Original subtitles

Sooner or later.

What? Sooner or later what?

We all wind up naked on the slab.

Preferably without the bullet holes.

You're a ray of sunshine this morning.

Yeah, the morgue's the ultimate reality check.

Life is short, and then you die.

First, you get a root canal.

Or get whacked by a pro.

Yeah, yeah, speaking of root canal,

Bennett and I are meeting with the guy from the SEC.

Oof. Don't die of boredom.

- I'll do my best. You? - Pedro Alvarez.

- He gonna give it up? - That's the deal.

Got his keep-away status last night.

Lucky boy.

- Later. - Later.

- Detective. - Dr. Golliher.

Sorry to interrupt.

No, no. Come in, come in.

Going somewhere?

Retiring, at long last.

Come, sit.

You've been on my mind recently.

Why is that?

The East Hollywood fire.

A child lost.

Ten-year-old girl.

The Little Tamale Girl.

Her name is Sonia Hernandez.

Two years younger than Arthur Delacroix.

This child wasn't abused.

She was... beloved.

I'm glad of that.

Ask you a question?

- Of course. - You told me

back then, when we were looking at Arthur's broken bones...

What that child endured in his short life...

You said there had to be a better world somewhere.

Otherwise, you... you couldn't keep doing your job.

Yes. Exactly right.

Still believe? In a better world?

I'm afraid I'm experiencing a full-blown crisis of faith.

A cancer of the soul.

I know the feeling.

You told me back then that you believed,

if not in a better world,

at least in the possibility of justice in this one.

I remember.

Do you still?

Believe in the possibility of justice?

In this world.

For Sonia Hernandez.

Jury's still out.

- ♪ I got a feeling that I 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 ♪ - ♪ 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 ♪

♪ 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 ♪

♪ Can't let go ♪

♪ Like me ♪

Typical Honey Chandler tease.

Said her client

could deliver a whale in exchange for help

with his current legal troubles.

Her client Vincent Franzen?

They were due to come in and give a preliminary statement,

outline what they had, and then...

Someone shot them?

What a thing. Terrible.

I'm lighting a candle for her recovery.

Uh, what did Franzen have? Who's the whale?

Carl Rogers.

Carl Rogers. The hedge fund billionaire?

Mm-hmm. Believe so, yes.

And Franzen was alleging...?

According to Chandler's notes, massive financial fraud.

So, when Franzen was killed

the night before he was to give his deposition...

And his lawyer shot the morning of...

Here we are.

You sure they're connected?

Mr. DeVore, there is such a thing as coincidence.

Yes?

This ain't it.

I feel for the kid.

Got his heart set on West Bureau.

Well, Pierce has the experience, but Vega's got rank.

Who knows if there's even a spot?

Well, why wouldn't there be?

I mean, once you and I transfer.

If we transfer.

You thinking about going somewhere else?

Nothing's carved in stone.

Hey. LAPD. Detectives Bosch and Edgar here

to interview an inmate. Pedro Alvarez.

Nope.

What do you mean, "nope"?

As in, we don't have him nope.

Look again.

Transferred to federal custody last night.

Say where?

Nope.

Unbelievable.

Don't believe me?

Get yourself a copy of the removal order

over at Records and Detainers.

They don't look that happy.

Downright glum.

What'd you get from the SEC?

Carl Rogers' hedge fund,

$20 billion in assets under management.

Rumors of offshore shenanigans and financial malfeasance,

but nothing indictable.

We have a meeting with Rogers in the morning.

- How'd it go at county? - Didn't.

- Alvarez wasn't there. - Feds have him.

FBI scooped him up last night.

What the fuck? Why?

Who knows?

Where is he now?

No idea.

Harvey. Come in.

Dennis. Wanted to update you and Lieutenant Billets

on the officer threat investigation.

More of a prank than a threat

in my opinion.

Well, be that as it may, her hair's on fire.

Mm.

Let's get it over with.

Bosch.

Detective Bosch, Scott Anderson.

You know I can't comment on an investigation. Call the PIO.

I'm not calling about Honey Chandler.

I don't care what you're calling about.

The Little Tamale Girl... any progress?

Fucking vulture.

- Scott Anderson? - Yeah.

About Chandler?

Sonia Hernandez.

Wasn't about to tell him our key witness is MIA.

We tracked the photoshop

to an anonymous message board.

Unfortunately, we're unable

to determine the identity of the person who posted it.

There's no proof at all it's someone within the division.

Take a look at these.

Officers Norris and Leonard.

The knuckleheads who failed to back up their female colleagues.

Read the highlighted bits.

"Warpigs"?

These guys are incels.

Involuntary celibates.

Sexually repressed male supremacists.

It's like the kid in Santa Barbara who couldn't get laid.

And the other one in Montreal who shot up McGill.

I know what incels are.

I'm shocked and dismayed they're in my command.

Not just. All through the department.

It's an infestation.

Okay, let's not inflate the problem, Lieutenant.

It's a few bad apples.

Grace,

I want you to know that we take this absolutely seriously.

And I second that.

Buenos dias, Juan.

Surveillance video?

Just back from goosing the security company.

- Waiting on more footage. - Keep pressing.

Fuck you, Bosch.

That was a nice one, Harry. World-class klong.

What is a klong?

A sudden rush of shit to the heart.

Mission accomplished.

Yeah.

I was at Metro earlier today.

Following on the mayor's edict.

I know you're eager to make a name for yourself, Nestor,

but you're late to the party.

We've been working on this issue since before Lopez was mayor.

Then why is it still going on?

Reform takes time.

Intentionally mislabeling Black and brown youth as gang members.

Intent is hard to prove, and the gangs are still a problem,

despite decades of effort.

Gang labeling follows these kids.

It ruins their lives.

And we're putting a stop to it.

The officers involved will be disciplined

and practices changed.

When?

As I said, it takes time.

The commission needs to see real progress

before we vote on your second term.

Okay, Franzen and his girlfriend were shot

with one nine millimeter pistol,

Honey Chandler with another.

No surprise.

If I had the guns, I could tell you which was which.

Down the nearest storm drain.

- Gun for hire. - Paladin.

Have Gun - Will Travel?

Richard Boone?

Yeah, I was gonna say,

if he's a pro, we cast a nationwide net,

maybe pick up a pattern, a signature.

Worth a shot.

I'll write it up, shoot it to ViCAP.

- Thanks, Lester. - Anytime.

- Paladin? - Am I dating myself?

Driver's just sitting there.

Nissan Altima.

Sure?

Just like mine.

All look the same.

How long has he been there?

Hours.

What's he waiting for?

Listening to the neighborhood.

Sniffing the air.

He won't move until it feels right.

Here we go.

- What's on his face? - Distortion mask.

Fucks with facial recognition software.

Came across 'em when I was in Robbery.

Scan forward.

There.

What's that under his arm?

Looks like a laptop.

Shit.

Can't read the plates.

We need more video.

Nothing happened.

What nothing happened?

Pounds overreacted.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

This isn't about Pounds?

What happened with Pounds?

Nothing. Harry was just fooling around...

No, don't tell me. I don't want to know.

- Okay. - Is there anybody at Pacific

that I can talk to about Leonard and Norris?

Well, uh...

we both know one.

Ex-Hollywood.

Nope. Drawing a blank.

Female?

You transferred her, put her on a bike on the beach.

- Oh. - Oh.

- Hmm. - Hmm.

Not at liberty to discuss.

- You signed it. - I did.

At whose request?

- FBI. It's on the order. - Okay.

Who do I talk to?

Sorry. Ongoing investigation.

Yeah, well, we have an ongoing investigation of our own.

Pedro Alvarez is a primary suspect

in the East Hollywood apartment building fire.

- Not familiar with the details. - Look, we just need

- half an hour with him. - Not possible at this time.

Where are you holding him?

Again, not at liberty to say.

He was about to flip and give up Mickey Peña.

- I don't know who that is. - The hell you don't.

We'd like to speak with your boss.

- The U.S. Attorney? - That's right.

He initiated the order.

And I'd like him to explain why.

Jesus.

Come on.

License and registration.

Right back.

Did you orchestrate this?

Tell Lopez...

the FBI may have dropped their investigation,

but I won't.

Put away your fucking phone.

Look who it is.

El Bolillo.

Detective.

¿Qué onda?

Had a long chat with your homeboy today.

Got lots of homeboys.

Pedro Alvarez.

Zorro. How's he making it?

He's good.

eMe can't get to him.

Makes him downright loquacious.

- "Lo" what? - "Quacious."

Talkative.

He told us you gave

him and Trejo the order to firebomb that building.

I ain't tell Zorro shit.

Zorro's weak.

He'll tell you what you want to hear.

- He'll testify to it. - Testify?

He'll testify to it.

Holy shit. Cojones. You heard that?

In that case, yeah, you got me, dawg.

Slap 'em on.

Garcia, call my lawyer.

Not yet, but soon.

Alvarez gave you up, homes. Trejo will, too.

Trey Trey won't deal.

Zorro won't, either.

End of the day, he'll come home.

You can't get to him.

He's out of reach.

Never say never, amigo.

He ain't in county.

Feds have him.

You got the wrong Chicano, cabrón.

Fuck off.

- All good? - All good.

- You rattle him? - Your guess is as good as mine.

I'll tell you one thing,

I think he already knew.

- About Alvarez and the Feds? - About Alvarez and the Feds.

You make it look so easy.

Try it again.

Okay, I know I'm hopeless,

but you are, like, a million miles away.

Sorry.

Delgado.

Ambushed me today about gang labeling.

And what galls me,

he doesn't give a damn about Black and brown youth.

He wants your job, always has.

He doesn't know what he doesn't know.

The job will eat him alive.

I'll get it.

Mm-hmm. I'll check on dinner.

Bosch.

Feds have Alvarez. Took him last night,

right after his keep-away status came through.

Well, where are they holding him?

Wouldn't tell me. "Ongoing investigation."

- Who signed the order? - Zhang.

We went to her office, complete stonewall.

And I'm just now hearing about it?

Alvarez is ready to talk.

I don't care who's babysitting him.

We just need the interview.

I thought they might give me access.

I asked Zhang for a meeting

- with the U.S. Attorney. - No, she'll slow-walk it.

What I'm afraid of.

And now you need my help.

Yes, sir.

Franzen was an investor.

A voice on the phone.

If I spoke to him more than once, I don't recall.

You never met him?

Maybe. Someone's holiday party once?

Who knows?

That's it?

The alpha and the omega.

Oh, I trust you don't mind, I asked my lawyer to join us.

It's been a minute, Detectives.

J. Reason Fowkkes.

You've met.

We've tangled.

Oh, I'd, uh, call it a draw. Wouldn't you?

If you consider a manslaughter plea and 15-to-20 a draw.

We were just talking about Vincent Franzen.

Cheap grifter.

A bottom-feeder.

And he got what he deserved?

Well, he got his tit caught in a wringer,

concocted some outlandish tale in order to save his own ass.

If he made it all up, why'd somebody take him out?

One of his disgruntled investors would be my guess.

- And Honey Chandler, too? - Well, when you lie down with dogs...

Any idea why he'd bring up your name with the SEC?

Mr. Franzen was in a desperate situation.

Desperate men make desperate allegations.

I was looking forward to laying these baseless accusations

to rest in court.

Now that he's no longer around to back them up, uh...

We have a witness who can.

Your witness is mistaken.

Harry, I'm sorry.

Fowkkes just pissed me off.

So fucking smug.

Maddie's in the crosshairs now, thanks to you.

What the fuck?!

Hi, Dad.

Mads, where are you?

Farmers Market. Du-par's.

What are you doing there?

- Waiting on Antonio. - I need you to head home.

Do it now. Have Antonio meet you there.

I'm putting a car on the house

till I get home.

What's going on?

I'll explain later.

Okay.

I need you to text or call me every hour.

Now you're scaring me.

Promise. Every hour on the hour.

Promise.

That's great. Thanks.

Morgan recovered video of a dark gray Nissan Altima

in Beachwood Canyon, just south of the scene, night of.

Tell me we got plates.

Rented to a George McClellan at Long Beach Airport that morning.

Due back yesterday. No-show.

I'll run it through ALPERS.

Ah, the glamor and the glory

of being a detective, huh, Pierce?

- Livin' the dream. - Right. The drudgery.

The paperwork, the shoe leather, the mind-numbing boredom.

Don't bullshit me.

You love it as much as I do.

Not all of it.

I dealt with some sexist shit in Hollywood, for sure,

but Norris was off the charts. Leonard, too.

Guys who'd vandalize a female lieutenant's personal ride?

Oh. You kidding? They'd get off on it.

All right. So, give me a "for instance."

Something really egregious.

Where to start? Uh...

Oh, let's see. All right.

So my partner Claire and I responded

to "shots fired" in Oakwood.

We get there, situation's already gone to shit.

- Black! - Hispanic gang beef.

Put out a help call, everyone rolled,

- except Norris and Leonard. - Hmm.

Friend of mine called them on it.

And what'd they say?

Said they'd be damned if they'd roll out

for "that fucking tuna boat."

Jesus. Did you report it?

Yeah. It went all the way up

through Pacific's chain of command.

- And? - Captain punted, made a deal.

Norris and Leonard agreed to transfer to avoid

a 128. Just made 'em someone else's fucking problem.

Yeah. Mine.

Hey, where you two going?

ViCAP flagged a couple of cases.

Miami and Vegas. Possible pro hits.

- No shit? - Same M.O.

Double taps to the heart.

Close range, medium caliber.

Nobody heard nothing.

The whole shmear.

Both vics had O.C. jackets.

Franzen was mobbed up?

That's what we're trying to find out.

Meeting the special master at Chandler's office.

- Give it a second look. - What about Rogers?

- How'd that go? - Remember J. Reason Fowkkes?

Yeah, bent as a crowbar.

Rogers' attorney.

We should look at Fowkkes' clients, too.

Way ahead of you, brother.

Hey, you guys help me out with something?

What, and tear ourselves away

from another scintillating CAPs caper?

I need you to dig into a lawyer's past cases and clients.

Looking for what?

A whiff of mob, no matter how faint.

And any connection to Vegas or Miami.

Sunny spots for shady people.

This about Franzen and Chandler?

- Maybe. - Told you

that was a contract hit. All the earmarks.

Yeah, yeah. Who's the shyster?

J. Reason Fowkkes.

The Holland case. He represented that, uh,

director, the Jeffrey Epstein wannabe.

- World-class creep. - The lawyer or the client?

A matched set. They deserved each other.

Count on us, Kemosabe.

Thanks, brother.

Got a minute, L.T.?

Yeah. What is it, Jerry?

I need to take a few days.

Is everything okay? Your kids?

They're good, but I'm not.

I shouldn't be here right now.

What about your cases?

Oh, I'm doing more harm than good.

I need some time to put things right.

Take as much time as you need.

Thanks, L.T.

I expect you back day after tomorrow.

That's it?

Franzen wasn't her client for long.

Well, what about her other clients?

I have a team sifting through the rest of her clients.

It's a lot to go through. Short notice.

We appreciate it.

Anything O.C. turn up?

Not so far.

Carl Rogers a suspect?

Person of interest.

I'll take that as an affirmative.

How'd you know we were looking at Rogers?

Chandler's notes.

Courthouse gossip.

Who's representing him?

J. Reason Fowkkes.

- Oh, my. - Yeah.

Think he'd know how

to hire a contract killer?

I think he used to be one.

Whatcha got, youngblood?

Uh-huh.

Yeah.

On our way. Text the address.

Pierce. Located the killer's car.

Where?

Burbank Airport. Long-term parking.

- We'll be back. - Mm-hmm.

Bitch spat at me. Big, fat, disgusting loogie.

Gross. So what'd you do? Arrest her?

She wanted him to.

Kept screaming, "Arrest me. Turn your body cam on.

Is your body cam on? Arrest me."

Looking for that big, fat L.A. County payday.

Was it on?

Absolutely.

I wrote her a ticket.

Said "have a nice day."

Bitch was frothing at the mouth, she was so mad.

War stories?

Just shooting the shit, Lieutenant.

Mm.

Since you're swapping lies,

when you were at Pacific...

that shootout in Oakwood

between V13 and the Shoreline Crips?

I heard that got pretty hairy.

Drug trade bullshit.

- Never ends. - No, it must have been wild.

I mean, I heard the whole division rolled on that one.

Yes, ma'am.

It was, uh, it was mythic.

Yeah. So why didn't you show?

Couldn't respond, we were Code 6.

Traffic stop.

Mm.

And you made that call over the radio?

I mean, it's in the archives?

No, Lieutenant.

Stayed off the air to keep the frequency open.

I'll bet you did.

Yes, ma'am.

By the end of business, depending on traffic.

No, thank you.

I'll see you then.

Bosch.

Got a minute?

What's up?

What's up with Edgar?

Same old, same old.

Seems like more. He asked for a couple days off.

We talked to Carl Rogers this morning.

- How'd that go? - Nowhere.

Edgar got frustrated,

let it slip that we had a witness.

Oh. Jesus, Harry.

Did he mention Maddie by name?

No.

Thank God.

What's wrong with him?

He doesn't need to mention her by name.

Somebody can still put it together.

Tegan Boyle, Deputy D.A. on Franzen?

Yeah? What about her?

She wants me to come in today, talk about a plan

to get the target off Maddie's back.

Go.

Hey.

We found your mob connect.

Willy Datz. From Lost Wages.

Fowkkes represented him on a bust-out scheme.

Case dismissed when the key witness, uh, "disappeared."

Thanks.

Sure.

Brought in for the job, flown out after.

Have gun, will travel.

Odds of catching him are slim.

Scratch that. None.

Maybe he'll fuck up somewhere else

and we can fly to Boise or Detroit

and brief the local coppers on what went down here.

I'll keep a bag packed.

Thanks.

Your dad didn't say what all this is about?

It's got to have something to do with what happened to Honey.

How is she?

I only know what's on the news.

Medical coma.

Still critical.

What are the odds?

Both of them shot.

You know, Chandler reminds me so much of my mom.

How so?

Eleanor was fearless.

World-class poker player.

Almost always, she would be the only woman at the table.

And she never flinched.

Chandler's like that, too.

Take on anyone.

Never back down.

I went to Du-par's today.

I sat outside, and...

...and I stared at the parking lot

where she was killed.

I ordered banana pancakes, and I thought about her.

Isn't that so stupid?

Fucking Du-par's.

Fuck, I miss my mom.

We're talking less than an hour.

We bring her in, do the Q and A, she goes right back home.

The grand jury is secret and secure.

In my experience, they're neither.

And how does that take the target off my daughter's back?

Well, let's say her appearance before the grand jury does leak.

Which it will. We'll make sure of it.

Then word is out her story's locked in.

There's no reason to go after her.

No, that only highlights that she's a primary witness.

I'm not gonna put my daughter in jeopardy.

Well, there is an exception, and that's the part we leak.

If a grand jury witness is killed

to stop him or her from testifying at trial,

their grand jury testimony becomes admissible.

The exception will keep your daughter safe.

Okay. So, when? Tomorrow?

No, I'm afraid it's too late in the day for that.

First thing in the morning, day after tomorrow.

I'll set it up with the sitting grand jury.

Okay. See you then.

Hey, um, true what I hear about you and Judge Sobel?

Friends. Who told you that?

Ah, like I said, place leaks like a sieve.

Have a good evening, Detective.

You, too.

Too cold for a walk?

Jacques Avril.

I wanted him dead.

And now you can't sleep.

"You reap what you sow."

Let us think how to rid you of this evil spirit.

- Hey. - Hey.

Just wanted to check in, see how you're doing.

Sorry I've been a little MIA.

No need to apologize.

You've got a lot going on.

How's Maddie holding up?

Rough week. We'll get through it.

I'm here if you need me.

Thanks, Donna.

Appreciate the call.

Night, Harry.

Night.

- Hey. - Dad, what's going on?

Antonio, you give us a minute?

Yeah, um, I'll take Coltrane for a walk.

Great. Thanks.

Go on, boy. Go on.

Look, there's no easy way to say this.

You're in danger.

I get that. Why?

The video.

- We have to assume they have it. - Who has it?

The people who killed Franzen and shot Chandler.

They may know you were there when it was made

and that you can testify to what Franzen said about Carl Rogers.

How could they know that I was there?

J. Edgar.

When we were interviewing Rogers and his lawyer,

Jerry slipped up, said we had a witness.

- He say my name? - No.

But it's only a matter of time before they piece it together.

- Can't you just arrest them? - Not yet.

Not enough evidence.

- So, what do we do? - You need to testify

day after tomorrow before the grand jury

so what you know is on the record.

Once that's done, you're safe.

Okay?

It's gonna be fine, honey.

Okay.

Okay.

Do you swear this testimony

is true and complete, to the best of your knowledge?

- I do. - Do you understand

that if anything you've said proves

to be false in fact or degree,

your agreement will be abrogated and you will go to jail?

I understand.

And you assert under oath you have

documentation that supports your contentions

and that you will turn it over to the appropriate authorities

when the time comes?

Yes. Yes.

I have the real shit.

- We done? - Mm, for now.

I'll get you a copy of this video, with notes.

- Okay. - Maddie, I'm gonna need you to type this up.

What?

We have a problem.

He needs to come back.