Back upstairs, several officers reminisce about the late detective. Corporal officer, Jock Buchanan and Officer Eddie Garcia talk amongst themselves.

"Uh, what was it he called it?" Buchanan tries to remember.

"Oh! I know. The saloooooondromat."

Both burst into laughter.

Officer Chen glances back at Lt. Hunter. "You can not forget about the crazy rubber alligator he and Neal set up. Howard and his crew blew that thing to pieces! J.D. was in fits of laughter when they came back. He was so proud of that."

Another officer pipes in, "How about that time he and Neal busted the guy who was a comedian."

Buchanan says, "Bad name. The poor guy didn't want to change it and J.D. had no idea how to promote him."

"What was it again?"

"Vic Hitler."

Officer Sanchez remarks. "The Narcoleptic Comic."

Again they all laugh.

Lt. Hunter seizes the opportunity to relish in the remembrance, aside from his own grief. "Ah, yes. LaRue set up a date for him at one of those really bad clubs. I don't know for the life of me how he found those places. But, yeah, it was me, him, Leo and Myra. Vic was genuinely funny. Even the parts where he would fall asleep in an instant. Uh, until I found out that wasn't part of the act." He looks up to the ceiling. "Judas, he could be so unpredictable. J.D. was one of a kind. I remember he and Alf would tell some outrageous stories and nearly wind up on the floor from laughing so hard. Actually, J.D. did. We thought he had to be hospitalized."

Hill and Renko watch the various officers from further back. Renko says, "When I got out of the academy in '75, I was stationed here and the first person I met was J.D. Then I heard some crazy stories about him. One day we went out for beers. Of course this was before he started doin' it heavy. And uh, I asked him about it and he told me every one of those stories was true. Man, I absolutely fell in love with him. We bonded instantly after that. He was the most craziest and fun loving spirit I ever knew. The funniest too! The girls he could pick up? Boy, he could turn on his charm like a light switch. If he was in a bad mood and some pretty girl passed by? Bam! He would be tailin' her before you could blink." Renko shakes his head.

Hill says, "I remember that time at the bachelor party. What was his name? Somehow I'm thinkin' Tommy?"

"Tommy Geraci." Renko says.

"Doesn't he have like five kids now?"

"Six. He just had his sixth one."

"Man!" Hill turns more serious. "But, uh, I remember about that vice cop, Mizell and how he and J.D. got into that really big fight. Mizell pulled out his gun, and all I can think of is how you and Joe immediately shielded J.D. Neal was holdin' him back but you two stood in front of that man's gun. I don't know if it was loaded, but he definitely was. Renko, you were ready to give up your life for him."

"I am a trained police officer. Wouldn't you do the same for your own?"

Hill breathes back quickly, ready to answer when Chief Daniels walks through. Brazenly, he begins to announce, "My deepest condolences to all of you. John LaRue was a fine man and a good cop." He glances over at the officers sitting around wiping their eyes and canceling their smiles. "Uh, but don't you people have other things to do?"

At the same time, a delivery guy brings two vases of flowers which he's ordered to place at the main desk.

Belker looks at the chief with contempt. He mutters to Goldblume who stands nearby, "Can I just shoot him now?" He then notices a folder the chief is holding.

Furillo steps out of his office.

Daniels announces. "I will see to it that John LaRue has a proper police escorted service." He turns around to see the captain watching from afar. "Frank! We need to talk."

Furillo responds with a nod, allowing him into his office. Chief Daniels shuts the door behind him.

"I'll do no such thing. Frank, forget what you heard. John LaRue isn't worth the ground he's laid to rest in."

Furillo stiffens in shock at the chief's callous words. Daniels drops the folder on his desk and opens it. Picking up a print out sheet, he reads it aloud.

"John Daniel LaRue. Born August 6, 1947. Graduated from the Metro Police Academy on November 15th, 1969. Started in East Ferry right after that." He looks up. "Sounds promising. Oh, then was transferred to The Hill three months later."

Furillo's nostrils flair. "Where did you get LaRue's file?"

Daniels leans over. "It pays to be me, Frank. Especially if it's an ongoing investigation."

Furillo grits his teeth. "There is no ongoing investigation on him."

"So you say, Frank. Let's continue on. Shall we? I'll spare you by skipping the boring parts. Three citations for bravery in '71, '74, and '78. A high arrest tally. Shot in September of '78 Hmm. Impressive. Here comes the best part. Arrested for DUI in October of '78. That was shortly after his third citation. Not good for a star cop."

"I bailed him out."

Daniels looks directly at Furillo. "Honorable. Well, I see he didn't learn his lesson. He got two more of those between '79 and '80. Six sexual harassment charges which were settled out of court. A Board of Rights favorite for the panel. Twice. I have to tell you Frank, those don't go well with citations for bravery. '81 which had to do with bribery charges for the acceptance of $25,000."

"Which he was cleared of."

"Second one in '82. Intoxicated while on a stakeout?"

"I handled that too. He served his time in the motor pool."

"Oh, and here's something from the IAD in '84. He shot and killed a man in supposed self-defense late at night in somebody else's house. A couple where the husband was murdered the night before that."

"Caroline Reynolds was arrested for setting up the hit of her husband for his insurance."

"Looks like I missed one, Frank. In '81 a man by the name of Juan Sanchez from the River St. Repossession Co. filed charges against LaRue who reportedly held a gun to him. Here's the beauty of it. LaRue was six payments behind on a brand new 1981 Pontiac Coupe Deluxe at the time. On a cop's salary? Didn't you have a Pinto at the time while you were Lieutenant? Anyway, coincidence? This happened within the same year of those bribery charges. Maybe there was something to it after all?"

Furillo slowly grows outraged.

"It looks to me like your department was harboring a dirty cop."

"You son of a…"

"Now. Now, Frank. I'm only telling you this for your own good. You could be brought to trial, but lucky for you, you've got me in your corner. I know I've bailed you out of some hairy situations in the past. But, since he was an alcoholic, it's quite possible that he had fallen off the wagon, and those four young men you're trying to hang charges from just might be innocent. Perhaps even trying to perform an act of duty. Just doing their job. By all accounts, LaRue was inside a pharmacy five minutes before the accident buying a pack of cigarettes. He could have gotten some cold medicine and guzzled that down before getting behind the wheel. Who knows what an addict will do to get their rocks off, Frank?"

Furillo's eyes widen in fury.

"I'm willing to bet that Calletano's family could press charges."

The captain grits his teeth. In a guttural growl, he says., "Get out of my office."

"Frank, I hope you reconsider with everything I've given you."

"Get out of my office, now."

Daniels makes a hasty exit, annoyed by the captain's refusal to see things his way. Washington and Bates return to the squad room, just in time to see the chief scurry away past the double doors.

Furillo regroups his thoughts and exits his office. "Neal, I need to ask you something. Did J.D. ever mention about an investigation he was pursuing?"

"No. But, uh, come to think of it? He did seem kind of preoccupied with something."

Bates darts her eyes his way for a second, then walks away.

"Nothing about finding someone? Missing person's file? Somebody from his past?"

"Uh-uh. Sorry, Captain."

Lt. Hunter overhears the conversation. He walks towards the captain just as Washington begins to step away. "Uh, perhaps it's not Neal you want to speak with about such matters."

"Who would you suggest, Howard?"

"Uh, I saw something this morning which gave me the slightest indication that…" Hunter can see Furillo's not interested in long stories. "I saw LaRue earlier who looked like he was handing something to Bates. I couldn't be sure but it looked like a key."

Furillo calls out, "Lucy, can I talk with you for a second?"

"Uh, yeah." She hesitates, glancing around.

Lt. Hunter stands next to the captain.

Furillo asks her, "What did he tell you?"

Bates looks at him, then at Hunter, knowing she can't hide. "He said he was investigating something. It was personal and uh, that he didn't want to get anybody else involved. He told me it was something from his past and he had to deal with it." Washington stands nearby overhearing the conversation. Bates says, "I was supposed to see him Thursday." Washington looks at her. She exchanges a glance that tells him everything.

"You were supposed to talk with him Thursday night?" He asks.

Bates eyes the floor as her guilty admission.

Furillo sees the conversation is getting a little awkward and off-track of what was intended. "Neal, do you know a DJ? Perhaps at a radio station?" He pulls out the slip of paper. Bates walks back to her desk.

"J.D. knew a lot of people. Some areas of town I wouldn't want to set foot in. Who knows though. Are you sure a DJ? Can I see that?"

Furillo hands him the paper.

"Boss, that's not a DJ. See those little marks at the end of each letter? Those are initials. It's D and a J. It's somebody's name."

"What about the Rockford Airport?"

"I don't know about Rockford, but J.D. definitely would hang around the central one over here. Never turned away a pretty stewardess. Got in trouble with a few too that I can recall. You might want to start there."

"Who would I ask?"

"Any of them."

Public Defender, Joyce Davenport shows up. Slowly she shuffles by, glancing at the vases of flowers and baskets filling the main desk. Then she spots her husband.

Furillo looks up. "Thanks, Neal. I'll be sure to check. Are you sure you don't want to join me?"

"Naw." Washington shakes his head. "He told you, and I'm still… I just can't."

"Okay. Understood."

Davenport looks at Furillo with saddened eyes. She walks up and gives him a big hug. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I heard it on the radio. Just awful. Is it true? Ray and J.D.?"

"Afraid so. We lost Ray upon impact of the crash. J.D. went into atrial fibrillation. His heart couldn't take it."

"I know he was one of your favorites and you were willing to do anything for him."

"You only come across someone like LaRue once in a lifetime."

"I suppose I shouldn't ask if there's anything for me to prosecute? I'll just go somewhere else. You and the station need this time to yourselves and all of that."

He seizes her shoulders. "That's where you're wrong. There is something I need for you to do. I want you to find what I can do to get Denver Johnson, Bryce Kincaid, Ryan Gelman, and Lou Jolevitch prosecuted to the fullest extent."

"Frank, y…"

"They got Ray and J.D. killed. I don't care if they helped take down bank robbers. They were careless and they were on the wrong side of town. No regard for anybody else on the streets."

"Do you have physical evidence it was them? Because if you don't, there's nothing that can be done. A judge will only see it as an unfortunate accident."

"I want everything dug up on those four men. Their records. What they've done in the past. Even if they got in trouble for jay-walking or spit gum on the street."

"Frank, I can't do…"

"Five cars were struck in their path. There were four units from East Ferry. Those four came from different paths of directions. The two units from this precinct line up with the street Ray and J.D. were on. Is that enough evidence for you?"

She looks at him with some knowledge. "If you can get the testimony from those four units from East Ferry, you could make a case. I know how J.D. could be, but all feelings aside, he didn't deserve this. Neither did Ray Calletano. I hope you get the bastards who did this." She gives him a kiss. "I'll see you at home, later."

"I might be late. So, don't wait up. I have an investigation which I don't know how long it'll take."

Davenport nods her head. "Okay."

She leaves.

Furillo goes back into his office to fetch his coat and scarf. Opening the drawer, he takes LaRue's badge. He then spots Goldblume. "Henry?"

"Yeah, what is it Frank?"

"I need you and Howard to hold down the station while I'm out."

"Where are you going?"

Furillo tosses on his scarf. "To the central airport and hopefully to Rockford. It's about two o'clock now."

"All that way?"

"Depending on what I can accomplish at the airport."

Goldblume raises his brows. "Okay. Uh, good luck. What happens if the media calls?"

"Just tell them we're in mourning." Furillo answers as he rushes out of the station.