All language subtitles for Bosch.S03E10.WEBRip.x264-RARBG_en

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Who eats
a chili fucking dog

before going out
in rough water?

10-year-old?

Try seven Theta Delts
with tequila hangovers.

Never gonna get this out
of the seams and runnels.

Woody Woodrow
gave me your number.

Alamos Cove.

I told him
the break was for shit,

but he was paying cash.

Surfer. Last week.

Day trip?

No. He stayed over.

Take a lot of gear
out there with him?

Couple of shorties

and some gnarly-ass suitcases
I think were for camping.

He bring it all back in?

Just the boards.

The shit I see,
you learn not to ask.

I don't know Alamos Cove.

Santa Cruz Island.

I need you
to take me out there

where you
dropped him off.

Now?

Give me five minutes
to change clothes.

City paying?

Nobody's paying you
anything

till you
air out that boat.

It is outrageous

that an artist of
Andrew Holland's pedigree

should be subjected
to this kind of malicious

prosecutorial misconduct.
My client--

You got him on tape?

He implicates himself
in everything.

There is no way that Holland
squirms out of this.

Not your worry
anymore, though, is it?

How's that?

Wounded
in the line of duty.

Tax-free medical pension.

You trying to get rid of me?

What? God, no. I'm not--

Hold on.

Yeah.

Lieutenant, I want
to charter a boat

to Santa Cruz Island.
I need your approval.

All right, it sounds like
you're already on a boat.

Great.
I'll take that as a yes.

Bosch, what the fuck?

I think Woody Woodrow
stashed his money there

and Dobbs has been
tracking it.

You see any sign of him

at all, you call in
for backup. Is that clear?

It's just a recon.

Where on the island?

All over.

Bosch?

You know,

retirement's sounding
good right about now.

**

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* I can't let go *

* I feel *

You bring people
out here to surf a lot?

Middle of the week?
This time of year?

Not really.

All the good fishing's been
over on the other side.

Bring me in
close to that boat.

I want to see who's here.

Rudy.

Bosch, back so soon?

Ms. Benitez.

What's your pleasure?

Skip the formalities--

J. Edgar.

Jimmy Olson here says
you're expecting him.

I just wanted
a quick word.

That's six.
Okay, say goodbye.

- Wait.
- About what?

You.

You kill a guy, next day
almost get killed yourself.

It's gotta be related.

I'm not interested
in being a story.

Sure, but maybe you'd
like to tell one?

Hell, cops get a bad rap
every fuck-up.

Here's a case
where you put your life
on the line for something.

Or someone.

People should hear why.

Or not.

Thanks for your time.

Thomas Niese.

What?

Do some homework
and get back to me.

N-I-E-S-E.

Ahoy!

Trying to embrace
the ancient patois.

Why is he running
the line to the shore?

Keeps you from drifting
around on the current

if you only have
one anchor.

A boat this big
always carries two.

Must have lost
their stern hook.

LAPD.

Anybody on board?

Son of a bitch.

Where would one stow
their aft anchor?

Right in there.

Not there.

I'm going to need
some twine

or some heavy gauge
fishing line,

duct tape, flashlight.

Put it in something
I can carry.

After you drop me off,
head around to the point

and stay out of sight.

Make a sat phone call
to this number--

Lieutenant Billets.

Tell her I've got a suspect
under surveillance

and I'm requesting
backup and air support.

You don't even know
where this guy is.

I know he's coming back.

Can I borrow your lid?

Tell me
about the night of.

We pull up.
Jesse's driving.

The Cadillac.

Caddy, yeah.
Jesse loves 'em.

You boosted it?

Happy to cop
to grand theft auto

if you want to drop
the rest of the beef.

Go on.

...about the night of.

We pull up. Jesse's driving.

The Cadillac.

Caddy, yeah.
Jesse loves 'em.

You boosted it?

Happy to cop
to grand theft auto

if you want to drop
the rest of the beef.

Go on.

...about the night of.

We pull up. Jesse's driving.

The Cadillac.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fuck!

Fucking low-tech
old-school bullshit.

And you bought it.

Have crims secure Dobbs'
boat when it gets in.

Moore's already
working on the warrant.

I found traces of blood

and a tactical knife
stowed under a seat cushion.

Same kind of one
was used on Sharkey.

Ah. Copy that.

Listen, Harry, go do
your FID statement.

I got them to agree

that the walk-through
can wait till tomorrow.

Maddie has been calling
every five minutes.

What if you'd been killed?

I did my best to minimize

the possibility
of that happening.

But still--

What if anything,
Maddie?

Didn't happen.

It could.

Some cops go
their entire career

without ever firing
their weapon on the job.

And then there's you.

Not gonna happen.
Don't worry.

How'd
your tournament go?

We got crushed.
Sunnyvale VC.

They were
freakishly huge.

I'm sorry.

It's what it is.

No amount of practice
makes you taller.

Ho, ho, ho.

Mom.

You weren't supposed
to be here until Christmas.

You want me to go back?

No way.

Aw.

God, I missed you.

And you're taller.

Do not go down that road.

Where are you
and Reggie staying?

Somewhere swanky,
with a pool, I hope.

Reggie's in Shanghai.

I actually hoped
I could stay here.

No problem.

What's Reggie
doing in Shanghai?

Where have you been?

The Billets' house.
Long, long story.

Jerry got shot.

Harry had to
chase the suspect

on to an island--

Okay, it's 3 a.m.
on a school night.

- Mom.
- She's right. It's bedtime.

I'll stay out here.
Your mom can have my room.

That story can wait.

- No, I could sleep out here.
- Really?

This is coming from a woman

who made me spend $3,000
on a new mattress

the last time she moved in?

No.

Come say good night?

Of course.

Is Jerry okay?

He will be.

Look, if this is awkward,

tomorrow I can get an AirBnb

till I find
a permanent place.

You're here for good?

I guess I am, yeah.

Where is Reggie,
really?

Okay. You don't want
to talk about it.

Not tonight.

Thanks, Harry.

The way I'm hearing it,

you went full
Jason Bourne on that rock.

Every joint
in my body aches.

Sorry I couldn't
be there for Dobbs.

No, you're aren't.
You get seasick, remember?

When they kicking you
loose?

Tomorrow, maybe.

Anything I can do for you?

Nah.

Harry, we need to talk.

About what?

In person.

You gonna tell me
you're gonna retire?

Face-to-face.

Okay.

I'll swing by.

All right.

I represent the estate

of the recently deceased
John Caffrey."

John Caffrey.

Detective Bosch.

Mrs. Niese,
I was coming to see you.

No. Got me out of the house.

Here's just a few of his
personal belongings

he left behind
at the shelter.

They didn't know
where to send them.

Dune.

Tommy loved the sandworms.

Christ, I thought
he pawned this.

It was my dad's.

You find who did it,
Detective?

We did, yeah.

You kill him?

No.

But somebody else did.

You have my card
if you need anything.

Yes, I do.

Yeah.

Right this way.

You reliving
your glory years, Bosch?

I maybe saw Malibu once,
growing up,

from the window of a bus.

Caffrey sent it to me.

From the grave?

Sort of. Lawyer.

Instructions
in the event of death.

Why would Caffrey send you
his high school yearbook?

Don't know.
It's not his, either.

Nobody named Caffrey
in it.

Well, before you get
too hung up,

where are we
on Trevor Dobbs?

Just finishing up the filing
package for the DA.

Ventura's got him
on a bus to L.A. County.

- Why?
- Dobbs' lawyer called.

His client
wants to talk to you.
Wants to clear things up.

That'll be a neat trick.

Make sure you get
audio for the jury.

If Mr. Dobbs
is guilty of anything,

it is of possessing money

that has not even
been reported stolen.

That is the total of his
involvement in this matter.

He cannot be
held responsible

for the actions of two
contract employees

who took it upon themselves

to rip off some warlord
in Afghanistan.

He killed
or ordered the deaths

of William Meadows,
Cornell Jackson,
Xavi Moreno,

and Thomas Niese,
a 16-year-old boy

who never posed
any threat to them.

Oh, bullshit.

That is fucking
ridiculous.

That is a wild allegation,
Detective,

and you have no proof
of any of it--

no proof that Xavi Moreno
is even dead.

In fact, he's the one you
should be out looking for.

He's on a beach
somewhere in Mexico

while you falsely charge a war
hero and an innocent man.

Why'd your client try
to kill me on the island?

I didn't know
who was hunting me.

You might've been Xavi.

Sounds like you knew
what he was up to.

Detective, we came to you
today in good faith.

How'd you know I'd work lateral
and come in above you?

I'd have done the same.

It was the tactically
sound move.

Hmm.

And suckered me
into those trip lines.

Calculated risk.

The longer it went,
the less I liked
my chances.

Where's the stern anchor?

The what?

From your boat.

I'm guessing
it's at the bottom

of the Pacific somewhere,

half the chain wrapped
around Xavi Moreno's neck.

Again,

that is a completely
unfounded assertion.

We found blood
in the deck seams.

Match that to Moreno,

and maybe we've got
a no body case,

maybe we don't.
We'll see.

We'll see.

Know what your biggest
mistake was, Dobbs?

Keeping the knife.

It was hidden
under the seat cushion.

Oh...

Hmm.

It's not mine.

News to me.

The lab took it apart
this morning.

They found blood
under the pivot screw.

Seeped in there where
you can't clean it out.

If that blood turns out
to be Sharkey's,

it's "Adios,
motherfucker" for you.

That's
not my fucking knife.

That was Xavi's.

Was?

Doesn't matter
whose it was.

It's who has it.

That's you.

You still have to explain

why it was on your boat
in your possession

when Xavi Moreno
is supposedly

on a beach
somewhere in Mexico.

Yeah.

Anything else you want
to clear up, counselor?

Mr. Dobbs?

Didn't think so.

You know...

there's nothing worse

than a leader who betrays
his own troops.

In country,
that gets you

the death penalty
right there.

But to kill
a 16-year-old boy.

For what?

I'm going to make sure

you live
the rest of your life

in the black echo.

You said you know
who killed her.

He called himself Mitch.

It's the only name
I ever knew him by.

The registers
are in the back,

in the cabinets.

Mitch.

"Fox Mitchell"
was an alias, okay?

He was a snitch.

You've tied Epperson
to your mother's murder?

I was afraid
I would find you here.

Been a month without it.

Talk to me, Bosch.

I should've fucking known.

Arno Epperson,
AKA Fox Mitchell.

The man who murdered
your mother.

Or so I thought.

I mean,
I knew he was protected

by the department
or somebody

who had power
over the department.

Bradley Walker.
He and Arno were tight.

The Police Commission
president?

His father more or less
ran the City Council

for three decades.

Why would
Bradley Walker's father

run interference

and protect Epperson
on a murder?

It doesn't make any sense
that he would take that risk,

not for his son's
fuck-up friend.

I know.

I had it wrong.

You had what wrong?

It was the other way around.

It was all about
protecting Bradley.

And Arno Epperson
was part of it.

You're saying Bradley Walker
killed your mother?

I'm saying
this isn't over.

I'm going to find out.

Hello.

So.

You decided to return
my property.

Nice of you
after a year and a half.

Well, the case has been
under investigation.

I needed to hang on to it
a little longer.

Oh, you return it now,
so case solved.

- Still working it.
- Oh.

Hey, I remember you
telling me

that you were an employee
here since back in '79?

Summer of '69,
to be exact.

I want you to look
at some pictures.

Mm. No.

Can't say as I ever
seen him before.

You sure?

I'm not
a hundred percent sure.

I mean,
it's a long time ago.

How about these?

Hmm. Mm-mm. Mm-mm.

Mm-mm.

Oh, yeah. Him.

Who could forget
that cocky mug?

He used to come here.
I remember.

Chevy convertible.
Party boy.

The pay-to-play girls.

I had to tell him
to keep it down
more than a few times.

When?

Oh, uh, same time:

late seventies, eighties.

But not
with this other guy?

No, no. He was straight.

He liked the loose girls

with the loose legs,
loose morals.

No, I-- I didn't
mean it that way.

I mean, like, did these
two run together.

Not that I remember.

But he rented rooms?

Yep.

That's what we're here for.

His name's
not in the book.

Oh, back then,
if people paid cash,

I never asked them
too many questions.

They could write down "Ronnie
Reagan" for all I cared--

and some of them did.

Nowadays, everybody wants
to pay with plastic.

Oh, I check the IDs on that.

Thanks.

Yeah.

All right.

Walker and Epperson
knew each other.

What does it mean?

It means I had it wrong.

I have a guy.

He identifies Walker

as a regular
at the City Center Hotel,

the place my mother went
the night she was murdered.

My guy doesn't ID Epperson.

But Epperson's alias,
Fox Mitchell,

turns up repeatedly
in the guest register.

- And?
- Walker and Epperson

were asshole buddies
since high school.

There's no reason to think

that they weren't still
hanging out in their 20s.

Walker knows
about Epperson's life

as an LAPD-protected
snitch with an alias.

He uses Epperson's alias
to rent rooms

at the City Center Hotel

for liaisons
with prostitutes.

So Walker
killed your mother now?

That's your theory?

Do you have any idea
how you sound?

I do. But that yearbook
came from Caffrey.

RHD says

Caffrey was the target
of the arson at River Watch.

Somebody wanted
to wipe him out

and whatever he had
in that apartment.

But his lawyer
had the yearbook.

Yeah. And Caffrey kept

a copy of my mother's
murder book somewhere else,

somewhere safe.

And RHD found it.

So, what do you
want me to do, Bosch?

Call RHD. Tell them

you've taken a personal
interest in the case

and ask for a briefing.

When they mention finding
my mother's murder book,

ask for a copy.

I'll take it from there.

You want me to help you
conduct a secret investigation

of the man who is scheduled
to pin the stars on my collar.

Don't you want to know
if that man's a murderer?

I got Daddy's bag.

I called it.
It's not fair.

Jack, you're bigger.
Be bigger.

- Ohh. Thank you.
- Mm-hmm.

Mom, can we open the Chee-tos?

- Yes.
- No.

Don't spoil your lunch.

You gonna be okay here
by yourself?

I could get Willis to come

and stay with you
for a couple of days.

Willis? It'd be me
taking care of him.

Tell me you're going
to quit, Jerry.

Take your pension.
Call it a day.

What else would I do?

I don't know.
Sell houses.

Get your Masters.

Watch your boys grow up.

I will. Don't worry.

I like my job.

I'm good at it.

Yeah.

I know you are.

So you go back.

Does that mean going back

to partner with Harry Bosch?

Let's take a walk.

I'll pretend it's exercise.

It's not like poker
is exactly aerobic.

Find a place to live yet?

Everything's so expensive.

We may need you
to move back to Vegas.

Bullshit.

You need to bring me in
all the way.

That was our deal
when you asked for my help.

The Director
is extremely happy

with what you've
accomplished.

You are in,

but in an outside
kind of way.

For how much longer?

How's Reggie?

I don't like keeping
secrets from him

or Maddie, or Harry Bosch,
for that matter.

Look, Jay, I got you
what you wanted.

We're greedy bastards.
What can I say?

You can say "Welcome back
to the Bureau, Agent Wish."

Give me a desk and a badge.

Soon.

I forgot what assholes
you guys really are.

Caffrey kept it
in a safe deposit box.

Extortion?

RHD thinks so.

17 months ago,

Caffrey started making deposits
in his bank account--

5,000 in cash every month,
source unknown.

Right after I went to him
about Fox Mitchell.

Yes.

So Caffrey sends me

in the wrong direction
after Epperson,

turns around,
extorts Walker--

"Pay up or I give
Bosch the true story"--

Walker gets tired
of paying.

All theory, no evidence.

If there's evidence...

I'll find it.

Call me when you do.

Where's Mom?

I don't know.

Dad, we need
to go to the store.

The fridge is bare.

Okay, make a list.
I'll take care of it.

Mom is even worse
about it than you are.

How did you two
ever survive?

Why do you think I know all
the best takeout places?

What are you doing?
I thought you solved that.

I did.

There might be
somebody else.

Just checking.

What?

Must be hard,

going through that again.

Not really.

Ancient history.

Toronto 105-94.

L-T.

Hey,
you going stir-crazy yet?

No.

I'm good.

Look, um,
has Bosch talked to you

about this latest rabbit
hole he's going down?

He's been dodging my calls.

What now?

Of course I want you there.

We just need to be discreet.

There is nothing inappropriate
about this relationship.

I know that. It's just--

Would you
excuse me for a moment?

This won't take long.

Hmm. Of course.

- Bosch.
- Back in '79,

Caffrey got called
to City Hall

to brief a councilman--
Bradley Walker Sr.--

on my mother's case
alone.

It's in Caffrey's copy
of the investigative

chronology, not in the
official murder book.

Is there a summary report
on the briefing?

No, nothing.

The murder book
was sanitized

after Caffrey
met with Walker.

As I've said, this isn't
proof of anything.

The mayor,
city council members,

they ask for briefings
all the time.

Walker Senior's name
in the book

doesn't add up
to extortion or murder.

It's Walker.
I know it. You know it.

Otherwise, Caffrey wouldn't
have sanitized the record.

I suggest you stand down,
Detective,

and see where Bennett
and Pell go with it.

They'll never
get close to him.

It starts with Walker,

then you trace it
back to the torch,

not the other way around.

Bosch,
this is not your case.

It's been my case
since I was 12 years old.

Did you ask Bennett and Pell

for regular updates?

I did.

Let me know
what you know, Chief.

Do that, and I'll
keep you out of this.

Bosch?

Morning.

Morning.

Am I taking Maddie
to school, or are you?

She's driving.
I'm closing my eyes.

I heard that.

How's the house hunt?

I've got four appointments
this morning.

Of course, if there's
anything I like,

I'm gonna run it
by you, Maddie.

Why?

If we're going to live there,
I want you to have a say.

I live here.

Are you gonna eat that cold?

Mom, you have Reggie.

Harry's alone.

Live wherever you want.
I'll come and visit,

but I'm gonna stay with Dad.

What have you done
with my daughter?

You're looking in the mirror.

- That's harsh.
- Not at all.

I wouldn't have it
any other way.

Hell.

Things are so...

It's probably better
that she stays with you.

Why?

Eleanor.

What's going on with you?

What happened in Hong Kong?

Powers,
you volunteer for this?

I did, yeah.

They got a bunch of us,
taking shifts.

I may just learn
to like you yet.

Jerry.

Harry.

Hey.
I didn't hear the door.

Oh. Your security
let me in.

Yeah. Uh...

I can't bring myself
to tell them to go home.

And thank you.

Shit, you didn't have to.

Everybody's
droppin' stuff off

like I died or something.

How you feeling?

On the mend,

staying ahead of the pain.

Working a case
on your down time?

Uh, no, not really.

You catch a new one?

Still writing up Dobbs.

Jimmy Robertson brought me

the Rudy Tafero interview.

Why would he
bring you that?

You tell me.

I'm good.

How'd you know they were
driving a Cadillac?

What are you talking about?

When Rudy flipped

and you led him
through the story,

you slipped.

You asked if the Cadillac
they were in was stolen.

Yeah, so?

How'd you know
it was a Caddy?

It wasn't in the video
that was sent to the Times.

They stole it for that job,
and somehow you knew.

You said Cadillac
before Rudy.

You knew
what they were driving.

What are you doing here,
Jerry?

You sent that video
to the Times.

You had cameras on Gunn.

I was on my way to see
Mark Taylor about it

when I got shot.

You found the camera
in the kitchen.

You got the murder on video?

It would turn this
into a slam.

Cameras inside were dead.

But not outside,
where it got them
going up and in.

The Cadillac's
not in the shot, Harry.

Don't tell me you sat there

and just watched
the Tafero brothers pull up

and go in and kill him.

Oh, man, Harry.

We do what we have to do.

What the fuck does that mean?

Holland's a monster.

So was Gunn.

The Taferos--

We took them all
off the chart, Jerry.

They'll never hurt
anybody again.

But not like that,
brother, not like that.

What has happened to you?

Don't you see
we can't be like them?

I'm not so sure anymore.

Two weeks ago, you didn't
want to be my partner.

Now I'm not so sure
I can be yours.

We pleaded and begged
and bided our time,

and in the end we got the man
we wanted from day 1

to lead our police department

through the difficult
times ahead.

Policing an American city

has never been
more difficult

or more scrutinized,

relations with the community

the department
protects and serves

never more strained.

The example
of how we go forward

and build bridges
of trust and equal justice

will be set from the top down,

and I can think of no
better man for the job

than Irvin Irving.

I ask Mayor Ramos to join me

as we put the stars
on Chief Irving's collar.

Congratulations, Irving.

I knew you'd come around.

Thank you, Mr. Mayor.

**

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