Original subtitles

I was having an affair. Stan must have suspected.

He put a hidden camera in the living room.

What do they have on you?

A video the night he died,

and a text I sent last night.

How'd they get the text?

A wire tap. Is that legal?

We'll find out. Who'd you text?

My lover.

Did he text you back?

Yes.

We'll assume they have that, too.

Is he part of this?

Yes.

And the video... you've seen it?

Me walking through my living room

when I was supposedly being held hostage.

The demand photo was staged.

I just wanted a way out of my marriage, that's all.

- Stan wasn't supposed to die. - CHANDLER: You have

nanny cam video of a woman walking around her own home

in a bathrobe.

At the same time she claims she was

- bound and gagged. - My client had nothing to do

- with her husband's death. - BILLETS: Very least,

she's part of a criminal conspiracy

that culminated in his murder.

She didn't need to pull the trigger herself.

We want to know who did.

I'll call the D.A.

I think we can make a deal.

Thanks.

- Can I help you? - Agent Sylvia Reece, FBI.

I'm looking for Detective Bosch.

I'll tell him you're here.

You don't need to babysit me.

Oh, I'm not.

You sure I can't interest you in a, uh...

- No, thanks. - I don't blame you.

As a cup of joe goes, it's a tasteless but efficient

caffeine delivery system. Which is not nothing.

BOSCH: Reece.

Sorry to keep you waiting. Thanks, Mank.

Anytime.

What am I doing here?

Sovereigns didn't kill Kent.

- His wife and her lover did. - You charging her?

D.A.'s making the deal now.

You still think it's Brenner?

About to find out.

I want to be there.

Why I called. Tell anyone you're here?

Not yet. Why?

Leaks. Don't want to spook her sweetheart.

We don't leak.

Right. Sit tight. Right back.

Gentlemen.

She claims she didn't know anything about the murder

- until after the fact. - Of course she didn't.

- She'll give up her partner? - She will.

Full cooperation with your investigation.

- And in return? - Conspiracy to commit extortion. Two years.

Seriously, two years?

She's got a lot to trade. Her co-conspirator

is a federal agent.

So fucking what? Somebody died.

That's the deal, Detective.

- When you're ready. - CHANDLER: Be candid.

Nothing you say can be used against you

as long as you adhere to the parameters of the proffer.

About a year ago, I started having an affair

with Clifford Maxwell.

What the hell?

- I don't believe it. - 12 days ago,

he killed my husband, Stanley Kent, in self-defense.

How did the affair start?

He came to the house to brief Stanley

on new security protocols.

I had some follow-up questions.

Coffee turned into dinner, dinner into...

Where would you meet?

Hotels.

When it was clear that it was more than a fling,

I rented an apartment downtown.

When did you decide to kill your husband?

I didn't. I never decided

- anything of the sort. - My client

has been clear from the start that is not what happened.

Just trying to get her story straight, Counselor.

I wanted a divorce.

Stan refused to waive his rights to my patent.

I offered him half a million dollars to buy him out.

- A lot of money. - More than fair,

considering it was my invention.

But he refused.

Cliff came up with a plan

to force his hand.

I went along with it.

- BOSCH: What was Cliff's plan? - I needed Stan

to steal the cesium.

Why?

The morals clause.

It's a felony.

Voids the prenup, right?

He would lose rights to my patent either way.

Mine was the better deal. I thought he'd take it.

He stole the cesium under duress to protect you.

Any good lawyer could make that case.

Of course.

But Cliff was prepared to upload a social media package

linking Stan to the sovereigns.

My husband, the libertarian.

Who would a jury believe:

A sovereign sympathizer who stole enough radioactive

material to poison the entire city,

or the heroic FBI agent who brought him down?

It wasn't supposed to come to that, was it?

Stan was a smart man.

He stood to lose everything.

Sign the papers, return the cesium,

and nobody would be the wiser.

What went wrong?

Cliff went to the overlook to meet Stan.

Said Stan attacked him.

Tried to be a hero.

Cliff said he acted in self-defense.

BOSCH: So then to plan B: Blame it on the sovereigns.

Yes.

Expect us to believe any of this?

Believe what you want.

My client has just handed you the man who killed her husband.

I got to call Brenner.

And I've got to call Chief Irving.

Good story. Fits what we have.

Bet Maxwell has a different version.

Can't wait to hear his side.

She lied, her deal goes out the window,

- we take 'em both down. - Amen to that, brother.

He's my partner. I should be there when you bring him in.

He trusts me.

I can help.

Please.

♪ ♪

- ♪ I got a feeling that I 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 ♪

♪ I got a feeling that I can't let go♪-♪ Can't let go, can't let go ♪

♪ 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 ♪

♪ Can't let go ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Like me. ♪

BARREL: That was fast.

You got a way with that judge.

She told us to get results, and we did.

And we're up.

This is Maxwell's official feeb phone.

This is his back-alley burner.

Here we go.

Tell him you need to see him. It's urgent.

(LINE RINGING)

(LINE PICKS UP)

I need to see you.

I'll be waiting at the apartment. Please come.

Broadway Palace Apartments. 1017.

SIS is on site, SWAT is on standby.

We'll keep eyes on the apartment until he arrives.

If he arrives.

- (PHONE RINGS) - (PHONE MONITOR RINGING)

Take it.

- Cliff, what's up? - Uh, running late.

I got to check in with a CI.

- Anything going on? - REECE: Not a thing.

MAXWELL: Okay. See you later.

- Think we're burned? - I don't know.

The jurisdiction is clear.

It's no longer a domestic terrorist threat,

it's a homicide investigation.

Maxwell is my guy. He falls under my purview.

I'm giving you the courtesy of a heads-up.

Let us do our job.

- No sign of Maxwell at the Palace Apartments. - (MONITOR BEEPS)

Just got a ping on his burner.

He's on the 5 headed south.

- Making for Mexico? - His phone is, anyway.

All right, let's get an airship up. Get eyes on the car.

Pierce, Vega, coordinate with Orange County and San Diego.

We'll find a safe place to pull it over.

BILLETS: You know what, and...

- notify border patrol, just in case. - On it.

Let's go.

I think he's still in town.

I think the phone is a diversion to buy time.

She might've said something on the call, tipped him off.

Or he sniffed SIS, staked out the apartment.

Apartment's Broadway and Olympic.

He'd need a place with a view.

Across the street from the Ace Hotel.

P.I. tailed her there, one of their trysting spots.

REECE: I'm wrong,

- it's a 20 minute detour. - Nothing's 20 minutes anymore.

(TRAFFIC WHOOSHES PAST)

Hi.

- Hi. Welcome to the Ace Hotel. - Looking for this guest.

He checked in a couple hours ago.

- Uh... - (TYPING)

Terrace suite. Room 703.

- Still here? - Haven't seen him leave.

Thank you.

- Let me take the lead. - We wait for SWAT.

(PHONE RINGS)

Billets. Yeah?

BILLETS: Santa Ana police stopped Maxwell's car, wasn't him.

He's at the Ace Hotel downtown.

Thought you were on your way south.

I'll explain later.

Shit. I told her to stay put.

I'll stay here.

Roger that.

Cliff, it's me.

- (KNOCKING) - I just want to talk.

Cliff, I'm coming in.

- Reckless. - If it was Edgar in here,

would you have waited for SWAT?

Question answers itself.

Shit.

(GRUNTS)

♪ ♪

He's on foot, in the theater.

Coming in from the roof. Take the stage.

- (ELEVATOR BELL DINGS) - Got it.

Officers involved

in a foot pursuit of a possible 187 suspect

in the Ace Hotel Theater.

♪ ♪

We'll split up. Watch the crossfire.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Hey!

(SIRENS WAILING)

Nowhere to go, Cliff. Show me your hands.

All right. All right.

She'll be cleared.

It was a good shoot.

But her career will stall out.

She's poison.

Killed her partner.

Never live that down.

Go home.

I will.

BOSCH: So I spoke to Alex Sands.

Was Daisy working the streets?

I don't know.

I worried she was.

She ever tell you she was baptized

by a street preacher in Hollywood?

No.

He had a picture of her on his wall.

Was it him?

Task force lifted a partial print off of Daisy.

I ran the prints against the preacher's,

no match.

- Okay. - He got her to call home.

Said she was asking somebody to come pick her up.

- I would've remembered that. - Preacher said "he."

"He was coming to pick her up."

Could someone else have answered your phone?

Could've been Roy, I guess.

Who's Roy?

My off and on boyfriend back then.

You know how to find him?

(SIGHS)

- I'll track him down. - You don't keep in touch?

Roy and I were bad for each other.

Okay. Call me

as soon as you find him, don't tell him what it's about.

Let me talk to him.

- Okay? - Okay.

IRVING: We have.

Maxwell's burner.

He may have used it to coordinate the murder

of Stanley Kent

and possibly Ben Craver.

You think Cliff killed his CI, too?

A strong possibility.

Craver's intel led us to the Strouts.

And Craver's a loose end.

Working theory.

(SIGHS) Shit.

We'll need access to Maxwell's domicile as well.

We'll keep you in the loop.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

Couple things missing here.

FBI property. We didn't take anything relevant

- to your investigation. - How would you know?

- Hey, Harry. - BOSCH: Yeah.

EDGAR: Nothing on it.

They took the memory card.

Nothing relevant to our investigation.

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING FAINTLY)

(CHUCKLES) Lizzie Clayton.

Sight for sore fucking eyes.

Buy you a drink?

Roy.

Don't tell me. You miss me.

Did Daisy call you?

- Ask you to pick her up in Hollywood? - What?

That summer before she died.

She wanted to come home, Roy.

Maybe. I don't know.

- Long time ago. - What the fuck, Roy?

It was ten fucking years ago. I don't remember.

She did, I would've told you.

- Oh. - Uh-huh. You don't remember, that's on you.

- Oh, okay. - Yeah, yeah.

You were probably fucking high.

Fuck you.

(GRUNTS)

Jerry. Check it.

Computer crimes. Finally.

Download of Maxwell's burner cell.

Man was head over heels.

Shit got him dead.

Lucky break for her.

He can't contradict her bullshit story.

What's this about?

Sent a photo, too.

BOSCH: And there's Craver.

Maxwell wanted someone to know.

Craver was talking to the feds.

IRVING: So Maxwell

outed his own CI and then killed him?

Or had one of the Sovereigns do it for him.

Lab's testing Maxwell's DNA against samples

- recovered from Craver's shirt. - And Mrs. Kent?

Made bail.

As of right now, she's got the sweetheart plea deal.

(GRUMBLES SOFTLY)

That sticks in my craw, too.

(PHONE RINGS) Go ahead and take it. We're done here.

This is Bosch.

Yeah, I know her.

Guy's not pressing charges.

- Didn't want to talk to us. - BOSCH: Where is he?

Home, nursing his wounds.

Girl's got a nasty right hook.

I'll take her from here. Appreciate it.

- Any time. - Hope not.

I wasn't drinking.

Told you to let me talk to him.

I needed to ask him why he didn't tell me Daisy called.

And?

He said I was high.

Were you?

I don't remember.

Come on.

Did you know that Daisy was in foster care?

Saw it in her file.

Well, you don't know what it's like.

I fought like hell to get her back.

I went to meetings, got sober.

Made it to every visitation, every court appointment.

I just wanted a chance to make it up to her, you know?

To be better.

I know you did.

Can you take me to a meeting?

Of course.

I'm not giving up on Daisy.

I know.

Need anything, call me. Yeah?

(PHONE RINGS)

Reece?

Sure. See you there.

Hey. Thought you left.

I did. I went to visit Powers.

- Hospital sent him home today. - How is he?

Oh, he's, uh, better.

He's thinking about using his pension to put in a pool.

Good for him.

So, what are you still doing here?

Paperwork on the Terrion murder.

I don't like to rush through it.

Wish everybody here had your work ethic.

Just doing my job.

Look, i-is everything all right?

Fine.

(CLEARS THROAT) I should get back to it.

Well, tell Rondell to start pulling his weight.

(QUIETLY): Isn't that your job?

Excuse me?

I will.

REECE: I just keep playing it over and over again.

You got to let it go.

If I'd seen it sooner.

If I'd put down my gun.

Then it might have been you.

Two years.

She gets two years and my partner's in the grave.

It ain't right.

No, it's fucking not.

(SNIFFLES)

Cliff checked out a sound car.

Few months back, his day off.

Why would he need to record audio on his day off?

Maybe he wanted some insurance

in case things went sideways

and she tried to lay all the blame on him.

- Which she did, in spades. - Yeah.

That audio file's got to be stored somewhere.

I checked. I couldn't find it.

Maybe I'm wrong.

Maybe it's nothing. Just...

Just a hunch.

I'll keep an eye out.

Didn't hear it from me.

Of course.

We even know for sure it's here?

Nope.

(CLACKING CONTINUES)

Jerry.

ChapStick.

Hiding in plain sight.

- Happy couple. - Regular lovebirds.

BOSCH: Maxwell's meeting with Craver.

Could have set up his camera nearby, taken these himself.

- Is that an audio file? - Let's hear it.

MAXWELL: We can just force him to sign.

- ALICIA: He'll never do it. I know him. - You said he was practical.

ALICIA: Pigheaded.

MAXWELL: It can't trace back to me.

ALICIA: You can use Stan's.

It's gonna be fun playing that for a jury.

Ain't that the truth.

(SIGHS)

It's just fucking weird.

She's my boss, not my bestie girlfriend.

You need to talk to her.

And say what... stop touching me?

(LAUGHS SOFTLY)

Forget it.

- I shouldn't have said anything. - But you did.

Puts me in an awkward position.

I-I can't unhear what I heard.

Now, according to regs,

if I don't report what I know, I'm complicit.

Oh, come on.

Don't be such a wuss.

Let's just not talk about it, okay?

Thanks for the support.

Won't take two of us to book that.

I'll do it. You?

Daisy Clayton case.

How's it going?

Going.

- Later. - Later.

IRVING: A new LAPD initiative

to address the homeless crisis in this city.

Twin task forces...

Downtown and Hollywood.

Homelessness is primarily

a housing issue and mental health.

What can we do about that?

BILLETS: Well, uh, crime

in and around the camps is rampant.

Drugs, assault, prostitution.

Well aware of that, Lieutenant.

We do the best we can with the resources that we have.

It's not enough.

You just had one homeless man bashing

another's head in over a patch of concrete.

An unfortunate outlier, sir.

Redeploy your personnel.

Take from vice, narcotics.

Yes, sir.

We could move people from CAPs

and burglary, too... I mean, a good

chunk of those incidents are homeless-related.

Good idea.

Captain, I want Lieutenant Billets

in charge of the Hollywood task force.

I was thinking Lieutenant Thorne.

Billets.

Boots on the ground by next deployment period.

Yes, sir.

This is a coordinated, division-wide effort.

Yes, sir.

And whatever's going on between you two of you...

ends here.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Do you have a name for this task force, sir?

Operation Safe Sidewalks.

Catchy, sir.

I like it.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(KNOCKING)

Detective Bosch, LAPD.

Roy Lewis?

I told the cop at the bar I'm not pressing charges.

Not why I'm here. Can I come in?

- Hell of a shiner. - Yeah.

Forgot to duck.

Honestly, my memory's spotty.

But, yeah, she called.

Why didn't you tell Elizabeth?

Don't remember.

Or maybe I did tell her and she was too high to hear me.

Preacher said Daisy called you

to get a ride home.

Yeah, I went to pick her up, and she didn't show.

Figured she was off with that boyfriend of hers.

Alex Sands?

(SCOFFS)

Little weasel.

Man, that kid was bad news.

The two of them, they were into some crazy shit.

- Yeah, like what? - (SHORT CHUCKLE)

Like picking up men

and shaking them down for cash.

Sands didn't mention that.

Wouldn't have, would he?

You were taking a cut, weren't you?

Why you didn't come forward.

I was protection.

In case they needed it.

I-I never talked to the guys.

I never knew any of the details, I just took my share

and I kept my mouth shut.

Where were you the night she went missing?

Drunk off your fucking ass.

Safe Sidewalks.

It's good.

When do you want to announce?

When it's up and running.

I want to announce results, not promises.

Got it.

What else?

Lot of people in this city think it's time

to see a Latina in office.

We always knew Lopez would take the east side.

She's polling well city-wide.

Good with the press, with the voters.

Warm, friendly.

Likeable?

I'm working on it.

You need to get your numbers up with women.

Couple of high-profile endorsements wouldn't hurt.

Someone in mind?

How do you feel about Honey Chandler?

BOSCH: I talked to Roy Lewis.

Daisy hated that guy.

Said you and Daisy were running a badger game.

Baiting men, shaking them down.

That true?

Yeah, more or less.

(SHORT CHUCKLE)

There's got to be a statute of limitations on this, right?

Right.

Yeah, okay.

Tell me the scam.

Uh...

Daisy and I would put an ad up on Backpage.

Plenty of guys on the Internet looking for something

they can't just get on any corner.

- Underage girls. - Mm-hmm.

We'd use an anonymous e-mail,

and plan to meet in this motel,

Harvard House on Hollywood Blvd.

How'd that play?

They'd meet Daisy in the room.

You know, she'd have a drink

with them, play nice...

while I hid in the closet with a camera.

She never had sex with any of them.

You'd run video from the closet?

Soon as they took their clothes off, I'd jump out.

(SCOFFS)

Photograph their ID

so we had real names and addresses.

And then we'd take whatever cash they had.

And Daisy would go to the bank and max out their ATM card.

You have the videos?

When she disappeared, I...

I deleted everything.

Still got the laptop?

Hard drive had a lot of music on it.

Which is why I kept it.

That was important back then.

Before Spotify, you know?

Those were the days.

Am I gonna get that back?

How you doing, brother?

Man, they put me in a fucking cage.

They threw me in the hole naked.

- But they did not break my spirit. - Resolute.

Hell yes. We doing this?

Hell yes.

People need to know the truth.

(CHUCKLES)

Well, let's get to it, before they come for us again.

Make sure you get the prison

in the background, all right?

Deep state, police state.

Got it.

You're up.

I know that look.

What look?

Distracted, worried.

"Thinking about a case" look.

I may have a lead on Daisy Clayton.

That's good news.

How's her mom doing?

Coping.

Lot of guilt.

She reminds you of your mom, doesn't she?

Who, Elizabeth?

Daisy.

The two of them, together.

I wanted to talk to you about the Alicia Kent case.

I'm not on it.

Even if my last name wasn't Bosch, it's high-profile.

- No interns allowed. - Good, I don't want you near it.

(PHONE RINGS)

Yeah?

EDGAR: Check your e-mail.

Okay, thanks.

WAYLON: For ten days,

I was unlawfully imprisoned by the same people

who murdered my brother Travis in cold blood.

The FBI and LAPD framed us as terrorists

because they see us a threat

to their illegitimate authority.

They're the terrorists.

My brother Travis was right.

The United States of America

has been overthrown

by bankers and parasites.

To the false armies of the FBI, the LAPD

and the Sheriff's department:

We're watching you.

View count's climbing.

Are you worried?

These guys are all talk.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪