(chiming)
(camera shutter clicks)
♪ ♪
(mellow jazz playing)
(jazz song ends)
(needle clicking at end of record)
♪ ♪
♪ 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. ♪
(cart's wheels squeaking)
Found your calling.
Don't even have to glove up.
Little early for bustin' balls.
Just try not to hurt anybody with that thing, Powers.
(quietly): Fucking Bosch.
Heard that, scrote.
(phone rings)
-You're up bright and early. -Took a hard look
at that so-called confession.
It's bogus.
Not his M.O.
Olmer was a serial rapist, not a murderer.
Well, he could have graduated to it. Natural progression.
Olmer claims he climbed Skyler's balcony,
slipped through an unlocked sliding door.
How he attacked his rape victims.
The railing was covered with a layer of soot, so was the deck.
No handprints, no footprints. No one came in from the balcony.
Good. What else?
No mention of the carving knife.
Carving knife?
Used it to mutilate her, postmortem.
-(sighs): Good God. -We held it back
to weed out the false confessions.
-Like this one. -There's nothing in there that wasn't
in the papers at the time or came out later at trial.
Okay. The confession's a fake.
Motive aside for now.
-Whose idea? -Who benefits?
Well, Borders, obviously.
Cronyn, if there's a settlement.
-Olmer confessed to Cronyn. -Allegedly.
There's no audio, no video.
Just the document.
There was a witness.
The corrections officer.
I'll have Hector chase him down.
You need a badge to get to him, remember?
Tread lightly.
(phone ringing in distance)
He'll show. Comes every morning,
truck full of soda cans and scrap metal.
Yeah, and whatever else he can get his hands on.
Peanut's industrious-- you got to give him that.
One word for it.
I've known Peanut a long time-- he's no carjacker.
That you know of.
(sighs) What's this one about?
Oh. Alert the media.
Two panhandlers fighting over a chunk of sidewalk.
-(sighs) -Living the dream.
HOBBS: The corner of Sunset
and Las Palmas.
It's my spot.
Ask anybody. It's my spot.
Don't you guys have agreements, who's got what spot?
Exactly.
And what makes this spot...
more special than, say, any other spot?
It's my spot. I mean, it's got the coffee shop,
it's got the stoplight.
And besides that?
Besides that, people know me.
CRATE: He says...
you pushed him first.
Look at the size of that dude.
He attacked me.
Mm-kay. So why can't you find another spot?
Fuck that.
I was there first.
Ah.
BARREL: The young lady in the coffee shop
filmed this whole thing on her phone.
But that don't matter. It's like you say.
It's understood. It's my spot.
Sorry, pal. Next time, get there first.
Early bird, worm...
If he's there tomorrow, in my spot...
ain't no telling what could happen.
Don't tell me that. Don't go there.
Could be mayhem.
Work with me here.
Maddie Bosch?
Short on clerks this week.
Need you to sit in on witness prep, take notes.
-Okay. Not a problem. -I'd hope not.
(exhales)
(indistinct chatter)
BOSCH: Fucked it up first
in Desert Storm.
You can see the cartilage is practically oatmeal.
-When did you dislocate it? -Kandahar, '02.
Just jumping in and out of those APCs,
humping 60 pounds of battle rattle.
Well, the range of motion's
a little loose, so...
I'm gonna write you a prescription
for extra-strength ibuprofen.
Yeah, uh, Doc,
that's like fucking aspirin.
I need something a little stronger.
(sighs) How long you been off the oxy?
Six weeks, two days.
Mr. Reilly, you been off for that long,
you're well on your way to being off it for good.
Yeah, Doc, my knee hurts like a bastard.
Oxy's the only thing that helps.
-What dosage were you taking? -80.
That's high. Who prescribed it?
I don't remember his name.
Where was this?
-V.A. -Here?
Nevada. That a problem?
Not at all.
As long as I can look up your prescription history...
Yeah, well, I'm telling it to you right now.
My mistake. Maybe it wasn't the V.A.
You know, I lead a pain management group.
Why don't you come by?
-Group? -Yeah.
You meet other vets going through
the same thing you're going through.
They're learning to manage their pain
-without addiction. -Yeah, I don't know, Doc.
I'm-I'm not good with crowds.
Well, that's the way
we do things now.
No more opioids.
You want to live, right?
(softly): Yeah.
Good.
There he is.
About time.
(engine starts)
Peanut!
Don't even think about it.
Come on, Dotson.
What, you stalking me, man?
I-I pissed clean for you a week ago.
So why were you about to rabbit, you're so law-abiding and all?
I don't know. Muscle memory?
Muscle memory. Good one.
This is Detective Robertson.
LAPD, Homicide.
Hell, I ain't killed nobody.
Convince me.
-Why so public? -Listen, Gary insisted.
-It was his call. -Said he felt safer.
Somebody must have seen him with you.
Gary knew the game.
He's been out of the game a long time.
Gary was never hard-core.
Who's lead on this at RHD?
Conniff and Espinoza.
We'll reach out.
I hope to God they got something, man,
'cause we got nothing.
I'll follow up with his dad.
He was on the job. D2, South Bureau.
Narcotics.
Dwight Wise?
That was before our time.
Let us know if Pops has any ideas.
Mm.
HANSEN: Have you been doing
your mindfulness exercises, Louis?
(chuckles)
Be present and let my mind wander?
That's some scary shit, Doc.
Last week you said you're gonna do your best to go out
-for a walk. -I got...
my back, there's fucking spasms, man.
Have you been going to work?
That just aggravates the situation.
It sucks to be you.
How's your sleep?
Sleep? I don't sleep.
I toss and turn all night.
I'm so fucking exhausted. I mean, I-I don't even
want to get out of bed in the morning.
Yeah? But... you made it here today.
What?
All you do is whine.
What are you, a ray of sunshine?
Least I don't bitch about it.
But he asked me a question.
Uh, hey, Doc?
Look, man, like I told you,
this shit's not gonna work for me.
(sighs) It takes time. Trust me.
You say so. Can you give me
a little something to tide me over?
Give it 30 days, Mr. Reilly.
You'll see a change, I promise you.
Another month of this shit?
Listen, we'll revisit your situation then.
But until then, take the ibuprofen,
try to stay off the oxy.
Okay?
(speaking indistinctly)
Just get in the fucking car...
DEFENSE ATTORNEY: The defendant has
strong ties to the community,
is employed full-time, and has no reason to flee.
So she intends to contest these charges vigorously.
-Ms. Loring? -Thank you, Your Honor.
The People object to any deviation downward
from the bail schedule.
This defendant is likely to lose her employment,
since she is charged with stealing from her employer.
It is the People's position
that she is a flight risk, and we ask for appropriate bail.
JUDGE: Bail is set at $100,000.
The court will take a 15-minute recess.
Buick Century.
Year?
2003.
You know your cars.
I do.
This particular 2003 Buick Century--
found your prints all over it.
Well, um...
it-it might not be the-the-the same car, 'cause,
uh, the other night, me and my boy Beansie, we was...
we was just chilling, you know, having some beers,
and we were by some cars, but we were just...
we were just leaning against them.
You know, we-we was talking.
-Just leaning on 'em? -Yeah, man.
Just shooting the shit.
We found your prints inside the car.
This vehicle was used
in a homicide-- makes you an accessory.
Accessory to what?
Carjacking, kidnapping.
-Whoa. -Murder.
Whoa, man!
I told you, I ain't killed nobody.
Beansie. What's Beansie's last name? He a felon, too?
-I don't know. -You don't know his last name, your boy Beansie?
-I don't know. -You don't know, you don't know.
So how about we go grab your boy Beansie
and check out this bullshit story of yours?
He's a felon, you're going back to prison.
Come on, man, don't do me like that.
Hey, you'll do a bullet. But if you're mixed up
in this other thing, you'll get old and die there.
Come on, man, I was just taking parts off the cars.
-That's it? -I swear to God.
It-it was a demolition down on Center Street.
You know, I was... I was copper-mining,
I seen these two white dudes, they dumped the Buick,
tossed the keys, and walked away.
What'd they look like?
White.
(chuckles softly) I got that.
-Tall? Short? -One was taller.
He was, like, big, like one of them UFC dudes.
-The other guy? -Um, average.
Just average white guy. You know.
So you went back and stripped it?
Come on, man. Yo, this some helpful shit I'm giving you.
You're not even really gonna violate me
over some stolen Buick parts.
Don't disrespect me like that.
Why don't you tell me more about these...
two white guys?
(dog barking in distance)
(tool clacking, scraping)
♪ ♪
(phone clicks, beeps)
(clicks)
Boring, right?
But "good experience."
You're Harry Bosch's daughter.
That's right. Maddie.
Christina Henry.
I thought you lived in Arizona.
Las Vegas, actually, but I moved here to live with my dad.
He's got that killer view.
You've been to our house?
Your dad and I were colleagues.
And now you're a lawyer?
Investigator.
For CIU?
That's right.
Do you like it?
Better than being a detective?
It's important.
We verify everything was done right,
the law was followed every step of the way,
the right person convicted and incarcerated.
It's satisfying.
Say hello to your dad for me.
How'd it go at the V.A.?
Doctor sent me straight to group therapy.
No prescription?
Ibuprofen, extra strength.
You in group? I'd pay to see that.
I got in touch with my feelings, Jerry.
Well, you only have two. Which one?
Joy.
I think someone from the group
could get us to the Garcia Clinic.
I'll look over the med board list.
Take a look at the first name Louis-- he was peddling pills
-in the parking lot after the session. -What's this?
That's stuff from the Skyler murder.
What are you looking at?
Transcript of the sentencing hearing.
Borders railed on and on about something
that had happened before we grabbed him up
for the Skyler murder.
Claims we busted him one night
a few weeks earlier for no reason.
-For what? Being a douche? -No, he was the lead suspect.
We were keeping an eye on him.
But I can't find any record of this supposed arrest anywhere.
So I pulled the DFARs from archives.
-Gonna have a look-see. -Damn.
You're gonna go through all of those?
-No stone unturned, brother. -Why they call you the Grinder.
They do, don't they?
Better believe it.
(man humming melody)
(continues humming)
Hey, Rita.
Excuse me?
Rita, right? Rita Borders?
I... I-I'm Rita Tedesco.
Uh, I saw you in the courtroom.
Who are you?
Yeah, I'm a... friend of your husband's.
I just got out of The Q.
He told me to look you up.
I don't know what you're talking about...
who you're talking about.
Yeah, come on, you know.
Pres, your husband, my pal,
he told me to look you up if I needed anything.
He didn't tell me anything like that.
What do you want?
He said you guys were cooking up something.
Money's coming. Big money.
I just thought... borrow a few bucks maybe?
You know, tide me over?
There's no money.
Uh-huh. Well, that's not what he said.
He said you would be happy to front me some.
There isn't any. Not yet.
-Yeah? Then when? When, Rita? -I don't know. Look...
don't bother me again, or I'll tell Pres.
Uh-huh.
♪ ♪
SERVIDONE (over phone): Yeah?
-Officer Anthony Servidone? -Retired. Who's calling?
This is Detective Harry Bosch, Hollywood Homicide.
Look, I know it's late, but...
SERVIDONE: Strolling down Sunset
bold as brass.
So I jacked him up.
That flyer was for information only.
That flyer said he was a murder suspect.
That flyer said, in bold red letters,
"Do not arrest based solely on this flyer."
Who the fuck reads the fine print?
I'm out on patrol, I see a murder suspect, I pick him up.
Then what?
I get him back to the house, put him in a cell.
Search him?
Course.
Find anything?
Nope. No contraband,
no weapons, no body parts.
Clean as a whistle.
So I notify the task force, per the flyer.
What'd they say?
Hang tight. Somebody'd be down.
An hour later, in walks Irving.
-Lieutenant Irving. -Lieutenant Irving.
Just as by-the-book then as he is today.
It was late.
He was pissed.
I'll bet.
I lay it out for him.
Smoke starts coming out of his ears.
Just like you, busting my balls about the flyer.
You weren't supposed to arrest him.
Guess what,
it wasn't an arrest.
I "detained" him, according to the lieutenant.
Next thing I know,
Irving cuts that scumbag loose.
-(knocking) -OFFICER: Open up!
(door splinters)
(indistinct police transmission)
Code 4. All clear.
All right, everyone stay here
until I get the before-and-afters done.
Then we'll do search assignments.
(case clacks)
Morning.
Rough night?
(exhales)
Joe Law School give you that?
His name is Tom, thank you.
And, yes, he did.
White instead of red.
He's already overthinking it.
Is that a thing?
Red is serious.
White could go either way.
Could be friendship, could be romantic.
Scares me you know that, Dad.
Your mom schooled me well.
So, which is it?
He subpoenaed me for a date.
-Really? -Wrote out this cute little summons.
Dinner at Bestia,
which is super hard to get into.
I wouldn't know.
I only go to the "easy to get into" places.
Christina Henry says hello.
You're trying to change the subject.
She just loves the view from up here.
She said you two were colleagues.
Briefly.
When was this?
Years ago.
You were in Hong Kong.
Who broke it off?
It was mutual.
Just... watch your six with her.
Okay, Dad?
Why would you say that?
Call it a hunch.
(soft chatter)
Check this out.
Oscar Pineto.
Jose's cousin.
Family gathering after the wake.
Any sign of Jose?
Not at the wake.
But on Oscar's Instagram...
The Doyers.
Last Friday night.
(chuckles)
Let's go ring his bell.
God bless social media.
You know, I collared this knucklehead once
'cause he posted selfies
while he was burgling a house.
How many likes did he have?
(chuckles) Went viral.
I think he won a Darwin Award.
I thought you had to die to win a Darwin Award.
Must be dead by now.
He was too dumb to live.
-It's not anywhere in the files. -IRVING: The arrest
was premature.
We didn't yet have probable cause.
Why you didn't have Servidone write it up.
Borders was our prime suspect.
I didn't want to lose him on a technicality.
No, I get it. Thanks, Chief.
CRATE: Yeah, yeah. Thing's a hundred years old.
So you should be able to fix it,
since you were around when it was brand-new.
Ha-ha-ha-ha.
It got jammed up how, exactly?
I don't know.
(sighs)
-(grunts) -Okay, okay.
-I've got it. -(sighs)
You realize each of these
is an individual drop-off at the City Attorney's Office.
Well, thank you, this being my first day on the job and all.
Oh, here's a tip.
Next time, take the staple out.
(groans)
I didn't see it, okay?
(quietly): There's a shock.
Something you want to say to me?
That's what I thought.
You...
never saw...
the car.
Tell me I'm wrong.
Admit it.
You never even heard me.
You just blew through the intersection.
Go fuck yourself.
-Oh. -Gentlemen,
what the hell is going on?
I'm done here.
I'll have some general questions first.
When it happened,
where.
And then I'll ask you to point him out.
It's the only time you'll have to look at him.
Okay.
Now, when you're up there on the stand,
if it gets emotional,
if you get emotional...
Don't expect me to cry.
All I'm saying is that it's okay to feel
-whatever you feel. -I've had plenty of time for that.
I'm done crying.
BOSCH: Bosch.
Sanchez, D.O.C. Corcoran.
Told to call you about inmate Lucas John Olmer.
Yeah, thanks for getting back to me.
Did you witness his confession?
-No, that's not accurate. -It isn't?
I witnessed him sign a piece of paper. I don't know what
-that was. -You didn't read it?
No, sir, I did not.
I saw his lawyer read it to him,
through the glass.
Cronyn.
Then he called me in.
As a witness.
Correct.
I gloved up and went in.
Olmer signed, the lawyer signed, then I signed.
Witnessed the signatures. That's all.
Why the gloves?
Olmer had MRSA.
I didn't want to fuck around with that.
Think he knew what he was signing?
He was dying.
Doped to the gills.
Barely hold the pen.
Cronyn wearing gloves, too?
Gloves and a mask.
Okay, Sanchez.
Thanks a lot.
Not a problem.
Have a good one.
(grunts)
Look, I haven't seen Jose in weeks.
That wasn't you and cuz other night at the Doyers game?
Instagram, dawg.
Word to the wise:
you're on the run, best not be posting.
We can find you, bad guys can, too.
He came to me a couple days ago.
Scared shitless.
Needed to get out of town.
He say why?
My uncle's murder.
Said the same guys were after him, too.
You help him out?
Loaned him my car.
Where'd he go?
Bakersfield.
My sister Rosie's.
He there now?
I don't know.
I haven't heard from him.
He tossed his phone. Worried about
-being tracked. -You talk to your sister?
I tried calling her, but she's not answering.
That doesn't concern you?
It's starting to.
Hope we don't have to go to Bakersfield.
-Ever been? -No.
Don't knock it.
Serious?
The Bakersfield sound.
Buck Owens. Merle Haggard.
"Mama Tried."
"The Bottle Let Me Down." "Life in Prison."
Classic honky-tonk, Pierce.
Honky-tonk?
Like country music?
You got to broaden your horizons.
Four hours round-trip.
Let's call first.
I know a cop up there.
Maybe she can get a bead on our boy.
It'll be fun.
Teach you how to line dance.
-Texas two-step. -Mm-mm.
-Don't knock it till you try it. -(laughs)
Look at you with the gag walk.
Just a poor boy down on his luck.
Louis Degner.
Double-dipper.
V.A., Garcia Clinic.
Still working on those sobriety coins.
Where is he?
Around the corner.
How do you want to do this?
I don't think he's gonna give us a problem, but...
set up down the block in case he gets froggy.
Copy that.
(dog barking in distance)
Louis.
Dominic Reilly from the V.A.
You in there?
(thud)
Louis.
Louis, you in here?
Louis, what are you doing?
-The fuck are you doing here? -Yo, what the fuck
-are you doing to her? -Let go of me, asshole!
She OD'd. It's Narcan.
(click)
(grunts) Call 911!
Jesus.
BOSCH: She breathing?
DEGNER: Jesus Christ.
(phone rings)
Billets.
ROBERTSON: Hey, L.T.
It's Jimmy.
Sorry to bother you. I tried Harry.
Uh, he's out in the field.
Hey, listen, I got a guy who can I.D.
the two men who dumped that Buick.
Our probable pharmacy shooters.
How good's the description?
Maybe composite good.
(hisses) Oh, that's a dilemma.
-Thought it might be. -I mean, Command takes it wide,
I don't have enough bodies to handle the calls.
Why don't I get my guy to go ahead and do the composite.
We don't have to release it right away.
All right. That works.
How's it going?
Slow.
Waiting on ballistics.
Tie the two murders together.
Splendid.
Onward and upward.
(siren wailing)
(siren stops)
-(ambulance doors shut) -(siren wailing in distance)
(starts engine)
-(dogs barking) -(siren approaching)
John Law.
EDGAR: Police.
Do you need assistance?
-What's going on? -OD.
-Everything's fine now, Officer. -Does she look fine to you?
PARAMEDIC: Ma'am.
Ma'am, we've just revived you.
Just leave me.
We're gonna take you to the hospital, okay?
-Lizzie. -Don't bother.
Lizzie, it's Louis. You're gonna be okay.
PARAMEDIC: Okay.
You the owner?
-Yeah. -Who is she?
That's my ex.
Let me see some I.D.
You, too, come on.
BOSCH: Look, man.
He just let her back in the house
so she could get her shit out of the kitchen.
Next thing we know, she's out cold.
Your pupils are dilated.
It's just the adrenaline.
Get her some help. Before her luck runs out.
You owe me.
You've seen the footage, Chief.
The threat was clear.
I want to know what you saw in the moment.
Big neighborhood bash.
We arrive, everyone scatters.
Officer Robson gets on the suspect Vasquez.
He bolts.
Did you think he had a gun?
He had something in his waistband.
I believed it could be the gun from the 911 calls.
When Vasquez made that affirmative move to his waist...
(sighs)
Anything else?
(sighs)
Officer Robson and the suspect.
What?
Just a feeling.
I think they knew each other.
Some kind of bad blood.
If Borders' conviction is vacated?
A lot of egg on a lot of faces.
If he didn't kill her, how'd the pendant end up in his apartment?
Uh-huh. Not necessarily.
Spoken like an ex-cop.
Borders dated her.
Once.
Yeah, he could've stole it.
Could've this, could've that.
Say you're right.
You know, say it was cops.
One particular cop.
Bunch of them worked the scene.
Harry Bosch found the pendant.
You know his reputation.
Colors outside the lines.
A far cry from what you're talking about.
Roberto Flores case?
He used a throw-down to make it look like a good shoot.
That's apocryphal.
Jury found for the plaintiff.
Gave her a dollar, you know,
slap on the wrist for violating policy, not planting evidence.
I think he got away with it.
And not for the first time.
WOMAN (over P.A.): Price check on Aisle 3.
Price check on Aisle 3, please.
(timer ticking)
(clears throat)
(timer rings)
(sighs) I love this fucking movie.
Holy smoke.
Or would you rather do this?
(Barrel laughs)
-Man without a Star. -(gunshot on TV)
-Kirk Douglas. -JEFF JIMSON (on TV): Aw, Demps,
-when do I learn that? -The Chin.
-DEMPSEY RAE (on TV): You don't. -Yeah.
Twirling a gun never saved a man's life.
There's only one thing you got to learn.
Get it out fast.
-They broke the mold. -And then...
put it away... slow.
(siren wailing in distance)
How'd you find me?
Saw you in the parking lot with your girlfriend. I followed you.
(scoffs) Not my girlfriend.
Okay. Just the way you two were bitching at each other.
She's just a customer. Nothing more.
Pretty swift with that needle.
I was a medic in Iraq.
No shit.
Fifth SFG. Afghanistan.
Your customer, she OD a lot?
Who's counting anymore?
Thank God for Narcan.
That shit.
What's her war story?
Her service was stateside.
That's not why she's fucked up.
Who's Daisy?
How do you know about that?
I clocked the "rest in peace" tattoo.
It was her daughter.
How'd she die?
She got murdered.
That's fucked up. Recent?
About ten years ago.
How old was she?
She was 14.
Not enough pills in the world for that shit.
No.
They ever solve it?
Nah.
Speaking of pills.
What do you need?
I need to get into the Garcia Clinic.
Need you to vouch for me.
I guess I owe you.
I guess you do. Big time.
Kept your ass from going to fucking jail.
(chuckles)
How fucked up are you, Reilly?
How fucked up I need to be?
DWIGHT: RHD was here.
Wanted to know if Gary was back on the street.
Thought he was staying away from all that.
He was.
I thought he was.
Steady job.
Going to church.
I dropped by his place.
I found this in his bedroom.
I didn't know he had that.
He was worried about something?
If he was, he didn't tell me.
He didn't say anything to me, either.
I thought you all were out of touch.
Yeah...
Two South Bureau detectives asked me to arrange a meet.
What about?
That church drive-by.
What would Gary know about that?
Oh, they... they were just working a lead.
Thought he could put them in touch with someone who might.
Did he meet with them?
He did.
(sighs)
Somebody saw them together.
Goddamn it.
Goddamn it to hell.
Detectives.
BOSCH: Do you have a moment, Mrs. Skyler?
We have some news.
We got him.
Are you sure?
BOSCH: I am sure.
♪ ♪
RODGERS: Remember what I told you on the scene?
The Laura Syndrome?
BOSCH: Don't fall in love with the victim.
♪ ♪