All language subtitles for Bosch S03 E06_EN

Cranberry cobbler.

Your mom.

Every Thanksgiving I see you in here
with her.

She'd order the cranberry cobbler.

It was a tradition.

You've grown.

Yeah. It's been a while.

There's no rush with that.

Come in now and again by herself.

Cup of coffee, take a break.

Sat right there where you're sitting.

-Nice lady.
-Yeah.

And you.

You doing all right?

I'm glad to see you.

Start a new tradition, maybe.

I think I want some cobbler.

Now, you're talking.

Cobbler's on the house.

Harry?

Bosch?

Hey. Hey. Where'd you go?

I was thinking about my mom.

That's sweet.

Pintia Rioja.

Grace Billets knows her reds.

You better believe it.

Your family celebrate Thanksgiving?

Absolutely.

We so wanted to fit in.

Mom would make
all the American classics turkey,

cranberry, patatas dulces, carimañola,
patacones, arroz con coco.

-Right. Okay.
-We could have brought arroz con coco.

Lis!

So have you made a decision
about Maddie's travel ball?

Well, I'm not crazy about the idea
of her being away every weekend,

people and places I don't know.

You going to pack her in bubble wrap
when she goes off to college?

-Maybe.
-One-forty-eight.

Good.

So, what is the target there, sport?

Oh, Mank, turkey is the most difficult
of all meats to cook,

your reason being your thigh,
with its higher fiber and fat,

isn't done until it reaches 165 degrees.

But your breast gets all dry and ropey
at anything over 150.

Sounds like menopause to me.

Lisa, get in here!

Oh, please tell me more.

Well, you could spatchcock it,

but then the lieutenant is left

without the pleasing visual
of the complete bird

-before its carving on the table.
-Right, right, right.

Did he just say spatchcock?

-Yeah.
-Okay.

-You've gone viral again, Harry.
-Hey, Lisa, mash.

-Maddie, get the butter.
-What are you talking about, Lis?

So now, you're a suspect in a murder.

-What?
-Hashtag down and dirty detective.

Thanks for sharing.

-Did it just get colder in here?
-"Speculation rampant."

"The unnamed detective is Harry Bosch,"

"a key witness in the Andrew Holland
murder trial"?

This comes from Holland's people.

-Is there a factual basis for this?
-Well, only technically.

-Shit.
-"Thanks for sharing" is right.

Jesus, Harry.

You know, we were just saying
good food, good friends, good feelings.

-Yeah.
-Crap!

-It's 170!
-Oh, for God's sake.

Out of the way, out of the way.

Barrel, for God's sake,
I give you one job, one!

-That's it.
-Right here.

Hey, hey. Car.

Watch out, man.

Look, where's Joe and Jack?

We got to get this game going.
I'll be back.

Hey.

Have you seen our sons?

Touch football?

-Turkey Bowl.
-It's tradition.

Yeah. Your tradition of never being able
to convince enough people to play.

That's not fair. Just two years ago,
we went into overtime.

Yeah. I remember.

-Your mama's sweet potatoes caught fire.
-Yes.

You look tired, J.

The Bosch still wearing you down?

You look great.

They're back there.

Yo. Jack.

Joe. We got a game outside.

I got a game here.

Come on, man.

Oh, no.

Orange County deputies are trying
to identify the body of a man

who's washed ashore early this morning.

-Now, Rampart?
-Rampart, then home.

I think the rank and file
really appreciated

your holiday PM watch visit, sir.

Well, I appreciate their indulgence.

And yours.

Did I keep you from your family today,
Sergeant?

No, sir. We're eating later. You?

Volunteered to help serve meals
at the L.A. Mission.

That it?

Well, the chef at Providence
has promised me

some canneberge émietter right there.

And a 70-year-old almagnac.

Trouble?

Bosch.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Bosch.

I'm going to be in late.

Jerry, guess who just called.

Harry, I've been up
since the crack of dawn,

waiting to buy my kids some skater stuff
they've been on about.

I'm not in the mood to guessing anything.

You should shop online.

Like you would know about that.

It's the 21st century, Jerry.
Black Friday lines are for cavemen.

Fuck you.

-Who called?
-Our favorite fed.

Said a body washed up yesterday
off Seal Beach.

Army embark clerk.
May be connected to Dobbs and his crew.

Maybe.

You're gonna drive to south bum-fuck
on a maybe?

Where are you? I'll come pick you up.

And you'll be bringing me
a skinny macchiato with three shots.

A man can dream.

-You got an address?
-Of course.

-Yeah.
-What is that?

Holland read a book.

Pulled it from a shelf.

I've been thinking. Whoever sprung Gunn
from jail probably works for...

Found our bail girl in there, didn't you?

Waiting for you to ask.

There's an assistant in Holland's office.

Interview didn't yield anything,

but J. Edgar jotted down
a description of her.

Latina, late 20s.

Marissa Marta.

Worth a shot.

Excellent work, Pierce.

-But first...
-Owls.

Fucking owls.

Manna from heaven.

Or the giant Seattle conglomerate
masquerading as such.

-How'd your turkey turn out?
-Don't ask.

You getting anything?

Cataracts.

Seriously, no car, no kid.

We have to widen our perimeter.

Cross our I's and dot our T's.

-Committed a cold-blooded murder.
-Yes.

To discredit Harry Bosch
as a witness in their trial.

Yes.

Provable?

Working on it. We think yes.

So Chief called you in.

There's been a mass freak-out
at PAB Chief Irving,

Rollins in West Bureau, Media Relations,

and pretty much every command staff
drama queen-with nothing else to do.

Believe me, there was no way
of controlling this story.

-You could have warned me.
-I wanted for you to be able

to say honestly that you knew nothing
about it.

I mean, I was hoping that my guys
could prove the frame

before it all blew up, but if it did,
I didn't want it to get on you.

RHD wants in on the frame.

-It's your call.
-I said no.

But I do worry
that this is another example

-of your loose supervision of your people.
-I will happily put

my people's case clearance rate up
against any other detective's in the city.

You've seen the numbers.
You know what we've done.

It speaks for itself.

And for the quality of your command.

You're too familiar with them, Grace.
You like them too much.

If you need me to take the heat
with Chief Irving

for my decision to handle this in-house,
I...

-I'm...
-No. It's above your rank, Lieutenant.

But fuck this up and it's on you.

Captain.

Well, welcome
to my jurisdictional nightmare.

Better justify the drive down here.

-Jerry's got the Black Friday Blues.
-Black Friday.

Is that... That still a thing?

Yes, it is, and mine just got spoiled
by a fed with a phone.

Probably find whatever you need here.

So Cornell "Merch" Jackson.

U. S. Army. E5 Logistics.

Found deceased fully clothed.
No sign of foul play.

Except for the being dead part.

It's funny how our mind always goes there
when that happens.

Oh, O. C. Sheriff got a warrant.

Entire place was filled with contraband,

evidently skimmed from overseas shipments.

A man called Merch got to earn his handle.

Here.

Over here.

More down this way.

-Oh, that's a nice haul.
-Yeah.

Why do you think I called you guys?

Here he is Detective Vince Nguyen,
O.C. Homicide.

Hey. Detective Bosch, Detective Edgar,
LAPD Hollywood.

Don't touch anything, Hollywood.

Don't even think about touching anything.

That's a sweet suit. Is that new?

What are you, Fashion Police?

I know my Italians.

I got a soldier grifter
who accidentally drowned.

What's your intersect?

We're working a case, and we'd like
to take a look

at Jackson's most recent embark records.

So would we.

Specialist Stykes is here to keep us
from getting eyes on anything classified

until Army CID shows up to sort
what we can examine with our warrant.

And Stykes was Jackson's supervisor?

Doesn't look old enough to eat solid food.

Honestly, I don't think she knew
fuck-all about what was going on here.

-Sergeant Stykes.
-Sir.

Detective Bosch, Detective Edgar, LAPD.

We think Specialist Jackson
might be connected

to a caper up in Hollywood.

Sirs, I'm sorry, but I can't let you go
through any of this until CID gets here.

It'll be something that came in recently,
private military contractors.

Wouldn't know anything about that, sir.

You and Merch hang out?

Drink beer, talk shop?

No, sir.

I have a fiancé.

Jerry.

Oh, please do not touch anything
on the table.

Hey, hey, hey.

Come on. I said don't touch anything.

What is that?

That is motive.

Looks like Merch
was just another loose end.

What do you want to bet
your contractors ripped off

some corrupt Afghan war lord
they were paid to babysit?

So no record of the cash ever existing.

That's right. Fog of war, baby.

Oh, here comes the cavalry.

You guys are getting out just in time.

Me, I got a full day
of inter-agency clusterfucking.

-Good luck with that.
-Yeah.

DA wants us downtown.

-Us?
-Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Definitely one of ours.

-Can I touch it?
-Sure.

Yeah, it's been customized.

Carol, would you bring me one of the 414s?

Yeah, somebody's painted over it.

Professional.

-Professional owl painting.
-Well, artful anyhow.

Not some slapdash amateur.

Yeah.

See what I mean?

Yeah.

We're hoping to trace this owl
to the person who bought it.

Well, I'll open my books for you
if you like

but we sell several thousand
of these units each year

and almost all of them
are in big box stores

or online garden sites.

Wholesaling or retailing?

Oh, almost no contact with the end user,
unless there's a defect.

You know, all our products
are 100 percent money back guaranteed

but not if you alter them.

Why don't you give us a list
of the local brick and mortar

that sell your owls?

-Maybe we'll get lucky.
-Okay.

I can tell you that one was bought
in the last three months.

How do you know?

Oh, we changed the mold, fixed the horns,
leveled the eyes.

Those new units shipped September,
so had to be since then.

Okay.

That's helpful. Thank you.

Hey.

Whoever dolled up that bird,

tell him he's got a bright future
in pest control.

This is exactly what I've been harping on.

You are your own worst enemy.

-The frame won't hold up.
-Doesn't matter.

By the time it falls apart,
it'll be too late.

How long have you known?

You didn't tell her?

He didn't know. He was never a suspect.

Oh, right. Of course not.

Hollywood Station is one big society

for the protection
of Harry motherfucking Bosch.

When is your motion hearing
on Bosch's checkered history?

Next week.

You're going to lose it.

Pull Bosch.

Put Edgar on the stand.

Detective Edgar didn't hear Holland
admit that he committed the murder.

What do you want from me, Anita?
Your lead cop is toxic.

-Work around it.
-I am trying...

Jesus, you're such a coward.

Fowkkes should give you a special thanks
at his closing argument.

I'm not going to get caught short
at trial again because of you.

They killed Gunn for the frame.

Prove it before the jury sits.

-Did you ever reach Annabelle?
-Headed there next.

Heading there?

Harry, she's essential to us now.
I asked you to...

Going there next.

My job doesn't stop
just because you've got a trial.

-I'm sorry. I guess I forgot.
-Forgot what?

Harry Bosch. You do what you do.

The world adjusts.

-Something you want to say?
-Nope.

No way to get the money back.

Police were already there.

Nothing I could do about it.

Cops grind. It's in their DNA.

-Got to respect it.
-Took the money from a bacha bazi.

The Pentagon should give us medals.

Hey, who's the one that said this old guy
was nothing to worry about?

That was before he kept showing up
like a bad acid flashback?

Look, stay mindful.

Stay disciplined, on mission.

We're good.

If I see him again, I don't know.

The weed's talking shit to you, Woodrow.

Go surf.

Chill.

Yeah.

Hey, put this somewhere safe, huh?

Print was on the side
of the camera housing.

From all the dust over it,
probably not new.

The guy who set up the system.

That would be my first guess.

When he unpacked it, maybe no gloves.

You run it?

Am I the detective?

Of course, I ran it.
Got a name and CI number.

Mark Taylor. LAUSD teacher.

Yeah, that's where his prints got
on the system anyway.

No arrest history?

This is about your partner, huh?

-What is?
-Come on.

Off-book with the camera.
Now, all these rumors about Bosch.

-I put two and two together.
-And got seven.

No, Miguel.

There's nothing there. I owe you one.

No shit.

Annabelle in?

Are you... you one of the geezers
she's boning?

-LAPD.
-Oh, shit.

Sorry.

Oh, she... She's in Prague.

I'm... I'm a sublet.

-Prague?
-Yeah.

Booked this sweet gig on a series
about about witches and shit.

Spanish Inquisition.

Eight-month shoot.

-She in trouble?
-I'd say so.

You've reached Deputy DA Anita Benitez.

Leave a message and a number
I can contact you.

It's me. Crowe's a problem.

I'm around tonight if you want to talk.

Hi. Yeah.
Detective Jerry Edgar, Hollywood.

I need to locate an order
the murder books on an old 187.

Lester Smith. Assault case.

Yeah. I have the DR number right here.

I can just get a ride home
from practice, Dad.

Lauren's mom said you can stay
at their house until I'm done today.

You called Lauren's mom?

-I feel like I'm under house arrest.
-Oh, Mads, come on.

Did you talk to Mom about the travel team?

-I got to let Coach know.
-Detective Bosch,

what's the real story
with this Gunn murder you're a part of?

You guys couldn't find a Kardashian
to creep?

Are you his daughter?

So, Bosch, this guy,
you're chasing him for years.

He just turns up dead.
You don't see the coincidence in that?

No? No comment?

Detective, Andrew Holland has tweeted
that you're a serial liar.

-No comments?
-Tweet this, asshole.

Best not to engage.

-Like you'd know.
-What does that mean?

Where do you think I learned it?

-You said you wanted to be a cop.
-Eyes on the road.

Ten and 2.

Sometimes, getting in the way
is part of the job.

Pissing people off comes
with the territory.

Your territory.

How come Jerry never has stupid stuff
happen to him?

I don't know.

Maybe he's just not as pretty as I am.

If only plastic owls could talk.

Oh, it would save me from this, for sure.

I've got 17 local stores left to contact
about sales records.

Anything new on Gunn's?

A couple of decent prints
we missed the first time.

Entry, door, face plate, and latch bolt.

Like, whoever broke in held his finger up
against it after he picked it open.

Security chain.

Potter noticed the top of the door
was scuffed.

Killer snagged the chain
with fishing line,

looped it up over the door
and slid the guard frame.

Sounds like a two-man job.

Sounds like an assumption.

Educated guess.

When you do it, it's an educated guess,
but when I do it, it's an assumption?

Got to be cash they shipped back.
All the pieces line up.

-Not this cash, though.
-No. Too long ago.

But probably where they got
the idea in the first place.

Goshen says there's more money floating
around Afghanistan now

than there was in Iraq.

-Less oversight.
-But why not,

I don't know, drugs or weapons?

Anything else they bring in,

they're going to take a huge hit on
when they try to sell it here.

Cash is cash.

Yeah, but they still have to launder it.

Well, but nobody gives a shit
about that on this end,

except for maybe the taxes.

Perfect crime.

Till Sharkey unraveled it.

Where have you been?

There's a Crowe problem?

-She's in Europe shooting a TV show.
-Harry, damn it.

God. If you would've just...

There was nothing we could have done.
This is pure Holland.

He pulled some strings, got her a part.

She was probably making
her connection at Frankfurt

while you were still leaving her messages.

They tampered with my fucking witness.

Add that to all the other things
we have to prove.

We get together tonight?

Figure out where we're going to go
from here?

I can't.

I'm sorry.

Okay. Tomorrow?

I'll see how my day goes.

We should put eyes on Dobbs
and Marino in case they try to book.

Billets is going to pitch a fit
about extra bodies on overtime.

You're already in the doghouse.

I'll write it up
if you pretend it was your idea.

Swell.

Love that holiday vibe,
all the festive traditions.

Those special smells.

Detective, Chief would like a word.

I'm guessing he means you.

Note the time and date,
in case I never come back.

Wash.

J. Edgar. What's up?

Quick question about Bosch.

I'm starting to understand why you
and LT like the guy so much.

He's smart, loyal.

He's a pretty damn good detective
if you push past the dark part.

Plays it too close to the edge
for my taste, but okay.

He gets results.

Where is this going, Jimmy?

Well, I can't stop asking myself
what Bosch knows about Gunn

-he isn't telling us.
-Ask him.

Have you?

This doesn't get us to
who killed the man, Jimmy.

Come on.

Nobody wants to be in a position

where the guy who's got your back
can't be straight with you.

You know what?
I really don't feel comfortable

having this conversation with you
about my partner.

Hey, believe me, I've got no skin in.

-I'm just passing through but...
-Let me guess. RHD.

Yeah. Short list for the next desk,
or so they say.

Great. Just make sure
you don't step over Harry to get there.

That's not what this is.

I hope not.

May I ask where we're going?

In circles.

Should be a familiar journey for you.

Harry Bosch, Detective 3.

Nearly 10,000 sworn officers
in the Los Angeles Police Department.

Tell me why I spend so much of my time
dealing with the shit you stir up?

I just try to keep my head down,
do my job, Chief.

Not even remotely true.

Which, of course, is the quality

that recommends you
and indicts you, depending.

Those qualities weren't a problem
when you needed my help.

I'd like not to hear the name Bosch
in my morning briefing anymore.

How can we make that happen?

You could always fire me.

Short of that.

Sir, I have no control
over what people do or say about me.

If you're expecting me to cut you slack
for your current misadventures,

-you're mistaken.
-I do not expect anything.

Oh, I think you do.

And I think if you're not careful,
it will eat you alive.

Thanks for the ride.

Any time.

See you after practice.

What did you do with the ticket
I gave you, Harry?

-Didn't it get tossed?
-I got a reminder notice

-in the mail yesterday.
-Oh, shit.

They're going to drop an arrest warrant
on me.

I tried. I'm sorry.

It's all these new rules and regulations.

Okay, but, yeah.

In the old days, I could have
just reached out to the motor cop,

have him bang in sick on the day of court.

-Okay, but, I mean...
-You know, they've clipped our nuts, Phil.

So now you're the one
that's got to pay the ticket.

It's criminal. Have a better one.

-Ms Marta?
-That's me.

Santiago Robertson, LAPD.

Your name bumped up in a case
we're investigating.

I'd like to ask you a couple of questions.

-Now?
-Yes.

-Can you give me a minute?
-Sure.

It says that we... It's clear.

Bosch. Hi.

Amy Snyder.

-This 128 complaint...
-I want a rep.

Fine. Who?

Sergeant Mankiewicz.

Great. Great. Okay.

Well, you two let me know
when and where by tomorrow.

Or I'll make an insubordination
notification to your captain,

and we'll go from there.

She wants a lawyer.

She doesn't need one.

Tell him you want a lawyer.

Tafero, right?

Rudy?

I recognize the ex-cop sack.

She wants a lawyer, detective.

I'm just trying to clarify.

A month ago, you bailed a man
named Edward Gunn

-out of Rampart Jail.
-I didn't know him.

I just brought cash to the bondsman.

A favor for a friend.

Marissa, say the magic words.

And anyway, it's one of your cops
who killed him.

What's the friend's name?

I want a lawyer.

See?

Bosch went Dirty Harry on a freak
he couldn't convict.

Now it's come out and he's a walking IVD.

I suggest you duck and cover, amigo.

The shit storm is just starting.

Maybe I should be talking to you
about Edward Gunn, Rudy.

-I'd want a lawyer.
-Sure.

Pardon the interruptus.

I trust you got another little blue pill.

Out of stock? Fuck.

Ships after Christmas.

It's not even December. That's bullshit.

-Hey, hey, language, Mister.
-Don't mess with me.

I'm in the middle of a bid, Harry.

You should have shopped Black Friday.

Isn't that when all the best deals
are done?

That's what I keep telling him.

So listen, your request for surveillance
on the suspects in the Meadows caper,

I can't do it. Sorry.

Three homicides down.
One of them's a 16-year-old kid.

You don't even know for sure
if they got their shipment yet.

And we don't want to lose these guys.

If you and Bosch can find time
in your eight-hour day

to sit and watch them,
then knock yourselves out.

But I can't justify the extra manpower
and overtime

until you get something more concrete.

Same as it ever was.

Cut her some slack, Harry.

Damn!

Composite went out wider than we hoped.

Now, we're spending half our time
vetting calls from patrol cops

convinced they found our guy.

Though it was a gamble in a serial case.

And the DNA?

We've asked DOJ
for an expedited familial database run.

We'll see if we can find a relative,
work that way.

They giving you the usual runaround?

-Let me make a call.
-This is so fucked up.

If he goes to ground again,

we'll be waiting for the next kill
to catch him.

Then, try not to lose focus.
Do what you can.

Also thought that we get K-town Motors,
start jamming everybody on a bike.

But West Traffic's giving us static.

It's a good idea.

I can clear that up for you two.

Chief Irving. Great minds think alike,
I guess.

How's that?

Thought I'd drop in, go through
the investigation,

see what I can recommend.

You beat me to it.

No. No, I was just trying
to see how I could help.

All right. Thanks, Chief.

Nestor, I...

I heard the rumor
you've been fast tracked for chief.

Congratulations.

I appreciate that, Irv.

Big shoes to fill.

Yeah. Well, I got to tell you.

I don't agree with everyone
saying you're too young.

This is Pierce.

Oh, awesome.
I've been waiting on that print.

Go.

Oh, hold on.

You sure about that first name?

Take me to Cabo.

Convénzame.

Yo. Get a room, puta.

What? You one of those pussy-ass
18th Street vatos?

Longo gang, or don't bang, ese.

He'll live.

He's right.

Let's take this horizontal, girl.

You will never in a million years guess

who's been giving the high hard one
to Holland's assistant.

Tafero?

-Yeah. How'd you...
-But which one?

Wait a minute.

You mean there's more than one?

-Bosch.
-Harry, we got a match

-on the new print from the door at Gunn's.
-Tell it.

-Jesse Tafero.
-Shit.

-Younger brother.
-Do you know him?

No. Only that Rudy had one.

Me and Pierce are dropping
the hammer on Jesse tomorrow.

Shake him, see what falls out.

You want in?

-You want me in?
-Yeah.

It seems you have special insight
on this one.

I got a court thing early in the morning.

No problem.

It'll give us time to track him down.

Guess you can cross me off
your suspect list.

Yeah. You'd think.

That thing with those tabloid idiots
went online,

and Becca thought
it would be crazy awesome

to make a gif of me flipping them off.

Now, it's all over the school.

Is that good or bad?

Oh, you're talking to me again.

When was I not talking to you?

Becca's dad got in my grid square
this morning.

Yeah, I heard.

You didn't really try to fix his ticket,
did you?

I did not.

-I didn't think you did.
-Why is that?

You're kind of hard core about the rules.

For other people.

Am I going to create flak for you
and Becca's crew?

I'm so over them right now.

So maybe it's a good reason
not to join the travel team.

Becca didn't get asked to join
the travel team.

Everything all right with you?

Yeah.

-You going out tonight?
-No.

Why not?

Things change.

You're like a turtle.

Your shell's where you're safe,
but nobody gets under there with you.

Not really.

Not even me.

Is that what it feels like?

Sometimes.

Got to have ice cream on it, right?

Shit. Shoot.

Sorry.

Relax. I'll get you a new setup.