Original subtitles

TEDESCO: He said he knew you.

Fucking Bosch. He's behind this.

Guy wasn't a cop. The man reeked

of prison, baby. I know the difference.

What'd he look like?

Biker. Big. Long hair, beard.

How could he know what we're doing?

You fucked up talking to him.

Yeah, I-I just got flustered. Hey,

I'm sorry.

Why don't you get some of your friends to sit closer, hmm?

Block the view.

I want to get freaky.

Jesus, you're twisted, Rita.

Yeah, just the way you like it.

Hmm? Come on.

(sighs) Let me make it up to you, baby.

Hey. Bosch says he's got you on tape.

What could he have?

Boring phone calls between me and your lawyer.

I've been really careful there, I swear.

We need to know who that biker asshole is.

Yeah, tell me what to do.

Cronyn. Talk to Cronyn.

He wants his third, he's got to fucking fix this.

Okay.

In person. No more phones.

Do you want subtitles for any video? -=[ ai.OpenSubtitles.com ]=-

Yeah, she was there for an hour or so, all told.

-Just getting to work now. -Terry Spencer.

BONNER: Civilian,

working for LAPD, no criminal record.

Couldn't work Property if he did.

BONNER: Followed him home last night.

Studio City, the flats. Standard suburban crib.

Bought it in, uh, 2001.

Mortgage, 800K.

Little high for that neighborhood.

BONNER: So they refied twice before the crash.

Second marriage. Still paying alimony on the first.

Dude's so deep in debt, he's fucking breathing dirt.

-Current wife? -BONNER: Teacher.

Yeah, she's not footing any bills.

So how did Cronyn find Spencer?

That face is plastered all over bus benches and billboards.

Maybe Spencer found him.

CHANDLER: I know you're

the walking definition of old school, but really?

Not mine.

Belongs to a vet named Reilly.

(line ringing)

RECEPTIONIST (over phone): Cronyn & Cronyn.

Yes, I'd like to speak to Lance Cronyn, please.

RECEPTIONIST: May I ask who's calling?

Terry Spencer. Tell him it's urgent.

RECEPTIONIST: One moment.

Here goes nothing.

CRONYN: Mr. Spencer? I wasn't expecting to hear from you.

I'm not your point person. Hello?

Mr. Spencer? Hello?

So who's Spencer's contact? Rita?

Not sure.

Stay on her, Bonner.

Yeah, I'm on it.

Where'd you find him?

Hector was a pro bono appeal years ago

when I was a single-shingle lawyer.

Wrongly convicted of manslaughter.

Witness recanted, I won the appeal,

Hector was released, he's been with me ever since.

He's... devoted to me.

What do your fancy white shoe partners make of him?

(chuckles) They wish he wouldn't sit

in the waiting room so often.

Too bad. He goes where I go.

And he's good at what he does, like you.

You're comparing me and Bonner.

In fact, when you're done chasing bad guys, Bosch,

I could use a guy like you.

You're offering me a job?

I think you and Hector would make a great team.

Helping the scumbags skate? It's not my style, but thanks.

I'd rather drink muddy water, as the old song goes.

Everyone deserves their day in court.

Borders had his.

Old school.

Fucking A.

♪ ♪

♪ I got a feeling that I can't let go ♪

♪ I got a feeling that I can't let go ♪

♪ I got a feeling that I can't let go ♪

♪ I got a feeling that I can't let go ♪

♪ I got a feeling that I 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 ♪

♪ Like me. ♪

It's been big fun, Tina,

but I got to be at Valley by 9:00.

Hey, I got tickets to the Bowl this Friday.

O'Jays. Want to get on board that "Love Train" with me?

I know you're a huge fan.

Love you like a brother, Bob, you know that.

What's so fascinating?

Interviews with the Skyler family.

First one, right after the murder,

"Sister tells the cops Danielle's pendant's missing."

Follow-up questions are all about the pendant.

How often did she wear it?

Any recent pictures of her wearing it?

Was she wearing it that night?

What's so important about the pendant, remind me?

The only physical evidence

that directly links Borders to the victim.

Okay. So?

So I know Bosch planted it in Borders' apartment.

Olmer's DNA at the crime scene proves that.

Proves somebody did.

I mean, dozens of coppers in and out of Borders' apartment.

You sound just like my partner.

Who did the interviews? Bosch?

Detective R. Rodgers.

My honest opinion?

-Always. -Irregardless of what went down

between you and Bosch, he should've had your back.

No question.

Thank you.

Yeah, that was wrong.

And if it made the difference to your career down the line...

-It did. -Well, that's a shame.

And that's on him, too.

But the DNA proves the department was wrong on Borders.

What more payback do you want?

A lot more.

(phone buzzes)

Okay, Jerry, we're on.

Tomorrow afternoon, 1:00. Pain Clinic.

-We're gonna need a team. -We'll talk to Billets.

Hey.

Hey.

Uh, tell me what this looks like.

It looks wrong.

Right? Poked around in the Category Twos

and found this one as well.

Hmm.

You're still a detective.

Yes, I am.

Tip of the iceberg?

I'm thinking it is.

Filed as "brandishing,"

but the vic said the man pointed the gun directly at her.

Most would call that "assault with a deadly weapon."

I would. Now this one,

same thing, last month.

Somebody's juking the stats.

(sighs) I'll look into it.

A lesser detective might've missed the pattern.

Good thing we were on the ball.

Yeah, don't push it.

Who says we're wasted in CAPs?

Not I, kemosabe.

(indistinct radio transmission)

Need us to hang around?

Los Angeles Police Department

appreciates your diligence and your dedication.

(chuckles) Did nothing but shoo away homeless folks all night.

Then go home and get some sleep.

-Yo. -Thanks, boss.

All right, guys, let's check this area around the car first,

then get it towed to FSD.

Spotless.

No such thing.

-Hey. -Any news?

Reverend Crosley and Darius Natrell alibis check out.

No one's talking to us about Bo Jonas.

-Door knocks? -Mm.

No one's talking to us.

-Some things never change. -Hm.

Something curious came up when we searched

-Gary Wise's apartment. -Oh?

We found a Smith & Wesson nine mil.

So? Not so uncommon. It's...

Confiscated in a drug bust. West Bureau, 2013.

It was on the list to be melted down.

Fuck. How'd it get back on the streets?

Mm, good question.

-Stuff goes missing. -Yes it does.

They raided Rolling Sixties last year,

came up with a dozen pistolas that were on that list.

-That's got to be an inside job. -No shit.

-I'm gonna take a walk. -All right.

Miss Johnson?

Jerry Edgar.

We used to buy your mother's holiday bread.

My mother? (chuckles)

That was a long time ago, and you don't look old enough

-to remember that. -I remember that bread.

Delicious.

Yes, it was.

Wish I still had the recipe.

You're police?

That's right.

-You're here about the shooting? -Yes, ma'am.

I didn't see it.

You don't have to see to know.

I didn't know him, the young man.

His name was Gary Wise.

I heard the gunshot.

Saw a man run by, scared to death,

like he was running for his life.

Black? Latino?

Black.

About your age.

Yeah...

If I show you some pictures,

would you be able to pick him out?

I might.

♪ ♪

(camera shutter clicks)

Vice can spare a body.

Rene Davila. Will she do?

As long as they stay put.

They travel, we're in trouble.

We will take what we can get.

-Yeah. -(phone ringing)

Shit.

Excuse me. Bosch.

Just sent you some pics. Tedesco and a friend.

Yeah, I recognize the friend from the courthouse with Cronyn.

Called her Kathy.

I'll tail her back to her car, get some plates,

see where she goes.

Got it. Thanks.

J. I'm out.

(sighs)

I'll take point, put Davila on the perimeter.

We've got a signal if Harry needs us to back off.

What's the signal?

"Hold Fast."

(quiet, indistinct chatter)

(chokes) Robertson.

Robertson... (whimpers)

I can't... I can't...

ROBERTSON: Shut it down.

Everyone out of here! Get her outside!

(coughing)

13-W-10, I'm code 6, officer needs help.

Unidentified airborne toxic exposure.

I need a hazmat team and an R-A.

McCURDY: Officer Edgewood's hunch was correct.

Officer Robson had at least one, possibly two prior interactions

with Miguel Vasquez.

(whooping)

Police!

Drop what's in your hand, kick it away and turn around.

-Come on, ese... -Show me your hands.

We have complaints of some knucklehead

shooting a pistol in the air.

ROBSON: That's you, right? The knucklehead in question?

-No guns. Fireworks. -Fireworks are illegal in L.A.

-You know what? I know you. -I don't think so.

VASQUEZ: Yeah, you hassled me on Cinco de Mayo.

ROBSON: Let me see some ID, ese.

-Chinga tú madre! -ROBSON: What?

-Hey, back up! Back up! -Get back now!

Why the gap?

Could be intentional, could be equipment malfunction.

Can we confirm the Cinco de Mayo encounter?

Predates body cams.

We're trying to track down his partner.

When you locate him, let me know.

Before you talk to him.

Yes, sir. Understood.

Thank you, Captain.

(sighs)

(phone buzzing)

Her plates are registered to a holding corp.

4248 LLC slash K.

Zelden's the name on the lease.

K as in Kathy.

Yeah. Five minutes out.

See you then.

Hold the elevator, please.

(elevator dings)

Can I help you, sir?

Yeah, I sure hope so.

-How you doing? -Good, good.

She is this close to a meltdown.

She thinks Borders will blame her if it all goes bad.

The woman's a wackjob.

She needs to get a grip. It won't go bad.

-If they have Rita on tape... -They don't.

It's a bluff.

She's already anxious about him getting out.

How it's gonna change everything.

Then tell her to take a deep breath

and think about the money.

I'll talk to Borders.

And let's put Spencer on ice.

Until after the hearing.

Sorry.

Security guard wouldn't shut up.

No worries.

Give me the bullet points, I'm on the clock.

Zelden is Cronyn's wife.

Mistress before that.

She's also a real estate lawyer.

Found him that building.

And here she comes.

You got somewhere to be, go. I won't lose her.

Music to my ears, brother. Thanks.

(engine starts)

(phone ringing in distance)

(envelope rustles)

♪ ♪

IRVING: All right, anything you can find that connects

Preston Borders to Danielle Skyler.

All right, everyone stay here until

I get the Before and Afters done.

♪ ♪

Thanks.

Hey, what's the deal?

What do you mean?

It's collecting dust since 2008, then boom,

three hits the last 24 hours.

Me and who else?

Um...

...Lieutenant Robert Torres and Christina Henry,

CIU, this morning;

Sergeant Delmore Washington, PAB, yesterday.

So, new developments?

Just putting it to rest.

Thanks.

-I didn't call Mr. Cronyn. -You sure?

Well, maybe it was a butt dial, but w-why would I call him?

I know the drill.

-Somebody used your name. -Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

-Who? -We don't know.

W-Why would somebody use my name?

Maybe you should lay low until after the hearing.

You got some sick leave coming up?

A little, I guess.

We have a place, you should stay there for a few days.

-Just till after the hearing. -I...

Here's the address.

22 years.

City files are hardly sacrosanct.

Wash was in the files yesterday.

The district attorney advised me

to refresh my memory of the case.

CIU this morning.

Oh? Who?

Christina Henry.

Any idea why?

Looking to see if I fucked up.

How I might have fucked up.

So what's the missing photo? Can you tell?

A Polaroid from the Before Search file.

Borders' bedroom.

The dresser.

What's on your mind, Detective?

When Hollywood patrol grabbed up Borders

before there was enough to charge him...

I was there.

Servidone said you sorted it out,

kicked Borders loose.

As you said, it was premature.

He had a bag.

A backpack. Was it searched?

I couldn't say. Did you ask Officer Servidone?

Because if it was, anything found in it

would have been inadmissible.

Borders murdered Danielle Skyler.

And he's behind bars

because you found that pendant in his bedroom.

Right.

So he's wearing only a shirt-- no pants--

I ask him, "A little breezy, no?"

Listen, I... What's this?

Compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar.

Jimmy.

Gentleman and a scholar.

Hear, hear.

How soon do you need to get back?

I don't. When do you get off shift?

Why?

Eh, I thought maybe you'd want to go salsa dancing.

Where?

El Floridita.

Show you some steps.

I bet you could.

I know how to salsa dance.

Yeah, I thought you might.

I thought you were married.

(laughs)

Me? Nah.

That's what I tell strange women

-so I don't get hit on. -(laughs)

CRATE: So he said,

"Fresh air's good for the motility."

(laughs): Motility.

I had to look that up.

It comes from the Latin motus-- motion-- as in,

"It ain't the meat, it's the motion."

I'm pulling the pin.

-Excuse me? -L.T.'s right.

It's time.

I'm gonna take my 90 and go live on a beach.

Or a golf course.

(scoffs) You don't play.

I can learn.

Uh, alimony follows you into retirement, you know that?

(scoffs) To the gates of hell, probably.

(exhales)

Can I have your desk chair?

(laughs)

(sniffles)

(floor squeaks)

Thank you.

-You definitely smell undercover. -(laughs)

That's the idea. Sorry.

You ever done this before?

It's no big deal, Mads.

Just gonna grab up my bad guy and get out.

Just don't do anything stupid.

-You're all I have left. -I'm acutely aware of that.

Mom's birthday's coming up.

I know.

We should do something.

Absolutely. Any ideas?

Thought we could go to Catalina.

Great. Yeah.

Well, let's figure it out tonight.

She never did believe me about those flying fish.

(laughs softly)

Somebody wanted lower violent crime rates,

so they went out and got them.

It's a fairy tale.

Watch your six, L.T.

Nobody loves a stoolie-- excuse me-- whistleblower.

I have no desire to be either.

Don't want it to look like I had a hand in cooking the books.

Well, this falls on Captain Cooper, right?

Well, I was acting captain for part of it.

(sighs)

I want copies of everything.

You really think it's gonna come to that?

-What? -(quietly): Blowing the whistle.

Sweet Jesus, I hope not.

Cronyn got somebody in Property to plant

the handkerchief with Olmer's DNA?

Civilian named Terry Spencer.

-Can you prove it? -I'm working on it.

Don't worry. I'll limp from here.

(phone ringing)

Hey, Jimmy. I'm here with J. Edgar.

We found the Nissan Sentra in a warehouse

used by our two shooters.

But we had to shut down the search yesterday

-for a few hours. -What was the problem?

Fentanyl residue.

One of my detectives inhaled some.

-Knocked her ass over teakettle. -Jesus.

They were dealing fentanyl?

Eh, they were doing something with it.

It's cheap, fast, lethal

and a hundred times stronger than heroin.

Your detective's gonna be okay?

She will be.

Took two rounds of Narcan to bring her back.

-Shit. -They pulled a print from the Sentra.

Brandon Cleek, car thief.

On parole, Imperial Valley.

-Stay safe, brother. -You, too.

EDGAR: Fentanyl.

Maybe we should hit pause, call in the DEA.

Stick with the plan.

Thanks, Jackie. That's terrific.

Keep me posted.

Your hunch was correct.

Cousin Rosie's away, camping in the Cascades,

-house is all shut up. -But the utilities spiked?

Been in triple digits up there all week.

How could Junior not use the AC?

-Hmm. -BPD found his car two streets away.

So Junior's in Bakersfield.

When do we leave?

And where's his cousin Oscar?

Mm... Maybe he's up there, too.

He looked familiar, but so do half the mooks on the street.

An unarmed man lost his life.

We need to understand what happened.

(sighs)

Sir, I'm on the job ten years.

Some nights it feels like a war zone out there.

And that night was one of them.

A war zone.

Figure of speech.

I came up through the ranks.

I understand what the job is, how hard it is.

Sir, what I'm saying is,

I don't precisely remember every person I come in contact with.

He looked familiar.

That's all I can say.

Okay, so walk me through it.

You rolled up to the party...

Cautious.

We expect there's a gun. Multiple 911 calls.

-You were understandably on edge. -Yes, sir.

It was a volatile situation.

Crowded, chaotic.

A bottle thrown at us soon as we stepped out of the car.

-And when did you see Vasquez? -Right away.

He saw us first, started to run.

If Vazquez was innocent, then why'd he run?

Pointless to speculate.

I'm only interested in your state of mind, officer.

Feared for my life, sir.

Like I told FID.

In fear for my life.

An iced chai latte for Maddie.

I'm sorry, I forgot, Connor asked for extra foam.

-Uhp, not a problem. -Thank you.

My folks are having a party tomorrow night.

You should come.

You want me to meet your parents?

No, it's not like that.

There's gonna be lots of other people there, too, and...

Macchiato for Honey.

-Excuse me. -Sorry.

Maddie Bosch, right? Honey Chandler.

Yes. Hi, Ms. Chandler.

I'm sure your father's mentioned me.

Of course. Uh, this is my friend Tom.

Tom Galligan, clerking with CIU.

Hmm. Our worthy adversaries.

-Yeah. Heard a lot about you. -Well,

contrary to what some in the District Attorney's office say,

I'm not Mephistopheles's handmaiden.

-It's nice meeting you, Tom. -You, too.

He's cute.

Wow. Money Chandler.

That was awkward.

-And you met her before? -No.

-She knew you. -She knows my dad.

Yeah, of course she does. She sued him.

Right. Duh.

Tall flat white for Connor, extra foam.

Yes.

The party tomorrow. I'll go.

Cool.

(man exhales)

-You're late. -The bus was late.

Let's go.

Phones.

Your phone.

Let's go. Move it.

♪ ♪

Target heading southbound on Van Nuys.

I thought this wasn't a moving surveillance.

EDGAR (over radio): Bosch is in the van.

Copy. Southbound on Van Nuys.

Are you okay?

Louis was scared shitless you weren't gonna make it this time.

You OD'd? Where'd you get it?

Fuck you, Trey.

Well, what are you looking at?

You. Looking to OD?

Fuckin' dumbass.

No talking.

♪ ♪

CHANDLER: Foreclosure papers?

Spencer was underwater.

He hired a shifty attorney, dug him out of debt.

Investment pools. Oy.

Better off using a loan shark. Less vig.

Uh, he has to come up with a balloon payment

by the end of the year.

How big's the balloon?

-500K. -Yikes.

-He could sell the house. -No, he can't.

Investors won't let him. They want him to default.

So they can sell the house.

People need to read the fine print.

Who's this shifty attorney?

Kathy Zelden.

-Mrs. Lance Cronyn. -You got it.

She promises him a payday,

he agrees to plant Olmer's DNA.

They get Olmer to sign a confession.

Borders walks, sues the city.

Cronyn takes his cut.

A nifty piece of criminal engineering.

I'm set. I got visual on the van.

EDGAR: I have eyes on Bosch.

Problem?

-Get in the van. -What's going on?

I think we walked into something.

Cops?

Fuck if I know.

A car I've seen before.

Get in the van.

I know how to get rid of them.

-Give me your phone. -(scoffs)

Just give me your phone.

OPERATOR (over phone): 911, what's your emergency?

Yeah, I think a cop just got shot

outside of Hold Fast Pizza, near Victory and Van Nuys.

You better send some help quick.

DISPATCHER: Attention, all units. Shots fired.

Officer down outside of Hold Fast Pizza,

Victory and Van Nuys.

Edgar, you copy that?

We're blown. Pull out and respond.

EDGAR (on radio): Put out a code 4 when you arrive.

No evidence of a shooting.

And meet me back at the clinic.

Copy.

Fuckin' A. (scoffs)

Fucking cops.

I knew it.

How'd you know that would work?

A cop gets shot, they drop everything, come running.

Double dose for the old man tonight.

(sirens wailing in distance)

(quietly): Shit.

(sighs) Fuck.

You missed your turn.

You got somewhere you need to be, old man?

I could drop you off right here.

No, no. No.

Sorry. Never mind.

♪ ♪

Did you see anyone?

No, nothing.

Hang here. Call me if anyone shows up.

-Okay. -I think I know where they went.

BOSCH (on answering machine): This is Bosch. Leave a message.

-(beeps) -We know how they got to Spencer.

Call me back, I'll fill you in.

♪ ♪

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