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I've consulted on cases all over the world...

Bosnia, Kosovo... World Trade Center.

This is a case...

Maybe this boy was better off

leaving this world for a better one.

Do you believe there's a better world than this one?

I do.

When you were picking through

the bones and burnt flesh at the World Trade Center,

that belief work for you then?

As a matter of fact, it did.

In many ways, my faith became stronger.

It helped me deal with all of that.

There must be a better place somewhere.

What else could make sense of this child's torment?

I'm a vet, Doc.

Re-upped after 9/11.

A lot of cops did.

I was with Special Forces, Afghanistan.

We'd go down in these tunnels in these caves.

Pitch-black.

You turned your head lamp off,

and there was this... glow.

"Lost Light" we called it.

It was like it was trapped down there

with the rest of us.

So I don't believe

there's a better world than this one.

I think this is the only one we got,

and it's full of lost light.

It must be very hard to be you...

And do what you do... without faith.

Someone broke nearly every bone in that little boy's body

and then killed him.

I can't let that go.

Bosch - 01x02 Lost Light

sync and correction by solfieri www. addic7ed. com

Need a lift?

No.

I don't think so.

No, thanks.

Okay. It's your loss.

Hey.

Check this guy. What's he up to?

- Nothing. - Nah.

No, I got a feeling about this one.

- Let it go. - Unh-unh.

Come on, man. Let's see what we get.

Come on, man.

Oh, that's a cold plate, partner.

Did you put it incorrectly?

Yeah, man. Light him up.

I'm gonna call it in. Damn.

Fuck.

6 Adam 56.

Following a possible code-37 vehicle,

Eastbound, Sunset and Hobart.

Requesting backup for a felony stop,

possible stolen vehicle.

6 Adam 56, a-19 responding.

Driver, step out of the vehicle now!

- What'd I do? - Turn around.

Hands up.

Walk backwards towards me.

Stop.

Get down on the ground.

Face down now.

You want to tell me what I did?

Wrong plates on the van.

No, no. That's bullshit.

This is my vehicle.

Those are my plates.

If you just check the registration

and my I.D., you'll see.

In that case, you'll be out of here in 10 minutes.

Oh, oh, shit! Hey!

Stay on him. We got a body back here.

Motherfucker's dead, man.

Street wisdom, baby.

Told you this stop would produce.

Ha! Telling you, he was in the van like that.

Like I told Pierce, street wisdom, baby.

He was torturing him.

No, man. That was a rape kit.

¿Que pasa?

George bagged a dude hauling a naked D.B.

with a hood and a taser.

- Just a routine traffic stop. - Nicely done, Officer.

All right, the party's over, gentlemen.

Now get out there and catch your own turds.

I know it was you, Pounds.

Me what, Bosch?

You handed my file off to Chandler.

You're delaminating, Bosch.

I got to tell you... it's been a real pleasure

- watching Chandler expose you for what you are. - Oh, yeah? What's that?

An insubordinate, arrogant know-it-all loner

and all-around self-righteous prick.

You forgot to mention

"refuses to kiss command staff's ass."

That's my favorite.

We don't need cops like you anymore, Bosch.

Put in for your pension, pal.

Your days are fucking numbered.

Sarge. Do you think I'm delaminating?

Beats me, Bosch.

Who isn't?

Sign here.

So... let's start off with an easy one, hmm?

Who's the dead guy in the van?

I don't know. I... I never saw him before.

You mean before you killed him.

I didn't kill him.

Somebody must have put him there.

So you were just driving around,

dead guy in the back of the van... you didn't know?

That's right.

Hmm.

You live in Hollywood.

Correct.

Where were you going?

Echo Park isn't anywhere close to where you live.

No. I drive around and... and hand out fliers

for my business in mailboxes.

You weren't going somewhere just to get rid of the body.

Did you have sex with him?

No. No, I'm not gay.

So we're not gonna find your DNA

all up in his... coozy.

No. Jesus. No. W... why would you think that?

Why would we think that?

I don't know.

This thing.

What is this used for?

Huh. That looks to me

like you would flip that over a guy's head

and choke him out.

Ahh! What do you think?

- I've never seen that before. - Really?

That's funny, because we just found that in your van,

along with a stun gun.

So, how would you do it?

The guy would fasten his seat belt. Then you'd throw that over his head.

He gets a little froggy, starts kicking and screaming.

Then you'd tase him. Is that how it went?

I don't do that. I... I don't do any of that.

Mr. Waits, we're gonna charge you with murder.

So if you have anything to say that'll help clear this up,

now is the time to tell us.

Yeah, sure.

I'll take that lawyer now.

No shit.

Total bail... $2,500.

Broken down... $1,000, resisting without force,

$1,000 for the D.U.I.,

and $500 for the expired driver's license.

Raynard Waits.

Is there anything else before me involving Mr. Aronson?

- No, Your Honor. - That's me.

My name is Ms. Kell. I'm with the public defender's office,

and I'll be representing you in this proceeding.

I want to plead not guilty.

Well, you don't enter a plea tonight.

Uh, the prosecutor will read the charges against you,

and the judge will ask you if you understand those charges.

- You say "yes," and that's it. - And what about bail?

I've got a van, a small business, and some savings.

Your van was impounded as evidence,

and you're charged with murder, Mr. Waits.

A bail will be set at a minimum of $1 million.

A bond's gonna cost you 10% of said bail, non-refundable.

If you had that kind of money, I wouldn't be here.

This is unfair.

I have to get out. I got a business.

- There are people I take care of. - I'm sorry.

I can't stay here. You understand?

Do your fucking job. I got things to do.

Don't we all?

You better get yourself under control when the judge calls your case.

_

The clothes were folded very neatly in the backpack.

Three of everything...

Shirts, pairs of socks, pants, underwear.

- Kid was on his way somewhere. - What's that star-shaped thing?

"San Diego Aquarium."

Now, the brand name on two of the shirts is Solid Surf,

and the backpack has got skateboard straps,

so maybe the kid was into that.

And there's a letter...

Handwritten, ink, pretty bad shape.

We'll dry it out, try some dyes, different lights,

- but don't get your hopes up. - Perfect.

Murdered-kid mystery... press will be all over this.

Look, we don't want this backpack stuff

- in the newspaper, okay? - You got it.

Considering my unofficial status, you want to handle media relations?

"Nothing of value recovered" and blah, blah, blah.

- Not too far from the truth. - Right.

Anything useful from S.I.D.?

Nothing that I.D.'s the kid.

- What time are you due in court? - Couple hours.

Can you give us a minute?

Irving called.

He is less than thrilled with what went on in court yesterday.

Tell him he can kick pounds in the balls for leaking my psych eval to Chandler.

He asked me to talk to you.

You don't think it was Pounds?

I think it sucks, but Irving's got a point.

I'm not admitting to shooting an unarmed man.

I didn't.

If Chandler gets paid, she doesn't care what you admit.

Irving says you can end this with no admission of guilt.

- The city will settle. - The money is the admission.

You are a stubborn son of a bitch.

Why you hold me in such high esteem.

Who said that I do?

Look, I'm sorry this stuff came out in court about your mom.

- That was nobody's business. - I'm not ashamed of her.

She had no family, no husband. She did what she had to do to raise me.

This is why I hold you in such high esteem.

Because of who she was and what she did, the cops didn't give a shit.

And that's the reason whoever killed her

is still in the wind. They didn't care.

So maybe Chandler's right.

Maybe, on some subconscious level, I shot Flores to avenge my mother.

I'll pretend I didn't hear that.

As to the plaintiff's motion to exclude testimony

about the evidence collected from Mr. Flores' home

after his death, no testimony concerning Mr. Flores

or his putative guilt or innocence shall be permitted.

Do you wish to cross-examine the witness, Mr. Belk?

Yes, Your Honor. Remember, Harry, "yes" or "no."

Not my first twirl around the dance floor, Counselor.

Good to know.

Detective Bosch, you testified that Mr. Flores

was one of a dozen suspects

- in the investigations into these murders. - Yes.

- Was Mr. Flores the leading suspect? - No.

Did you shoot Mr. Flores because you believed he had killed these three young women?

- No. - Did you shoot Mr. Flores

because you believed that he was a killer of prostitutes?

No.

Did you shoot Mr. Flores to avenge your mother's death?

No.

Detective Bosch, why did you shoot Mr. Flores?

I shot him because I believed he was about to shoot me.

And after you shot him, did you then place a gun in Mr. Flores' hand

- so as to retroactively justify your action? - No.

Was that possibility investigated?

By the L.A.P.D. and the District Attorney's office.

And what did they determine?

That there was no evidence whatsoever that I planted the weapon.

Thank you, Detective.

Ms. Chandler, redirect?

Yes, Your Honor.

Detective Bosch, your partner testified

that you broke L.A.P.D. policy

when you left him to pursue Mr. Flores.

Were you aware of the L.A.P.D. policy

- regarding foot pursuits? - Yes.

Then why did you do it?

It was a tactical decision.

Please expound.

It made sense for one of us to pursue him on foot,

because we believed that he was headed for the Metro,

a belief that was borne out by his subsequent actions.

You consciously violated department policy

in pursuit of a man you did not think was a killer?

Your Honor, asked and answered.

Sustained. Ms. Chandler, is there a question?

One further matter, Detective.

When you saw Mr. Flores enter that alley that night,

why did you pursue him?

Why didn't you cal land wait for backup?

Because of his evasive actions. Entering the alley,

I thought Flores might be on the prowl for a victim.

- I didn't want to lose him. - Weren't you, in fact, hoping

- for a fatal confrontation that night? - No.

Weren't you, in fact, hoping to provoke Mr. Flores

to act in such a way that would justify shooting him?

No.

Weren't you, in fact, convinced, despite your testimony,

that Roberto Flores was the killer of these three prostitutes?

No.

♪ Whoa, I don't pay no income tax ♪

♪ Make too much... ♪

How'd it go?

I held my own, I think.

9-year-old boy.

Nicholas Trent, lewd and lascivious, 1990.

You talked to him on the canvass.

- He didn't make an impression? - Guess he forgot to tell me

he was a convicted child molester.

It was a question, Jerry, not a judgment.

How should we do this?

You take lead.

I may wander.

This is not a good time. I'm late for an appointment.

Mr. Trent, if you knew we'd find out about your past,

why didn't you tell Detective Edgar about it?

It creates suspicion.

You can understand that.

That was 25 years ago. People change.

And the sooner you convince us of that,

the sooner we'll clear you and move on.

Where's a comfortable place we can talk, Mr. Trent?

Right here in the hall is fine.

- You mind if we sit? - My back.

Is it all right with you if I take some notes, Mr. Trent?

I guess so.

Do you have a bathroom I might use, Mr. Trent?

Up the stair sand to the right.

Thank you.

Can we hurry this up, please?

Let's get started.

Mr. Trent, you know you have no obligation

to speak to me today.

Well, if that's so, then why are you sitting in my living room?

Have you ever seen any unusual activity

on the hillside?

Not really. Kids used to play up there.

You watched them play?

What are you insinuating?

Nothing at all, sir.

No, I didn't watch them play.

I stayed away from kids after my trouble.

I'd see them go up the hill when I walked my dog.

Any kids in particular?

No. There were always kids around.

They used to go up there and smoke cigarettes.

We were always worried

that they would set the whole hillside on fire.

We?

The residents. My neighbors and I.

_

That's for my work, Detective.

"Stuff for boys 9 to 12"?

I'm a set decorator. For the movies.

And you have no right to be down here going through my things.

- You don't have a search warrant. - You can see how it might look suspicious

for someone with your history.

It breaks my heart what happened to that little boy.

Do you know what happened to that little boy, Mr. Trent?

No, I don't.

Would you be willing to take a polygraph?

Of course.

I suppose I should call my lawyer.

We need to get a warrant.

It makes my skin crawl. The animal heads?

Does that guy look like a big-game hunter to you?

So we just pull his arrest report,

find out exactly what he did to that kid he molested

and go from there.

Break in the case, Detectives?

You got a suspect?

Is that a "no comment"?

Why not give me 15 words

and forest all the speculation that might result

from interviewing this guy's neighbors.

Mr. Tyler, we're finishing a routine canvass of the neighborhood.

The resident shave been cooperative,

but we have no leads or suspects whatsoever at this time.

That's all I can tell you.

10 minutes, Baker.

And a gruesome development

in the case of a Hollywood man

arrested after police discovered a body

in the back of his van.

According to investigators,

DNA from an undetermined number of other...

Yo, Waits.

Has been collected from the suspect's vehicle.

You're on TV, man.

Police aren't saying yet whether the man, Raynard Waits,

is a suspected serial killer.

In other news, police still

are trying to identify the remains of a boy

discovered last week in Laurel Canyon.

The boy was buried many years ago

in a remote, heavily wooded area,

along with his school backpack.

Anyone who might have information

is asked to contact the Hollywood Police Station

at this number... 323-555-0172.

The lead investigator,

veteran homicide Detective Harry Bosch,

has had legal problems of his own recently.

Here he is coming out of federal court in downtown L.A.

Hollywood units stand by.

6A65 is in foot pursuit

in the area of western and Hollywood, requesting a backup.

Any airship come upon Hollywood frequency?

6A65.

Adam 65, be advised.

I need a perimeter set at sunset on south...

A65, officer needs help. Shots fired.

I repeat... shots fired.

Partner and suspect still outstanding.

Code 4 at our location.

I repeat... code 4 at our location.

Go ahead and notify F.I.D. They'll send somebody out.

- Edge. - Bosch.

- All assholes accounted for? - Yeah.

What happened?

Routine stop.

Passenger rabbits as we're pulling up.

Brasher's out the car with the gun in her hand before I even put it in park.

- Shots fired? - Two.

He threw one on the run over his shoulder. She threw one back.

He tried to throw another, but his pistol a jammed. He gave it up.

- Gonna write her up for tactics? - Got to, man. I'm her T.O.

I know. How's all I'm asking.

I don't know yet.

Let me tell you something, Bosch...

It's not the first time.

Stuck around to cheer me up?

Not one of my strong suits.

I just wanted to return this.

Since you have your sin the back of your car?

Now I'm embarrassed.

I thought it was a cute move.

- Very endearing. - Endearing.

Yeah, in a seventh-grade sort of way.

I'm surprised you didn't punch me in the shoulder and pull my hair.

I thought I'd save that for later.

Julia. See you at the Cat?

Yeah, Kiko.

As soon as I finish with F.I.D.

Wait for me?

How about I buy just you a drink instead?

I don't think you need to be too worried.

Depending on how Edge writes it up.

He said something about not the first time.

He wrote me up a few weeks ago for crossing the tube.

You crossed the tube?

Mm-hmm. It was a domestic.

Husband had locked himself in the bedroom with a .45.

So, Edgewood had a shotgun.

Kiko and I have the door. Kiko kicks it open.

We go in. Guy's passed out on the bed. It seemed like no problem.

And you don't remember getting in front of Edgewood's gun?

Look, if I did, Kiko did, too, and Edgewood didn't say jack to him.

You're the rookie.

Yeah, well, it's not just that.

What else is it?

- It's 'cause I'm a woman. - Come on.

I'm telling you... he has a problem.

I'm just tired of patrol, Harry.

- I'm sick of it. - Four months in?

It feels like we're putting band-aids on bullet holes.

Everybody goes through that.

Look, you want to be a detective, right?

So bad, I can taste it.

There are no shortcuts.

You got to walk before you run.

You mean pay my dues?

Were you trying case sat your daddy's law firm after four months?

Yeah, as a matter of fact, I was.

Okay. Bad example.

Look, first couple of years are tough.

You pick your battles, and it works out.

That's what I did today.

I took some initiative.

Like you've done your whole career.

Yeah, but I'm the notorious insubordinate Harry Bosch.

You're just a salty boot.

I am kind of salty.

I can tell.

Did the assholes run away from you, Harry?

No. You told them to sit down, I bet they sat the fuck down.

Most of the time, they did.

Yeah. They sat the fuck down.

I know they did.

Oh, fuck.

- Oh, am I hurting you? - No, in a good way.

- Should I stop? - Immediately.

Mm.

Swept me off my feet, Harry.

So, you do take me seriously as a cop?

Yeah. Why do you ask?

I'm glad you take me seriously.

Pretty nice view for a cop.

It's a long story.

Paramount paid me a lot of money.

They made a movie.

"The Black Echo."

Based loosely on one of my cases.

Very loosely.

He's much better looking.

Thanks.

The movie was crap.

But it paid for this view.

Can you stay?

Is this the one they talk about?

Well, it's the only bullet hole I've got.

Who talks about it?

I heard it fast-tracked you to detective.

Bullshit's bullshit even from cops.

What about these?

You were gonna tell me about that, remember?

I never said that. I said it's a long story.

Jerk.

Let's talk about some of your defects for a minute.

Let's start with that hideous mole behind your ear.

Which one?

This one.

Who's that?

That's my daughter.

What's her name?

Madeline. Maddie.

She's pretty.

- Thanks. - She gets that from her mother, obviously.

Didn't tell me you guys had a suspect.

We don't.

Registered sex offender lives down the hill

from the boy's bones?

Oh, shit.

No, you press... you have to... okay.

You do it.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

I should have planned this a little better.

I don't care who knows or what they say.

I'm a d-three, supervisor level.

I'm not supposed to be sleeping with my...

What are you? My... my underling.

That's kind of sexy.

But, no, I think the word in the manual is "subordinate."

You read the manual?

Yeah, I was a lawyer.

If it eases your mind any,

you not being in my chain of command

mitigates the impropriety.

Jesus, you did read the manual.

Nobody reads the manual.

Okay then.

Keep this between us, subordinate?

Yes, sir.

Now, discovery doesn't begin until you enter a plea.

But based on what we know from the arrest report,

the preliminary observations by the coroner,

and the charging documents,

I think we can start formulating a strategy.

Can I get copies of all that?

Uh, I would recommend against it.

You don't want this floating around in jail.

The wrong person gets a look at it,

they'll snitch you off in a heartbeat,

make it sound like you gave up every detail.

I didn't kill that young man.

A man was found dead

- in a vehicle owned and operated by you. - Yeah.

And the preliminary coroner's investigation

calls his death "asphyxiation by strangulation."

Yeah, that's terrible, but I didn't do it.

Well, it only gets worse from there, Mr. Waits.

They found the hood and the taser.

Those are tools that I use in my business.

And then there's the DNA.

Blood, hair, semen collected from the victim's body,

as well as... but that proves it.

I'm not gay, so it's got to be somebody else.

As well as the van and the hood.

Multiple distinct DNA samples.

Look, my point is...

If even one of those samples from the hood or the van

is matched to another murder or a missing person,

multiple victims makes you eligible for the death penalty.

So, what do I do?

You sit tight.

We enter a plea, see what's in discovery.

Maybe we get lucky

and find something that we can challenge.

What if I had something?

What do you mean?

Something to give the D.A.

Something I think he'd want.

How old was your son when he disappeared?

What was his name?

And when was he reported missing?

Thank you for your call.

We'll be in touch if there are any new developments.

Texas, eight years ago.

Female, '50s.

No, I'm telling you... they do not mean the same thing.

Help us out, Harry.

Crate thinks that the well-known injunction

not to fish off of the company dock

means the same thing as the less-well-known,

but more personally beloved advice,

not to get your nookie where you get your cookie.

Right. But my uncle was a tuna guy down in San Pedro.

Now, he says the fishing one's actually about fishing.

Fuck you both.

You made her walk into the station

in yesterday's clothes, Harry.

Through the front door, no less.

Where are your manners?

Why are you girls so giddy?

What? Didn't you hear? You know that guy we brought in a couple of nights ago

with the dead body in a van?

S.I.D. found blood, semen, the whole genetic smorgasbord

from seven other possible victims...

Six men and one woman.

Good for you.

Hey. Harry, how's it shaking?

Mank, I know your rookies squeal with delight

when you ask them to actually give a good God damn,

but these tip sheets are worthless.

I am sorry, Harry,

but I don't know what to do about it, all right?

Your... your case hits CNN.

My guys are getting calls from Topeka.

I've written a script for your overburdened staff.

What is this?

"Did your loved one undergo a surgical procedure

in the months before his disappearance?

If so, what was the injury?

What was the name of his physician?

What hospital was he trea..." Okay, I get it.

831, please report to the watch commander.

One other thing.

Yes?

Edgewood.

She screwed up, Harry.

Because she gives a fuck, Mank.

Doesn't sit in the car waiting for the box

to tell her what to do.

Well, you ought to know, from what I hear,

you know, about her giving a fuck, I mean.

Really? You too?

Do you know what they say about the company dock?

Okay. All right.

I'll talk to Edgewood before he papers it.

Thanks.

Deputy District Attorney Escobar.

Why are we here?

My client wants to help you clear up several homicides

in which he was involved.

And in exchange, he gets to maximize his exposure,

a life without parole, no death penalty.

Correct. We have DNA from your van,

as many as seven possible victims.

Why would I make a deal before we get the science back

and see what unsolveds we can match it to?

And we have the body from the van.

You need Mr. Waits to tell you

where the other bodies are buried.

So you can let the families know

their loved one shave been found

and their killer incarcerated.

If I don't tell you, you'll never know.

I think we're good with what we've got.

There's another case.

You already have the body.

Wait. We never discussed this.

I was saving it... for this meeting.

It's not the entire body, just the bones.

What case is that?

Up in the canyon, the 12-year-old kid.

A dog found his bones.

I put him up there.

I like the view so much,

I put the other sup there, too.

It's peaceful, serene.

How many murders are we talking about exactly?

Oh.

Are we now negotiating in good faith... señor?

This won't take long.

Yes, sir.

Detective. The Lieutenant?

Restroom, sir.

Chief.

Lieutenant.

Nicholas Trent.

So, what do we have on him besides a

25-year-old molestation conviction?

Well, we're working on a search warrant,

but it's pretty thin.

Detectives found some stuff in the house,

some... some photos of kids.

- Pornographic? - Not at all.

They also found some boys' stuff...

Baseball mitts and a bike.

Was he cooperative?

Offered to take a polygraph.

And where are wen identifying the victim?

We're cross-referencing the leads from the tip line

with hospital record sand missing persons.

Chief, uh, can I speak to you about Captain Pounds?

Bosch thinks that Captain Pounds gave money Chandler

a copy of his confidential board of rights file.

That's a serious allegation, Lieutenant.

Bosch believes it.

And that makes it so?

We need officers to trust

that the board of rights hearings

are actually confidential or they won't cooperate.

And good shooting or not,

they are required to make a statement

and talk to a department shrink.

To then have their personal background thrown at them

in open court is bullshit... sir.

I'll take it under advisement, Lieutenant.

I'm his partner. What is this regarding?

Do you have information about the case?

Hold on. Harry.

Guy say she's Nicholas Trent's lawyer.

He refuses to talk to anyone but you.

This is Detective Bosch. How can I help you?

Do you have Nicholas Trent?

Sir, we do not have your client in custody.

No, sir, we do not.

- Well, I don't believe you. - You know what? I'm on my way.

That's your prerogative. You...

It's Trent's lawyer.

He said he can't get a hold of him. Thought we had him in custody.

Mr. Trent, this is the police.

Open the door.

Mr. Trent, it's the police.

If you are home... come to the door.

Harry.

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