All language subtitles for Bosch.S07E07.Workaround.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb-HI

[birds chirping]

- Buffed your boots.
- [Bosch] Thanks.

Tying my tie.

You look nice.

Thanks. So do you.

That's a good suit on you.

Worn it way too many times.

It's a beautiful day.

January in L.A. Can't beat it.

Should be raining.

Cold, wet, miserable.

California funerals.

Ought to be raining.

You okay?

Let's go.

[dog barking in distance]

[bicycle passing]

[indistinct chatter]

[chatter continues]

I fixed you a plate.

No, thanks. Not hungry.

Gotta eat sometime, Dad.

I know. I will. Later.
I promise.

Bella Winslow.
Donna's daughter.

Yes, we know.
Maddie Bosch.

This is my dad.

Harry Bosch.

I'm so sorry.

Your mother was
an extraordinary woman.

- Thank you for coming.
- [Maddie] Of course.

Lovely service.

It was, wasn't it?
It's such a gorgeous day.

It feels like it should be
raining cats and dogs.

I know what you mean.

My mother spoke
very fondly of you.

- I was very fond of her.
- So she said.

I'm grateful to you.
You put a spring in her step

and roses in her cheeks.

It was mutual.

I'll miss her.

Thank you again for coming.

Call me.

We should get coffee
before I leave town.

I'd like that.

- Don't say it.
- What?

Whatever you were going to say.

Wouldn't dream of it.

So Donna's daughter.

- You should give her a call.
- Bella?

Maybe I will.

- We have a lot in common.
- Yeah.

Did you call the hospital
this morning?

I did.

She's stable. Still critical.

When will I get to see her?

When she's conscious.

Day by day, Mads.

Day by day.

♪ ♪

- ♪ 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 ♪

[Billets] A broken surveillance
camera isn't much use.

[Patterson] Well,
I thought it was a deterrent.

Mm, kids, maybe. But not anyone
who knows what they're doing.

Been planning to get it fixed.

Okay, when you do,
position the monitor

so that your customers can
see that they're on camera.

- That is a deterrent.
- Gotcha.

I would also recommend
an audible alarm

- with a panic button.
- I-I've got an alarm.

Panic button is key.

First, fix the cameras.

You've got a lot of
nice merchandise in here.

Oh? You see anything you like?

- Earrings are my weakness.
- Ah.

- Oh, no, no, no. Not today.
- I'll give you a nice price.

Oh, for me,
full price is a good price.

So if there isn't anything more,
Mr. Patterson,

I've got a couple more
stops to make.

Ah. Well, I appreciate you
stopping by, Lieutenant.

That's what we're here for.
To protect and serve.

[chuckles]

[vocalizing softly]

I see that Héctor Lavoe
salsa swagger in your step.

- What you got?
- Prints came back.

- Fowkkes murder book?
- Yup.

"Charles Kipps"?

That's him. That's our hit man.

Charles Kipps.
Have gun, will travel.

- Got a record?
- Clean sheet.

Where'd you find his prints?

Military. M.P.
Military po-lice.

That explains his skill set.
Where's his hidey hole?

Vegas. Least that's where
the VA sends his pension.

I'll reach out to Sin City PD.
Get those warrants started.

Road trip.

- Can't we fly?
- Ah-ah.

Bring the murder book.

Fleet of taco trucks, half dozen
hole-in-the-wall Mexican joints.

Way I read it,
Peña's getting out of the life.

- From extortion to ownership.
- American dream.

Mm. And get this:
rental properties.

In gentrifying neighborhoods.

East Hollywood, Thai Town,
Echo Park... all legit.

Legit if you ignore
where the money comes from.

Feds are turning a blind eye.
Why?

I tried, Bosch. I really did.

All I got was "need to know"
and "you don't need to know."

And, "if you know
what's good for you,

you'll leave it the fuck alone."

- I'm the original slow learner.
- [chuckles softly]

Peña's got federal friends
in high places.

Apparently.

LAPD's had eyes
on him for months.

[phone ringing]

This is Billets.

[Marsha] Grace.
Marsha Macken.

Marsh'. It's been ages.

Is this about
my harassment complaint?

I wish.

Oh, what's up?

Better if we talk in person.

Can it wait till end of watch?

Text you time and place.

[sighs]

A $150,000 consulting fee
for a mayoral campaign

doesn't strike me as unusual.
Or egregious.

It isn't a consulting firm, sir.
If you'll turn the page.

It's a dummy corporation.
Owned by Henry Myers.

Henry Myers,
head of Federated L.A. Labor?

The very same.

He backed Lopez.

Now I know why.

He had a lot of incentive.

Why'd the Bureau
drop their investigation?

Last page, sir.

"Insufficient evidence
to prove a quid pro quo."

Touchy stuff.
First-term, first Latina mayor?

They'd want to make damn sure

she was dirty
before going ahead.

So they shelved it.

- Good work, Captain.
- Thank you, sir.

[door opens]

[door closes]

[phone ringing]

Jimmy.

[Robertson] I hate to nag.

Hit man's burner.

I put a rush on it.
Call you soon as I hear.

Okay. I'm on my way to Vegas.

Road trip. Me and Bennett.

What's in Vegas?

Charles Kipps, the hit man.

Located his last known.

Got a friendly out there.

LVPD detective named Iverson.

I'll reach out.

When you toss his place,
keep an eye out

for any connection
between Kipps and Willy Datz.

The mobster? Will do.

- And, Jimmy?
- Yeah?

Let Bennett drive.

Fuck you, Bosch.

[chuckles softly]

You didn't know
Peña was their CI.

Fuck no.

Feds don't tell us jack.

You sure?

They let him
launder his drug money

buying fucking taco trucks
and run-down real estate.

They disappear Alvarez before
he can finger Peña for arson.

Bureau's protecting him,
no question.

Shit.

That's a tough break, brother.

Shuts down your case.
You'll never get to Peña.

Don't count on it.
I need to talk to Trejo.

- Trejo won't talk.
- Something I want to show him.

Reach out to his lawyer.
Make it happen, yeah?

[indistinct chatter]

- Marsh'.
- Grace.

Sorry about
the cloak-and-dagger.

What's going on?

Serious beef lodged against you.

Fuck me. For what?

You're on the take.

And I'm not talking about

the occasional
five-dollar latte.

Well, of course not.

It'd never be something
that trivial.

Well, feel free to reassure me
with your righteous outrage.

This is pushback.

The two police officers?

Exactly.

So, where did it come from?

The allegation.

Civilian complaint.

Civilian?

[quietly] What the fuck?

[♪ Ron Carter: "Por-De-Sol"]

Is there any more boxes?

Right there.

[dishes clatter]

Ron Carter?

Good ear.
Raised you right.

[laughs softly]

I've converted Antonio,
you know.

- To jazz?
- Jazz on vinyl.

Doing the Lord's work.
Proud of you.

Yeah, I think moving in together

and taking time off school
is going to be good for me.

I think I need time to think.

A lot of thinking.

Think you'll get a job?

Eventually.

Once Honey goes back to work.

Could be a while.

If ever.

I know.

Antonio's okay with this?

What about money?
Your share of the rent?

We'll work it out.

Okay, you know,
the monthly survivor payments

- end once you leave school.
- I know.

I have a bit of it saved.

- Plus what Mom left for me.
- Okay, Madeline,

your mother intended that
to be used for emergencies.

This feels like
an emergency, Dad.

It does?

After everything
that's happened?

Definitely.

Okay.

I get that.

I think I just need time.

Figure out what I'm doing
with my life.

Okay.

Credit and debit card numbers.

Sounds like Señor Peña's
snug as a bug in a rug

in some Motel Fed.

I'm a sucker for
a wild-goose chase

and a fool's errand.

Long shot, I know.

Well, for the
Little Tamale Girl,

no turn unstoned.

Appreciate it, brother.

You know that's a spoonerism?
No turn unstoned?

I know what a spoonerism is.

That was intentional.

Could be a sign
of cognitive decline.

Decline this.

[phone ringing]

Dylan, any luck?

Great. Send it through now.
Thanks.

- Hit man's burner come back?
- Finally.

Morning of, Kipps got a text
from an unknown number.

"Is it done?"

Received downtown Los Angeles.

About the time
he had Donna at gunpoint.

Sorry, man.

Jimmy found
the hit man's burner,

we texted
that unknown number back.

"It's over."

Right.

Where was that text received?

- Las Vegas.
- Willy Datz?

That'd be my guess.

So the first text, "Is it done?"

That's Datz asking Kipps

if he'd killed Fowkkes
and Sobel yet.

And Maddie.

We had an understanding.

I made no promises.

The status quo would continue

in exchange for my support.

I'm sorry if you misconstrued
our conversations.

Henry Myers.

I'll bet he's just
the tip of the iceberg.

Who else bought
a ticket to the ball?

What do you want?

Only what's owed me.

I look forward to
five more years

of working with you
for the betterment

of the people
of this great city.

L.T.

Norris and Leonard.

What a pair of weasels.

Thanks, Mank.

Now what?

I'm not sure.

Cooper?

Where investigations go to die.

- Take it outside the chain?
- That's risky.

Bureaucratic blowback, I'm...

Well, I'm not going to sit back
and let these two pricks

destroy my reputation.

I get it. I know.

Sorry, L.T.,

a couple of suits
in the parking lot

tossing your city ride.

All right, whoa.

Slow your roll, guys, all right?

- I will handle this.
- Out of my way, Mank.

After you, Alphonse.

[indistinct chatter]

What the hell is going on?

Whoa, whoa. Stop right there.

Lieutenant Billets?

Who are you?
And what the fuck are you doing?

Lieutenant Klotz.
Investigating a complaint.

- From whom?
- I cannot tell you that.

Bullshit.
Where's your warrant?

Don't need one. City property.

This car belongs to LAPD.

Now, step back
and let us do our job, hmm?

That's not mine.

I have never seen that before.

Why don't we head inside,
Lieutenant?

See if we can sort this out.

Don't say anything
without a rep.

What's eating you?

Peña.

What about him?

He's gonna skate
without a fucking scratch.

Thanks to the Feds.

They don't give a shit
about our little arson fire.

They do not.

- Doesn't fucking sit right.
- No, it doesn't.

There's gotta be a work-around.

As a matter of fact, there is.

You gonna tell me about it?

If it pans out.

Harry...

Less you know, the better.

I don't like the sound of that.

Trust me.

[Edgar] The memorial.

It's gone.

Bet the owners took it down.

Lieutenant.

Sir.

You're entitled to
have a rep present.

I don't need one.

Very well.

As you know,

there's been an allegation
of corrupt conduct

- lodged against you.
- Who is the complainant?

Um...

Andrew Patterson.
Gift of Gold jewelry.

He was on your reach-out list.

I met with him yesterday.
We discussed a security plan.

He seemed satisfied.

Claims you strong-armed him

into giving you a pair
of expensive earrings.

In exchange for "enhanced"
police services.

That's ridiculous.

I.A. found a pair
of gold earrings

from his store in your car.

They were planted.

This is a setup.

This has Leonard and Norris
written all over it.

Again?

You're obsessed with these guys.

You really gonna go there?

If by "go there" you mean
defend myself, absolutely.

So be it.

I have no choice
but to assign you home,

pending the outcome
of this investigation.

That's not necessary.

I can continue to work
from here.

Consider yourself lucky you're
not getting booked tonight.

What's going on?

The usual treason and fuckery.

[exhales]

Lieutenant?

Not here.

Let me give you a ride home.

I'm gonna need a favor.

[sniffs]
Look into this son of a bitch.

[dispatcher] Charlie 2-3,
that register information

on that blue SUV, Nevada plate
4-Delta-Alpha-9-0-2, stand by.

[sputters, clicks tongue]

[sighs]

[deep sigh]

What do we have here?

Looks like Kipps
kept a scorecard.

Insurance.
Case he had to deal someday.

[Iverson] Only works
if you're not dead.

He left it where
it could be found.

Under a mattress instead of
a safe-deposit box.

Revenge?
From beyond the grave?

I would.
Take some motherfuckers with me.

Does he name names?

About a dozen victims.

Maybe more.

Franzen, Chandler...

Maddie B.

Who ordered those hits?
Can you tell?

Those three?

Carl Rogers.

See?

Exhibit A.
Rogers is toast.

Looks like Rogers arranged it
through Fowkkes,

gave him the targets.

[Iverson] A full-service
law firm.

Fowkkes call Kipps directly?

[clicks tongue]

Don't think so.

[Bosch] Willy Datz.

Right.

Fowkkes called Datz
to set up the hits.

Datz gave Kipps the who,
the when, the where.

Datz figured Fowkkes had to go.

Middleman knew too much.

The last loophole.

[door opens]

Hey, listen. On our way
to LVPD to background Datz.

Iverson's working the warrants.

We'll hook Datz
at his place tomorrow.

Have a better one.

Later.

Ready?

Let's roll.

I'm looking for Peña.
Have you seen him?

I haven't seen him.
He hasn't been around.

[engine turns off]

Ten cuidado, eh.

Hey, hey. Hey, tranquilo.

Tranquilo. Tranquilo.

[grunts, groans]

[grunts]

[groans]

[cork pops]

He asleep?

Yes.

To our son James.

Our precious son.

Home at last.

[glasses clink]

We, um, we have something else
to celebrate.

Oh?

My second term.

I met with the mayor today.

Oh, Irv. That is so wonderful.

What changed her mind?

My unparalleled
powers of persuasion.

Oh, yeah.

I can attest to those.

Cheers, Chief.

[Antonio] Hey, buddy.

Make yourself at home.

So what's the custody
arrangement?

Dad gets him every other
weekend, Christmas Eve,

Fourth of July
and six weeks in the summer.

You're kidding. Seriously?

I'm kidding.
We're playing it by ear.

He'll take him whenever
he's not working.

I guess we'll be
seeing a lot of you.

Do you mind?

Mi casa es tu casa.

Yeah, I don't think
he speaks Spanish.

[Antonio] High time he learned.

I guess we should
make it official.

Do you keep a key
underneath your mat?

You might as well
leave the front door open.

I keep an extra key
under the mat.

[laughs]

You are a mess.

Do you also hide your money
under your mattress?

Please.

Everyone knows the freezer's
a much better place.

[laughs]

[Coltrane whines softly]

[phone ringing]

Vega?

[Vega] Patterson likes
to beat on his wife.

She had to get
a restraining order.

One of the conditions
of that order is

he turn in his firearms,
which he has not done.

Gives you a reason to go
and talk to him.

And PC for a search warrant.

In the works.

One more thing.

Patterson was issued a concealed
carry permit a few years back.

That's not easy to get.

Know who vouched for him?

Captain Dennis Cooper.

- Find anything?
- Three handguns.

Two registered to Patterson,

another with
the serial number filed off.

- A couple solid violations.
- That's our leverage.

We'll book the guns.
He's all yours.

Appreciate it, Rick.

Good cop, bad cop?

Your case, your choice.

Feeling kind of badass today.

Stand back.

You don't think I can do it?

- Way too nice.
- Hmm, watch me.

[desk phone ringing]

[ringing continues]

Detective Bosch.

[Morgan] Detective,
it's Kai Morgan.

Morgan, what's up?

I'm over at Saint Ags.

You know a man named
Hector Hernandez?

Found your card in his wallet.

He okay?

Caught a beating yesterday
in East Hollywood.

Asking around about Mickey Peña.

I'm on my way.

I forgot to turn 'em in.
What's the big deal?

- You violated a court order.
- Contempt of court?

What's that, like,

- six months in county?
- I thought it was a year.

All right, come on.

- On your feet, shitbird.
- What for?

We're booking you.

- Now.
- For what?

Filing a false complaint.

Participating in
a criminal conspiracy.

Holy shit.

[Pierce] There's a way
you can make it right.

Come clean about
your relationship

with Captain Cooper.

And you won't tell him
that I told you?

We will if you don't.

W... [sighs]

All right, we go way back.
We're fraternity brothers.

Over the years, he's done me
a favor from time to time.

You know, permits and red tape.

Dealing with the city
is a frigging nightmare.

- [handcuffs click]
- So you owe him.

Yeah. I owe him.

Last time you spoke?

Uh...

The other day he dropped by,

he wanted to see
a pair of gold earrings.

Told me a couple of cops
were gonna come in

and I should
give the earrings to them.

"Present for a friend."

He pay for them?

My treat. It's always my treat.

The officers who
picked up the earrings,

can you describe them?

Young. One white guy,
uh, one Asian.

[monitor beeping steadily]

I wanted to find him.

Look him in the eye.

That's all.

And then what?

Then I'd know.

Did he do it?

I'd know.

Mr. Hernandez, I can't imagine
the loss you've suffered.

I can't.

But you need to step aside,
let us do our job.

I promise.

We'll get you justice
for your wife and daughter.

That's all I want.

Okay?

Okay.

We're gonna show you
some pictures.

You recognize any of them,
don't be afraid to tell us.

- [phone ringing]
- We will arrest them. Okay?

Okay, excuse me.

Bosch.

On my way.

- Gotta go.
- I got this.

[exhales shakily]

Okay, Mr. Hernandez.

I want you to take your time.

Okay. [grunts]

[Iverson] Looks like Datz
isn't home.

Was he tipped off?

What're you suggesting?

Just asking the question.

- I resent the insinuation.
- [officer] Clear!

I wasn't insinuating anything.

- Sorry.
- [officer 2] Clear!

No offense intended.

[officer] All clear, all clear.

All right, let's get crackin'.

Bennett,
you'll take the downstairs.

We'll work back to front.

Santiago and I'll
search his bedroom.

I'll have a couple unis
toss the garage.

Let's move out.

[computer whooshes]

[whooshes]

Jimmy! Iverson!

What you got?

[Bennett] His computer's open.

Datz is active
on his messenger app.

We're receiving his messages
as they post.

Hmm, why would he
leave his computer on?

I don't know. Maybe he wants
to access it remotely?

Or maybe he's
a knuckle-dragging moron

and doesn't know
how to turn it off.

It's why they get caught.

[Bennett] Hey, take a look.

- When did this come in?
- Just now.

[Robertson] "Wheels up
tonight at 7:30."

He flying somewhere?

[Bennett] "Pick-up confirmation.

Musso and Frank's, 4:30."

- From L.A. Limo.
- He's in L.A.

Son of a bitch.

[Bennett] Flying
out of Van Nuys.

Private jet.

Late lunch at Musso and Frank's,
flying back here tonight.

Yeah, we could sit tight
and arrest his ass

- when he lands at McCarran.
- [Iverson] Do me a solid.

Make my life easier.

Take the putz down in L.A.

Pleasure.

I'll call Bosch and Edgar.

I had a call from Special Agent
in Charge Brenner himself.

And "irate" would be
understating it.

Peña's good for my murders,
I know he is,

- but I can't get to him.
- [phone ringing]

I can't help you.

There's gotta be a way.

Step in. Demand cooperation.

It's over, Bosch.
When the time comes,

you can have Trejo and Alvarez
for the fire.

But Peña's off-limits.

- The fuck he is!
- Stand down, Detective.

That's an order. And stay away
from Agent Reece, for her sake.

- How long have you known?
- What?

About Peña and the Feds.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

I got five innocent victims
and you're asking me

to stand down?
On the ringleader?

It's not an ask.
It's a direct order.

Sometimes we have to
make compromises

for the greater good.

Bullshit.
This man lost his only child.

And you of all people should
be able to relate to that.

Motherfucker, get out.

[door closes]

[Robertson] See you
when I see you.

[line ringing]

[Edgar] Robertson reach you?

Yeah, he left me a voice mail

while I was in with the chief.

Fill you in, too?

Yeah, he did.

I've got some more business

to do downtown.
Can you handle this mook?

No problem.

I'll take Pierce.

What're you doing?

Working on my work-around.

[indistinct chatter]

- Mr. Datz? L.A. Limo.
- You're late.

And you're under arrest.

You heard the man.
Hands, asshole.

- [handcuffs clicking]
- Fuck. Take it easy.

[sirens wailing]

- That fucking hurts.
- Shut the fuck up.

- You call that a Miranda?
- Wiseguy.

[Datz grunts]

[Bosch] What's that
look like to you?

Hijo de puta.

Looks like Mickey Peña.

And his friends?

You tell me.

FBI.

[scoffs] Feds.

Fucking Feds.

Peña gets a new name
and a new life, Trejo.

What do you get?

Fucked.

I get fucked.

I want my fucking phone call.

You kiss your mother
with that mouth?

- Fuck you.
- Snap.

[grunts]
Ow. Motherfucker.

Heads up.

What's that about?

A little bit of justice
in an unjust world.

What'd they do?

Ask Billets.

L.T.?

What's going on?

Pest control.

I'll be back.

When pigs fly.

It's better than throwing him
through a plate glass window.

What corroboration
do you have for this alleged

conversation with Miguel Peña?
Did Trejo record it?

No.

- Did anyone else witness it?
- Pedro Alvarez.

- Will he testify?
- [Bosch] In federal custody.

His current whereabouts
are unknown.

[sighs]

Not sure I relish a pissing
match with the U.S. Attorney.

Emmanuel Trejo,
he's a career criminal.

He's an O.G., a shot caller
for a notorious street gang

and he's a principal
in this heinous crime.

He's facing multiple
felony murder charges.

He has no reason to lie.
He's not asking for a deal.

- He wouldn't get one.
- He knows that.

So what's his motivation
for coming forward? Why now?

My client just found out that
Miguel Peña's a federal CI.

A government snitch.

Trejo thinks it's unjust
that a rat like Peña,

who ordered the fire,

gets to walk, while he rots in
prison for the rest of his life.

All right. I'll take it
under advisement.

[♪ Art Pepper: "Patricia"]

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

[song ends]

[record crackling]

[phone ringing]

Collins.

[Irving] I need you to put a pin

in their communications
with Las Palmas,

effective immediately.

Where's this coming from?

Word just came down.

♪ ♪

[phone ringing]

Collins. What's up?

How'd it go today?

Trejo's pissed off

and ready to talk,
but the DDA wants corroboration.

Shit.

Listen.

Can you meet me tomorrow,

- first thing?
- What's shakin'?

I can't get into detail

this minute, I'm with a snitch.

Give me the headline.

Just got a call.
Word from on high.

Las Palmas is a no-fly zone.

Stand the fuck down.

There's a big RICO caper
about to pop.

How high on high?

Straight from the top of LAPD.

- Irving.
- No names

were mentioned, but you know.

Listen, here comes my snitch.
Gotta go.

♪ ♪

[sighs]

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪