Chicago PD: Hank Voight's Forbidden Love

A Loss of Innocence

The two men sat in the SUV at the District garage.
Voight had brought Atwater up to speed on his conversation with Lt. Draper of the Homicide Unit.

"And that's the long and short of it, Kevin. He now thinks that I'm the one who killed Murphy, and so he's taking his investigation in that direction . . . my direction."

"He's got nothing, Sergeant, nothing!," Atwater said.
"There were no pods or security cameras in that alley. I wore dark glasses and a hoodie so that if I did get caught on a camera I may have missed, there wouldn't be enough for facial recognition."

"I know, Kevin, I know. And there were no fibers or fingerprints or most importantly no witnesses. The guy is just talking outta his ass.  But you never know."

"Yeah, Sergeant, he just happens to be closer to the truth than he realizes. But understand this:  If he does come up with something, I sure as hell ain't letting you take the fall. Game over. I'll confess and face the consequences."

Voight winced at Kevin's words because they resonated with what he did not do when Olinsky was arrested for the Bingham murder which he, Voight, had committed.

"Listen, Kevin, it's not going to get to that point. No one is going down for this, not you, not me. No one.  Let Draper shake his ass, but you and I both know he's not going to find anything."

"You know, Sergeant, what gets me is they were so sure that Mark was the killer even though there was no evidence to back it up. Their case against him was going up in smoke before he died, and now that he's dead, they've switched their focus to you on the same evidence, which is nothin'"

"Exactly," Voight said with emphasis. "Draper is flailing because he knows he's got nothin'. All he's got is a hunch, a theory, a gut instinct. He's got nothing else, so I'm not going to lose sleep worrying about it. So please, let's put it out of our minds until there's something to worry about."

"Okay." Kevin was all too happy to drop the subject, especially since he was confident he had not left a single clue. 

What he wanted to know now was how Elena was doing.

"How's she doing?"

"I don't know, Kevin," said Voight shaking his head in exasperation. "She actually went to school today.  I couldn't believe it.  She just got out of the hospital this morning, her best friend took his life yesterday, but she goes to school because she doesn't want to miss a damn philosophy class.  She hasn't said one word about Mark or shed a single tear.  I'm worried about her."

"With all due respect, Sergeant, you were worried about her the last time because she was falling apart, and now you're worried about her because she isn't."

Voight rubbed his thumb across his forehead in frustration.  Kevin was right.  He worried about Elena all the time.  He had never worried about another human being the way he worried about her, and it was torturing him. 

"Kevin, between you and me Elena drives me crazy.  I never worried about Justin and Erin the way I worry about her because I knew they could take care of themselves, and they had street smarts.  Erin was tough and resilient.  Elena on the other hand is fragile and doesn't have any streets smarts. She thinks she does, but she's incredibly naive."

"Sergeant, Elena may lack street smarts, and yeah, she's naive as hell, but she's not nearly as fragile as you think she is.  She's strong as hell from where I stand. Think about it. She survived her uncle's murder.  She survived the murders of her best friends.  I'd say she's a lot more tough and resilient than you give her credit for.  She's gonna  survive Mark's suicide as well."