- You, amigo. - Yeah. Bueno.
Whaddaya got?
The best.
Now, the, uh...
red is for the pork, green is for the chicken.
[sniffing]
Terry. Mm. I mean--
I know, right?
[chuckles] I am serious.
So, aside from, uh...
me turning you on to my favorite tamale truck.
I need a sounding board.
Somebody I can trust.
You know, is a player but isn't in the game anymore.
- I'm the best you can do? - Afraid so.
Shoot.
Caught one the other day.
Another detective came to the scene,
- you know, hard charger. - Mm-hm.
Guy I've known for years.
Process it, his prints turn up on a glass.
I ask him about it,
he says he made a mistake.
Took off his glove.
He's not the type.
Anyone can make a mistake.
You think he might be involved?
The thought crossed my mind.
That's a dark fuckin' thought.
He's been after this scumbag for years.
Knows he did it, knows in his bones.
The way we do.
Let's be honest.
Who'd miss the creep? Waste of fresh air.
Let it go.
You know me better than that.
Yeah. That's why I retired early.
You wore me out.
Can't take it to my lieutenant.
She thinks this guy walks on water.
Look, Santiago. Now, if you stir this shit,
nobody will ever want to work with you again, ever.
I know it.
So what you want to do is kick it into the open without your name on it.
That way, it becomes a command problem.
You keep your skirts clean.
Maddie: Dad!
I'll be right there.
Dobbs: How did he know to come up behind you?
- I don't know. - There's nothing you can think of
might have blown your cover?
- [scoffs] - You know, fuck you, Moreno.
I told you not to underestimate him.
Did he make you?
No, he didn't make me.
[sighs]
Xavi, see what you can find out. If he made Woody,
- I want to know. - He didn't make me, goddamnit.
- Find out where his head's at. - You got it, Cap.
No more fuck ups, Woodrow.
No, sir.
Doing great. Just keep an eye out for--
- Slow down a little. - Okay.
For what? An eye out for what?
Trash day. Cans.
- Whoa! - Shit.
- You good? - Yeah.
Dad, I am so sorry. I have absolutely no idea what happened.
- I-- - It's all right, it's all right,
It's not your fault. It was my fault,
I was distracted. You know what I think?
Reach in the glove box, there should be a pen and some paper.
Just write a note, give 'em my cell.
Don't worry about the mirror, it's just a mirror.
Mirrors are replaceable.
You were saying?
- Hm? - You think what?
Yeah, I don't want you home alone.
I mean, just for a couple of days
after school, hang out with friends,
work in the library 'til I can pick you up.
Okay?
Is this about last night?
It's probably me just being overprotective, but, yeah.
You got home really late.
Yeah. It was a false alarm.
Neighbor thought she had a prowler.
Well, that's not scary at all.
I've also been thinking maybe it's not a bad idea
to get you a real driving instructor.
If it's okay with you.
You could put up a small fight.
That big.
♪♪
♪ 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 ♪
♪♪
[knocking]
Woman: Just a minute.
Mrs. Niese? Detective Bosch.
Hollywood Division.
- Tommy okay? - He's fine.
May I come in?
Suit. Must be serious.
He's not in any kind of trouble at all,
I just need to ask him a few questions.
I've gotta get ready for work. You mind?
Do what you need to do.
I'm not gonna be much help, anyway.
I don't know where he is.
When's the last time you saw him?
A month ago, maybe, the last time you guys brought him back.
Stayed the night.
Gone in the morning before I got up.
Raided my purse, as usual.
Any idea who he hangs with?
- Friends? - I'm sorry, I don't.
First time he ran off, he was 12.
His life has been a mystery to me ever since.
On the streets, living in--
What do you call them? Squats?
Pain in my fuckin' ass.
Judges me for how I make a living.
But you'd take him back in a minute, wouldn't you?
Probably, yeah.
'Cause I'm, uh, big-hearted.
What do you think?
- Nice. - You're sweet.
Not a very good liar, but thanks.
It's all about the light.
The right light will hide a multitude of sins.
Leave my card here on the table.
If he shows.
He won't.
Thanks.
[cell phone rings]
J. Edgar.
The prints from the RV door handle.
One came back to a juvenile.
Thomas Niese.
Sharkey.
I got nothin' from his mom.
Put the word out to grab him up for a little chat.
I'm on my way back from Northridge now.
I'll organize a search party.
[phone rings]
Billets.
Lieutenant. Scott Anderson, Times.
What can I do for you, Mr. Anderson?
I'm writing a piece on the Edward Gunn case.
Well, you know I can't comment on an ongoing investigation.
No comment required.
I just need confirmation on a tip I received.
What's the tip?
That you're investigating one of your own people for the murder.
And who would that be?
No name given. A veteran officer.
Mr. Anderson, uh,
do you chase down every crackpot tip that you get?
Lieutenant, this came from someone in your department.
Who?
You know I can't give you my source.
So confirm or deny?
The tip is bogus. Have a blessed day.
[whistles]
You're the man.
Sweet!
[engine revving]
[siren chirps]
[sighs]
Let's go. Off the bike.
Come on.
You two stay there.
You know the deal. Let's go. Get in.
You just won the lottery.
Harry's on the streets, so I got an extra.
Lottery, huh?
That mean you get to walk over to the coffee table,
and get me two packs of sugar?
[chuckles] Way ahead of you, brother.
Appreciate it.
What's going on with Gunn?
Beats me. You have to ask Robertson.
Right now he has me chasing down watch band and bezel patterns.
What's a bezel?
The metal circle that secures the crystal on a watch.
What for?
Marks on Gunn's neck and back.
Robertson thinks choke hold, maybe.
Like old school LAPD.
You ever do that? Choke somebody out?
No, way before my time.
Well, Robertson seems to know a lot about it.
I don't know what he's thinking.
Give it time.
If it's any consolation,
I worked with Harry for months
before he trusted me enough to even have a cup of coffee with him.
[police radio chatter]
Sorry. Comin' in from Northridge.
What's in Northridge?
His mother.
You ought to call her.
Why? She don't care.
You ought to call her.
Need us to stay, in case he gets frisky?
No, I got this. Thanks, Edge.
Come here.
We lifted your prints off the RV door.
You lied to me.
Anything about your story true?
All right, I went and I tried the door.
All right? Then I got out of there.
You saw the body?
Yeah, I did.
I freaked and I split. That's all.
Okay, look, you're not a suspect.
I just need some help here is all.
Nobody's gonna ever know we talked.
Wouldn't hurt you to have a friend in the department.
Yeah, so I'm taggin', all right?
A car pulls up.
Black SUV you told me about.
Someone gets out, they go in,
they come right back out, like, a minute later,
they take off.
- You saw all this? - No, I heard it, okay?
I was fuckin' hiding. I didn't see shit.
So, the car pulls up. How many people in it, could you tell?
I don't know man. Look, I hid as soon as
I saw the headlights coming my way.
They see you?
I don't think so, I'm pretty quick.
So, what else?
All right, I heard a thud.
Right? Like... something getting knocked over.
Kind of muffled.
Like a gunshot?
Could have been. I don't know.
Okay, so they split. And then what?
Then I went, I looked in the RV.
All right, and I got the fuck out of there.
Shit, man, I knew I should have called 9-1-1.
- Didn't want to snitch. - No, I didn't.
And I didn't want to get blamed for it, either.
I get that. Let's go. I'll give you a lift.
Anderson: Yeah, but this is major, Brad.
A suspected serial killer murdered,
and the cops are looking at one of their own.
You don't buy the denial.
Shit. For me, it just confirms we're on the right track.
Call me old fashioned, but we need a second source.
Not just click bait we have to walk back by Friday.
Who do you think they're looking at?
My source didn't give me a name. A veteran officer.
- Your source inside the department? - Correct.
You call Bosch?
He knows the Gunn case better than anyone.
Bosch will tell me to fuck off.
I'd characterize that as decline to comment.
Still, doesn't he owe us?
Didn't Russell help him solve his mother's murder?
I'm not sure he sees it that way.
You're creative.
You'll think of something.
What if it's him?
Who, Bosch?
Yeah.
What if he's the veteran officer?
Then he'll definitely tell you to fuck off.
Here you go.
Thank you.
So, you think it's Jimmy.
I don't picture Pierce tipping that reporter.
I'm sure he knows by now Harry's been stalking Gunn for years.
What else has Jimmy got?
He noticed marks on Gunn's neck and back.
Possible choke hold.
He told Pierce he thinks it could be connected to law enforcement.
Oh, Christ.
And what do you have that Jimmy doesn't?
A surveillance camera I found in Gunn's apartment.
And I found something else that night.
- An owl. - An owl?
Plastic garden owl.
I think somebody put it there the night of the murder.
There was a message on it.
Cave Cave Deus Videt.
I Googled it.
- It's Latin. - What does it mean?
Beware, beware, God sees.
Like God is watching.
Watching what?
Gunn.
His sins. His evil doings.
His rapes and murders.
Guess which 15th century Dutch artist
painted that phrase on a table top.
Hieronymus Bosch.
[chuckles]
So, what, Harry Bosch, the avenging angel?
Something like that.
Least we're meant to think so.
What, that Harry killed Gunn?
Why would he point the finger at himself?
He wouldn't. It's a frame.
The question is, who would?
Who would go through all that trouble to frame him?
The Holland trial. Smear Bosch.
Andrew Holland. Thinks he's clever.
Thinks he's making a movie.
[sighs] Oh, my God.
Have you talked to Harry yet?
Not yet.
Jerry, you've gotta talk to him.
You've got to tell him what's going on.
I know.
[touch tones]
Woman's voice: You have five messages.
Woman: Detective Bosch, this is Sergeant Amy Snyder, IA.
- Please call me b-- - Message deleted.
Man: Hello, Mr. Bosch, this is Rich Isbin.
- You might remember me from-- - Message deleted.
Woman: Detective Bosch, Amy Snyder again.
- Please give me a-- - Messaged deleted.
Man: Bosch, you putz.
This is your old pal, Rick Jackson.
Your current partner came to see me
about you and your girlfriend Eddie Gunn.
He asked me not to tell you.
Thought you ought to know.
- [beep] - Message saved.
Man: Detective Bosch, Scott Anderson.
I'd really appreciate a few minutes of your time.
You have my number.
- [beep] - Message deleted.
No more messages.
♪♪
[paper rustling]
Hey, Harry.
J. Edgar. How was the Getty?
What?
The other day when I met with Goshen,
you were off the radar.
Oh, I told you, I had a dental thing.
I've been meaning to get up there with Maddie.
- It's beautiful. - Yeah, it is.
Oh, so you were up there.
Just had to get away, think about some things.
Cell phone reception was shitty.
That's why I missed your call.
You know what? Don't insult me with your fuckin' lies.
Really, Jerry?
You're investigating me for Gunn's murder? I'm a suspect?
No. I think you're being set up.
- You think? - I know you're being set up.
When were you planning to tell me this, partner?
Now. Why I'm here.
I just finished filling Billets in.
Oh, so she's in on this, too?
Why didn't you come to me first?
I had to know exactly what was going on.
You needed to make sure I didn't kill Gunn? Are you serious?
I know you didn't kill Gunn.
- I was following the evidence. - Fuck you.
Harry, I'm not the only one looking into this.
Who, Robertson? It's his case.
He's gotta do what he's gotta do,
but he's not my partner.
- I never thought you-- - No, you know what?
We still gotta work the Meadows case together.
After that, maybe it's time for a change.
Tomorrow morning, call Scott Anderson.
Get to the bottom of this bullshit.
[traffic noise]
Morning, gentlemen.
Thanks for meeting me.
Before we start, I need to know where the tip came from.
[chuckles] You know I can't do that.
Look, I just need confirmation.
You guys investigating somebody within LAPD for Gunn's murder?
I just need to know your source.
Not gonna happen.
Look, I'm trying to spare you some grief here,
because if you run this story without confirmation,
you'll regret it.
Are you threatening me?
Not at all, just giving you a reality check.
- The tip is wrong. - If you fall for it,
you're gonna look like a fool.
It's a career ender.
So is giving up my source.
One guess, one name, yes or no.
What do I get in return?
First call.
Whole story on Gunn.
Whole story.
- One name? - J. Edgar: That's it.
All right. Take a guess.
Jimmy Robertson.
[scoffs]
- No? - No.
Not Robertson.
First call, right?
That's the deal.
Great. And if I get another source,
I'll just run with the story.
He was a little late with a smile.
[sighs]
[clears throat]
- Woman: Hello, CRT. - This is Chief Irving.
I'm trying to reach one of your CRT volunteers.
Okay. Can I have the last name, please?
- Jun Park. - Okay. I have that number here.
Yeah, go ahead.
Jimmy. Need a word.
- Wait in my office. - I need to talk to him.
I need to talk to him first.
You leaked an active investigation to a fuckin' reporter.
- It wasn't me. - Bullshit.
Yeah, bullshit is right. Where'd you get that?
- Scott Anderson. - Wait.
He said that Jimmy was his source?
- He denied it. - There you go.
He's a fuckin' liar. It was written all over his face.
- It's you. - Go fuck yourself.
All right, you know what? Stand down, both of you.
My office, Monday morning, we will straighten all this out.
Take the weekend to cool off.
I'm following the evidence, Bosch.
I sure as hell don't want to see it
buried by your friends in the department.
You're on very thin ice. Not another word.
And you have impeccable timing.
Sergeant Snyder is in my office.
Did you okay J. Edgar doing an off the books investigation on Gunn?
On me?
You were never a suspect, Harry.
We were concerned about where this might lead.
All right, we were trying to protect you.
Tell her I'm busy.
Woman: I hope everything's all right.
Woody's a good tenant.
Quiet.
Just a few routine questions.
[sighs]
Woody.
Woody!
[sighs]
Surf's up somewhere.
Rincon. Trestles.
Sometimes he takes off for Mexico, Baja, San Blas.
Maybe he's just down at Espresso Yourself on the boardwalk.
Any idea when he'll be back?
Could be 30 minutes or 30 days.
You never know.
Tell him it's about Billy Meadows.
- Thank you. - Yeah, thank you.
You ever surf?
Is this "let's pretend we're partners again" small talk?
- Yeah. - No.
No, you never surfed, or no, you're not ready for partner small talk?
Both.
Man: Call these sculptures "Memories of the 'Stan."
Tribute to the fallen of my unit.
This is Danny. He rides a wheelchair now.
He was lucky. Still got his balls.
ID any of these guys?
Quarles and Tuck.
Dumb fucks. Re-enlisted. They're in Kandahar.
Here's your boy Meadows. Wasn't surprised when I heard.
Billy was living on borrowed time.
He was tight with these three.
Captain Dobbs. Xavi Moreno. Woody Woodrow.
Four amigos. Fearless motherfuckers.
How about this?
So much cash floating around back then.
Most of it got diverted.
Corrupt motherfuckers. Supposed to go for schools and sewers.
Not to sound too sanctimonious,
at lot of us lined up for our turn at the trough, too.
How so?
Oh, everybody had a little side action going on.
Uh, arms, drugs, cash.
I heard tell of a Jeep shipped home
with gold stashed in every nook and cranny.
How do you get a Jeep stuffed with gold through customs?
You don't. You go through military channels.
You know, "Thank you for your service, son."
They just wave it on through.
All you need is one guy on that end to put it on the boat,
and one guy on this end to take it off.
Those guys come cheap.
How about her?
She was on the base.
Didn't know her. Couldn't tell you her name.
Was she tight with Meadows?
If they were, they kept it a secret.
You gonna make one of these for Meadows?
He's a casualty of that fuckin' war, isn't he?
De Oppresso Liber. Billy Meadows.
De Oppresso Liber.
I've had to make far too many of those calls
- over the years. - Yeah.
You think it would get easier, but, um--
I'm afraid I'm still not very good at it.
From what I saw, I think you are.
Can I, um...
ask you a question?
Yeah, sure.
I have to make those calls.
Pay my respects to victim's families, officer's families.
Uh, are you asking me why I do CRT?
I'm curious.
Many CRT volunteers have some...
direct experience with this sort of loss.
It gives them empathy.
- Um-- - I'm sorry, it's none of my business.
I watched you with that family,
and I just thought, uh--
That we might have something in common?
Yeah, I guess.
My little brother.
Gunned down in a drive-by.
Four ABZ gangsters. Kids his age.
I'm so sorry.
Killed my father.
He died nine months later,
and then my mother, she moved back to Seoul to live with her sister.
But you stayed.
Yeah, this is my city, I grew up here.
A friend told me about CRT, and I thought,
maybe, just maybe, it would--
And I was right.
Trying to help other people, it helps me somehow.
At least sometimes.
I'm sure you know what all that feels like, yeah?
Yes. I do.
[clears throat] You know, I, um--
I haven't been on a date in 30 years.
- Um-- - Is, um--
Is that what this is, a date?
Oh, Lord, no. I mean--
Uh-- [chuckles] Uh--
But if I were to ask you out...
What have you got to lose?
Good luck with your witness.
What you workin' on?
Science fair thing with Jack.
Hasn't managed to blow up the school yet?
Workin' on it.
Wait.
Was that small talk?
Hi, this is Annabelle. Leave a message.
[beep]
Annabelle, this is Anita again.
We're still waiting on you.
Please call us, let us know what's going on.
Thank you.
I have a bad feeling about this.
What if something happened to her?
You want I should go check?
Do you mind?
Let me go see if I can find her.
[doorbell rings]
Car service for Mr. Jack Edgar.
Thank you for doing this for me.
Of course. All set?
Hey, champ. Ready?
Science fair awaits.
Don't you want to see it first?
Absolutely. Go slow. Remember your audience.
Dad, it's simple. Really.
Remember that PEM?
Slow.
Polymer electrolyte membrane.
You got it for me online. It cost $87.
I remember that. [chuckles]
I used it to make a hydrogen fuel cell
that propels the vehicle.
- All I do is add water-- - Mm-hm.
The cell separates into hydrogen and oxygen.
[electronic blips]
Zoom, zoom.
So, add water. Zoom, zoom.
- Just water. - And the flashing lights?
- Gotta look cool. - [chuckles]
Very cool, kid. Very cool.
[indistinct chatter]
Annabelle.
You forgot our appointment.
How did you find me?
Your neighbor ratted you out.
Get dressed. I'll wait for you.
I can't today. I have a date.
Name a time. I'll pick you up any day this week.
Do we have to? I already told you everything.
- I swear, there's-- - Not everything.
And yes, we have to.
Make sure you're ready for trial.
Listen, uh, I've changed my mind. I can't do it.
- Annabelle. - I can't.
I've decided not to testify.
They found out, didn't they?
- What? - What you do.
In your other life.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Leah Camille.
They'll crucify me in court.
Not if we bring it up first.
Get it out of the way.
Admit it and move on.
And everyone will know I'm a whore.
I understand why you didn't tell us.
Please, you have no idea.
Actually, I do.
When you came to us, that took a tremendous amount of courage.
I guess.
You told us you thought if you'd come forward sooner,
that Donatella might still be alive.
And what did I tell you?
- That it wasn't my fault. - And it wasn't.
But if Andrew Holland gets off,
he'll do it again.
I'm sorry.
Somebody got to her.
Benitez: She say who?
No. Must be Holland's people.
His lawyer or Rudy Tafero.
O'Shea is gonna shit a brick.
I feel his pain.
[clattering]
Uh-huh.
What if the kid did?
What if he saw me?
Break.
Will you relax? He didn't.
So why does he keep talking to him?
'Cause he's got nothin' else.
Nada.
Kid's not a problem.
[balls clattering]
- Yo, Merch. - Woody Woodrow.
- My brother. - What's up, brother?
- Xavi: [laughing] - Hey.
You're late.
- So, Merch. - Captain D.
- How's it hangin'? - Shit. You tell me.
This puppy is wired, end to end.
You got us?
- Same as always. - Ah, go Army.
Then we are golden.
Rock and roll, brother.
[balls clattering]
[sighs]
[car horn honks]
Hey, Maddie, your driving instructor's here.
Maddie: Coming.
Be a good listener, and drive carefully.
Well, it's easy if your dad isn't clutching the dashboard
like the plane's going down in flames.
Much easier for your dad, too.
Hey, you been messin' around with my shrine here?
No. Why?
- [horn honking] - No reason.
- Bye. - Bye.
[door opens]
[door closes]
[banging]
Got a warrant?
I don't need a warrant for what I'm gonna do to you
if you ever toss my house again.
I don't know what you're talkin' about.
Find what you were lookin' for?
You're losing your shit, Bosch.
I don't know who stalked your house.
And stay away from Annabelle Crowe
or I'll have the DA ring you up for tampering.
I haven't talked to her, I haven't touched her,
I haven't tampered with her, much as I'd like to.
Bullshit. Do not go near her again,
and do not contact her in any way.
You got that?
Anything else?
My daughter, my house,
out of fuckin' bounds!
We clear?
Or what?
Or you won't see me comin' 'til it's over.
Bosch, I got 20 years on the job.
You really think I couldn't creep your crib
without leaving footprints?
Wasn't me, brother.
Hey. Look alive.
[whirring]
- Hey. How's it goin'? - It's goin'.
What up?
Not much. Out for a ride.
You in the mood for a ride?
Where to?
I don't know. There's a place.
Not too far.
Little more private.
Anything in particular?
I hope you're bilingual.
- [chuckles] - Yeah, I am, if the money's right.
[chuckles] Look, you're gonna have such a good time,
you're gonna pay me.
Cool.
So, where we goin'?
There's a nice place.
Nobody will bother us.
- [tires squealing] - [horn honking]
What was that?
Wouldn't you rather have fun than wait at a light?
Me, too.
Have we met before?
Pretty sure not.
I like you, Sharkey.
How do you know that?
Because...
this has your name on it.
[grunting]
[groaning]
[grunting]
[gagging]
- ♪♪ [jazz] - [cell phone rings]
Bosch.
Johnson: That kid you've been dealing with, Thomas Niese.
Yeah. Where is he?
Pedestrian tunnel at the Hollywood Bowl.
- Harry. - Yeah. On my way.
- [knocking] - Maddie: It's open.
Mads, sorry to wake you up.
I gotta go out. Won't take long.
It's not my case, but I'm gonna go take a look,
so get dressed.
- A crime scene? - Crime scene.
- Cool. - No, it's-- it's not cool.
That's why you're gonna be waiting in the car.
[scoffs] Dad.
[police radio chatter]
So much blood.
That's what happens when the bleeders are cut.
[sighs]
[police radio chatter]
Dad?
You okay?
Let's go home.
[car engine starts]
♪♪
rts]