Bosch

Morning.

Did you sleep?

A little.

I made some eggs.

I spoke to my lieutenant.

You can come to work with me today.

Help out.

And do what?

Kick down doors, join SWAT, grab up some bad guys.

Seriously.

Answer phones, get coffee, make copies.

Lieutenant Billets' daughter's doing it, too.

And you'll get to keep an eye on me all day at the station.

I'm not even gonna be there most of the day.

If you don't want to,

your mom can keep an eye on you here all day.

- Is it okay with Mom? - I ran it by her last night.

Okay.

Mom says I should have counseling.

Yeah-huh.

Well, we'll see how you're feelin'

in a couple of days, right?

But you gotta eat.

No cop goes to work on an empty stomach.

You should make yourself some toast, too.

Ugh, what is it about L.A.?

Is it the air or the light?

The way the city goes on and on.

It can make you feel so lost.

I didn't know what was gonna happen to Maddie.

If they were gonna hurt her, how they were gonna hurt her.

- I felt so helpless. - Me, too.

- I was terrified. - So was I.

I keep kickin' myself in the ass

for not anticipating Marks' move.

I should have protected you.

You can't protect us all the time.

Oh, yeah?

Why not?

Something needs to change, Harry.

This life, the way we're living.

I can't help but think that...

something like this was bound to happen.

Well, that's not on you, Eleanor,

that's on Joey Marks.

What we do, Reggie and I,

it puts us in contact with people like Marks.

It's his neighborhood that we live in,

and that puts Maddie at risk.

Have you spoken to Reggie?

Not yet.

I don't know if I...

will... what... what would I say, I mean...

He needs to know, Eleanor.

Yeah, I guess so.

Okay. Gotta go.

Remember where the weapons are, right?

Record cabinet, bedroom closet.

Bosch. Shouldn't a dangerous suspect like that

- be in cuffs? - Hey, guys.

Meet my daughter Maddie.

Oh, that was my first guess,

then I thought, no, way too good looking.

Detectives Johnson and Moore,

AKA Crate and Barrel.

- Crate and Barrel? - Guess which is which.

Maddie's here helping out a couple of days.

Oh, really? Finally, a Bosch

who knows something about police work.

There's people you can learn from here.

These two, not so much.

Good to have you here, Maddie.

- Yeah, second that. - Thanks.

Hey, Maddie. Welcome.

- Hi, Jerry. - Don't talk to that guy.

Hey, Lis, this is my daughter Maddie.

Oh, my mom said you were coming in.

- Hi. - Hi.

So, I have some, like, shredding to do.

Sure, let's do it.

Hey.

Hey. How's she doin'?

According to her, okay.

All right, how about Eleanor?

Eleanor is taking a long, hard look at her life.

Well, being a kidnap will do that to a gal.

Anything else I can do, let me know.

Thank you.

Jerry, what's new?

Layla's visa app.

Lilliet Saroyan entered the country

four years ago at 22.

Single, no relatives in the U.S.

tourism.

You need a sponsor to get a visa.

Check out the person/entity paying for her trip.

Marina Oresh, North Kingsley Avenue, East Hollywood.

That'd be Little Armenia.

Listed Oresh has a U.S. contact, too.

Maybe they've kept in touch.

Maybe. Bosch.

When and where?

On our way.

Ho-ho. D.A.'s office.

Rykoff's lawyer wants to deal.

One night in county, he's ready to flip.

- Wouldn't you? - Hell, yeah.

What took him so long?

Maddie.

Main 9-3-2-4, report to infirmary.

The clinic?

So the rest of the jail doesn't know Rykoff's talking.

- He's at room B. - Thanks.

What the hell's this? Where's his lawyer?

- He doesn't need a lawyer. - Since when?

Since he's a federal agent and he's committed no crime.

- You're shittin' me. - Told you, Bosch.

You had the wrong guy.

You planted a gun on the wrong man, detective.

- Fuck you! - You planted a gun on the wrong man.

- He's our undercover agent. - Task force.

You compromised him and our whole operation.

I did not plant the gun.

If you didn't, who did?

I don't fuckin' know who did.

And I don't give a shit if he's a federal agent.

We found the murder weapon in his house.

We have his prints on our victim.

And you gave us his travel records,

which put him in L.A. the night of.

Oh. Beautiful. Fuckin' records are phony.

We needed to get him back here in one piece

after you fucked up our operation.

- Let's everybody just calm down. - Who the hell are you?

I'm the guy who's gonna tell you how this thing plays out.

Let's hear it.

Mr. Rykoff's been undercover with the Marks organization,

a trusted asset and a vital liaison

between Marks and his Russian associates.

The Russians bring dope and women into the U.S.

through cartel border tunnels,

send cash and guns south.

They do business with the cartels,

and the cartels do business with the terrorists.

And any day now, these tunnels will be used

to move explosives and terrorists

into this country.

ISIS and Al Qaeda here on American soil.

- You get the picture? - Yeah, yeah, I get the picture.

Why didn't you tell me who you were,

what the deal was?

I was undercover.

You found a gun in my house that I didn't put there.

I don't break cover for dirty cops.

- You callin' me dirty? - Prove you're not.

Fuck you, Rykoff. And what is your real name, anyway?

Man, I ain't tellin' you shit.

We're not gonna tell you that.

It is crucial that Marks continues to believe

that Rykoff is who he thinks he is.

You're keeping him under?

Yeah. I like being lucky.

Suits me.

Marks gets a hint that we've infiltrated his organization,

he will shut everything down,

and cauterize the problem. He's done it before.

- So what do we do? - Nothing.

At the arraignment,

Rykoff's attorney will alert the judge to

a fault in the search warrant.

The judge'll toss the gun, he'll dismiss the charges,

Rykoff will be released.

What about us? We have a homicide investigation here.

Right. You go about your business.

Just make sure you stay away from ours.

And provide us with a play-by-play.

So we know what the fuck you clowns are up to.

Harry. Come on, let's go.

Daily reports, gentlemen.

Hey. You want to go to Pechanga this weekend,

play some blackjack? You know, celebrate.

Oh, that was some ride.

Celebrate what? What was some ride?

Oh, uh, this... This, uh, chick

that he picked up after work last night.

No, I'm tellin' you, man.

Junior here, he's hell on the ladies.

- Uh-huh. - Yeah, right.

He didn't believe you.

I wonder why.

You want to go up to Pechanga? Let's do it.

Uh, yeah, sure.

I got money to burn.

Oh, yeah. No, I know you do.

All right. Let's hit the bricks, all right?

Ah. Another day, another dollar.

Let's go.

So, who the hell planted the gun?

Why frame Rykoff?

Somebody in the organization