Bosch

- Good morning. - Harry.

Sit down and have some breakfast.

- You look like shit. - Thanks.

So do you. You sleep in that dress?

Game just broke up. I won 30k.

I was in the zone. I almost called and cancelled.

Congrats. Why didn't you?

- Coffee? - Please.

I'm good.

I'm going back to Vegas a little sooner than expected.

- What's going on? - Maddie was in a car accident last night.

- What? - She's fine.

She's just a little dinged up by the airbag.

- Airbag? - Shook up more than anything,

But I'm going home to deal with it.

- Who was driving? - Friend of Maddie's.

He has his license, the cops took a report, he's insured.

Was he drinking? Were they?

She says they weren't, and I believe her,

and that it was the other driver's fault.

Did she go to the E.R., get checked out?

Look, Harry, kids are stupid. They do stupid things, as you well know.

- Luckily, everybody's okay. - I'm not okay!

How about some parental supervision?

- Where the hell was Reggie? - At work.

God, I knew you'd act like this.

- You were here "in the zone." Nice. - Don't be an asshole.

You were in your own private zone our whole marriage.

- Reggie and I are not absentee parents. - Really?

Fuck you. You know, you're the poster boy for absentee parent.

- I got to get to the airport. - Okay, I'll drive over on the weekend, talk to her.

Don't be ridiculous.

Jesus Christ, Eleanor. She could've been killed.

I am handling this, Harry. If you want to take a more active role

in our daughter's life, we can discuss that later.

Bosch.

I didn't think it would be so hard.

You've been through this, Harry. Give me some advice.

What are we talking about, Waits? What do you want?

My mother died... yesterday.

And I see her lying there,

and I think about that moment...

the longest trip we ever take.

- Sorry for your loss. - She's gonna rot like a piece of fruit,

and there's... there's nothing I can do about it.

You understand?

This fucking situation that I find myself in...

Maybe I can help.

Oh, a-are you gonna bury her for me?

No, thanks. That... That's a son's duty.

Why don't you put her with the others?

- The others? - Your other victims.

You don't steal shovels, you collect souls, remember?

Can't she rest in peace with the others...

Wherever you put them?

Do you not understand anything? I loved her.

Bury her with them, those fucking whores?

Are you fucking kidding?!

Sorry. Forget I mentioned it.

Oh. You're sorry.

- What's on your agenda today? - Well, the usual.

And a sit-down with Isaiah Ott.

I thought you loathed the man.

I do... and he me.

If there's one thing the right Reverend Isaiah Ott

desires more than any other in this world,

it's his fat thumb on the carotid artery of the LAPD.

- So, why the sit-down? - We're gonna come

to an agreement, the good reverend and I...

- a meeting of the minds. - About what?

- What can Ott do for you? - It's not what he can do for me...

- but what he can do for Richard o'Shea. - "Rick" o'Shea? Really?

New mayor, new chief of police.

I see. Don't forget...

just because a man wears his collar turned 'round

doesn't mean he can be trusted.

Tell me something I don't know.

How's it going?

Are you familiar with the term "needle in a haystack"?

- It's there somewhere. - And what makes you so sure?

I spent last night looking at my MacLaren file

and found a pattern, a recurring notation... A-C 102.

A-C 102?

It's a code they use when they put you in solitary.

It'll help us find Waits' real name.

- They put kids in solitary? For what? - Infractions, attitude, disrespect.

That was you, I'm betting.

Oh, I gave them a lot of lip, ran away all the time, too...

- other stuff. - Other stuff? Like what?

Fighting mostly. I was mad 24/7.

I'd kick your ass if you bumped me in the lunch line

or talked shit about my mother.

So, I spent a lot of time in the trunk... so did Waits.

If that notation's not in the file, put it aside.

Harry, it's a fuckin' youth home.

There's gonna be more files with the notation than without it

- Don't be negative. It's a start. - Yeah, what she said.

Hilarious.

Ignore that bullshit, Harry.

Tech unit pinged Waits' phone... Rosedale Cemetery.

Waits' mother passed. That's why he called me.

Have the task force send a unit over, get any video.

Ping his phone every 30 minutes.

- Yeah, and maybe we get lucky. - Maybe I win the lottery.

- You got to buy a ticket first. - Is that how that works?

Jesper. Says he's got something to show us on Delacroix.

Okay.

- Hey. How you doing, Jules? - Like I got tit-punched by a gorilla.

You're all right, Brasher.

- Sarge. - Hang on a second.

Yeah, Brasher, captain wants to see you A.S.A.P.

Yeah.

Pounds: What's the prognosis?

Doctor says I could be back on active duty in two to three weeks.

- And what do you say? - Three weeks sounds like a long time.

I could use 10 more like you.

But instead of having 10 more,

I'm down one because your story's bullshit, isn't it, Brasher?

- Have you ready our statement? - I don't have access to the file, sir.

It wouldn't matter if Bosch had backed your story.

You think the forensics came back in your favor?

You think they found GSR on his hands?

- I don't know. - You do. They didn't.

Everything they found supports Stokes' version of what happened, not yours.

Maybe I should have my league rep here, sir.

I'm trying to save your job, but you have to meet me halfway.

How do I do that?

Detective Bosch initiated a sexual relationship with you

against department policy. You need to report that

- relationship and file a complaint. - A complaint?

You felt pressured into the relationship

because he was your superior... coerced.

You thought it would hurt your career if you didn't comply.

Well, technically, he wasn't my superior,

- and I didn't feel pressured. - It was an inappropriate relationship

according to department policy, was it not?

How does filing a harassment complaint

undermine his statement about what happened in the garage?

It doesn't. It makes it irrelevant.

No one downtown wants to see a sex scandal in the papers,

especially involving Bosch.

File the complaint, withdraw your false statement,

and command buries your third unsat like it never happened.

But he didn't coerce me. It was mutual.

He fucked you, Brasher.

Every which way, Bosch fucked you...

fucked you right out of your career with the LAPD.

You gonna let that stand?

Can I think about it?

Don't take too long.

- Meantime, you're back on light duty. - Thank you, captain.

- Chief Irving. - Reverend.

Can I give you the 10⢠tour?

Oh, I'm familiar with this church.

I used to come here every Sunday with my parents.

Of course. I forget you're from the community.

I don't.

- What can I do for you, chief? - Well, actually,

I think there's something we can do for each other.

- I'm listening. - You could use your considerable

charisma and your standing in the community

to support Richard o'Shea's candidacy for mayor.

I thought you and he were mortal enemies.

Alliances shift. One has to be...

flexible in this world.

Well, assuming the quid pro quo is what I think it is,

what would I get in return from you

and the new mayor for my support?

Assuming you deliver, what would you want in return, reverend?

A halt to gestapo tactics here on the streets of South L.A.,

to certain policing policies, to racial profiling.

We are hardly the gestapo,

and overheated, hateful rhetoric doesn't help.

My apologies.

I only mean to say that it is in both our interests to avoid

anything resembling a Ferguson, Missouri, situation here in L.A.

- The last thing any of us want. - So we understand each other?

It appears so.

Edgar: Jesper, what's so important, you couldn't just

- send over a report? - I wanted to show you something.

I was doing a final log on the Delacroix evidence.

The backpack had skateboard straps, right?

There was no skateboard found at the grave site.

But there was one collected from Nicholas Trent's house.

We dismissed Trent as a suspect.

No evidence connects him to Arthur, and he moved to

that neighborhood two years after the kid was killed.

I was just looking to see if we missed anything

before I sent it all to the property division.

So, just to be thorough, I thought I'd check to see

if poly-fibers from the backpack straps

might've got caught in the wheel assemblies.

I didn't find any fiber... but I found this.

This kind of board was fancy back in the day.

Most kids would've put their mark on it.

- "A.D. 1993." - Arthur Delacroix.

God damn.

'93... the year before he died.

- Nicholas Trent had the kid's board. - Good work, Jesper.

- We need photos of all this. - Will do.