Bosch

Who eats a chili fucking dog before going out in rough water?

A 10-year-old?

Try seven Theta Delts with tequila hangovers.

Never gonna get this out of the seams and runnels.

Woody Woodrow gave me your number.

Alamos Cove.

I told him the break was for shit but he was paying cash.

Surfer. Last week.

-Day trip? -No. He stayed over.

Take a lot of gear out there with him?

Couple of shorties and some gnarly-ass suitcases I think were for camping.

-He bring it all back in? -Just the boards.

The shit I see, you learn not to ask.

I don't know Alamos Cove.

Santa Cruz Island.

I need you to take me out there where you dropped him off.

-Now? -Give me five minutes to change clothes.

City paying?

Nobody's paying you anything till you air out that boat.

It is outrageous that an artist of Andrew Holland's pedigree

should be subjected to this kind of malicious prosecutorial misconduct.

My client...

-You got him on tape? -He implicates himself in everything.

There is no way that Holland squirms out of this.

Not your worry anymore, though, is it?

-How's that? -Wounded in the line of duty.

Tax-free medical pension.

-You trying to get rid of me? -What?

God, no. I'm not...

Hold on.

-Yeah. -Lieutenant, I want to charter a boat

to Santa Cruz Island.

I need your approval.

All right, it sounds like you're already on a boat.

Great. I'll take that as a yes.

Bosch, what the fuck?

I think Woody Woodrow stashed his money there

and Dobbs has been tracking it.

You see any sign of him at all, you call in for backup.

-Is that clear? -It's just a recon.

Where on the island?

All over.

Bosch?

You know, retirement's sounding good right about now.

You bring people out here to surf a lot?

Middle of the week? This time of year?

Not really.

All the good fishing's been over on the other side.

Bring me in close to that boat.

I want to see who's here.

-Rudy. -Bosch, back so soon?

-Ms Benitez. -What's your pleasure?

- Skip the formalities... -J. Edgar.

Jimmy Olson here says you're expecting him.

I just wanted a quick word.

That's six. Okay, say goodbye.

-Wait. -About what?

You.

You kill a guy, next day, almost get killed yourself.

It's gotta be related.

I'm not interested in being a story.

Sure, but maybe you'd like to tell one?

Hell, cops get a bad rap every fuck-up.

Here's a case where you put your life on the line for something.

Or someone.

People should hear why.

Or not. Thanks for your time.

-Thomas Niese. -What?

Do some homework and get back to me.

N-I-E-S-E.

Ahoy!

Trying to embrace the ancient patois.

Why is he running the line to the shore?

Keeps you from drifting around on the current

if you only have one anchor.

A boat this big always carries two.

Must have lost their stern hook.

LAPD.

Anybody on board?

Son of a bitch.

Where would one stow their aft anchor?

Right in there.

Not there.

I'm going to need some twine

or some heavy gauge fishing line, duct tape, flashlight.

Put it in something I can carry.

After you drop me off, head around to the point and stay out of sight.

Make a sat phone call to this number, Lieutenant Billets.

Tell her I've got a suspect under surveillance

and I'm requesting backup and air support.

You don't even know where this guy is.

I know he's coming back.

Can I borrow your lid?

Tell me about the night of.

-We pull up. Jesse's driving. -The Cadillac.

Caddy, yeah. Jesse loves them.

9You boosted it?

Happy to cop to grand theft auto if you want to drop the rest of the beef.

Go on.

About the night of.

We pull up. Jesse's driving.

-The Cadillac. -Caddy, yeah.

Jesse loves them.

You boosted it?

Happy to cop to grand theft auto if you want to drop the rest of the beef.

Go on.

About the night of.

-We pull up. Jesse's driving. -The Cadillac.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fuck! Fuck.

Fucking low-tech old-school bullshit.

And you bought it.

Have crims secure Dobbs' boat when it gets in.

Moore's already working on the warrant.

I found traces of blood and a tactical knife

stowed under a seat cushion.

Same kind of one was used on Sharkey.

Copy that.

Listen, Harry, go do your FID statement.

I got them to agree that the walk-through can wait till tomorrow.

Maddie has been calling every five minutes.

What if you'd been killed?

I did my best to minimize the possibility of that happening.

-But still... -What if anything, Maddie?

Didn't happen.

-It could. -Some cops go their entire career

without ever firing their weapon on the job.

-And then there's you. -Not gonna happen.

Don't worry.

How'd your tournament go?

We got crushed.

Sunnyvale VC. They were freakishly huge.

I'm sorry.

It's what it is.

No amount of practice makes you taller.

Mom.

You weren't supposed to be here until Christmas.

-You want me to go back? -No way.

God, I missed you.

-And you're taller. -Do not go down that road.

-Where are you and Reggie staying? -Somewhere swanky, with a pool, I hope.

Reggie's in Shanghai.

-I actually hoped I could stay here. -No problem.

What's Reggie doing in Shanghai?

Where have you been?

The Billets' house. Long, long story.

Jerry got shot.

Harry had to chase the suspect on to an island...

Okay, it's 3 AM on a school night.

-Mom. -Yeah. She's right.

It's bedtime. I'll stay out here. Your mom can have my room.

That story can wait.

-No, I could sleep out here. -Really?

This is coming from a woman

who made me spend 3,000 dollars on a new mattress

the last time she moved in?

No.

-Come say good night? -Of course.

-Is Jerry okay? -He will be.

Look, if this is awkward,

tomorrow I can get an AirBnb till I find a permanent place.

You're here for good?

I guess I am, yeah.

Where is Reggie, really?

Okay. You don't want to talk about it.

Not tonight.

Thanks, Harry.

The way I'm hearing it, you went full Jason Bourne on that rock.

Every joint in my body aches.

-Sorry I couldn't be there for Dobbs. - No, you're aren't.

You get seasick, remember?

When they kicking you loose?

Tomorrow, maybe.

Anything I can do for you?

No.

Harry, we need to talk.

About what?

In person.

You gonna tell me you're gonna retire?

Face-to-face.

Okay.

I'll swing by.

All right.

"...John Caffrey."

John Caffrey.

Detective Bosch.

Mrs Niese, I was coming to see you.

No. Got me out of the house.

Here's just a few of his personal belongings he left behind at the shelter.

They didn't know where to send them.

Dune.

Tommy loved the sandworms.

Christ, I thought he pawned this.

It was my dad's.

You find who did it, Detective?

We did, yeah.

You kill him?

No.

But somebody else did.

You have my card if you need anything.