-CHANDLER: That him? -BOSCH: That's him.
Terry Spencer.
-How'd you find it? -Uh, Hector found it,
under her maiden name.
She's owned it for a long time.
Well before she married Cronyn.
-Shall we ring the bell? -I imagine he's been instructed
not to answer the door.
Mm-hmm.
(car alarm ringing, horn honking)
CHANDLER: Mr. Spencer.
Honey Chandler.
A word?
♪ ♪
♪ 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. ♪
I should call my attorney.
Kathy told me you might try something before the hearing.
Kathy Zelden? Mrs. Cronyn?
Why does a property room clerk need a lawyer at all?
I don't have to talk to you.
Look, we know about your debts,
how the Cronyns used your financial predicament
to leverage you.
How Olmer's DNA got on that handkerchief,
how you switched it with the original.
I would never do anything like that.
Hey. Your signature is on the seal.
Ask yourself: who has the most exposure
when we blow this up at the hearing?
CHANDLER: Not the Cronyns.
The Cronyns represent Borders, not you.
BOSCH: They played you for a patsy, pal.
We don't want you, Terry. We want Cronyn.
And we want to keep a serial killer
locked up inside his cage.
They preyed on your desperation,
now they're counting on your silence.
Help us, we'll help you.
(engine starts)
Why'd you kill the pharmacist?
That was Stones.
We have video.
I can play it for you if you want.
That dude was already dead. I just shot him to play along.
Why'd Stones kill him?
Send a message.
Which was?
Don't rat.
Hmm.
Who gave the order?
(laughs softly)
Walsh.
And where's Walsh?
Who knows?
I thought you might.
We'll come back to that.
Who killed Charles Fagan?
Who?
The guy you carjacked after the pharmacy hit.
Stones.
Stones is dead.
R.I.P., motherfucker.
Who killed Oscar Piñeto?
I don't know who that is.
This is your idea of a full cooperation?
(whispers indistinctly)
(sighs)
I know where there's another body.
(indistinct radio transmission)
PIERCE: What do you got?
-That. -Somebody call it in?
MORGAN: Anonymous tip.
VEGA: Why us and not the bomb squad?
It's oozing blood.
And it smells bad.
-(exhales) -Ugh.
-Adult? -Looks like.
-VEGA: One person? -PIERCE: Hope it's not a mix and match.
-Male or female? -Kind of burly...
Shaved legs. Toenail polish.
Not dispositive.
I don't know. Without the pelvic girdle...
-You're there tomorrow, right? -Not if I have to wear a tie.
-You even own a tie? -Trashed 'em all when I retired.
Just not a Hawaiian shirt.
Clean T and sport coat?
Jesus. Read my memo?
Glanced at it.
Comments by end of day.
Counting your chickens?
Playing the odds, brother, playing the odds.
With house money.
Am I whining?
No, not at all.
I'm just having a really hard time with this.
Uh, it's understandable.
It's been a year.
-More. -Well, it's not that long.
Plus, I'm sure you're stressed about your dad's hearing.
Not really. Why?
I don't know. I would be.
Not so much.
You going?
Of course. You?
Yeah. I have to.
-You started to say... -Her birthday's coming up.
Anniversary Effect?
Maybe that's it.
Look, you should take the day off.
Just to think about your mom.
Just celebrate her.
You ever been to Catalina?
No.
It's better than the grunion run.
(Galligan chuckles)
Nothing's better than the grunion run.
BILLETS: Don.
Hey, Grace. This thing takes forever.
-Yeah, but so worth it, right? -Right.
-Look, I wanted to ask you... -What?
Any interest in reviewing the quarterly stats?
Why?
I think they're a little rosy.
-In some areas. -Like?
Burglaries, assaults, robberies, BFMVs.
-All down. -Are they really?
Or are we just bumping marginal felonies to misdemeanors?
I trust our people, don't you?
Yeah-- but if they were feeling pressure from above...
Not from me they're not.
-...to shade their reporting... -Now, look.
I'm comfortable with the numbers, Grace.
Mm.
-Just thought I'd ask. -Mm-hmm.
Oh...
Gack. God, pure gack.
Might as well just drink straight stomach acid.
Cut out the middleman.
♪ ♪
Hey.
-Oh, hey. -Got something for me?
Left it on your desk.
Ah, thanks.
Anything interesting?
Eh, just budget stuff.
See you later.
Yeah. Hope so.
(vacuum cleaner whirring)
Bo Jonas.
(turns off vacuum)
Gary said these detectives wanted to talk to me,
so I went.
What happened?
They didn't show.
They said you didn't show.
-You and Gary. -No, man.
We're waiting, they're late.
I'm getting a bad feeling in my gut.
Then these two Jakes roll up.
-Jamaicans? -Mm-hmm. Gangsters.
It was a trap, and I ran, man.
Gary didn't.
You knew them? The Jamaicans?
Recognized them. Sold me a gun.
You still got it?
Gave it to Gary to hold.
Felt like a trap how?
Like they knew we was gonna be there.
Ah, they, they was gunning for us, no doubt.
These Jamaicans, could you identify them?
Could.
But you won't.
Nope.
(clears throat)
(chuckles)
-Detective Moore. -Sergeant Mankiewicz.
What can I do for you?
You can save the date.
Huh.
He's finally gonna pull the pin.
Mm-hmm.
It's the end of an era.
I wouldn't miss it.
You know, we're asking everyone to, uh, kick in.
Oh. Enough said.
-Double sawbuck, if you got it. -I'll do better than that.
Oops. Ha. Just saw a moth fly out.
I meant to hit the ATM on the way in.
Sorry. Circle back?
Making a mental note.
That's the best kind.
Twice in one day.
Would you like something?
Oh, a coffee, black.
What's up?
Tell me about you and Christina Henry. Your side.
What's her beef?
Think she had something to do with the Times article?
Well, I certainly think she has it in for you.
I'd like to know the full story.
We were involved. Didn't last.
Hard feelings?
For a while. That passed.
Least I thought it did.
She came up for a promotion, asked me to put in a good word.
It didn't come through, she blamed me.
More than that, said I didn't support her,
bad-mouthed her, ruined her career.
-Did you? -Ruin her career?
Put in a good word.
Kept my mouth shut.
Asked my opinion about Detective Henry's work,
I recused myself for obvious reasons.
Hmm.
I told you personal could be useful.
I got a text this morning from someone
in the D.A.'s office. A memo from Henry...
A leaked memo.
Urging the D.A. to open an investigation
after the hearing into police misconduct,
yours in particular.
Who's your source?
Ah, you know I can't tell you that.
Trustworthy?
Impeccable.
Juan, ¿cómo está?
Captain?
Lieutenant. Come in.
HINES (on monitor): Given those realities,
I've concluded that it's fruitless to pursue
a criminal prosecution in this matter.
This office will not file charges
against Officer Eugene Robson
in the death of Miguel Vasquez.
We expect LAPD to conduct a thorough investigation
into Officer Robson's conduct
before, during, and after the incident.
No comment yet from LAPD
on the district attorney's announcement.
(sighs)
So the bear says,
"You don't really come here to hunt, do you?"
(laughter)
That's a classic, sir.
You know who tells the best version? Barrel.
-Yeah. (chuckles) -He can go on for half an hour.
Oh, yeah, he's the master.
What's this I hear about a retirement party?
Well, my understanding, an intimate gathering,
-detectives only. -Of course.
Still, shouldn't we get him a gift?
-Acknowledge his stellar career. -No, that's a thought.
-Don? -Well, it's a nice gesture.
Uh, happy to chip in.
Keep me apprised.
-I will, sir. -So...
on the same page?
You know I'm a team player.
Didn't doubt it for a minute.
Captain.
Crispy in the morgue?
Hart says he's the driver.
We pulled a print from one of their rides.
A career car thief named Brandon Cleek.
Who shot him?
Hart says Stones.
Yeah, he would. Believe him?
Think they both did it.
We recover any usable forensics, we'll let you know.
-Gracias. -De nada.
Boricua?
Cubano. ¿Y tú?
D.R., mi hermano.
-¿Qué lo qué? -(chuckles)
Hey. How's she doing?
What?
She's gone, brother.
Gone?
Poor choice of words. She split.
Walked out of here sometime this afternoon.
Shit.
Okay. Thanks, brother.
Fuck.
(dance music playing inside faintly)
(dance music playing loudly)
♪ ♪
Ki sa?
Fuck.
-(phones ringing) -(quiet chatter)
-Morning. -VEGA: Think I got something.
From a camera across the street.
PIERCE: Okay, so...
He's headed east.
The dumpster's just around the next corner.
The office on the corner has a camera in the alley.
PIERCE: Nothing closer?
Nope.
-Can't see the driver. -No, but wait.
Can't see anything. Can't tell what he's doing.
I mean, what is he doing in that alley at that hour?
Taking a piss maybe?
I think he's putting that suitcase in that dumpster.
Ran the plate; stolen a week ago.
You wouldn't want to drive very far
on a phony plate with a suitcase full of severed limbs.
First available dumpster.
Killed and cut up him-- or her-- somewhere nearby.
-We know yet? -Waiting on the lab.
So, inside somewhere, not in his van.
Vacant building. Construction site.
West and south of Sunset and, say, Gower.
Google Street View.
(chains rattling)
Ms. Rousseau.
Is it true? Did you frame him?
No, it's not true.
I don't know whether to believe you or not.
Thank you for coming.
(footsteps approaching)
MADDIE: Dad.
-I'm sorry to keep you waiting. -Don't worry about it.
-You ready? -Yeah. Go on in, grab a seat.
Maddie.
All right, this may all come down to you.
Be sharp, be forthright.
These people are fucking with everything
-that's important to you. -Ain't it the truth.
Here they come.
Come on, Spencer, where are you?
Think he'll show?
I hope so. I sent Hector to fetch him.
What's Plan B?
You.
Okay, let's go in and do this.
Hopefully he'll be here.
Thank you, Mama.
Thank you, cheri.
(door buzzes)
Help you?
-Mama Roux? -Yes?
You don't remember me?
-(chuckles softly) -Jérome.
I haven't seen you in so, so long. (sighs)
-My mother's funeral. -Ah. Koman ou ye?
Mwen byen.
-Still a policeman? (chuckles) -I am.
That's what brings you here? I'm in trouble with the law?
-(both laugh) -Not at all.
I wanted to ask you about somebody, if you know him.
Who?
Jacques Avril.
(handcuffs jangling)
-(quietly): Nothing yet. -Nothing.
(door opens)
California versus Borders,
a habeas matter and motion to vacate.
We also have a motion to be heard
filed by Ms. Chandler, who I see in the courtroom.
Why don't you come up, Ms. Chandler?
Your Honor, this motion has no merit.
It's a publicity stunt at the expense of my client.
Ms. Chandler, I assume you have a response to that.
I do, Your Honor. For the record, Honey Chandler,
representing Detective Hieronymus Bosch.
My client has become aware of the petition
filed by Mr. Cronyn and supported by the D.A.'s office
alleging that Detective Bosch falsified material evidence
used to convict Mr. Borders.
Somehow, these unfounded allegations have made their way
into the L.A. Times,
-damaging his reputation. -Ms. Chandler,
we don't have all day; make your argument.
CHANDLER: Of course, Your Honor.
My client denies the allegations.
I have filed a motion for leave to intervene
so that he may answer them.
Ms. Chandler, both Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Cronyn object
to your client's standing in the matter.
Your Honor, these allegations implicate
my client's property rights and reputation and good name.
I believe he has standing to intervene
and defend those rights.
Your Honor, the people can't be held responsible
for an article in a newspaper
that my office had nothing to do with.
Mr. Kennedy, Detective Bosch's property rights
and his good name and reputation is an interest
that he's entitled to protect.
I therefore grant the motion for leave to intervene.
Ms. Chandler, you can call your first witness.
KENNEDY: Your Honor, this is unfair.
We're not prepared for new witnesses.
The people request that we carry this over 30 days
in order to seek depositions
and properly prepare for a new hearing.
Your Honor, I second that request.
Court calendars being what they are,
putting this off for 30 days might as well be 90.
Mr. Borders, are you willing to go back to San Quentin
for another three months?
Um... yeah, I-I don't suppose a little more time matters
if it means they get it right.
That's exactly what the court is trying to do here,
-get it right. -(door opens)
Your Honor, my client is the injured party here.
His reputation has been damaged,
and delaying this 90 days will permanently destroy it.
We object to any delay,
and would like to offer a solution.
Go ahead, Ms. Chandler.
Clear the court, and have the lawyers and principals
continue in camera.
I will give verbal proffers for each witness I intend to call
and each document and video I plan to introduce.
Very well.
I'm gonna ask that members of the media
and all other observers leave for 15 minutes
so that we can hear your proffers.
Thank you, Your Honor.
(indistinct chatter)
-Keep an eye on them. -Mm-hmm.
Condos and a multiplex, I think.
Owners are still trying to decide.
Problems with squatters, homeless?
MANAGER: When it rains.
VEGA: Smells like it.
What was it before it wasn't?
Shops on the ground floor, apartments upstairs.
PIERCE: How long has it been boarded up?
Six years. I got to warn you,
these apartments can get pretty nasty.
We've seen nasty.
Yes, I'm sure you have.
Ugh. Oh, dear.
I wonder what, uh...
(groans): Ugh!
(flies buzzing)
♪ ♪
You need to see this.
(flies buzzing)
Ms. Chandler, why don't you walk us through
what you plan to do with your witnesses and documents
if your motion is granted.
Thank you, Your Honor.
The district attorney's Conviction Integrity Unit
took on this case based on a deathbed confession
brought to their attention by Mr. Cronyn.
A forensic review of the evidence found DNA
from a now-deceased serial rapist
named Lucas John Olmer.
Ms. Chandler, any intervention requires something new,
a change of direction.
Don't tell the court what it already knows.
What's new is this, Your Honor.
Detective Bosch can show how Lucas John Olmer's DNA
was planted as part of an elaborate scheme
to defraud the D.A.'s office, frame my client for tampering,
set Preston Borders free,
and collect a multimillion-dollar settlement
for false conviction and imprisonment
from the city of Los Angeles.
A scheme by whom, Ms. Chandler?
The convicted killer, Preston Borders, in cahoots
with the law firm of Cronyn and Cronyn.
I strenuously object, Your Honor.
SOBEL: Noted, Mr. Cronyn.
You're making a very serious allegation, Ms. Chandler.
You need to put up or shut up.
I'll be putting up, Your Honor.
I have a sworn statement from a corrections officer
who witnessed Olmer's deathbed confession
and saw Mr. Cronyn use an identical handkerchief
to wipe the dying man's hands, thus procuring his DNA.
We will then show how he arranged
to have that handkerchief switched for the original
and placed in the case evidence box in LAPD Property Control.
Your Honor, Mr. Cronyn could not have come near that material.
Chain-of-evidence protocol requires a secure
lab-to-lab transfer.
Detective Bosch will testify to how he thinks
this scheme was carried out.
We have Property Room video to corroborate his theory.
In addition, I would like to call Christina Henry,
of the CIU, and your court reporter, Rita Tedesco.
Please elaborate as to why.
Ms. Henry to testify to her personal history
of intimacy and animus with Detective Bosch.
I will offer a recent draft memo which clearly indicates
her bias toward my client.
Your Honor, I would like to know the provenance
of this purported memo and how counsel acquired it.
SOBEL: You'll get your turn, Mr. Kennedy.
And Ms. Tedesco?
To testify to her matrimonial status,
which she has kept secret from this court
in furtherance of the conspiracy
between the Cronyns and Mr. Borders.
And what is that status?
She is married to Mr. Borders.
Rita, is this true?
Yes, Your Honor.
For how long?
Uh... uh, for 16 years.
We'll sidebar.
Continue, Ms. Chandler.
Well, finally, Your Honor, I will provide evidence
from Terrence Spencer, the Property Room clerk,
who became enmeshed with the Cronyns,
and how they persuaded him to aid them in their conspiracy.
Do you have an affidavit from Mr. Spencer, Ms. Chandler?
Your Honor, I have Terrence Spencer himself
here to testify.
What the fuck?
Control your client, Mr. Cronyn.
-Yes, Your Honor. -(Borders mutters)
SOBEL: Please continue, Ms. Chandler.
CHANDLER: He's been sequestered at a home owned by Mrs. Cronyn.
He's here now, and he's ready to take the stand
and explain his role in this conspiracy.
You fucking moron!
You said this would work.
-Shut up. -Asshole.
I'm telling 'em everything.
I'm telling 'em your whole fucking fucked-up plan.
Your Honor, at this time, the people wish
to withdraw their motions in this matter.
We now oppose the habeas petition.
SOBEL: I'm sure you do.
But you can take your seat for the moment.
Mr. Borders,
your petition for habeas corpus is no longer uncontested.
Is it your desire now to withdraw it?
Yeah, might as well.
'Cause it ain't fucking going nowhere.
The matter before the court is withdrawn.
Deputies, you can take Mr. Borders back to jail.
Thanks for the road trip, Cronyn.
Beats three days in a cage.
Sorry, babe.
-Do what you got to do. -I won't leave you, Pres.
I promise.
Yeah, well, we know how that goes.
-I won't hold you to it. -Pres...
Fuck you all very much.
And fuck you, Bosch!
You planted that fucking pendant!
I know you did. You stole it from my backpack!
Get the fuck off me.
Your Honor, if I may, I need to get on the record
how my client threatened me and my wife.
Enough, Mr. Cronyn.
You, your cocounsel and your client
came into this courtroom with the clear intent
of manipulating the court for financial gain,
gaining the release of a rightfully convicted murderer,
and tarnishing the reputation of a veteran detective.
-Your Honor... -I find
Lance Cronyn and Katherine Zelden Cronyn
in criminal contempt of the court,
and order them taken into custody forthwith.
-Y-You can't do that. -Oh, yes, I can.
-(handcuffs clicking) -Now, Mr. Kennedy.
-Yes, Your Honor? -Your office
owes Detective Bosch a big, fat, public apology.
Nothing short of full exoneration of the allegations
published in the L.A. Times will suffice.
Do I make myself clear, Mr. Kennedy?
Yes, Your Honor.
We would be doing that even if you had not ordered it.
Knowing what I know about politics and the justice system,
I find that highly unlikely.
Detective Bosch.
Yes, Your Honor?
I would like to apologize on behalf of the court.
I wish you the best of luck, sir.
And you're welcome in my courtroom anytime.
Thank you, Your Honor.
Give you a lift?
I got to grab my stuff.
I'll wait. Meet you downstairs?
Okay.
Congratulations.
Thanks.
-Love you. -You, too.
Whew.
-"Cahoots." -(chuckles)
My Clarence Darrow moment.
Too folksy?
-Borderline. -(chuckles)
You didn't even need me.
I would have if we'd gone back to open court.
Spencer's lawyer just told me
he was only here to take the Fifth.
Holy shit.
Holy shit indeed.
We should celebrate. Dinner sometime soon?
I'd like that. I'm buying.
Then I'm choosing where.
Thank you.
I'll call you.
You must be feeling good.
(exhales) I am.
I know what you did.
What?
Read the memo that was on my desk.
Tom...
Then you sent it to your father's lawyer.
What are you gonna do about it?
I don't know yet.
Thanks for not lying to me, at least.
(sighs)
(elevator bell dings)
-HENRY: Here to rub it in? -No, here to collect my kid.
You did it.
-I know you did it. -Look.
You took your best shot, you came up short.
-Move on. -I'm not done with this.
-I heard what Borders said. -Then you heard him confess.
By the way, you give bullshit a bad name.
-I didn't stunt your career. -The fuck you didn't.
You weren't good enough.
The department didn't need me to tell them that.
You campaigned against me, you bastard.
Come on, Christina. He's not worth it.
I'm watching you, Bosch.
-Yeah, yeah, yeah. -(elevator bell dings)
(elevator doors close)
Sorry you had to see that.
What's her problem?
Guess she just felt like she had to piss on my parade.
Know the feeling.
What?
Let's just go home.
-Where's Ida? -Oh, I let her go early.
-You ready? -Just about.
When exactly do you think you're gonna have time for those?
After dinner.
I don't think so.
Well, then.
Jen Kowski called me today.
What'd she say?
Just taking my temperature.
What'd you tell her?
I told her I'm seriously considering it.
-Seriously? -Seriously.
Mr. Mayor.
(dog collar jangles)
(panting, whining)
(chuckles): Hey.
-Thanks. -As requested.
Appreciate it.
-Come here. -What's his name?
I don't know yet.
-Maybe I'll call him Hovan. -(laughs)
You want a beer, man?
Still on the clock.
I hear congratulations are in order.
I dodged a bullet.
Any word on Walsh?
We think he's left the country.
Mexico.
Thought he was persona non grata south of the border.
Linked up with the Zetas. Fentanyl.
Yeah, always another cartel. And another drug.
Hold back the night.
Somebody's got to.
Hey.
-Thanks again. -My pleasure.
-Adios. -Adios.
(whispers): Hey.
(brakes squeal softly)
(musical chiming)
(door unlocks)
Mr. Avril, Detective Edgar.
LAPD.
I know who you are.
There are not so many of us.
I saw you at the Little Jewel the other day, did I not?
You were leaving as I was coming in.
We have mutual friends.
Marcos and Arias.
You should have joined us, last night at the club.
My people saw you there.
I didn't want to intrude.
Next time.
Would you like to come in?
-Another time. -Ah.
I look forward to getting to know you.
-One question. -Yes?
-Are you who I think you are? -And who is that?
Jacques Avril, secret police.
The Butcher of Pétion-Ville...
who murdered my mother's brother.
What was his name? Your uncle.
Antoine Hector.
Hmm.
Wasn't me.
That was my father.
(lock clicks)
Oh, an hour. Less.
Hmm. We'll order.
No, you choose. I don't care.
Yeah, be home soon. See you then.
(sniffles)
(clears throat)
Buy you a drink?
I already have one.
-Martini, please. -Gin preference?
Uh, Hendrick's.
Paying for her, too?
You're kidding.
(chuckles) Sure.
I needed to look him in the eye.
-Can't you arrest him? -For what?
He hasn't done anything here.
-How long's he been here? -Since 2010.
-Since the earthquake. -(refrigerator opens)
Doing well. Really well.
Living openly under his own name.
It's freaking people out.
(bottle opens)
I mean, he has so much blood on his hands.
(exhales)
What did Gary have to do with these people?
-Why'd they kill my son? -I don't know yet.
If you could get Jonas to I.D. the Jamaicans,
you could squeeze them.
Maybe they'd give up Marcos and Arias.
But he won't. He doesn't trust us.
This is bad, Jerry.
Dirty cops.
-Be careful. -I know it.
I could help you.
Hey.
He looks like he's adjusting.
Yeah.
He's a good boy.
Had to keep him away from the raccoons, though.
He's kind of scrappy.
-What are you gonna call him? -I don't know.
Maybe Scrappy.
-Very creative. -Pooch.
Cochise.
I don't know. Biscuit?
Biscuit?
Help me out here.
I'll sleep on it.
Listen.
I wanted to tell you.
I'm going back to school early.
Like, tomorrow.
Why?
Need to get ready for the fall semester.
You give notice?
-I just sent the email. -So early?
Come on, talk to me.
What's going on?
-Boyfriend trouble? -No.
'Cause I noticed a little tension there.
It's not him.
It's you.
Me?
What'd I do?
Nothing.
You're just you.
And I need some time away from you.
Sound like your mother.
I'm sure I do.
Still pissed about the undercover caper.
Can we talk about this later?
I'm beat.
At least stay until her birthday.
Catalina?
Maybe next year.
(dog grunts softly)
(phone ringing)
-Chief. -Bad time?
Long day.
Well, I just wanted to say congratulations.
Thanks.
I trust this puts this matter to rest.
Not quite.
I'm sorry?
Loose end I need to tie up.
Have a good evening.
♪ ♪ ood evening.