(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 ♪
-♪ 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. ♪
(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)
♪ ♪