-Last season on Bosch... -(grunting)
IRVING: It is essential we clear this case quickly.
If this goes where the public thinks it goes?
That's my concern.
You just follow the evidence.
Let the chips fall where they may.
-Detective. -Ms. Chandler.
When I got the call to be special master and heard
the lead detective was you, my heart leapt.
ELEANOR: Then Griffin came to me with an assignment:
help them see if
family Wu is behind something they were looking into,
and I'd get my credentials back.
Eleanor?
(engine revving)
-MAN: Hey! -Fuck!
(people screaming)
MADDIE: Why would someone kill Mom?
BOSCH: I don't know.
Something to do with her job.
Are you gonna go after whoever did it?
Not my case.
There's a D3 spot in Newton Division.
I was hoping you could reach out for me.
-Homicide? -I need to promote, LT.
Right here in Hollywood, we've got two D3s
who are in their final year of drop.
-You'll make the call? -They'd be lucky to have you.
BARREL: Stolen property, assault with a gun, murder.
Suspect wearing a hat, riding a bicycle.
We solved the Koreatown Killer.
If I'm in, I'm in all the way,
which means no surprises, not this time.
We get there, we'll see how it goes down.
That's not enough, I understand.
So you're cutting the department loose.
I guess that means you're cutting me loose, as well.
I feel like I have to.
I think it'd do some good.
Then I guess you were right, Mr. Mayor--
old friends are becoming new enemies.
JUNIOR: What you looking for?
PIERCE: Bullet that killed Lanny Johnson.
Got you.
BOSCH: You're good for the murders of Howard Elias
and Lanny Johnson. Then there's Caffrey,
the other victims of the River Watch arson.
And Marjorie Lowe.
Drop the fucking gun.
Get on your knees.
Put your hands on your head.
Just say it.
You murdered my mother, you pig.
I did.
(scoffs)
All I need.
It's done.
(engine humming)
(engine whirring down)
There you go.
Come on.
File in.
Get nice and snug.
Come on, guys, let's get a move on, come on.
♪ ♪
(plane doors close)
(van engine starts)
(van door closes)
♪ ♪
(barks)
(rattling)
(coyote howls in distance)
(man coughs)
Keep moving.
(coughing)
(man coughing)
Fuck out the way, Gramps.
(grunting)
Stop!
No, no, no. Two. I earned the two.
-You fight, you only get one. -Oh, man.
Keep it fucking moving, Trey, or you're gone.
You, too. One and done.
Get yourself something to eat.
Here.
Pick your poison. Take it with you.
(woman groans)
(woman coughs)
(man coughing)
Old man, you owe me an 80.
You can try and collect
any time you want, fuckface.
(groans)
Trey is gonna come after you.
You shouldn't have pissed him off.
You all right?
Don't talk to me. Fuck off.
(coyotes howling in distance)
Yo.
Bunk in that bus. Pick any empty cot.
(clicks tongue, kisses)
(dog whines, pants)
(sniffs)
(phone rings)
Hey, Maddie.
So where is my dad, really?
We're in the middle of something.
He's gonna be a little...
Late. Yeah, that's what your message said.
And I call bullshit. He and I have a deal.
-I don't know what you're talking about. -If we're late,
we text or we call. We don't have our partner leave word.
Where is he, Jerry?
He made the rules.
Look, Maddie...
Fine. Whatever it is, tell him I don't care.
I have a message. It's urgent. I need him to call me back
-as soon as he can. -I'll pass the word.
(sighs)
Damn.
(soft growling)
(footsteps approaching)
(grunting)
I am the last guy in the world that you want to fuck with.
You come near me again
and I'm gonna flip your off switch.
(grunts, coughs)
Get the fuck out of here.
(whimpering)
♪ ♪
(indistinct chatter)
-Sooner or later... -(chips clicking)
CARTER: Walsh murdered the last Mexican got up in his grill.
-(vehicle approaches) -VARDY: Yeah, well, when that wall goes up...
STONES: Jesus, how does a fucking wall change anything?
VARDY: American dope for American dopers.
CARTER: The wall's a metaphor.
-STONES: A... a what? -CARTER: A metaphor.
VARDY: You worry too much, Stones.
STONES: 'Cause no one else does.
WALSH (British accent): You boys get your city mess cleaned up?
VARDY: Yes, sir.
WALSH: I hear the beta crew had a good run.
Everybody pulled their weight.
12 shills, hundred-count each.
Almost 40 grand. Go out with a flair.
CARTER: That last load of China girl finally
-come in this morning. -WALSH: I want the chemicals
and equipment moved off-site tomorrow.
Found a place near Glamis.
VARDY: We're gonna move the whole camp?
Not yet, but these shills are the last ones
we're gonna work out here.
(click)
Hey.
BOSCH: Jesus Christ.
The fuck was that about?
(groans)
You're new.
Maybe you're unclear on how we do things here.
I was looking for the shitter. I got lost.
Huh.
Do we need our backpack to take a dump?
I don't want someone stealing my shit.
(whistles)
This piece of shit is yours?
They took my phone at the clinic. Where's my phone?
Fuck you need a phone for?
You spying on us?
Huh?
No.
(chuckles softly) Peeping Tom.
I didn't know the rules.
I mean, I didn't know I need permission
-to go to the can. -Look at him sweating.
I'm sick. You only gave me one fucking pill!
You get a good measure of a man
from the way he keeps his gun.
BOSCH: O-Okay.
Look...
I got lost.
All right?
I'm sorry. Won't happen again.
It happens.
Life.
So fucking random, right?
So many important things...
...determined seemingly by chance.
You know?
There but for the grace of God and so forth.
No. Sorry.
I'm not that stupid.
♪ ♪
♪ I got a feeling that I can't let go ♪
-♪ Can't let go ♪ -♪ I got a feeling that I can't let go ♪
-♪ Can't let go, can't let go ♪ -♪ I got a feeling ♪
♪ That I can't let go ♪
♪ I got a feeling that I can't let go ♪
-♪ Can't let go, can't let go ♪ -♪ I got a feeling ♪
♪ That I can't let go ♪
♪ Can't let go ♪
♪ Like me. ♪
Twice a day.
Eat something before you take them.
No, no, no, if you're feeling light-headed...
I don't think it's the medicine.
You should talk to your doctor.
Mm-hmm. You're welcome.
What do you want for lunch today?
That Thai place?
You hate Thai.
Mijo, I'm just trying to do what's right.
I'm gonna go for a walk. Try and clear my head.
(door opens, closes)
(door opens, bell rings)
-Hola. -Good morning, Mr. Warren.
How's those allergies today?
You swipe right or left. If you match, you chat.
Yeah, I don't need some app to get laid, man.
Could've fooled me.
Wait.
Not yet.
(stapler clicking)
How's it going?
The machine can do that for you.
I've got it. Thanks.
Watch.
This will blow your mind.
-Boom. -Thanks.
I worked here as an undergrad, like you.
I'm Tom.
Maddie Bosch.
Your dad's the detective.
-He is. -We were just talking about him.
-I'm clerking with... -CIU.
I know.
We're looking into this...
this Skyler case I guess your dad was a part of.
Making sure mistakes weren't made.
Oh.
Okay.
There you go.
Well, thanks again.
Yep.
(door opens, bell rings)
(car door opens)
(engine starts)
-Where's your son? -Take whatever you want.
There's no safe. The money's all out here.
Where is Jose?
-(grunts) -Get on the ground.
Anything?
Where is your son?
-I don't know. -Is he coming back?
Please.
I-I'm not stocking the oxy anymore.
Yeah. That's tragic.
Victim was found early Friday morning.
Killed somewhere else. T.O.D. around midnight.
Could be he left a signature.
A cross scratched on the hallux nail.
CONNIFF: Odd patterns of blunt force trauma,
and the bruise marks
are from postmortem restraint.
-What'd I miss? -Creep signed his kill.
-CONNIFF: You can see that here... -(phone buzzes)
-Jesus. -and here.
-Take notes for me. -Yeah.
Maybe we should just wait for Jose.
He didn't do anything. It was me.
We know.
-What's up? -MADDIE: Hey, did you work
the Skyler murder case?
Yeah. About 20 years ago. Why?
Somebody in my office said they're investigating it.
Oh, cons are always trying
to get the D.A. to reopen their cases.
You know, police misconduct,
-blah, blah, blah. -It sounds like a big deal.
No. It's business as usual.
I wasn't even lead detective on that case.
-So you're not worried? -Guy who did it
-is a stone-cold psychopath -6-Adam-42, en route.
and right where he needs to be.
End of story. Okay?
-Got to go. -Do well.
(indistinct chatter over radio)
211 in progress.
-Close by. You want to roll? -Yeah.
I'll drive.
-(siren wailing) OFFICER: 6-Adam-45,
we're code 6 on the 211 in progress.
DISPATCHER: (over radio): 6-Adam-45 is code 6,
still under progress.
Shit, shit, shit.
OFFICER 2: 6-Adam-45, advise units responding.
I need units at Melrose and Heliotrope
and Melrose and Edgemont.
DISPATCHER: All units responding to the 211 in progress.
Melrose and Heliotrope. Melrose and Edgemont.
-That's just north of us. -I'm down if you are.
-(siren wailing) -CRATE: 6-William-23,
show us responding code 3
to the 211.
Eastbound from Beverly and Kenmore.
DISPATCHER: 6-William-23
is responding to the 211 in progress.
-Code 3, Beverly and Kenmore. -Clear right.
Go.
"Uh, I don't stock the oxy anymore."
Yeah? Not for us, anyway.
(siren wailing)
Shit. Cops, man. Come on!
Come on!
Clear right. Wait!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
Goddamn it.
OFFICER 2 (on radio): 6-A-45, officer needs help
at Clinton and Heliotrope.
Responding units just TC'd.
(grunting)
(indistinct radio chatter)
-(grunts) You all right? -Yeah, I'm fine.
-Yeah? Oh, don't move. Stay still. -Yeah.
(siren wailing, horn honks)
What the hell were you old assholes doing?
Running the code 3, same as you fresh assholes.
-Come on, re... -Hey,
-you're walking funny. -Hey, hey.
Don't move. Don't move, all right?
-I heard you call clear. -I know.
They were blowing down that cross street way too fast.
(mouths)
Aw, fuck.
Oh, little kids. Thanks.
Eight and ten. Church parking lot.
Killed by crossfire. No wits.
Rollin 60's, we think.
They got a thing going on right now.
With Eight Tray?
No. Some kind of palace coup.
There's a parolee just got out last week, Bo Jonas.
Asked his P.O. to do a follow-up, but...
wouldn't you know it, Jonas skipped.
What's that got to do with me?
Well, Gary Wise, he ran with Jonas.
Last we spoke, Gary put those days behind him.
When was that?
We spoke?
I don't know. Couple of years ago, probably.
We've got no other leads, Jerry.
If he doesn't want to dip back in,
-I got to respect that. -Fair enough.
MARCOS: So, where are you gonna land
when Hollywood Homicide is no more?
They've been talking about that forever.
We're hearing the West Bureau is next to get centralized.
End of the Holy Bosch Empire.
-I'll believe it when it happens. -You're always welcome
to join us, Jerry.
South of the 10.
(chuckles)
This is exactly why CIU was created.
We can't be afraid to check our work...
-Hey, Maddie. -Oh, do you mind, just...?
Thanks.
♪ ♪
(camera clicking)
(indistinct radio chatter)
(helicopter blades whirring)
Anybody hurt?
Banged up, but okay.
All right. Suspects still inside?
Nobody's seen 'em leave, but half our units
responded to the crash.
PIERCE: We're going in.
Right clear!
Back right room clear!
Left side clear.
6-Adam-14, requesting an R.A. to the pharmacy.
50-year-old male, gunshot wound to the head.
Not conscious, not breathing.
6-L-10, we got you on a Code 4.
Okay, guys. Clear out.
Thanks.
-Shit. -Pierce...
this way.
Front door was locked from the inside.
(dog barking in distance)
(helicopter blades whirring)
Where'd they go?
Work the outside.
You think they're still close?
I don't, no.
But request a K-9 unit to respond, widen the perimeter.
After the search, grab a couple of bluesuits
for a video canvass.
Copy that.
(camera clicking)
All right, clipboards on both doors.
Right down the name and badge number
of everyone who enters the crime scene.
And somebody track down the 911 caller.
Oxycodone.
Took 'em for my shoulder.
Sign on the window says no opioids.
Who was he trying to fool?
Look at the way he dropped.
On his knees when they dumped him.
Heart and head.
Statement kill.
(indistinct chatter)
(cameras clicking)
(siren wailing)
(siren stops)
ROBSON (over video): Come on, asshole!
Where you gonna go?
EDGEWOOD: Police! Let me see your hands!
-Get on the ground! -I don't have a gun, man.
Lay on the ground!
-Don't shoot me! -Keep your hands where we can see 'em!
EDGEWOOD: Sir, nobody wants to shoot you, okay?
-Don't shoot me! -Keep your hands where we can see 'em!
-EDGEWOOD: Stay cool! -Let me just, let me just...
ROBSON: Gun, gun, gun!
EDGEWOOD: Shit. Shots fired. Shots fired.
-Suspect down. -(sighs)
Show us your hands!
Sir, can you hear us? We need to see your hands.
(knocking)
Chief?
There's been a blue-on-blue traffic collision in Hollywood.
Both units responding to a 211 in progress.
Injuries?
Minor. Paramedics on scene.
And the 211?
Suspects G.O.A.
(sighs) Have Captain Cooper touch base with me
as soon as he has a chance.
Yes, sir.
Chief, the D.A. says later today is fine.
-(door closes) -Call back and confirm.
Thank you, Ida.
Okay.
(door opens, closes)
EDGEWOOD (over video): We can't get this guy help
until we get the gun. Cover me.
ROBSON (panting): I-I saw a weapon.
(sighs)
(helicopter blades whirring)
POWERS: You OGs, you never call incoming.
BARREL: We did. Pull the broadcast recording.
You were going too fast.
POWERS: Would have seen it if you had eyes.
BARREL: We were halfway through the fucking intersection.
Reaction time, reflexes, age--
how is that gonna help you here, Johnson?
I was driving these streets before you were even
a sperm cell in your daddy's nutsack.
Okay, knock it off, both of you. Are you okay?
How can you tell? He's a wreck on a good day.
-I'm not the problem here, LT. -Oh, you know what?
Hey, what's going on with your leg, Powers?
Nothing. Nothing.
Tweaked something, ma'am.
Don't worry about me, I'm not even a quart low.
Adams, how much longer before we can clear the vehicles?
Tow is already in route, LT.
-Was this my guys? -It's too early to say.
Looks like there's plenty of blame to go around, though.
Tell me these detectives weren't running a silent Code 3.
They were not.
And patrol can fuck off for spreading that fucking lie.
Okay, can we please stay on task with our 211
and we'll hash this out later.
Okay. We've got a four-block perimeter.
Lieutenant Thorne, he's worried that the suspects
actually slipped through before we locked down.
You can tell him I got West Bureau to send more units
for a wider patrol.
Roger that.
(indistinct chatter nearby)
♪ ♪
Esquivel, Jose.
Lives here in Hollywood.
Organ donor.
Good luck with that.
There's nothing left to harvest.
Eyes are ruined on account of this head shot.
Chest wounds made a chocolate mess.
Heart's history, lungs, etcetera.
They hit the register and safe?
EDGAR: They didn't come for the cash.
Jerry.
Bosch, mask.
Yeah, yeah.
Grab a chair.
Esquivel has a son.
Fresh out of pharmacy school.
Some kind of pill scam?
Family pharmacy.
Low traffic.
Shitload of unpaid invoices.
Easy money. So what changed?
Gun in the bottom drawer.
Evidently didn't feel a need
to have it with him out front, so...
Maybe he wasn't expecting them.
Or maybe he wasn't expecting them to do this.
Well, we know one of them is left-handed.
There's that.
We got to find Junior.
(sniffing)
Far as they went on foot.
Somebody was waiting for them.
Well, maybe the car that dropped them off.
Why would it come in here,
not just wait in the alley?
Check for video at the front gate.
Then all the responding unit in-car cams.
Maybe one of them caught the suspects drive past.
(quietly): Shit.
(train horn blows in distance)
(whimpering)
(coughs) What the hell is wrong with you?
(train horn blowing)
(engine starts)
No answer. Left a message.
Didn't find any numbers back there for a wife
-or other family. -We'll circle by the house.
Security camera records over itself every seven days.
We look back that far, maybe our killers made a cameo.
The fuck is he?
I don't know.
But we can't stay.
Asshole.
Situation went sideways.
And we're late getting here.
(keys jangle)
(typing)
(mouse clicking)
Hey, Maddie.
Some of us are hitting Broken Spanish for happy hour.
Cool. But I've got to finish this up.
Sure.
Maybe another time.
(door closes)
(birds chirping)
(car door opens)
Help you with something?
LAPD, ma'am.
Detectives Edgar and Bosch.
We're looking to talk to Jose Esquivel Jr.
This is the address we have for him.
Has something happened?
BOSCH: Junior been home today?
I saw them going to work together this morning,
like they always do.
-Jose and his father. -Yeah.
They were barking at each other pretty good when they left.
Any idea what about?
What else? Money. Lack of it.
Do you know if they leave a hidden key?
Don't you need a warrant for that?
Not to make sure that he isn't in there
and, if he is, that he's okay.
I have a key in my house.
They have mine. We...
look after each other.
(door creaking)
(dog barking in distance)
LAPD.
Anyone home?
So, you gonna tell me what's going on
or is this some kind of a state secret?
EDGAR: There was a robbery at the pharmacy.
That's why we need to talk to his son.
(Lois and Edgar speaking indistinctly)
♪ ♪
EDGAR: Do you know if they have any other family in the city?
Someone we should contact?
Mr. Esquivel's a widower.
Just the one son. Didn't have many visitors.
They're always working, those two.
EDGAR: If he contacts you or anyone comes around,
please, give me a call.
I will.
(door creaking)
Thanks very much.
Place is pretty clean. No sign he's been here.
Full search might spook him.
Yeah. Better get S.I.S. to sit on the house.
I'll write a warrant. Maybe he'll surface
-in the meantime. -If he's still alive.
(dog barking in distance)
BORDERS (over video): One date. Didn't work out. The end.
We met at the restaurant. I drove her home.
BOSCH: Walk her in?
No. No. She, uh...
she jumped out and was gone
before I even had a chance to be the gentleman.
BOSCH: What was her beef?
BORDERS: She just didn't like what I had to say, I guess.
BOSCH: Which was what?
BORDERS: No magic, you know?
Me and her, it's, uh--
It was a nice try, but, uh...
it just wasn't right.
BOSCH: You were never in her apartment?
BORDERS: No, I was never in her apartment.
BOSCH: Not even to her door?
BORDERS: No.
BOSCH: What about after that?
You knew where she lived. You ever come back?
BORDERS: No. I wasn't interested.
Problem we need to work out here.
(chuckles) Problem is I didn't do anything.
Your fingerprints are on the front door
of her apartment, pal.
(laughs) Bullshit.
You-you put 'em there, then, didn't you?
You assholes are unbelievable.
BOSCH: Danielle Skyler told two of her friends about you trying
to break down her door after she rejected you that night.
BORDERS: This-this is-- this is bullshit!
BOSCH: In the hallway. In the building.
BORDERS: Those bitches are lining up against me.
BOSCH: Did you or did you not go to the door
the night of your date with Danielle Skyler?
Man, nobody rejects me. I rejected her.
Yes or no?
No, I did not.
(door opens)
-IRVING: Detective. -BOSCH: Lieutenant.
IRVING: Take a break.
BORDERS: You know, there's a real killer out there,
and you guys are pissing away precious time
trying to pin this on me.
You killed her.
IRVING: Bosch.
I'm done talking, man. Get me a lawyer.
IRVING: We'll bring you the yellow pages.
(door closes)
(mouse clicks)
(line ringing)
OSCAR PINETO: You got me, I'm not answering. Leave a message.
Cuz, it's me.
It's a shit show, man.
I'm so fucked, I don't know which way is up.
I'm coming to you.
45 days. The new policy.
Shit. Thought I had more time.
We delayed the release as long as we could.
HINES: Yeah, I've seen it.
No, you've seen a clip. This is everything.
From when the officer gets out of the car
until he leaves the scene.
Larger context help?
People are gonna see what they want to see.
There is no good version of someone getting killed.
So how am I supposed to seat a jury, much less try the case?
This exposes all of my potential witnesses
to evidence of officer conduct
before they can even be interviewed.
I thought you were all about police reform and transparency.
That's what I ran on, and I am.
How many officer-involved shootings have gone to trial
in the last two decades?
Please. A clickbait statistic
people trot out as if it proves something.
As if those cases were prosecutable,
but the facts covered up.
So you're saying they were all in policy?
Go back. Look for yourself.
If I don't file on these guys,
how can I argue that the status quo has changed?
It's not about you anymore, though, is it?
View's a lot different from the inside.
Thanks for your time, Chief.
Ms. Hines.
(door opens, closes)
Whoa.
I'm in the wrong house.
Do we have paprika?
Only if it walked in on its own.
You're really serious about this cooking thing.
Living off-campus, if I skip the food plan,
maybe I can save up enough for that semester in Paris.
Swiss enchiladas.
BOSCH: Yeah, that can't be right.
Mom's mom gave her the recipe, and we all know
Mom couldn't even boil an egg.
So, legacy. You're my first victim.
Mm. I'll confess to everything.
That looks complicated.
Stepping up my game.
BOSCH: Smells okay, though.
I pulled up the file for that-- that case I asked you about.
Danielle Skyler.
Summer help can access the archives?
Crafty ones can.
I watched an interview you did with the killer.
Preston Borders.
(sighs)
Caught him in a lie.
Said he was never at her apartment door,
but we had witnesses saw him there.
And his prints on the door.
No, I lied about the prints.
-Cops can do that? -Yeah.
He knew he'd never touched the knob.
Tried to get away with claiming
he'd never even been in the hallway.
He kept saying you set him up.
There are two kinds of truth, Mads.
Kind that comes from darkness, gets bent and manipulated
for someone's self-interest,
and the kind you carry inside and know is real.
Okay.
Preston Borders is a sociopath.
Rape. Torture. Murder.
Necklace she was wearing when he strangled her
was found in his apartment; we got the right guy, 100%.
Then why is CIU reopening the case?
Eh, new D.A. wants to show she's a maverick.
Like I said, nothing to worry about.
Mmm. Tasty.
What it needs? Paprika.
-Mm, very funny. -(chuckles)
(warning bell clanging)
You guys pissed at me?
-No. -Hollywood was a clusterfuck.
I went to the original swap spot.
When you guys didn't show up, I freaked out.
I grabbed a new set of wheels, and then I...
Cleek...
let's go, huh?
Yeah.
Sure.
(pills rattling)
You came back, man.
That's all that matters. eels, and then I...