[sighs]
♪♪
♪ I got a feelin' that I can't let go ♪
♪ Got a feelin' that I can't let go ♪
♪ I got a feelin' that I can't let go ♪
♪ Can't let go ♪
♪♪
♪ I feel ♪
♪♪[bagpipes playing "Amazing Grace"]
Man: Uniformed personnel. Atten-huh!
Present arms!
♪♪
Man: Honor guard. Order! Arms!
Uniformed personnel. Order! Arms!
Honor guard. Forward! Arms!
Half right face!
Ready. Aim. Fire!
[gunfire]
Aim. Fire!
[gunfire]
Aim. Fire!
[gunfire]
Honor guard. Atten-huh!
Half left face!
In memory of your son,
and on behalf of a grateful city,
and the Los Angeles Police Department.
Man: Honor guard. Present arms!
Uniformed personnel. Present arms!
♪♪[horn playing "Taps"]
Thank you for coming, lieutenant.
Listen, just give me a call if there's anything I can do.
I'll see you later.
Arceneaux.
Sir, I'm very sorry about your loss.
And yours.
Sir?
He was your partner and your friend.
He was. Thank you.
Tell me what happened that night.
What the fuck happened that night?
Sir, I was told not to talk to you
or anyone else about it.
- You're IOD. - Yes, sir.
Injured on duty.
The shock of it, sir.
I guess we're all IOD.
Tell you somethin', though.
Sir.
You can't hide behind this bullshit forever.
Sooner or later you are going to tell me what happened to my son.
- [electronic blips] - [lock clicks]
[camera shutter clicking]
[metal clanking]
[siren wailing]
GPS data for Tony Allen's car.
You look at the night he was killed?
GPS shows location coordinates, right?
Also creates a marker every time the engine's turned on and off.
Okay.
That night, he stopped for two minutes up on Mulholland,
a mile and a half from where the car and body were found,
three from his house.
Time syncs with his last phone call.
- The one with Layla in Vegas. - Correct.
We have the murder scene.
That's what I'm thinking.
On his way home talkin' to his girlfriend.
He sees something. Hey, baby, gotta go.
Hangs up, pulls over, gets out. Pop, pop.
Two in the back of the head.
I'm thinkin' we should go up there
first thing tomorrow, take a look.
How far back did that go?
Beginning of the lease. Three years.
Mind if I take a look?
Yeah, knock yourself out.
Mrs. Allen.
Top of the mornin' to you.
Mr. Nash.
My lawyer called.
Should be on the probate docket any day.
- When, exactly? - Soon.
Just be patient.
Patience is my middle name.
Hmm.
I miss you.
It's too risky.
We gotta act like they're watching everything we do.
Are they?
If they're not, they will be.
[sighs]
Patience is not my middle name.
Don't I know that.
[chuckles]
[clears throat] Have a wonderful day, ma'am.
And you, officer.
[keys jangling]
[chuckling]
[sighs]
Irv. I thought I heard someone come in.
Greg.
Connie in the kitchen?
No, she's upstairs resting.
- How is she? - Better.
Better?
We thought she was having a panic attack earlier.
Couldn't catch her breath, hands were trembling,
said her heart was pounding.
Why didn't anyone call me?
She asked me not to.
Is she okay now?
She took something, calmed her down.
What brings you here?
To my own house?
You know what I mean.
I just came by to grab some things.
Fresh clothes.
Let me get you what you need.
Come on.
I'll be in and out, I won't disturb her.
She doesn't want to see you, Irv.
She was very clear about that.
[sighs]
- Hey. - Hey, Dad.
You gonna come with?
Uh, kimchi's not my thing.
Just try it, Mom.
Look, I did. Once. I'll never do it again.
I blew my nose the entire dinner.
It is not my idea of an elegant dining experience.
Your loss.
Give us a minute, Mads.
Whatever. I have to go to the bathroom, anyway.
Meet you in the break room.
Follow me.
So, what's goin' on?
Don't get your hopes up. Could just be a hunch.
Undercover FBI agent in the Marks organization
disappeared two years ago, Christmas Eve.
They assume Marks had him killed, buried in the desert,
but they've no idea where.
Okay.
We also found traces of old blood in the trunk of Allen's car.
- The agent's? - Maybe. They're working the DNA.
But today, we got the GPS data from that car
going back almost three years.
You think the GPS indicates where the body's buried?
Mm, that's my hunch.
Tony Allen was just a money launderer.
I don't see him as the hitter.
Maybe just the clean up guy?
Marks' cousin, someone he could trust to get rid of a dead body.
Mr. Wolf.
Who?
Harvey Keitel.
"Pulp Fiction." The clean up guy.
You know I don't go to the movies.
[scoffs] At least you know it is a movie.
That's something.
Of course I know it's a movie.
Anyway, tell Griffin about the blood in the car.
Give him the GPS data, let the Feds figure it out.
Even if it doesn't pan out, you've made the effort.
Could be helpful.
Hope so.
You hope so what?
That the traffic isn't too bad. You ready?
It's kind of early to eat, isn't it?
Oh, it's rush hour. By the time we get there, it won't be.
You'll be starving, screaming.
Have fun, you two.
- Bye, Mom. - See you.
[traffic noise]
[cell phone rings]
Chief.
Irving: I need to talk to you.
Omni Hotel, suite 1530.
I'm about to have dinner with my daughter.
I can meet up with you afterwards.
Of course.
Have a nice dinner.
Thank you, sir.
You have to go to work?
Not before we eat.
[knocking]
Irving: It's open.
My son was working undercover for Internal Affairs.
Special Operations Division.
I had no idea.
No one did.
He was part of a team putting together a case
against a crew of corrupt vice and narcotics officers.
They'd been ripping off drug dealers, shaking down merchants.
And all of this?
At the moment, the RHD investigation into my son's death
is focused on possible gang retaliation.
Or that George did stumble into an armed robbery,
and his death had nothing to do with his undercover work.
Those both seem plausible.
No, he was found out.
And they murdered him.
Sir, I know one of the leads, Brad Coniff.
He's as good as it comes at his job.
I'm sure he is.
When he's allowed to do it.
But it's campaign season, Bosch.
Dirty cops killing a fellow officer.
Are you saying they'd cover this up?
The mayor and his police chief?
They'll do whatever they can to impede this investigation
until after the election.
And then they'll make sure it goes away quietly.
They'll cut deals with the guilty ones,
no trials, no headlines.
No blow back.
And no way to ever find out the truth.
Well, then, as much as it might make them uncomfortable,
there's no way they're gonna gut RHD's investigation.
I would in their position.
Done worse.
[sighs]
Chief, why am I here?
I want you to work the case.
With RHD?
With me.
I need you, Bosch.
I need a detective who will be relentless
on behalf of my son.
- Look, sir-- - Arceneaux.
And right now he's untouchable.
And he knows who's behind this.
And RHD can't even talk to him.
But you can.
Ah, shit, sir. Parallel investigation.
That's not a good idea.
Let RHD do their job.
They'll find your son's killer.
If they'd let them.
Who's they?
The tenth floor.
At my son's funeral,
you picked up a shell casing from the honor guard.
Well, that's something I always do at an officer's funeral.
Why?
Because he was one of us.
Then help me.
Help me find out who killed him.
[cell phone rings]
J. Edgar.
Edgar: We heading up to Mulholland
before it gets to hot?
Oh, shit. I forgot.
I'm Downtown. Something came up.
Do me a solid and handle Mulholland on your own.
I'll make it up to you.
Sure, Harry.
Thanks, partner.
Woman: Finney's doing more than okay.
Dropped the military pension,
and now he's running security
for some hedge fund baby out in Malibu.
Yeah, shit, if I was Finney
I'd be golfing six days a week.
Fuck work.
[chuckles]
Since when do you play golf, Coniff?
Oh, Harry Bosch.
Wow, I heard you were back on.
Been back a couple of weeks. Already caught a case.
Pornographer shot twice, stuffed in the trunk of his car.
Mm, the relentless glamour of police work.
This is my partner, Julie Espinosa.
- Harry Bosch, nice to meet you. - Good to meet you.
Heard you guys caught a hot one.
- Did we ever. - Yeah, how's that goin'?
Can't talk to the kid's partner,
'cause he's out IOD for stress.
Tenth floor is way up our ass big time
tellin' us what to do and when to do it.
Oh, seems like Tenzer'd go balls to the wall for this one.
Irving's one of his guys.
- Not since he endorsed O'Shea. - Oh. True.
You'd think they'd put politics aside for this.
[chuckles] No such thing Downtown, right?
Brad.
Yeah. All right, well, um, we'll figure it out.
Keep your head down, right?
It's all we can do.
Hey, why don't you stop by El Campadre sometime,
we'll cough down a pitcher of margaritas.
I'll do that.
Nice to meet you.
Likewise.
Your agent was last heard from--
Christmas Eve day. Two years ago.
Right. So Allen drove from Los Angeles to Vegas that night,
stayed about six hours,
Christmas morning he drove back before dawn.
Quick trip.
It's unusual.
He always stayed at least a few days.
But not this time.
On his way back, about 6 a.m.,
he took a detour off highway 15
a couple miles and stopped.
For nearly 90 minutes.
Off road in a Bentley before dawn.
Who does that?
I've made this trip more times than I care to remember,
and I can tell you there's absolutely nothing out there.
It's completely desolate.
So why'd your ex-husband give you this?
He didn't.
I took it off his desk and made a copy.
Well, isn't that just what you said you wouldn't do.
I said I wouldn't spy on him.
This is about your investigation, not his.
Now, that's a subtle distinction.
I appreciated your offer and wanted to be of use.
So far...
so good.
[punches landing]
[grunting]
[cell phone rings]
- Bosch. - I'm Downtown.
Give me half an hour.
Looks like a robbery.
It's supposed to.
Called his handler.
Asked him if George was wearing a wire that night.
There was no mention of a wire anywhere.
I know.
Lyle said he was wearing a wire that night.
His watch.
Which just happened to be stolen by the shooter.
And Lyle said it was a coincidence.
Let that play.
Maybe Arceneaux was involved,
help set up George.
I don't know.
He seems genuinely distraught.
[sighs] Maybe his partners didn't tell him about the hit.
Wanted a real reaction for the cameras.
We need to talk to him.
RHD has him under surveillance.
We can find a way around that.
We?
I assume this is off the books.
What books?
Eddie, you got a call.
[exhales] Okay.
[sighs] Ah.
- Make it quick. - Yeah, yeah.
Hello.
Irving: Officer Arceneaux. Deputy Chief Irving.
You need to come back to your house. Now.
We're gonna have that talk.
Yeah, you know I can't do that, right?
I've seen the video from the store.
I saw how upset you were.
Yeah, yeah, I was.
I know you didn't know what was going to happen to my son that night.
No, I didn't.
RHD thinks you were part of it.
Oh, I know.
Maybe I could help you.
[chuckles] Yeah, I don't know about that.
Don't dance with me, son.
You need to tell me yes or no now.
This chance won't come again.
Yeah, okay, well, how do we make that happen?
Go out the rear entrance.
Leave your gun and your duffle behind, you're coming back.
There's a car waiting.
Who the hell are you?
Uber.
I'm down the block.
By now they've figured out you're gone,
they'll be sending a car to sit on your house.
Uber, huh.
[groans] What the fuck?
Man, come on, man. What are you doing?
- Shut up. - I will fuckin' kill you.
[screams]
Fuck!
Goddammit.
Deputy Chief.
You're lucky it's us. And not La Eme.
La Eme? What the fuck are you talking about?
The drop house in Highland Park
that your crew ripped off last week.
Two bit trocoteros.
Shit.
Shit is right. You know Carlos Vega?
Jesus Christ, what do you want?
Names.
The man who killed my son,
and the man who ordered it done.
You told me that you knew that I had nothing to do with that.
Names, or we drop you on Vega's doorstep.
I didn't know that they were gonna kill him.
I swear to God.
George was my friend, goddammit.
- You keep saying that. - Names.
You don't understand, they'll kill me.
Vega will kill you sure as shit.
Pick your poison.
The last time I'm gonna ask.
I can't.
Gag him. Get him in the car.
All right, all right. Carl Nash.
- Nash? - Yeah.
Carl Nash. He's the one that ordered the hit.
All right, he found out that George was a rat.
What, you know him?
Ex-homicide.
Out of Van Nuys.
Nash ordered the hit.
Who pulled the trigger?
I can't-- I can't be sure.
Nick Riley. Maybe.
Narcotics. West Bureau.
The case I'm working,
my victim Tony Allen lived in Hidden Highlands.
Carl Nash runs security up there.
He's got a bunch of ex-cops and cops working for him.
What, you think the two cases are connected?
We like Veronica Allen for her husband's murder,
but she alibied solid.
Maybe she used Nash.
To kill her husband.
Look, she gets to know the ex-cop at the gatehouse,
trouble at home, husband's got a new girlfriend,
they start talking,
one thing leads to another.
What if Veronica hired Nash?
Contract murder's death penalty eligible.
So we get what we can out of this punk Arceneaux,
and we cut him loose.
We start workin' Nash on Allen's murder.
We get him on that, he'll deal.
He'll give up everybody involved in your son's murder.
Maybe the shooter, too.
Bosch: How'd you meet Nash?
He was a gun dealer.
His card was on the bulletin board in Van Nuys.
I heard that he could get me a throw away.
He sells you a throw away,
he knows what kind of piece of shit cop you are.
He recruited you?
Yeah, you could say that.
He threw me a couple of moonlighting gigs.
That's how it started.
How many in his crew?
I don't know. I only know the people that I work with.
- Which are who? - Jesus Christ.
Maureen O'Grady, Nick Riley,
Bernardo Piccininni.
All cops.
Yeah. Valley. West Bureau.
And they all work with Nash up at Highlands.
Yeah.
Tell me about Tony Allen.
I'm sorry, I don't know who that is.
Were you there that night?
- What night? - The night he was hit.
Fuck you. I-- I'm telling you I don't know any Tony Allen.
All right? And I sure as shit don't know about any hits.
Nash never mentioned him.
No. No fuckin' way. He never mentioned any murders.
I didn't do any murders,
and I had no idea that he was gonna do George, either.
I swear to God.
Ahh!
You have a choice.
Tell RHD what you know and cut a deal for yourself--
Oh, fuck that.
Or do nothing.
And wait for La Chuleta to come get you.
Word gets around.
What, you're gonna put my name on the street?
What? I thought that we had a deal.
Deal?
Motherfucker, I don't make deals with dirty cops.
Now, you have 24 hours.
Then La Eme gets your name and address.
[door closes]
[scoffs]
We need to hedge our bets.
Get Nash's name to RHD.
Let me handle that.
What would you have done if he hadn't coughed it up?
Given his name to La Eme.
♪♪
Coniff.
Hey, Bosch.
Twice in the same day.
Can I get you a margarita?
Got a minute?
Save my stool.
Ah, that didn't sound right.
- [laughs] - Save my seat.
Okay.
[sighs] What's up?
I got a lead for you on the Irving case.
A lead that you didn't have this morning.
Came in an hour ago in my case.
The pornographer.
And it's connected to ours?
So it would seem.
[sighs] You're such a prick.
You didn't just run into me this morning, you were workin' me.
I knew I shouldn't have fuckin' talked to you.
You want this or not?
[heavy sigh]
Let me hear it.
Carl Nash, ex-homicide, Van Nuys.
Runs security up at Hidden Highlands, hires cops.
Word is he's the go-to guy around Valley Bureau
to get weapons, legal or not.
And this is connected to the Irving murder how?
This Nash sold guns to Eddie Arceneaux.
Okay.
We'll look into it.
Let me know if it pans out.
Go fuck yourself.
[siren blaring]
[cell phone rings]
Harry.
Hey, how'd it go up there today?
I located the spot where he stopped the car.
Called SID.
- You find anything? - Nothing.
No blood, no shell casings.
Found a suitcase down the hill in the brush.
The black Toomey his wife told us about?
Nothing in it but laundry.
Confirms the location. Great work, Jerry.
Thanks. You called me. What's up?
Carl Nash.
You got something on him?
Yeah, I got a tip he sells guns on the side.
I want to check it out.
How's it connected to our case?
I'm not sure yet.
I need you to do something for me.
Shoot.
Edgar: He's at work.
You gonna tell me what this is about?
Bosch: I'll explain it later. See you back at the house.
[chuckles]
[car engine starts]
Sure he's at work?
Yeah. J. Edgar confirmed it.
No alarms, no security cameras.
Apparently, he doesn't feel the need.
Yeah.
[lock clicks]
You're good at that.
I usually have a warrant.
These were in the vent.
Nash was looking at Tony Allen.
[camera shutter clicks]
He knew about Layla.
He knew how to set up Rykoff,
make Tony Allen's murder look like a mob hit.
So what do we do?
We get a search warrant, come back, get these legally.
And these are enough?
These are enough.
Murder for hire.
The whole plan is right here.
Big question is, whose idea was it,
his or Veronica Allen's?
What the fuck are you doin' here?
Relax. I ran parallels.
Did you check for a GPS bug?
Yeah. Of course, I did.
It's on my car which is at the gym.
Whose shit box is this?
I borrowed it.
All right, we need to talk.
Follow me.
Back in a few.
Roger that.
- All right, listen-- - Shut the fuck up.
Come on, man, I'm not wearing a wire.
Give me your phone. And your watch.
What?
Give them to me now.
[scoffs] Oh, you gotta be kidding me.
Seriously.
There. Happy?
Dude!
You wanted to talk, talk.
They came at me pretty hard.
RHD? They can't talk to you.
No, not RHD.
Deputy Chief Irving and one of his dogs.
Irving himself came to you?
Yeah.
Jesus, he's runnin' off the books.
- Yeah, no shit it's off the books. - What did they say?
So you know that shitty little drop house over in Highland Park?
- That was La Eme. - The fuck it was.
No, the fuck it was.
And you know who else they brought up?
This guy La Chuleta. You know him?
Fuck!
What else?
They asked me about Tony Allen.
What did you tell them?
I didn't tell them shit. Nothing.
But you listen to me, there's blood in the water.
They know what's going on with us.
Any names come up?
No.
No, but they definitely have eyes
on me and O'Grady. It is time to get out.
Oh, so th-- this is where you shake me down?
It's exit time, Carl. All right?
I want my piece and you owe me.
You know I don't have it yet.
Ah, fuck.
I am not in a begging kind of mood, all right?
I came all the way out here to give you a head's up.
To tell you what's what.
Just hang tough a few more days.
As soon as it comes through,
everybody gets their share.
Fuck that! I am the one who's exposed here, all right?
Me. I was his partner.
I'm the one that's in the crosshairs,
and I have to get the fuck out of here
while I still can.
[sighs]
All right, all right.
Go home.
I'll front your piece.
Somebody'll come by with what you're owed.
When?
Tomorrow. The next day.
Don't worry, you'll get it.
In the meantime...
pull it together, man.
Don't forget your shit.
Yeah. Thanks again.
[car engine starts]
Bosch: These people are responsible.
Those are the fuckers that killed your son.
So now what?
Tomorrow we get a search warrant,
serve it as soon as the judge signs off.
We find the photos, open the gun safe.
And then we arrest Carl Nash for Tony Allen's murder.
- And RHD? - They'll get their shot at him
after Nash cuts a deal on the Allen hit,
starts talkin' about George's murder.
I want to be there when you arrest him.
I don't think that's a good idea, sir,
with what we've been doing.
I want to be there.
I'm gonna look you in the eye, motherfucker.
I'm gonna look you in the eye.
[car alarm chirps]
[beeping]
[lock clicks]
[sighs]
[groans]
No.
Bitch.
The fucking bitch.
[sighs]
[man talking on TV]
[sighs]
[dog barking]
[sighs]
Woman: Hi, Eddie.
- Mo. - I have your money.
You scared the fuckin' shit out of me.
Wait, I thought that you-- I thought you weren't comin' 'til tomorrow.
Well, you know Carl,
once he gets a bug in his ear.
He told me to take care of it tonight.
Yeah, all right. Let me get the lights.
Okay.
[gunshot]
[dog barking]
♪♪ . Let me get the lights.