Since Chicago Fire, Chicago P.D., and Chicago Med don’t exist in individual vacuums, we’re going to be delving into each week’s new slate with a combined ‘One Chicago’ recap series that breaks down what happened during the new episodes, why it matters, and how this series so nicely ripples and connects as we go. Hopping from House 51 to the station and onto Med (and, eventually, the courtroom for Chicago Justice) is gonna be a blast…just not the kind we need the truck squad to come out for.
Chicago P.D. Season 4, Episode 1: “The Silos”
Hank Voight talks a lot about consequences in those doom-and-gloomy interrogation scenarios — you gotta love his “bad cop” routine opposite Antonio Dawson’s classic “help me help you” bit. But the Sarge has yet to *really* face any repercussions for his own shady ways, and it looks like the streak of him getting away with it is continuing right on into season 4.
Much of it was left to the imagination, of course, but in last season’s finale, Hank got to have his way with the mouthy man who murdered his son, Justin, and it all came to an end with Hank suggestively patting the dirt with a shovel. Dude was DEAD, in other words, and we didn’t need a The Walking Dead-style gorefest to know it was probably not a pretty demise.
Before she left him to it that night, Erin Lindsay also saw enough to deduce went down — and, more importantly, where he probably buried the body. That makes her complicit by omission, but she’s still so beholden to Hank that she won’t be bullied from her loyalty post, no matter how many guilt lectures about morality and good-deeding get thrown at her by Commander Crowley or anyone else. Even when it looks like she might’ve given up her dear old adoptive dad, she pulls the classic “NOT” psych-out and brings Crowley to the site…after she’s already dug up and ditched the bodily evidence herself.
It’s bad fishing on the Commander’s part to think she could actually get a hook in Erin, and she should’ve cast a wider net and run a little recon herself. Crowley already knew the coordinates of where Erin and Hank last rendezvoused, and as we’ve seen through all of One Chicago, the city’s first responders have a buffet of fancy metal detection, heat sensing, plasmablastometer (okay, so that last one’s made up, but roll with it) options at their investigatory disposal. You can’t tell me none of those fancy machines would detect a human body hiding beneath the dirt at the site. Sloppy, sloppy.
So, here we are then. Hank’s a stone-cold killer. Erin’s got herself in deep by being an accessory after the fact, tampering with evidence, and a whole laundry list of other punishable offenses. “You saved my life. I would’ve been dead at 15 if you hadn’t taken me in. There’s no doubt in my mind about it. And I’ve always looked forward to saving yours,” she tells Hank in an effort to make her felony act seem sweet.
Justin’s family’s about to take leave of the Windy City and all its tragic reminders of their loss, including (oh, who are we kidding, especially) Hank, so now it’s just Voight and Lindsay, a pair of cops turned partners in (literal) crime. What could possibly go wrong?!
This is all weird timing, honestly, because Halstead’s totally ready to take the Linstead ship full-steam ahead by having her move in with him — he even breaks out a swoony little line about not wanting her to be one of the many things coming and going from his life, d’aww. He might not know the extent of her involvement, but his offer to shack up comes after she’s very clearly told him she’s hiding something for Hank, so the ship probably isn’t going down over these murky waters right away. He’s only seen the tip of the iceberg, though, so don’t go throwing away your life jacket just yet.
In other news, Burgess’s new partner, Julie Tay, is legit (although she may have a target on her head from a pervy former commander, who tried and failed to get frisky with her and then professionally punished her into silence). Together, the ladies manage to save a woman and then track down the rapist-slash-kidnapper-slash-all-around-scumbag who attacked her on day one, so the new partnership seems to be working out just fine so far. BUT Burgess managed to piss off Trudy with one thoughtlessly ageist insult — everyone make a mental note to take “whoa, girl’s still got it” off the list of acceptable colloquialisms — so Burgess’ little victory of a fist-pumpable partnership is the least of her worries now.
NEXT: Dr. Rhodes is in over his head