Bosch

Aw, shit.

Woman: Detective Bosch.

Detective Bosch, any word on Raynard Waits?

Detective Bosch, is it true that the victim was a prostitute

and that her body was found in a dumpster?

Ask Nate Tyler. He knows all the sordid details.

She worked the neighborhood, so we talked to the manager

of the Hawaiian Sands Motel where the victim tricked.

He didn't see Waits pick her up,

neither did any of her friends.

Johnson: And that minivan we're looking for...

A security cam on a storage facility picked it up

drmng into the alley 7:42 P.M.,

exiting six minutes later.

- Grab a plate? - Couldn't see it.

But there's a warehouse across from the murder scene.

They've got a security camera in their parking lot.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Waits went through a lot of trouble

to stage these murders like your mother's.

Why? Why is he... why is he making it so personal?

Both came through the system... similar past.

Fuckin' bromance, that's what it is...

Waits' idea of a box of chocolates.

Let me know if you find anything on those surveillance tapes.

You better hurry.

Your compadre might not be around much longer.

Then I'll miss your inspired leadership, captain.

I've learned so much from you.

I'm not a lone voice

crying in the wildernessanymore, Bosch.

A lot of peopleare onto you.

Talk to patrol, lately?

Mankiewicz: Okay, next, Officer Jones here is going to review

the penal-code sections relating to the laws of arrest

that you all received in your training bulletins.

All right, all right.

I know you know this.

It's a post requirement.

So let's just get through it.

Do you need something, detective?

If you don't mind. I'll be quick.

All right, come on in. You have the floor.

As you all know, John Stokes is now the primary suspect

in the murder of Arthur Delacroix,

the Laurel Canyon bones case.

Oh, big fuckin' surprise.

Hey, let the man talk. And watch your mouth.

We got to assume Stokes knows we're after him.

He missed his last appointment with his P.O.

And hasn't been to work.

He's in the wind.

Yeah, whose fault is that?

Listen, I get where you're coming from,

but Detective Bosch put the Delacroix case together.

We wouldn't even be standing here talking

about Stokes if it wasn't for him.

We got to find this guy.

I need you to hit the pavement, dig a little deeper.

Edgewood: Can you even charge this asshole?

It was 20 years ago. He was a juvie.

Let the D.A. figure that out.

All right, pass this out, put this on your visor.

Check your local smokehouses, talk to your snitches...

Anyone who might've seen him.

Edgar: I just spoke to patrol.

I asked for a little extra effort on Stokes.

- How'd that go? - Edgewood busted my balls.

Our job's to bring him in and close the case.

Tyler's article? Asshole.

Handed Waits a fuckin' instruction manual.

What's she doing here?

Just got assigned to detectives'... Billets' grunt.

Marvelous.

Lieutenant wants all detectives to upgrade their personnel packages.

Set it there.

Detective Edgar.

Come in.

Brasher.

- They got to put her somewhere. - "They"?

- You mean Pounds. - Mm.

Captain makes the assignments.

He could've placed her anywhere... vice, subpoena control.

He's putting it to me. I don't dig it.

- You brought iton yourself. - How?

'Cause I didn't back her fairy tale shooting story?

No, because you slept with her.

What if she files a beef? You could be in deep shit.

Thanks for the heads up.

Pimentel: Sir, have you seen this individual at all?

Grace.

Thanks for coming.

I could use a drink.

Yeah, I thought maybe you might.

What are you having?

Fat Tire, please.

Uh, and Templeton with a splash, neat.

Bartender: No problem.

I thought you were a Stoli girl?

Eh, friend turned me on to rye...

Kind of like it.

Look, Harry, I'm sorry about this morning.

You were right. I'm the original slow learner.

Nah, you were having a shitty day,

and I did not make it any better.

Oh, come on.

Waits, Stokes, Brasher...

Jesus, Harry, could you digthe hole any deeper?

Halfway to China. You forgot Pounds.

Yeah, why does he have such a hard-on for you?

Eh, it goes back before you were there.

He was a lieutenant, ran the Detective Bureau...

Didn't know what he was doing.

Should've known somebody that incompetent

was sure to be promoted.

Yeah, promoted off our hard work in spite of his ineptitude.

Templeton neat and a Fat Tire.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

To China.

Ahh.

My friend says that everything that happens

was meant to happen... because it happened.

- Deep. - Mm.

Is this your rye friend or some other?

No, same friend.

Close friend.

You are not the only dumbass in the division.

I am... I'm in a relationship with a colleague.

Oh.

Maybe that's why I gave you so much shit...

Mad at myself.

Mm.

- Let's hope your friend's right. - Mm.

It's all meant to happen.

Bosch.

Waits: It's New Year's Eve tomorrow.

Any plans?

Other than finding you? No.

Ah, I like your can-do attitude, Harry...

Something else we share.

What are your plans?

Well, I do have plans.

Well, I'd say more of a New Year's resolution.

Yeah?

You know, Harry, these phone calls,

they're just not the same as face-to-face.

I like to look into a person's eyes.

Still, I'm... I'm gonna miss these conversations.

How's that?

It's time for me to go away.

Go away? You mean to your magic castle?

Oh, you know about that, huh?

Sure.

That's where Reynard the fox goes... to wait.

How's that sump pump working?

Castle a little drier?

Oh, congratulations.

You figured out my nom de guerre... finally.

I'd beginning to wonder if you ever would.

I'm getting off now.

We also know about Maclaren.

Is that why you singled me out...

Dogs from the same kennel?

When they put you in the trunk, Waits, how'd you do time?

I did baseball stats.

You're just trying to keep me talking.

By the way, I know how you found out about the starfish.

Yeah, I was proud of that one.

I'm getting off the phone now.

We're closer than you think.

A bientot, Harry.

So, we got another pic of the van from that warehouse.

Johnson: We got the plates, too.

Unfortunately, they belong on a 2001 Honda Accord...

Owner had it in long-term parking at L.A.X.

You can see the driver's face.

It's obscured by the visor,

but look at that in the rearview.

It's a handicap tag.

Hmm. Said his mother was infirm.

Well, we're still going through the Maclaren files.

We're trying to narrow down the kids

who both fit the time frame and spent time in isolation.

Think they might've digitized this shit?

We still have several hundred to go.

What else you gonna do on New Year's?

Excuse me. A-are these yours?

No.

Oh.

Ah, they're persols. I found them.

Someone's gonna be looking for them.

I wonder if there's a lost-and-found around here or something.

Oh, uh, I don't know.

Oh, what a beautiful baby.

Hi. How old?

Six months.

Oh, he's just a little guy.

Look at him.

Hey, you.

We have an 8-year-old.