All language subtitles for Bosch.S05E03.WEBRip.x264-ION10

(click)

(clicking)

Shit.

(traffic rumbling,
birds chirping)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(laughs) Yeah, no,
that's what I thought, but...

Whatever.
I'll see you around, okay?

Yeah, I'll see you.

(elevator bell dings)

You're here. Good.

You're late.
What's the play?

Better if I do the talking.

That's what
you're paying me for.

Oh, and, uh,
act surprised about the DNA.

Much as I enjoy the high irony
of seeing the two of you

on the same side of the table,

why a meeting?

A phone call
would have sufficed.

-Preston Borders.
-What about him?

His habeas petition.

We understand it's based in part

on a deathbed confession
by another convict.

And this concerns
you and your client...

I presume Detective Bosch
is your client.

-He is.
-Concerns you how?

We'd like to know
where the D.A. stands.

Detective Bosch worked

the Borders case,
testified at his trial.

We're not disputing
the petition.

-Why not?
-We have new DNA evidence

that corroborates
the Olmer confession.

A handkerchief collected
at the scene,

not tested at the time.

-Blood?
-Skin cells. Touch DNA.

Didn't exist 20 years ago.

How does that exonerate him?

You'd release
a psychopathic sexual predator--

a serial killer--
based on a jailhouse confession,

-skin cells on a hankie?
-KENNEDY: If there's been

a miscarriage of justice,
Detective,

-what choice do we have?
-Justice was done.

-Don't undo it.
-CHANDLER: Harry.

Please wait outside.

Alex, let me ask you,

on the basis
of this new evidence...

Yes?

...do you now believe
Borders' contention

the police planted the pendant
in his apartment?

Outside the scope
of this inquiry.

And once this inquiry is over,

is my client in the crosshairs?

Let's not get
ahead of ourselves.

Too late.

I'm already there.

Thank you.

That investigator, Henry.

What about her?

Her beef with you
personal or professional?

-Is it that obvious?
-Pretty much.

-Personal.
-You sleep with her?

Dated. Briefly. Years ago.

-End badly?
-What do you think?

Well, personal could be useful
down the road.

Borders' calls from prison
the last 12 months.

I have my sources, too.

I'll have Hector
get right on them.

Maybe we'll get lucky.

Maybe Borders got careless.

That's the last thing he is.

They're gonna let
this scumbag go

and try and crucify me.

I will not let it come to that.

Can I get it in writing?

♪ ♪

♪ 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 ♪
-♪ 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 ♪

♪ Can't let go ♪

♪ Like me. ♪

(traffic rumbling,
horns honking)

There he is.

About fucking time.

Thanks for showing up.

(indistinct chatter)

Powers showed up this morning
with a knee brace.

Sympathy prop.

He's a street dog,
not a house cat.

He is dying on the storm desk.

We're stuck doing
pissant incident reports

when we could be-- should be--
working our murders.

I agree. It's a waste
of time and talent.

Like anybody cares.

These new cops,
these... millennials.

What do they know?
They don't know.

Fuck 'em.

History should matter.
Respect should be paid.

Yeah, a little credit
where credit's due.

Yeah. Take Crate.

That man's a legend.

He was on the task force
that brought down Eddie Nash

for the Wonderland Murders.

And weren't you
on Night Stalker?

That was my first redball.

No kidding.

We linked a sneaker
tread pattern

from a Bay Area vic's
facial abrasions

to a flower bed
at a Burbank crime scene.

Then Feinstein screws the pooch
at a press conference--

cat out of the bag--
Ramirez tosses the shoes

off the Golden Gate Bridge...
back to square one.

Two more vics before we catch
that motherless fuck.

Wow.

You've had a hell of a career.

You both have.

I see where you're going
with this.

What? No, no, no.
I just...

You know, you get to be
a certain age, like us,

and you start thinking
about the next chapter.

Last thing you want to do
is overstay your welcome.

Look, I know that you've thought
about pulling the pin.

You can't beat Father Time.

Lieutenant, I hate to admit it,

but sometimes I think,
eh, you might be right.

It happens to us all.

-When the time comes...
-It comes.

He won't go quietly.

I guarantee you that.

That man came back to work
after taking two in the gut.

You let me know
if you need my help, you know,

breaking the news to him.

CRATE:
I hope, for his sake,

it doesn't come down
to a hearing test.

How's that?

You ever notice how often
Barrel doesn't respond

-when you talk to him?
-Mm-hmm.

His exes, they always complained
he never listened.

Turns out there's a reason.

PIERCE:
Oh, yeah? What's that?

Well, the gunfire
he was exposed to in 'Nam.

Serious hearing loss.

I mean, he's got hearing aids,
but does he use 'em? (sighs)

Sometimes I think
he wants to tune me out.

Fucker's got a gun.

-Laura O'Connor?
-That's me.

Detective Edgar, LAPD.

Well, somebody finally
listen to me

about these damn drag racers?

I'm sorry.
Investigating a homicide.

Oh.

Yeah, local delinquents.

But no bodies, alas.

What can I do to help you?

Aircraft I saw fly out of here
yesterday afternoon.

-Mm-hmm.
-Around 4:00.

White prop plane.

That would be the Twin Otter.

-Skydiving?
-(laughs) God, I hope not.

Those folks can barely
get on and off the plane,

much less jump out of it.

-They have a schedule?
-Random.

Couple times a week, maybe,
last six, eight months.

All hours, no rhyme or reason.

Same passengers every trip?

Oh, way too far away to tell
from the tower,

-but day-trippers for sure.
-How do you know?

No luggage ever.

Flight plans?

Long as they fly VFR-- visual--

no radar, no assistance
from the tower,

they can come and go
as they please.

Homeland Security knows
about this?

(chuckles)
Still a free country, Detective.

Who owns the Otter?

I will text you the files. Okay?

-(cell phone ringing)
-Jerry.

EDGAR (on phone):
Harry, where are you?

Just left the D.A.'s office.

Looks like they're
going forward.

-That sucks.
-It is what it is.

You hear back
from the Med Board?

It's on.
I'll text you the address.

What about you?

White van's at the clinic.
Garcia showed up around 8:00.

He and the van driver went in.
Nobody else.

No shills, no patients?

EDGAR:
Not while I was there.

What about our plane?

No flight plans, no schedule.

It goes and comes.

Who owns it?

Western Sandblast.
P.O. box.

Invoices to an e-mail address.

I put Pierce on it.

Okay, see you at the meet.

BILLETS:
Hi.

Lieutenant.

-Captain Cooper. (sighs)
-A word?

Two words, actually.

Crate and Barrel.

The other two officers
were equally at fault.

This is the perfect opportunity
to clear out the deadwood.

-They are not deadwood.
-They are way past

their "sell by" date.

You know it, and I know it.

COMPSTAT is next week.

Our quarterly numbers
are outstanding.

Let's not let this little
incident dull that shine.

-We can't force 'em to retire.
-No.

But we can move them.

Where?

-I was thinking CAPs.
-CAPs. Jesus!

Or juvie.

-Your choice.
-(sighs)

Given your long history,

maybe they should
hear it from you.

Loop me in on how it goes.

Here's what we have on Garcia
and his clinic.

Apologize in advance
if I'm a little ripe.

We only get to go undercover
a few times a year.

I like to do it right, so I
stopped showering last Tuesday.

What about this
Garcia character?

Why hasn't he lost his license?

JENSEN: You mean prosecute
one of these doctors?

I mean, the doctors are just
bit characters anyway.

In L.A. County,
Armenian and Russian gangs

run the pill mills.

What about farther out?

I thought the clinic
was in Pacoima.

It is. We followed a van
to Whiteman Airport.

Full of shills.
Flew off to God-knows-where.

Charlie Hovan might know.

-He's our contact at the DEA.
-What's his number?

JENSEN:
No, no, no. He calls you.

We'll put him in touch.

(engine starts)

WEBSTER:
Not much blood.

ROBERTSON: I don't think
they shot him in the trunk.

WEBSTER: Maybe got something off
dry cleaning.

ROBERTSON:
Yeah, maybe.

-VIN plate's missing.
-What about the other four?

I'll check.

If they're all missing,
you're dealing

with a crew
really knows its shit.

Any local gangsters
come to mind?

Barrio Mojado, 38th Street.
Get you a list.

All right.

See what prints come back.

Bet it's a fistful of felons.
(chuckles)

No doubt.

(sighs)

Crate and Barrel
ought to be doing this shit.

I should be out on the street
banging heads

and keeping the peace.

Please stop talking, please.

Just shoot me.

(chuckles)
Don't tempt me.

VEGA:
Sergeant.

Detective Vega.

Lieutenant's expecting you.
I'll take you back.

Oh, no need.
I know the way.

All right.

Cadillac walk.
Where's she from?

-Wilshire. D-2, Robbery.
-A transfer?

What, taking a plum seat
at the Homicide table?

It comes down to who you know.

(Powers scoffs)

Or who wants to know you.

What are you insinuating?

Might be L.T.'s next ex.

I'm just saying.

Clearly, the online
sensitivity training

isn't working for you.

(scoffs)

Let's find you something to do.

Keep the mind occupied...

so your mouth stays shut.

Happy to be here.

BILLETS:
Well, happy to have you.

It's been a long time coming.

You earned it. You deserve it.

You should have been here
years ago.

I appreciate you pushing.

Hey, self-interest.

I want the best people
I can get, so...

Let me introduce you
to your new partner.

Uh, Lieutenant, I-I know
it's only my first day.

The rumor I heard was that...

Okay, um, stop you there.

Hollywood Homicide is here
until it's not.

That's why I need
to get you started.

(sighs)

(phone ringing)

Arias, what's up?

ARIAS (on phone):
Your boy bailed on us.

Gary Wise?

M-I-fucking-A, man.
Saw him this morning.

Said he was gonna bring Bo Jonas
to a follow-up meet,

but he never showed.

I don't know what to tell you.

I haven't heard from him.

I could give a shit
about your CI,

but I need Jonas.

We got no leads
on who shot those kids. Zero.

I'll reach out again.

I appreciate it.

CIs.

Gary. J.

Hit me back.

Charlie Hovan, DEA.

Nick and Nellie said
you wanted to talk to me.

Thanks for taking the time.

-You under?
-14 months.

They tell you what
we're looking at?

None of the scumbags
we're tracking

move their shills by plane.

Someone is,
and they're dropping bodies.

How many so far?

One for sure.

Maybe two that we know of.

Father and son.

One, maybe two.

That's a blip.

What about the Garcia clinic?

Is it on your radar?

Look, we're after big fish.

Major dealers, heavyweights.

Gangs, cartels.

Pill mills, clinics,
docs, shills,

that's just mop-up
after the show.

Sorry to waste your time.

Don't sweat it.

It does sound like
you ran into

some real squirrelly shit,
though.

Shills on planes.
That's crazy.

If it develops into
something more than

a local homicide,
circle back to me.

Just a blip?

Squirrel shit.

PIERCE:
This was last week.

Pops was out of the store,

and junior had a run-in
with this dude.

We sent this picture around.
Nothing so far.

Okay, put me to work.

-How are you at warrants?
-Wired for sound.

I got a friendly, go-to judge.

Well, we need a warrant
for Jose Jr.'s cell phone calls,

texts and e-mails,
credit cards, ATMs and...

I'll get my desk squared away.

All right, great.

Hey, let me know when
you're done writing that up.

I'll go get it signed,
no problem.

Let me see your hands, shitbird.

(laughter)

-Ryan Rodgers.
-Harry Bosch.

Jesus Christ,
I see you're making the most

of your retirement.

Sun and surf.
Wake and bake.

Is that medical or recreational?

What's the difference?

Join me?

Shit, no, man, I'm on duty.

Oh, you're always on duty.

-You're one of those guys.
-Yeah, I guess I am.

Those for me?

You kept a lot.

I kept all of it.

-Borders was my first serial.
-Mine, too.

We did good work.
Caught that fucker.

Least we could do
for the family.

-The kid sister?
-Dinah.

She used to call me
every few months.

She wanted to get
her sister's pendant back.

The seahorse.

Of course,
she had to wait until after

all the appeals were finished.

Took me seven years.
I got it done.

Good job, brother.

Thanks for pulling these.

No big deal.
I already had 'em pulled.

To refresh my memory.

For the habeas hearing?

And to scratch
an itch of my own.

How the hell I missed
this Olmer character.

You and me both.

I went through everything
with a fine-tooth comb.

There wasn't a suspect,
person of interest, a wit.

Nothing.

He ain't in there, Harry.

Not a whisper.

-Any doubts?
-That we got the right guy?

Not a scin-fucking-tilla.

So, what's keeping you up
at night?

Same as you.
I know it's a scam,

but how do we prove it
before the hearing?

Remember what I told you
on the scene?

The Laura syndrome?

Never fall in love
with the victim.

But I did.

And I think you did, too.

(phone ringing)

Edgar.

Yeah, I know him. Why?

20 minutes.

(shouts in Kreyol)

Fuck!

-So, what do I tell them?
-The truth.

Cooper's throwing them
under the bus.

You know I can't do that.

Just tell them it's temporary,
till things cool off.

Well, they'll see right through
that bullshit, too.

Well, those are your options.

Truth or white lie.
Unvarnished or varnished.

I guess I'll varnish it
a little.

Barrel ever tell you
about his suicide mission?

Firebase Ripcord.

I have never heard him talk
about Vietnam.

So, Firebase Ripcord, deep in
country, Ho Chi Minh trail.

NVA had it under siege for
23 days, outnumbered ten to one.

Casualties were so heavy,
the Army asked

for volunteers from other units.

So Barrel, 19-year-old sergeant,
said, "Sign me up."

-He volunteered?
-Here's the kicker.

He was just a couple of weeks
short of finishing his tour,

hopping a freedom bird
and rotating back to the world.

So, that's Barrel.
The kind of man he is.

So, you're saying
he will suck it up

-and make the best of it?
-Not what I'm saying.

He'll hate it, hate you for it,
but he'll do it

'cause he's squared away.

(sighs)
Well, thanks a lot.

You-you've been a great comfort.

Oh. She'll cheer you up.

-Hey, Cheryl.
-Harry.

Sorry I'm late.
Sig alert on the 101.

Overturned big rig.
A lookie-loo carnival.

You want to join us?

Oh, rain check. Got plans.

What plans? You mean
going over old case files?

I'm having dinner
with my daughter.

In-N-Out.

Mm. Animal fries.

Exactly. Enjoy your evening.

ESPINOSA: Your number was
on his start screen.

Voice mail.

Trying to reach him all day.

What's RHD's interest?

His old man was on the job.

EDGAR:
Family been notified?

ESPINOSA:
It's in the works.

You know him?

He was my CI.

♪ ♪

Aren't cops and prosecutors
usually on the same side?

Not always the case.

You learning anything
down there?

Gotten really good
at copying, collating

and redacting thousand-page
documents with a Sharpie.

BOSCH:
Making friends?

It's not summer camp, Dad.

I saw you this morning.

Didn't say hi?

Well, you were engrossed
in conversation with someone.

I didn't want to interrupt.

He looked older.

Everyone there is older than me.

I thought you had a boyfriend
back at school, Mads.

Yeah, a boyfriend,
not a husband.

You really want to discuss
my personal life?

Not especially.

The other day,
when I came in at dawn...

Uh-huh.

Tom and I drove down to Cabrillo
Beach to see the grunion run.

Did they show up?

It was epic. New moon.

I bet that opened his eyes.

He's from Ohio.

California grunion run?

Never seen nothing like it.

Why did... Hey.

(piano stops)

Why did they shoot him
so many times?

(sighs)

We don't know yet.

But every single shot
will be assessed and justified.

Was this? Justified?

The 911 call
said Vasquez had a gun.

But he didn't.

The responding officers
had to assume that he did.

And when they confronted him, he
failed to follow their commands.

Well, maybe he was nervous.

Maybe, uh...

maybe he was scared.

What do you think?

Keeping an open mind.

(chuckles)
It seems clear to me.

Jun. (sighs)

There are hundreds
of thousands of interactions

between police and the public
in this city every year.

Only a handful end like this.

But these are the ones
that people remember.

I'm worried about how
this could blow back on you.

It's the department
I worry about.

Babe, you are the department.

You need to think
about the future.

Your future.

MADDIE:
Is that her?

She worked
at a recording studio.

That's where she met him.

Preston Borders,

trust fund snot,
wannabe rock star.

She caught his eye.

He looks like a creep.

Well, Danielle thought so, too.

But he kept pressing her.

She finally agreed
to go out with him.

But he came on strong, too fast.

She ended the date early.

Couple hours later,

he came back to her building,
wasted on something,

leaning on her buzzer.

She threatened to call the cops,
and he split.

How do you know all this?

She told her friends.

Two weeks later,
he murdered her.

No forced entry.

She let him in.

We estimated he was in there
for four hours.

Raped her, strangled her
with her own belt.

Took the pendant she was wearing

as a trophy.

-He didn't leave any DNA?
-No, he was wearing gloves.

He was careful.

Organized.

Calm.

Took his time.

There's something bothering you
about this.

Well, I was
a newly minted detective.

I wasn't in charge
of the investigation.

Do you think things were missed?

I didn't then.

And now?

It was a long time ago.

(indistinct chatter)

Thanks for coming.

Course.

Can't have you drinking alone.

Hmm. Bottle or glass?

Bottle.

Up all night?

Pretty much.

This was not your fault, J.

Yeah, feels like it.

They should have been
more careful.

I vouched for them.

So it's on me, too.

-Jose.
-Professor.

How long have you been out here?

Uh, about an hour or so.

-Why didn't you knock?
-I didn't want to wake you.

I've been worried about you.
I called your house many times.

Sit.

What happened?

These people came to us.

These gangsters.

We made a deal with them
to use our store.

For what?

To sell oxy.

-Jose.
-We needed the money.

Pop was gonna have to close
the store down, and...

I'm not judging you.

They call it a pill mill.

We were filling hundreds
of prescriptions a week.

Pop freaked. He wrote a letter
to the medical board.

They found out, the gangsters.

They threatened us.

That morning,
I was at the store.

I left to run an errand.

And while I was gone...

You should go to the police.

-And say what?
-You could identify them.

I don't know who they are.
I didn't see it happen.

I wasn't there. And the news
says the killers wore masks.

And I could go to jail
for fraud.

So they're after you, too.

-Professor.
-Uh-huh?

I need your help.

Of course.

Thank you.

Have you made arrangements?

Arrangements?

For the funeral.
Your father's funeral.

BARREL:
CAPs. Fucking CAPs.

How the mighty have fallen.

It's a temporary assignment.

-Bullshit.
-Respectfully.

Powers and Rodriguez?

Oh, they're gonna get dinged
a couple of days, too.

-It's only fair.
-Fair?

What's fair about it?

All the cases we've closed, L.T.

The-the good work we've done.

-No, I know.
-BARREL: This isn't you.

This is Captain fucking Cooper.

Look, it's Division Command.
It's-it's all of us.

Jumped On cases?
A bunch of he said, she said?

No. Fuck that.

I'll eat my gun first.

Barrel.

He wouldn't actually
do that, would he?

Nah.

Uh, excuse me, Lieutenant.

(Crate clears his throat)

(door shuts)

-Where you going?
-Out.

Maybe you should
give me your piece.

Don't be a cheese dick.

-Hey.
-How'd it go?

All three shots were lethal.

Ballistics is checking them
against the slug

from the Fagan murder.

I meant, how did
your first autopsy go?

(chuckles)
Um, I didn't embarrass myself.

-I didn't think you would.
-I wasn't so sure.

They release the body?

This afternoon.

There'll be a funeral
in the next couple days.

And the son might show up
to pay his last respects.

-Right.
-I'll call the coroner.

Find out the funeral home.

And when and where
the church service is.

And the cemetery.

No evidence of any contact
between the two.

Borders has been in the Q
for the last 20 years

since his conviction.

Olmer bopped around
a little bit.

Folsom, Pelican Bay,
died in Corcoran.

So no intersect there?
Friends, cellmates?

No evidence that they knew

each other
on the outside, either.

You can't prove they didn't.

I can't rule it out.

It was a year and a half
that they were both in L.A.

Four of Olmer's rapes were
in Hollywood during that time.

About a mile or two from where
Danielle Skyler was living.

So Olmer could have done it, or
they could've done it together.

Could have. Didn't.

Would explain the DNA.

DNA was planted.
That's what we have to explain.

What's in it for Olmer?

Dying man, nothing to lose.

Maybe the lawyer
promised him something.

We need to have a look
at his confession.

I'm on it.

What about Borders' phone calls?

Halfway through 'em.

There's a bunch, all to a woman
named Rita Tedesco.

Did a public search.

She's here in L.A.,
but the headline is:

16 years ago,
her and Borders tied the knot.

He's married?

Women who fall for convicts.

-Huh. It's a mystery.
-It's a fetish.

Personality disorder,
hybristophilia.

Sexual arousal and attainment
of orgasm facilitated by

and contingent upon
being with a partner

who has committed
a public outrage.

Rape, murder, armed robbery.

You're a dark horse,
coming up with that one.

It's how I met my first wife.

-Hector.
-What was your outrage?

Could we stay
on point here, please?

About six months ago,
Tedesco and Borders

started communicating in code.

Nothing genius, just,

"Hey, did you talk to that guy

about that thing?"

Nothing specific, no names.

No calls to Olmer's
lawyer or Cronyn?

Just her.

Maybe she's the conduit
between Borders and Cronyn.

Somebody fed Olmer that story.

He didn't come up
with that on his own.

I think we need to know
more about Mrs. Borders.

Yeah, I'm on it.

I know it's strange for you
to be the client

and you're not used
to sitting on your hands,

but you have to trust us.

I will need you
when the time is right.

Bonner.

I know.

You don't like me.

I don't know you well enough
to dislike you.

I worked for Honey Chandler
a long time,

and I've helped her win
a lot of cases.

Let me be clear--
if she's happy...

I don't give a shit
what you think.

I know it was you
that dug up that dirt

on my mother she used
at the Flores trial.

-Is that a problem for you?
-Had I known at the time,

it would have been
a big fucking problem for you.

Just be as good at this
as you were at that.

Heard a lot about you.

And you asked
to work here anyway?

-(scoffs)
-Detective Bosch is a legend.

He does what the rest of us
only wish we could do.

Like what?

Lieutenant Pounds comes to mind.

Oh, that's not my finest hour.

(scoffs) It was for me.

-I worked for the prick.
-(chuckles)

Welcome to Hollywood Homicide.

Here we go.

Jerry, get a look at this.

That's the van driver
from the Garcia Pain Clinic.

Maybe one of the shooters.

We're working on an I.D.

What you got there?

Med Board workup
on the Pain Clinic's patients.

Fair number of these are seeing
doctors at the VA, too.

Double-dipping.

-Hey, Harry.
-Yeah?

Young woman at the front
asking for you.

Says it's about
the Borders case.

Does she have a name?

Dinah Rousseau. Says you know
her by her maiden name.

-Send her back.
-All right.

My mother got this notice from
the district attorney's office.

Is it true?

They're looking into it.

I don't understand.

So, Borders is innocent?

Someone else killed Danielle?

No, it's a mistake.

We'll put a stop to it
at the hearing.

He was supposed
to die in prison.

Life without parole.

You said so.

-You promised.
-I know I did.

And he will.

Mr. Cronyn.

Detective.

Preston Borders is playing you.

He's spent the last
20 years scheming

how to game the system,
and you fell for it.

-I'll get the bailiff.
-You do that.

No, Kathy. It's all right.

I'll be right in.

For the last 20 years,
Preston Borders

has maintained his innocence.

And now evidence has
come to light that proves it.

Her sister came to see me
this morning.

Imagine how she feels.

The Skyler family, most of all,
deserves to know the truth.

They already know it,
and so do I.

What I don't know...

is how Borders
managed this scam.

But I will find out.

And if you're in on it...
you're going down, too.

Thank you.

I'm so sorry, Pop.

I'm so, so sorry.

(horse neighing)

BOSCH:
Dr. Garcia.

What do you think?

Throw him the rap?

BOSCH: No, he lawyers up,
shuts down the clinic,

we got nothing.

What about the VA?

Could be legit.

They get one from the VA,
then go to Garcia for seconds.

-I'm a vet.
-I know you are.

I could get a scrip.

Maybe a line to Garcia.

My back's been killing me,
lifting these evidence boxes.

It's worth a shot.

(engine starts)

Sorry about your CI.

Thanks.

What happened?

I think someone saw him talking
to Marcos and Arias.

Snitch jacket.

Thing is, I put them together.

At their request.

Still.

(cell phone ringing)

Chandler?

I'm at the courthouse,

where you are the trending
topic of conversation.

-Cronyn complain?
-To the judge.

Said you tried
to intimidate him.

Just a warning shot
across the bow.

Something I learned from you.

Well, too bad you didn't acquire
my delicate touch.

My finesse.

You are the master.

Don't you forget it.

I was able to get a quick look
at the case file.

How?

Hector. Told you he was good.

I'm sending you a pdf
of Olmer's confession.

Let me know how it lines up
with the facts.

Will do.

ARMANDO:
Closed, under the circumstances.

FUNERAL DIRECTOR:
Of course.

Visitation?

ARMANDO:
Yes.

He was well respected
in the community.

Very well liked.

FUNERAL DIRECTOR:
Okay. Jose needs to sign these.

Jose, they need you
to sign some papers.

♪ ♪

(dog barking nearby)

♪ ♪