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.
Benitez: Harry?
Bosch?
Hey. Where'd you go?
I was thinking about my mom.
That's sweet.
Mm. Pintia Rioja.
Grace Billets knows her reds.
Billets: 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 coulda 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.
148.
- Oh. Good. - Ooh.
So, uh, 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.
- Huh. - 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"?
Ugh. 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.
- [beeping] - Crap! It's 170!
Oh, for God's sake. Watch out.
Out of the way, out of the way.
- Ohh! - 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.
[chatter]
[cheering, applause]
[sportscaster on TV]
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.
[laughing] Yes.
You look tired, J.
The Bosch still wearing you down?
You look great.
They're back there.
[cheering, applause]
Yo. Jack. Joe. We got a game outside.
I got a game here.
[phone buzzing]
- Look out, Mason. - Hey, come on, Mick.
- [newscaster on TV] - [chatter]
Oh, no.
...while 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.
[ding dong]
Trouble?
[ding dong]
Bosch.
♪♪ [theme]
♪ I got a feeling that I can't let go ♪
♪ I can't let go ♪
♪ I feel ♪
6, 7...
8...
9...
10.
[phone rings]
[ring]
[beep]
Bosch.
[phone ringtone]
[beep]
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.
[chuckle] 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.
[chuckle]
A man can dream.
[beep]
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.
Oh.
Oh. Manna from heaven.
Or the giant Seattle conglomerate
masquerading as such.
How'd your turkey turn out?
Don't ask.
You getting anything?
- Cataracts. - Ahem.
Seriously, no car, no kid.
We have to widen our perimeter.
Cross our I's and dot our T's.
Mm.
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.
Ah. 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.
[sigh] 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--
No. It's above your rank, Lieutenant.
But fuck this up, and it's on you.
Captain.
Ah. Well, welcome to my jurisdictional nightmare.
Better justify the drive down here.
Jerry's got the Black Friday Blues.
Black Friday. Is that, uh-- that still a thing?
Yes, it is, and mine just got spoiled
by a fed with a phone.
Ah, probably find whatever you need here.
So-- ahem--
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.
Uh, 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.
Uh, 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.
[phone buzzes, ring tone]
Ah, 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? - [beep]
Oh, yeah.
Definitely one of ours.
- Can I touch it? - Sure.
Ah.
Yeah, it's been customized.
Carol, would you bring me one of the 414s?
Mm-hmm.
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, uh, 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?
Ah, almost no contact with the end user,
unless there's a defect.
You know, all our products
are 100% money back guaranteed,
but, uh, 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?
We changed the mold,
uh, fixed the horns, leveled the eyes.
Those new units shipped, uh, September,
so had to be since then.
Okay.
That's helpful. Thank you.
Mm-hmm.
Hey.
Whoever dolled up that bird,
tell him he's got a bright future in pest control.
[laughing]
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.
[sigh]
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.
[sigh]
Did you ever reach Annabelle?
Headed there next.
Heading there?
Harry, she's essential to us now.
I asked you to pl--
Going there next.
My job doesn't stop
just because you've got a trial.
Wow.
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?
[sigh]
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?
Duh.
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.
Ooh. 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 2 and 2 together. - And got 7.
No, Miguel. There's nothing there.
I owe you one.
No shit.
Annabelle in?
Are you, uh...
you one of the geezers she's boning?
[laughing]
- LAPD. - Ah. Shit.
Sorry.
Uh, 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,
uh, Spanish Inquisition.
Eight-month shoot.
She in trouble?
I'd say so.
[buzzing]
You've reached Deputy DA Anita Benitez.
Leave a message and a number I can contact you.
[beep]
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.
Aw, Mads, come on.
Did you talk to Mom about the travel team?
- Detective Bosch. - 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? - [camera shutters clicking]
Detective, Andrew Holland has tweeted
that you're a serial liar. No comments?
Tweet this, asshole.
Best not to engage.
Uch. 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.
10 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.
[phone rings]
[beep]
Where have you been?
Benitez: 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.
[beep]
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.
[singing in Spanish]
Love that holiday vibe,
all the festive traditions.
Those special smells.
[belch, splatter, grunt]
[singing resumes]
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.
[sigh]
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.
- Ah, 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, y--
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.
[engine starts]
[bell rings]
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.
Bosch. Hi. Amy Snyder.
This, uh, 128 complaint--
I want a rep.
Fine. Who?
Sergeant Mankiewicz.
[whistle]
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.
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.
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, uh,
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.
[phone rings]
This is Pierce.
Ah, awesome.
I've been waiting on that print. Go.
Hold on.
You sure about that first name?
♪♪ [rap in Spanish]
Take me to Cabo.
Convénzame.
[kissing]
Yo. Get a room, puta.
[burp]
What?
You one of those pussy-ass 18th Street vatos?
Longo gang, or don't bang, ese.
Ooh.
[gasping]
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?
[phone rings]
[beep]
- 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.
[beep]
[giggling]
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?
Uhh.
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?
[clatter]
Shit. Shoot. Sorry.
[chuckling] Relax. I'll get you a new setup. m.