Neither of them said anything else. Ethan left the sergeant's office without wasting time. Having a son like that was enough to cause a permanent headache. His father was a sergeant, and even so, the kid had managed to get himself tangled up in a gang dispute.
Justin didn't seem stupid; even so, he had managed to do something truly idiotic.
Voight's intention was already obvious: to cover up his son's involvement in the matter. If Internal Affairs found out, they would have him by the balls forever. That was why he had to be extremely cautious with the case.
A few minutes later, Voight also stepped out of his office and rolled out the board.
—Everyone.
Voight let the word hang in the air as he pinned a photograph to the board. The sharp snap of the magnet echoed through the room, followed by the firm stroke of the marker writing a name.
Frank Fitori.
—This is our new case. I think you've all heard about the body that was found this morning, right? —he continued, without taking his eyes off the board—. Well… this is Frank Fitori. Old-school mobster, operating on the South Side for years. This morning, his body was discovered by the lake.
He wasn't a nobody. Fitori had been moving through the underworld for far too long to end up like that by accident.
—I know this man.
Antonio stood up.
Voight barely turned his head.
—He has connections to a lot of important figures.
—That's right.
He struck the board with a thick pen, a rough, almost instinctive gesture.
—We have orders from upstairs to find the killer and figure out what game his enemies are trying to play.
Ethan spoke up.
—Let me handle the crime scene. I'll see if patrol might've missed any details.
—
—Good. Erin, go with Ethan and see what else you can find. —Voight nodded quickly, then shifted his gaze to Erin.
He didn't want to solve this case—not really—but he had to make it look like he was moving the pieces. Not until he could determine just how deep his son was in this.
—As for the rest of you…
He scanned the room, one by one.
—Go talk to your informants. See if there's any movement on the streets.
No matter how deeply Justin was involved, with blood on his hands, this wouldn't be a small problem.
Voight couldn't bring himself to let his son go back to prison; that would mean putting his life in danger. The briefing ended quickly, and the others dispersed.
These kinds of cases were, clearly, very flexible; they could investigate them however they wanted.
—What were you two talking about in the office?
Erin hurried down the stairs and asked without looking back.
Only she dared ask questions like that; no one else would.
When she didn't hear an answer, Erin stopped. She wasn't willing to let it go.
—Nothing important. Voight said he could get me courtside tickets to a Bulls game and asked if I was interested.
—You're lying.
Erin looked at him with clear displeasure, lips tight, jaw set, as if the question had touched an exposed nerve.
—I can't tell you, Lind. When Hank thinks you need to know, he'll tell you himself.
Ethan raised both hands in surrender and took a step back.
—Forget it. Don't say another word.
Erin immediately shook her head—a quick, irritated motion—and resumed going down the stairs without looking back, leaving Ethan alone with the uncomfortable feeling that he had just glimpsed something he wasn't supposed to see.
From a distance, a patrol car was visible, and in front of it, a cordoned-off area. Noticing their arrival, the patrol officers stepped out immediately.
Ethan briefly turned on the hidden police light, then switched it off.
The two patrol officers relaxed, taking their hands off their weapons.
When Erin stopped the car, Ethan opened the door and approached quickly.
—District 21, Intelligence Unit. Where's the body?
The taped-off area was empty; only a pool of blood remained.
—You're too late.
The lead patrol officer shrugged, sniffing the air.
—Homicide, forensics, patrol… everyone's been through here. The body's already been removed.
—Thanks. We'll just take a quick look at the scene. You can head out.
Ethan nodded.
In the middle of winter, guarding the lakeshore wasn't an easy task.
He lifted the caution tape and stepped through.
There was nothing out of the ordinary. Several teams had already passed through, and shoe prints were everywhere.
The bloodstains had congealed, and the surrounding area was completely trampled.
Ethan already knew who the killer was; he'd only come to contaminate the scene, and that part of the job had already been done by others.
The two patrol officers returned to their car, leaving them free to work.
Not far away, Erin was standing behind a cluster of reeds, her head tilted up.
Ethan walked over and followed her gaze. There, mounted above them, was an outdoor camera.
A blue protective casing covered it.
—This one's ours, a police surveillance camera —Erin scratched her nose—. Care to bet me dinner that it recorded the body dump and the killer?
—I don't think we're that lucky. Let's tell Jin to check the footage in the database.
Ethan knew those outdoor police cameras were usually there just for show. Even if they worked, odds were they were damaged.
Erin checked the direction. Even from dozens of meters away, the angle was good.
—The Purple Pig. Tonight. You in?
It was a very popular restaurant, recommended by the Michelin Guide in Chicago.
—No problem.
Ethan extended his hand.
—Just go check the camera code… so Jin can pull the footage.
Without saying anything else, Ethan walked off, trudging awkwardly through the mud. Now he needed to know exactly how involved Justin was before deciding how to deal with the problem.
The only good news was that there were no shoe prints leading directly to the spot.
It was possible that whoever arrived earlier had also noticed the camera, but they probably thought the same thing Ethan did—that it was broken.
After getting the code, he didn't send it to Jin like he normally would.
If it actually worked, he needed to see it with his own eyes first before deciding the next step.
He wiped the mud off and headed back to the station quickly.
Without going upstairs, the two of them went straight to the tech room in the garage.
Erin rubbed her hands together, muttering nonstop about all the dishes she planned to try.
Ethan shook his head, wondering whether she'd still have that appetite if she actually saw Justin killing Fitori later.
He handed the code to Jin. With it, Jin quickly located the corresponding surveillance data and downloaded the video onto his computer.
—Wait…
As Jin's mouse cursor slid toward the video file, Ethan cleared his throat and gave him a couple of pats on the shoulder.
—Let me handle the rest.
—All right!
Jin didn't suspect a thing and stood up to step aside. Because of the bet, Erin had been watching closely from the side.
Ethan had no choice but to play the video in front of her.
Unexpectedly, the police camera was working perfectly.
Jin pulled up the monitoring data from the past twenty-four hours, and with a flick of the mouse, Ethan jumped straight to the previous night.
Then came a frenzy of fast-forwarding.
It wasn't until close to midnight that Ethan's finger stopped abruptly.
A car appeared on the screen, its rear facing the surveillance camera, headlights cutting through the darkness as it moved forward.
—That's the car.
Erin murmured excitedly, her eyes shining.
—Don't get excited too soon.
Ethan stared at the screen as the vehicle came to a stop, almost hidden by a nearby dead tree.
Vaguely, a figure could be seen getting out of the passenger seat. Dressed in black, their features were unclear.
Even so, Ethan paused the video and snapped a photo with his phone.
He could send that to Voight for confirmation; a father didn't need to see a face to recognize his own son.
The video continued.
The person opened the trunk and, in the next instant, dragged a body out, walked to the side, and with visible effort threw it into the reeds.
Then they ran back to the car, and the vehicle sped away from the scene.
Watching it, both of them let out a breath; the tension in their faces finally eased.
—I won!
Erin clenched her fist excitedly.
—What did you win? —Ethan glanced at her as they walked—. Did you recognize something? The model of the car, the license plate? Did you see any of that clearly?
Erin ground her teeth, annoyed, and turned her head slightly toward him.
—You're cheating —she muttered through clenched teeth—
—Jin!
Erin's face darkened, and she immediately sought outside help.
—Come here. Now.
—I need to see the license plate, or at least the car model.
As she spoke, she struck the keyboard in frustration.
—Careful, it's new equipment. Don't get worked up.
Jin stepped over immediately and patted her hand.
Once it was clear that nothing could be made out clearly, Ethan didn't mind letting Jin try to enhance the image.
In fact, even after increasing the brightness, the image remained blurry.
The distance was too great, and the camera quality wasn't very good.
—Damn it!
Erin looked discouraged.
—Wait a second.
Jin pointed to the upper-right corner of the screen.
—What's that?
As the image was brightened, the blurry point of light in the distance sharpened slightly, and faint words appeared.
—McKinnly Construction!
Erin's eyes sharpened instantly; she recognized the text right away and replayed the video.
The direction the car drove off in passed directly in front of a construction site.
—If that construction site has private security cameras… they might've caught the car as it left. From that angle, it points straight at the driver's side.
Jin pointed at the screen confidently.
—Perfect!
Erin turned her head, excited.
Unlike her, Ethan stayed silent.
Catalano must have completely lost his mind after getting out of prison. He hadn't even had the common sense to avoid cameras while dumping the body.
Either way, they needed the evidence first.
They hurried back to the location, and just as they were about to reach the construction site, Voight's reply came through.
The person who got out of the passenger seat was not Justin. Based on height and build, Voight was convinced that the one who dumped the body was Catalano.
As for the driver, the answer was obvious.
Flashing their badges, they quickly found the site manager.
According to him, all the security data was handled by a subcontracted company in India.
After another phone call, the company agreed to transfer the surveillance records.
—Lindsay.
As soon as they got back to the station, Platt stopped Erin.
—New photos. It won't take long.
—All right!
Erin patted down her clothes and hurried over.
Ethan temporarily set Voight aside, leaning against the reception counter as he watched Erin let Platt do her thing.
—Hey.
A soft fragrance accompanied the greeting.
He turned his head and saw Burgess.
Her makeup was carefully done; her ponytail was loose, brown hair falling softly over her shoulders.
In the dark blue uniform, she looked beautiful.
—You look amazing. Ready for the photo.
Ethan gave her a thumbs-up.
—Don't joke.
Burgess's eyes curved with laughter.
—Your turn, Burgess. Don't make me wait!
After finishing with Erin, Platt looked at Burgess with clear displeasure.
—Where did you run off to?
—I don't know what you're talking about, Sergeant. I've been at the station the whole time.
Burgess explained quickly and walked over to the photo spot.
—Come on —Erin stepped closer to Ethan.
—Wait a second.
Ethan felt a genuine curiosity about how Platt was going to mess with Burgess this time.
—Hold still!
Platt wasn't blind; she immediately noticed Burgess's makeup and placed a hand over the camera, her expression impassive.
Burgess was already ready and smiled right away.
Red lips, white teeth—she was very photogenic.
—One, two, three.
Platt counted normally, watching the camera closely.
But her finger didn't move, as if frozen.
After a few seconds, Burgess began to fidget.
—Sergeant… is it done?
Flash!
The burst of light went off suddenly.
—Yes, it's done.
Platt studied the image on the screen and nodded in satisfaction.
—No… that can't be.
Burgess visibly tensed. She ran her tongue over her lips, drew in her shoulders, and awkwardly laced her fingers together, as if she didn't know what to do with her hands.
—Did I blink? —she asked suddenly—. Did I move?
Platt tilted her head slightly, studying the screen, then smiled, pleased.
—No. To me, it's perfect.
Burgess's expression immediately fell apart. She scrunched her nose, clenched her jaw, and let out a small, anxious sigh.
—Please… —her voice trembled—. Take another one. I'm begging you.
Platt raised an eyebrow, amused, and clicked her tongue.
—Shoo. You can go patrol… don't waste my valuable time, Burgess. I don't have time to retake photos.
—Ha!
Laughter broke the tension. Not just Ethan—Erin burst out laughing too. Burgess's face fell for a second, an involuntary grimace she tried to hide by lowering her gaze. Just then, Platt's expression hardened, as if she were completely serious.
—Sergeant! —Ethan said, stepping up to the counter.
Platt immediately turned toward him, wearing a wide, calculated smile.
—I thought you two had already left. I know you've got a big case on your hands.
—Yeah, well… —Ethan shrugged casually—. We just wanted to see how you mess with Burgess. It's my favorite part of the day.
He flashed her a charming smile before adding:
—But look… I owe her a favor. Think you could, just this once, take another shot? You know, for me.
Platt pretended to think for a second, then nodded.
—All right. Just for you.
She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
—You're lucky you're my favorite.
Platt turned back to the camera and motioned to Burgess, who was waiting with obvious anticipation. She looked at Ethan gratefully, made a small, awkward hand gesture—an attempted thumbs-up—and then straightened, taking a deep breath.
This time, Platt didn't joke around. The white flash filled the space, and in an instant, Burgess's smile was captured… even brighter than before.