All language subtitles for Bosch.S06E07.1080p.WEB.H264-iNSiDiOUS

So when does Kennedy
lower the boom?

We're meeting with Chandler
this morning.

She'll be looking
to renegotiate.

Won't she be surprised.

This Three Oh Eight video
that dropped last night...

Nothing to worry about
in my view.

They're still persons of
interest in the Craver murder.

Got to follow every lead.

Tread lightly with these people.

Yes, sir.

He'll never do it. I know him.

- You said he was practical.
- Pig-headed.

It can't trace back to me.

You can use Stan's.

Chandler will try
to get this suppressed.

Her chances?

Slim to none.

- It's Honey Chandler.
- Speak of the devil.

Send her in, please.

We went by the book.
The tape will hold up.

"Conspiracy supersedes consent."

Please don't stand
on my account.

- May I? For the record?
- Go ahead.

Three days ago, Clifford Maxwell
was killed by the FBI

as they attempted
to take him into custody

for the murder of Stanley Kent.

- We won't revisit the plea deal.
- Not asking you to.

Mrs. Kent is ready
to accept the plea

and proceed immediately
to sentencing.

In fact, we're pulling it.

- I'm sorry?
- The plea agreement.

We're pulling it.

We have new evidence
that your client

has been less than truthful
in her proffer.

We're filing additional charges
against her

for the murder of her husband.

What new evidence?

Come on, don't be coy.
I'll get it in discovery.

We have Alicia Kent on tape
planning her husband's murder

with her lover,
FBI Agent Clifford Maxwell.

Hey, uh, everybody?

Guys? Ladies?
Let's raise our glass.

A toast to Ryan Rodgers.

- Ho!
- Ho! That's right, a Native Son of the Golden West.

As Ryan-o liked to say,

you know, besides
his drop-dead good looks,

he had something else in common
with Robert Redford,

he was born and raised
in the San Fernando Valley.

You know, back when it was still
orange groves and lemon trees,

and woolly mammoths roamed
the Earth... that kind of thing.

As a cop, he bled blue,

as his many awards and citations
for valor will attest.

As a homicide detective,
he distinguished himself

with his dogged dedication
to the victims

and his tenacity
in pursuing the perpetrators.

But above all,
as a comrade and a friend,

Ryan Rodgers always had
another tall tale to tell,

was always good
for another round and always,

always...

always had your back.

To Ryan Rodgers,
big man, big heart.

- Ryan-o!
- Ryan-o!

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

LAPD's finest.

There's a reason
all these old-school guys

are here to celebrate your dad.

Besides free drinks?

Yeah.

Ryan Rodgers was a cop's cop.

- Everybody mattered.
- Except us.

That's not true, Melissa.

You and your mother
are what mattered most of all.

Your dad just went
through a rough patch.

Oldest story in the book.

The family takes the hit,
always.

Chief.

Chief.

Melissa.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

Thank you for coming.
Dad would have been pleased.

He was a real credit
to the department.

- I considered him a friend.
- But when the job

was getting to be
too much for him,

you exiled him
to Pacific Division.

That's not how it happened.

Final straw, graveyard shift.

Broke up their marriage.

He was more distant,
more isolated than ever.

You should know,

your father volunteered
for the late show.

Why would he do that?

To shield his family
from what troubled him.

By cutting himself off from us?

It didn't work.

Barrel?

- Hey.
- Hi.

Uh, I'm sorry about earlier.

No, you're entitled.

Pitch a fit, you feel like it.

- Thanks again, for everything.
- Ah...

Just happy I could be here, give
him the send-off he deserves.

We loved him.

I know you did.

Uh, I found this
in Dad's safe deposit box.

"Interview with I.F., 08/18/96."

Who's I.F.?

No idea. No idea why he kept it.

Have you listened to it?

How? Who's got
a cassette player?

Uh, I do.

Thought you might.

I'm curious what's on it.

- I'll give it a listen.
- No rush.

Okay.

You need anything,
don't you hesitate to holler.

- Thank you.
- All right.

- What am I looking for?
- Johns who answered online ads.

Names, e-mails, photos, videos.

So get the server to run
a list of responders.

Backpage.com.

- Oh. Shit.
- I know.

Founder's in jail,
Feds seized the site.

So you also know that records
from '09 will be long gone.

All right.
Put her over there, pal.

It's a cold case, low priority.

Understood. Whenever.

Yeah, could be months.

Oh. By the way, happy birthday.

It's not my bir...

I'll see what I can do.

My endorsement?

We need to challenge Lopez
on the Westside.

Oh, I like Susanna.

But go on.

As the ranking board member

of the L.A. Trial
Lawyers Association...

Trial lawyers skew left.
We're not prosecutors.

But if the woman who's battled
his department for years

endorses his candidacy...

He must be one
hell of a candidate.

Must be.

Is this coming from you or him?

He'd like to, uh,
meet to discuss it.

Why not?

GPS location points?

For the burner phone
Maxwell sent that photo to.

The one that outed Craver
as a snitch.

These are from the past month.

- Phone was on and off.
- And this big cluster?

Charlie Dax's house.

This one's the nursery?

Correct. Where Dax's wife works.

Kids' school, Travis Strout's
house, Waylon Strout's shop.

Got to be Dax's burner.

What about the night
Craver was murdered?

Nothing on the night,

but the phone was
in Craver's neighborhood

several times the week before.

We need Dax's DNA.

What?

Well, the tape's fake.
It has to be.

I never said anything
about killing Stan.

Did you ever say anything
to anyone

that could be construed
as a death threat?

Never.

Cliff and I talked about
different scenarios,

how things would go.

He could have doctored the tape.

We'll have a forensics expert
go over it.

But I thought that in
the state of California...

Come in.

- Sorry to interrupt.
- That's okay.

Okay, thanks, Maddie.

- You were saying?
- I thought that in the state of California,

both parties have to consent
to being recorded.

He recorded me in secret
without my consent.

We'll make that clear
in pretrial.

Don't worry, there are weak
links in every prosecution.

Listen, Dax, we've
spent way too many resources...

I don't give a fuck.

I'm staying clear of it.

If you're smart, you will, too.

It's all right.

Pizza police.

I got 'em both, just in case.

Hey.

Do you know where Mank keeps
his private stock?

No.

That stuff on the pod rack
could drive a man to milk.

Uh, Captain, probably
something I should mention.

What's that?

It's probably nothing,

but with HR protocol
and whatnot...

Sure.

My partner's been talking
to me about Lieutenant Billets.

What about Billets?

You know I.T.

She's a warm person,
which is fine with me.

But I guess it makes my partner
a little uncomfortable.

The handsy stuff.

Right. Boundaries.
Personal space.

It's probably nothing, right?

But Vega mentioned it
more than once,

so I felt I had to
say something.

Because if I don't,
and it was something, well...

Appropriate you brought it
to me, Pierce.

See something, say something.

- I didn't really see anything.
- Of course.

Between us. Not to worry.

Hey.

Brenner gonna bitch about you

expediting that
through your lab?

He's just praying Craver's
killer's anybody but Maxwell.

I have Heather Strout's DNA
on that waiver she signed

with a bloody thumbprint;
I'll have it checked, too.

Thanks.

I heard the D.A. pulled
Alicia Kent's plea.

Maxwell's tape
blew up her story.

You okay?

Looks like a desk is my future.

Nah, you'll be back in action.

Even the Bureau isn't that dumb.

They are, but thanks
for keeping the faith.

I appreciate it.

- Harry?
- Yeah?

Never mind.

Detective Ryan Rodgers, LAPD,

interviewing... state your name.

Beto Frank.

August 28, 1996.

Mr. Frank, you are
a Police Academy cadet.

Is that correct?

Yes, sir.

And you were
arrested tonight on Virgil Avenue,

11:30 p.m., passenger
in a Pontiac Trans Am.

That's correct, sir.

Gary's murder's getting lost.
It's all about Marcos and Arias.

This thing with Hovan
will pay off.

Just need to give it time.

Yeah, you keep saying that.

You gonna get Avril
on some bullshit

money laundering charge.

That's what you're
worried about?

I'll never get justice
for my son.

Eyewitness said Jamaicans
shot Gary.

You got a Jamaican C.I.
Why don't you use him?

That's Hovan's C.I.,
so Hovan calls the shots.

I call bullshit.

Hovan's frustrated, too.

I'm beyond frustrated.

Done with the waiting game,
Jerry.

So you know.

We-we were just riding.

You were just riding
with three known gangbangers,

Cadet Beto Frank?

Or should I say ex-cadet,
as of a few hours ago?

I made a mistake in judgment.

You think? A drive-by shooting?

I didn't know
that was gonna happen.

You were in the car, son.

Detective Rodgers.

Lieutenant.

Turn off the tape.

Whew, those don't make you cry?

My superpower.

You saw Alex Sands again.

I did.

They were running a scam.

Blackmail.

Johns compromised.

Underage girls, so on.

Jesus.

I didn't know.

You think one of the johns
killed Daisy?

A place to start.

I swear to God, Harry,
I didn't know.

Well, now that you do,

I mean, is there anything
she said or-or did

that makes sense in retrospect?

No.

I don't think so.
Not that I remember.

I can't believe
that they would...

Stupid fucking kids, man.

- I looked up your record.
- Oh, yeah?

Solid.
A few dings along the way.

You know any cop worth a damn
that doesn't?

Congrats, by the way,
on that truce in Boyle Heights.

Right place, right time.

Both sides were ready
to quit banging.

How'd you get your hands
on that interview?

Right place, right time.

That was the worst night
of my life.

I thought I was done
before I even got started.

That would have killed my dad.
You know my dad?

Assistant Chief Bill Frank?

No, I never had the pleasure.

Anglo, obviously.

My mom, Dolores Marquez,
Chicana.

I came up with a foot
in both worlds.

So that night, you left behind
the Academy,

your mom, your pop.

You went cruising
with three gangbangers

on a drive-by.

Guys I grew up with.
To a party, not a drive-by.

I had no idea it was gonna
go down like that.

But you should have.

I should have.
I was a knucklehead.

Rodgers was ready to
ring me up on the spot.

Yeah. Your career was finished
then and there.

But then, Lieutenant Irving
comes in, stops the interview,

pulls you out...

How'd he know to come get you?

I don't know.
That was a long time ago.

I think you do.

I think you know
your dad called Irving

and told him to shut it down.

Chief Irving
made a judgment call.

Saved my life.

And I made very fucking sure
I've never done anything since

to make him regret
that decision.

How do you spell that?

Okay. Thanks.

Got the bullet back
that killed Craver finally.

The chemical residue?

Imidacloprid.
It's a neonicotinoid.

You're having
way too much fun with this.

Insecticide. Used in nurseries.

We should call Angel City,
see if they use it.

Feds already did.

And they do.

One more piece of the puzzle.

Starting to look like something.

Hey there.

Hey. Is that the,
uh, notorious knee brace

from when he T-boned
Crate and Barrel?

Fucking Powers.

Kamikaze behind the wheel.

I'm not saying
he milked it, but, uh...

- But?
- Well, I mean, he's limping around here

for months like he's
Walter Brennan, you know?

Wagon Train?

Red River.
Wagon Trainwas Ward Bond.

Oh, right.

Don't blame Powers
for pulling the plug.

He got lucky this time.
Nearly nicked

- his femoral artery.
- Cop life turns on a dime.

Sergeant Edgewood.
Hey, Mank, how's it going?

Well, you ever walk barefoot
on Bubble Wrap?

Yeah. That kind of crazy fun.

You got a minute?

Yeah.

Operation Safe Sidewalks?

- The homeless thing.
- The chief's homeless thing.

I'm running it here at Division.

Nice. Congrats, I.T.

Yeah. I'm looking for
a number two.

Um, somebody with experience
on the street,

especially narcotics.

Like a sergeant level.

Fluent in Hollywood.

Know anybody like that?

I might.

You think he might
be interested?

It's a big change.

Well, make sure he understands
it's a chance to build something

from the ground up.

I will. Lieutenant.

Hey.

Yeah?

Irving goes into that
Beto Frank interview,

an I.T. marking time
in narcotics.

Six months later, he's in RHD

on a fast track to command.

Guess who was Special Operations
assistant chief at the time?

I don't need to guess,
I REMEMBER: Bill Frank.

You think that opportunity
jump passes the smell test?

Irving would've
got there anyway.

One way or another.

Look, it's not like cronyism

isn't baked into
the department's DNA.

He made the right call
at the time.

Look at Beto Frank's record.

If he'd been nipped in the bud,

department would've lost
a good cop.

I know.

Still, the optics suck.

The chief can't take
a political hit like this,

- not now.
- No.

Tell her...

your cassette player
ate the tape?

I can't do that.

- Fuck.
- Yeah. Fuck.

We looked into the Clayton case
'cause most of the details

matched the Backseat Butcher.

How many holdbacks did you have?

Two. One was a splash
of pig's blood

- outside the car...
- And the other?

Symbol, drawn on a nearby wall.

- In the victim's blood.
- Yours, too?

- Like a diamond, with legs.
- Mm-hmm.

It's a rune... signifies
inheritance and heritage.

The Nazis used it.

What'd it mean for the Butcher?

Who knows?

Maybe he just liked
signing his kills with it.

Daisy Clayton
was working a badger game

with her boyfriend.

Could one of her johns
have known about the holdbacks?

Not unless he was part
of my task force.

- You vet your team?
- Yeah.

All my guys volunteered
for a polygraph.

They all passed.

You lifted a print off her skin.
A-a partial.

Yeah. Off her cheek.

It was still a new process,
experimental.

Wouldn't hold up in court.

Everything indicates
he wore gloves, used a condom.

This shrink from
behavioral science,

her take was
he took off a glove,

held the vic's mouth
when he slashed her throat.

Like he wanted to feel
her last breath.

Sick fucks, both of 'em.

However I can help you to catch
this copycat, let me know.

So how are things with Avril?

You tell me.

He's a sly one.

So are you.

I'm doing the best I can.

You ain't doing shit.

That him talking?

I need the Jakes who killed
Marcos and Arias.

- Man, I been digging!
- Dig deeper.

And do it quick.
Or I pull the plug on you.

You need me.

You got that backwards, bro.

We done here? I got a date.

Winston?

Done.

Clock is ticking.

Yeah, I hear that.

Last year,
when I interned at the D.A.'s office,

there was a cold case
that got reopened.

CIU claimed that my dad
had planted evidence.

I don't see your father
doing that.

That's a line he wouldn't cross.
Ever.

But I did.

You planted evidence?

I crossed a line.

I snooped through a file
on somebody's desk.

Saw a letter about my dad.
I took a picture of it.

I sent it to his lawyer.

Honey Chandler.

Whoa. That's complicated.

Please don't say karma.

Never crossed my mind.

Crossed mine.

I wouldn't call it karma.

What would you call it?

Just plain old
conflict of interest.

Hey.

Look, it's nothing
to beat yourself up about.

This is the latest ATF inventory
of Charlie Dax's guns.

Done five years ago.

The one in yellow:

Smith & Wesson M&P Shield.

Same caliber as the gun
that killed Craver.

This is a recent FBI inventory
of his weapons.

Done after the shoot-out
at the Strout house.

So, no Smith & Wesson Shield.

No. Could've sold it
in the interim.

No sales receipt?

What about the DNA
on Craver's shirt?

- Still waiting.
- Well, lost, stolen or sold,

he's required to report it.

I'm sure he has
a good explanation.

Let's hear it.

Mrs. Dax? Detective Bosch.

Detective Edgar, LAPD.
Is your husband home?

Charlie, cops.
What do you want to do?

Tell you what I don'twant to do.

Give them any excuses.
Let them in.

Thank you.

You gonna show me a warrant,
like you did Waylon?

Just want to ask you a few
questions about your inventory.

Guns are in the garage.

Feds did a whole new inventory
the other day,

after they killed
my brother-in-law.

They didn't send you a copy?

You ever use a burner phone?

Have I ever purchased a legal,
prepaid phone? Yes.

Look familiar?

I got sent that picture
out of the blue.

Thought it was a prank.

Had no idea who the guy
with Craver was.

Then at the nursery,
there he is.

Fucking Fed in my face.

Special Agent Cliff Maxwell.

Craver really his snitch?

He was.

Show this picture to anyone?

No. And when I found out
Craver was dead,

I deleted it.
What'd you want to see?

Smith & Wesson M&P Shield.

You know I don't have it.

Came up missing after the Feds
did their "inventory."

What a surprise.

- You didn't report it.
- Didn't see the fucking point.

The point is, it's the law.

Your law. Not mine.

- Maxwell lead the search party?
- What do youthink?

You gonna say that Craver
was killed

with the Smith & fucking Wesson
that you people took from me?

That I did it?

No. We're done.

This... this has been bullshit
from start to finish.

None of this has anything
to do with me.

Or the Strouts or the
Three Oh Eight sovereigns.

You want to know why
we're so pissed

at the state of the government?

Look in the fucking mirror.

Maxwell set him up.

Why steal the Smith & Wesson
during the search?

Last piece of the puzzle.

Disappear the gun,
puts Dax looking guiltier.

I am somewhat surprised
you agreed to meet with me.

How could I pass up
the opportunity?

For what?

To find out why you'd trade

one of the most powerful jobs
in Los Angeles

to be mostly miserable
in City Hall.

So much of what I do now
involves cleaning up the mess

politicians create
with their policies.

Save me the stump speech.

All right.

But it's the truth.

Chief, I hope you win.

I look forward to your successor

taking LAPD back
to the old ways,

when my business thrived.

I think my reforms will stand.

If you honestly believe

you can accomplish more as mayor
than you can as chief...

- I do.
- I'll endorse that.

And you.

Hell, I'll even write
a check to your campaign.

You will?

Absolutely.

What's the catch?

No catch.

Detective Vega. Come in.

Close the door.

I heard there might be
a problem.

Lieutenant Billets?

No, sir. Not with me.

I.T.'s great. Ask anybody.

Asking you. Heard she
made you uncomfortable.

That would be
an overstatement, sir.

Afraid of blowback, Detective?

Department has your back.

No, sir, really, I...

Will go no further
than this room.

Anything you say.

You have my word.

I may have vented,
to my partner.

I've been having
some personal issues and, uh,

I may have overreacted.

Home front. Always a pickle.

Well. Long as you've got
a handle on it.

I do, sir. I'm sorry
if anyone misunderstood.

Glad we could talk.

Now go solve a case or two.

Or three.

Yeah?

- You got a sec?
- Oh, of course.

Alicia Kent?

Yes.

Look, Maddie,
different cases are sequestered

- in law offices all the time.
- I know.

But given what I did for you
last year

while on my dad's case,
I think it's gonna be awkward

having me around
while he's on the other side.

You're sure?

Yeah.

I'm disappointed,
but I understand.

Thanks. For everything.

Absolutely.

Hey, you change your mind,
you're welcome back any time.

Plans for the night?
Or monk-like solitude?

More like Thelonious Monk. You?

Jerry.

DNA from Craver's shirt.

Saliva.

Travis Strout.

Strout killed Craver.
Then spit on him.

What you do to a snitch.

Dax lied about not showing
the other sovereigns

the picture
that Maxwell sent him.

And Travis Strout took the bait.

I can't decide. Bob Mitchum?

Or Bogart and Bacall?

Mitchum. Excellent choice.

That's a very underrated actor.

You know, Mitchum put
the "I" in "laconic."

- Hello.
- Hi, Barrel.

Melissa Rodgers.

- How you holding up?
- Okay. You know.

I do.

I was curious
what's on that tape.

It was nothing.

It was in his safe deposit.
It must be something.

Well, maybe at the time
he put it in there,

but trust me, Melissa,
now he'd want you to let it go.

Okay, well,
should I come pick it up,

or can you drop it in the mail?

You know, I checked on
your dad's transfer to Pacific.

He did put in
for that midnight shift.

Chief had nothing
to do with that.

If you say so.

Tape's got my father's voice
on it, Barrel.

I'd like it back.

Sure.

Bad news.

How's that?

Felix Mariama?

Real name is Charlie Hovan.

And you brought him to us.

I just learned it.

"Just"?

You're walking into a trap.

That you helped devise.

Why I'm telling you now.

Fucking federal bug.

What do you want me
to do with it?

Uh, put it on the truck.

So, what are you gonna do?

I'm gonna lay low for a while.

Gonna mourn my man.

And then I'll decide.

You sure I can't help?

I got somebody else.

It was my brother they murdered.

And why they'll look
at you first.

E-mails, calendars, text files.

- I sent you a packet.
- Any names?

Screen names, aliases.

You know, e-mail addresses that
are probably no good anymore.

Sands said there was
photos and videos.

Still working on that.

Roots are all fucked up.

Soon as I can.

- How long?
- Weeks, not months.

Just as long
as they're not corrupted.

Making my day.

That's me. Mr. Sunshine.

Thanks, amigo.

Hey.

You're gonna be
seeing more of me.

I'm not complaining, but why?

I quit today.

Too awkward.

I don't blame you.

She said I'm welcome back
any time.

She's a good judge of character.

With everyone she deals with,
she has to be.

I was wondering how long
you'd be okay with that part.

Which part?

You mean defending people
like Dante Crow?

Okay, Mads, look.

Everyone deserves a defense,

but she helps guys like Crow
game the system.

If the system is rigged,
someone has to.

Come on, Mads.
You sound so cynical.

- You mean like you?
- Excuse me?

You know what?

I don't want to have
this conversation tonight.

Okay.

Night.