The One Chicago shows are always at their most intense whenever it’s one of their own who needs his or her team to be, as the P.D. title for the week dubs, firing on all cylinders. This time, the stakes are just as high as when Matt Casey’s “girl” (for lack of a better descriptor for their on-off-on-off thing) Hallie was taken down in the early days of Chicago Fire … which means someone’s gonna bite it in a bad way and yes, Voight’s involved. Well, sorta.
Who am I kidding? That last moment of digression was really just brought to you courtesy of my excitement over Fire‘s return next week. This fall is about to be even hotter, y’all. In the meantime, here’s a run-through of all the insanely good drama that went down on Chicago P.D. and the significantly less entertaining new installment of Chicago Med this week.
Chicago P.D. Season 4, Episode 3: “All Cylinders Firing”
After last week’s episode of Chicago P.D. showed Trudy Platt bearing her teeth at Commander Fogle, I thought for sure we were bound to see his threat against her come to fruition in an all-out department fracas, but alas, it’s another baddie that makes her suffer this week. The inevitable Fogle vs. Trudy bonanza will have to wait for another day. Even so, the Trudester doesn’t go down without a fight this time either because, well, that’s just not her style.
This week, Trudy pays a visit to her dad, Robert Platt, who’s got a young, new girlfriend named Natalie whom Trudy suspects of being a classic gold digger. Why else would a woman of her age shack up with a 72-year-old man who lives such a lavish little lifestyle? He’s not too concerned about her theory, but when he turns up dead after Trudy’s beaten bloody while entering her car, all eyes turn to Natalie as a possible suspect.
Sure, Natalie and her ex-but-not-really boyfriend Leonard admittedly took Robert “for a ride” by swindling some of his dwindling resources, but they both insist they had nothing to do with his untimely demise. Once Burgess inadvisably tells Trudy the make and model of the vehicle that sped away from the scene of her attack — thank goodness for neighbors who don’t take kindly to ruckus in the streets stepping in for the accidental assist — she goes missing from her hospital bed and makes a stop at her office to retrieve her back-up gun and a shovel from one of her late dad’s developments. Her issued arm was the only thing stolen from her on the scene, so the whole Intelligence team is out trying to put two and two together as to the five W’s (who, what, when, where, why) of the assailant, since it obviously wasn’t some street robbery-gone-south… which is probably the only reason no one seemed to notice her sneaking into P.D. in the first place.
Though she never shares the 411 with the detectives on her case, Trudy knows exactly who it is, and what’s better (or worse, depending on how you look at it) is that she knows exactly where he is, too. She rifles through her Rolodex to find her old card for Wade McGregor, a man who invested in one of Robert’s companies and nosed around a little too much for Trudy’s liking. Trudy may have only suffered a head wound and bleeding eye socket, but she’s still seen better days and required surgery from hunky Rhodes to prevent any permanent damage.
Despite her injuries, though, she rolls up to his place and, as luck would have it, her old gun is resting far out of his reach, so he’s an easy grab. She makes him put on his own cuffs like a boss and then ties him to a chair for a little homegrown interrogation. It doesn’t take long for her to summon up an admission from him, and she’s inches away from joining the department’s league of retaliatory murderers when Sergeant Voight catches up to her plan and stops the slaughter before it can begin. She rightly points out that he of all people should understand why she needs to do this (meaning, put this creep six feet under herself), but he reminds her that she’s not him and never should be. The perp will get justice on the official level, and she just needs to make peace with that. And, of course, it’s strictly between them that she almost did what she almost did — we’ll just have to pretend that the secret vault thing will work and that McGregor won’t himself spill those beans, I guess.
In the end, Trudy returns safely to her hospital bed at Med to finish the recovery process, and the man who put her there in the first place is now behind bars. Her husband, Mouch, tells her he flipped his lid when he heard she hit the trail to find the guy herself — as far as he knows, it was Intelligence who ultimately detained McGregor — and that he’s not so very keen on her doing street police work, no matter how good she was at it back in the day. It’s kind of rich, coming from a guy who runs into burning buildings every day for a living, but hey, they exchange a couple of feely “I love you”s and all is well between them again.
The moral of the story in all this is that while Trudy puts on a grunty front of behind-the-desk collectiveness, she’s got a wicked bone buried deep, and she flexed it a lot this week. Assuming she and Fogle are going to come to blows over Tay’s reassignment, he will most definitely be underestimating her, whatever he says or does.
Also? The Burgess and Nolan thing didn’t get much attention this week, but one thing that prove true (again) is that they’re super duper jivey on the job. Their hustle with Kevin Atwater at the liquor and appliance stores was full-tilt.
Episode grade: A
NEXT: A bunch of filler — literally …