan searched his memory.
—I remember him.
A faint smile appeared at the corner of Hank's mouth.
—Edwin is his replacement.
No one else was nearby, so Hank lowered his voice.
—Stillwell isn't someone you mess around with —Hank said quietly.— He's dangerous. He's the one who pressured me into bringing Sumner into Intelligence.
He paused and looked at Ethan seriously.
—I still don't know whether she's working for him or not, but I want you to understand something: keep an eye on her.
—Shit... —Ethan cursed under his breath.
—What is it?
Hank looked at him with confusion.
—Nothing. I'll see you later.
The two split up and left the scene.
Ethan pressed the accelerator and headed home.
After one hell of a night and a morning that wasn't improving, all he wanted was a hot shower and a change of clothes before returning to the station.
It didn't take long.
He barely had time to shower and put on clean clothes before returning to District 21. The moment he walked through the doors, Sergeant Platt looked up.
She didn't say anything.
She simply tilted her chin toward him in a silent question.
As desk sergeant, Platt received alerts, preliminary reports, and rumors before almost anyone else. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say she was the best-informed person in all of District 21.
If something happened on the street, Platt knew.
If someone screwed up, Platt knew.
And if the name of an Intelligence detective started circulating in connection with a corpse, Platt definitely knew.
She peered over her glasses with that dry expression that always seemed halfway between judgment and warning.
Ethan shook his head and continued upstairs.
On the second floor, Erin and Olinsky were already in the office.
Alvin looked like a man who hadn't slept all night.
Concern for his daughter weighed heavily on him, visible in the way he sat silently chewing a Twizzler almost out of habit.
Erin, meanwhile, seemed distant.
She was physically present, sitting at her desk, but her mind was clearly somewhere else. She stared at the screen without really seeing it, her fingers motionless above the keyboard.
Seeing her like that, Ethan felt a brief stab of guilt.
It vanished almost immediately.
He had chosen to live this life without attachments. To take what he wanted when he wanted it, without carrying useless regrets. He didn't want to hurt anyone, that much was true, but he also wasn't going to spend his life apologizing for decisions made in moments of desire.
The past was the past.
And what Erin didn't know couldn't hurt her.
—What's wrong with you two?
—I can understand Olinsky, but why do you look like that?
He sat directly on Erin's desk and snatched the bag of chips from her hand.
—Hey! Those are mine.
Erin reached out to grab them back, annoyed.
—Eating that this early isn't good for you. You're going to get fat.
Ethan kept shifting his body, blocking her arm.
—Alvin.
—What is it?
Olinsky looked up at the two people making a scene.
—Lonnie Rodiger was murdered last night. They found him by the lake this morning. Looks like he was strangled.
Erin's hand froze in midair.
Olinsky's mouth dropped open, and his candy fell onto the floor.
—Shit...
He stopped himself halfway through the sentence and clamped his mouth shut.
There was no need to say it aloud.
Everyone knew Lonnie Rodiger's name.
And thanks to Halstead, everyone knew exactly what he had been suspected of.
—Damn it! —Erin slammed her fist on the desk as if she had just remembered something.— Yesterday, when we went to arrest Pierce, Halstead and I stopped somewhere on the way, and he got into an argument with a guy.
Olinsky clenched his jaw. He grabbed another Twizzler out of habit but never bit into it. Instead, he tossed it into the trash and rubbed his forehead.
—You should've stopped him —he finally said.— I hope he didn't do something stupid.
—No —Erin said firmly, shaking her head.— Jay wouldn't do something like that. He was angry, sure. But he didn't want to kill Lonnie. He just wanted to stop that bastard from hurting another child.
Her voice was steady, but tension lingered in her eyes.
—He wanted to see him in handcuffs, Alvin. He wanted to see him in front of a judge. That's very different from murder.
In the current situation, speculation was useless.
Looking at Lonnie's build, he would have looked like a chicken standing next to Halstead. If Halstead had really wanted to hurt him, Lonnie wouldn't have stood a chance.
—Alright.
Ethan placed the chips back on the desk, trying to ease the tension before they spiraled further.
—Maybe we're overthinking this.
He looked at Erin, then Olinsky.
—A guy like Lonnie probably had a long list of people who wanted him dead.
—Mmm... you're right.
Erin nodded quickly, clinging to any explanation that didn't involve Jay.
Then her expression darkened when she picked up the chip bag and realized how much lighter it felt.
—I only ate a few, asshole.
Ethan never got the chance to defend himself.
At that exact moment, a bald Black man wearing a white shirt and a gold badge on his chest approached the bullpen.
Ethan stood immediately.
—Sir.
—Sir.
—Chief.
Erin and Olinsky rose as well.
The man who had just entered Intelligence was Commander Perry, head of District 21.
His presence there was unusual.
Perry rarely stepped into Intelligence unless something important was happening.
And this morning, he was carrying a folder.
He greeted everyone with a brief nod and walked straight into Hank's office.
The moment they saw the folder—and remembered what they had just learned about Lonnie—they already knew what was coming.
—No...
Erin dropped back into her chair.
—Please don't let it be that.
Halstead was her partner.
If something had really happened, she wouldn't know what to do.
At that exact moment, Halstead came up to the second floor looking unusually cheerful.
—Did you guys see the Eagles game last night?
He took off his jacket and tossed it onto the table.
—That Hail Mary was absolutely insane.
—Jay.
Erin stood up immediately, wanting to ask him something.
—What's wrong with you guys?
Halstead noticed all three of them staring at him with concern.
—Don't tell me something happened to someone again.
—Halstead.
As he spoke, the detective office door opened and Hank appeared in the doorway, motioning for him to come inside.
Chief Perry was seated behind the desk, his arms crossed as he stared out toward the bullpen.
Halstead pressed his lips together, shifted his feet uneasily, and stepped into the office.
—Chief.
After closing the door, Halstead nodded politely toward Perry.
—Mm.
Perry stood and pointed toward the chair beside the desk.
—Please, have a seat, Detective.
Halstead placed his hands on his hips and swallowed.
—No. I'll stay standing.
—Where were you last night after work? —Perry asked directly, staring him in the eyes.
—Why? What's going on, Chief?
—Answer the question, Detective.
—At home.
Halstead tightened his hands against his hips and glanced at Hank standing beside him.
That reaction immediately unsettled him.
—So... —Perry continued.— Are you saying that after you went home last night, you never left again?
—That's right.
He looked back at Perry.
—I was at home watching the Eagles game. Then I watched movies until midnight and went to sleep.
Hank clenched his jaw, his face dark.
Chief Perry nodded slowly and picked up several photographs from the desk.
—This photo was taken last night by a traffic camera —Perry said, placing the first image on the desk.— The vehicle is registered to Lonnie Rodiger. Based on the camera angle, there's no doubt he was driving it.
Halstead lowered his eyes toward the photograph.
He said nothing.
Perry slid the first image aside and placed another one on top.
The silence inside the office immediately grew heavier.
The moment Halstead saw the second photo, something changed in his expression.
The confidence he had walked in with disappeared instantly.
—That's you —Perry said.
He tapped the photograph with his finger, directly over Halstead's vehicle.
—Two cars behind Lonnie.
Hank remained silent.
His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on Jay, as though disappointment weighed more heavily than surprise.
Perry looked up.
—Now, Detective. Explain to me what you were doing there.
Halstead swallowed.
The lie collapsed before he could even try to maintain it.
—Alright —he finally said, rubbing a hand across his face.— I went out last night. I went to buy beer.
Perry didn't blink.
—And you just happened to end up behind Lonnie Rodiger?
—Yes —Halstead replied defensively.— I saw him on the street and ended up driving behind him for a while.
—For a while?
—I wasn't following him to do anything to him —Jay said, raising his voice slightly.— It was Lonnie Rodiger. He was a pedophile. If I saw him on the street, of course I was going to pay attention to him.
Hank lowered his eyes briefly, as though that was exactly what he had hoped not to hear.
Halstead took a deep breath, trying to regain control.
—It's not a big deal.
Perry set the photo down with a calmness that felt more threatening than any shout.
—Then let me rephrase.
He leaned forward slightly.
—What if that pedophile you mentioned turned up murdered this morning?
Chief Perry placed the photograph on the desk and asked seriously:
—Do you have anything to say, Detective?
—What?
Halstead stared at him in shock.
—Are you serious?
—Someone strangled him with a rope —Hank finally said, his voice low and rough.— So now I strongly suggest you keep your mouth shut, contact your union representative, and come up with a better alibi.
Perry shot Hank an obvious look of disapproval.
That sounded less like procedure and more like a personal warning.
Still, he said nothing and turned his attention back to Halstead.
—And it better be something more convincing than watching football alone at home.
Halstead clenched his jaw, still trying to process what he had just heard.
—Until this matter is investigated, you are officially suspended —Hank said with a blank expression.— Turn in your weapon and your badge.
For a moment, Jay didn't move.
Shock hardened his features.
He looked at Hank.
Then at Perry.
As if expecting one of them to take back the order.
Neither did.
Hank's hand remained extended, waiting.
With stiff movements, Halstead removed his service pistol from the holster and placed it on the desk.
Then he pulled out his badge and set it beside the weapon.
The sound of metal striking wood echoed far louder than it should have.
—Jay Halstead —Chief Perry said formally.— Keep your phone turned on. Internal Affairs will be contacting you shortly. You know the rules.
Jay looked down at the two photographs on the desk.
Lonnie's car.
His own, two vehicles behind.
There wasn't a single thing he could say that wouldn't make the situation worse.
Without another word, he yanked open the door and stormed out of the office.
He grabbed his jacket from his desk and headed for the stairs.
—Jay.
Erin reacted immediately and followed him.
—Jay.
Halstead didn't stop.
He went down the stairs with his jacket in one hand and anger tightening his jaw.
—Can you believe this? —he snapped, barely turning toward her.— All I did was try to stop that bastard!
He ran a hand across his face, still unable to process how quickly everything had turned against him.
—And now I'm a murder suspect?
—You need to calm down —Erin said, catching up to him.
—Calm down? —Jay laughed bitterly.— I just got suspended, Erin.
She didn't answer.
Instead, she pulled a business card from her pocket and shoved it into his hand.
—Take this.
Halstead looked at it, confused.
—What's this?
—The best police union attorney I know —Erin said firmly.— Call him immediately. And until you've spoken with him, don't say another word. To anyone.
Jay tightened his grip on the card.
For a second, he looked ready to argue.
But Erin's expression left no room for discussion.
He put on his jacket with a rough motion and continued downstairs without another word.
When he reached the garage, he didn't leave immediately.
Instead, he headed straight for the tech room, pushing the door open harder than necessary.
—Hey, Jin. I need your help finding something.
—Impossible.
Jin didn't even look away from his monitor.
Halstead stopped.
—You're not even going to ask what I need?
—No need —Jin replied calmly while typing.— As a murder suspect, anything you do to access information related to the case could be considered interference. And if I help you, I'm going down with you.
—Come on, man.
Halstead slammed his hand on the desk.
—I didn't do it. I just need to know what happened.
Jin finally looked up.
There was sadness in his expression, but also resolve.
—I'm sorry, Jay. You need to leave.
—Jin...
—Voight already warned me —he interrupted quietly.— And I don't want to lose my job.
Halstead stared at him for several seconds, breathing heavily.
He wanted to say more.
But nothing came to mind.
Finally, he clenched his teeth, turned around, and walked out of the tech room.
A few minutes later, he exited the station.
The moment he stepped outside, he nearly collided with Antonio, who was walking in with a grim expression.
Erin had already filled him in.
Antonio stopped directly in front of him and pointed at him with a mixture of anger and disappointment.
—I warned you a long time ago to be careful.
—You believe it too? —Halstead asked angrily.— I just got suspended.
—And you're surprised? Because I'm not surprised at all.
—Antonio...
—I warned you —Antonio said, stepping closer.— Hank warned you. Everyone warned you to stay away from that guy. And what did you do?
Halstead opened his mouth to answer.
Nothing came out.
The barrage of questions left him speechless.
—I didn't do it —he finally said through clenched teeth.— Don't you believe me either?
Then he looked Antonio in the eye.
—I know you wouldn't do something like this.
Halstead froze.
—Then...
—But that doesn't change anything —Antonio cut him off.— Don't forget that I'm the one who got you into Intelligence. And that's exactly why I'm telling you this. Whether you did it or not, you put yourself in this position.
Antonio pointed toward the street.
—I have work to do. You need to call a lawyer right now. And until then, keep your mouth shut.
Without waiting for a response, Antonio walked past him and entered the station.
Halstead watched him disappear through the doors.
The anger surged into his chest.
He spun around and kicked a pile of snow beside the curb.
A cloud of white exploded into the air, carrying a fist-sized rock that rolled several yards across the pavement.
—Shit.
He cursed under his breath and headed toward the parking lot, stomping across the frozen ground.