02x09 - Queen of Martyrs

[bunniefuu]

g*nf*re erupted outside the First National Pacific Bank Monday morning.

Around the Sylmar Shopping Plaza, customers stopped to take notice when a confrontation...

She's a cool customer.

She's like dry ice: cold and hot.

Don't touch.

You will get b*rned.

Police continue to search for former LAPD detective Carl Nash, alleged ringleader of a crew of corrupt...

A babe like her--

Mm-hmm.

...tangled up with a lug like him.

Do-re-mi, baby. Do-re-mi.

Ha.

...stolen vehicles.

Police departments throughout Los Angeles area continue to pursue Nash.

Detective, before we start, a few ground rules.

Ground rules.

For the last 48 hours, my client has answered every question put to her.

She's cooperated fully with RHD and FID detectives.

She's here of her own volition.

I won't allow you to bully her.

Bully.

Mrs. Allen, more than anyone, wants to know who k*lled her husband.

Well, then maybe she can tell me how Carl Nash knew she'd be at that bank that morning.

As I've said until I am blue in the face, I don't know.

Did you double-cross him, or did he double-cross you?

I knew the man to say hello to at the front gate.

Was it your idea or his idea?

Was what his idea or mine?

To k*ll your husband.

Detective--

I had nothing to do with my husband's death.

When you looked in that empty safe deposit box, it must have been a shock.

I went there to collect what was mine legally.

What did you expect to find?

Documents, papers, photographs.

I had no idea what Tony had in there.

Cash?

You're busy concocting a fantasy, detective.

It never happened.

What a grim workplace you inhabit.

Does it ever get you down?

I kind of like it. It inspires me.

I bet it does.

Suits you.

If you think this is grim, imagine what prison is like.

If Carl Nash k*lled my husband, he deserves to rot in one for the rest of his life.

Where do you think Layla is?

Don't know, don't care.

Sure you do. She's got the money, right?

Your money.

You and your stories, detective.

She got to that safe deposit box the day after your husband's body was found.

The box was in her name, too.

She didn't have to wait for probate.

What do you think's in that backpack?

I'm betting it's not the Allen family photos.

Layla outsmarted you and Nash both.

Have a nice chat?

She's had two days to get her story straight while Edgar and I jump through hoops on the bank.

Where are we on Allen's other five accounts?

Frozen. I called the IRS.

Told them there were laundered funds in those accounts.

She can't touch them.

So, speaking of the merry widow?

Can't go to the DA with what we've got.

As of now, she walks.

Where's your car?

Let's take this one.

[siren blares]

Mrs. Allen, I'm Martin Weiss.

We met a couple of years ago At Freddie Macnekian's funeral.

Yeah, I know who you are. Ed, what is this?

Mr. Weiss has a proposal for you.

♪ I got a feeling and I can't let go ♪
♪ I got a feeling and I can't let go ♪
♪ I got a feeling and I can't let go ♪
♪ I got a feeling and I can't let go ♪
♪ I got a feeling and I can't let go ♪
♪ I got a feeling and I can't let go ♪
♪ I got a feeling and I can't let go ♪
♪ I can't let go ♪
♪ I feel ♪

The man who had my son m*rder*d was in our sights, and now he's gone.

He'll turn up. It's just a matter of time.

I swore I'd look him in the eye.

Might not work out that way.

You and Edgar will now be part of RHD's overarching investigations.

So I gather. Eyes and ears?

Eyes and ears. That'll be all, detective.

Bosch, Edgar.

Where is everybody?

Out b*ating the bushes.

Thanks for stopping by.

Hey, we're here.

We got another case, you know.

The Tony Allen m*rder.

You had eyes on our suspect since you questioned her?

Mrs. Allen? No, we don't have the manpower.

Tips are coming in fast and furious.

We're checking out leads from here to Tucson.

She give you anything?

I didn't lay a glove on her.

We want you to keep working the Allen m*rder, but Nash is now the priority.

What's the current thinking on his whereabouts?

He dropped his hostage off at the edge of Angeles Forest on Highway 14.

Took her a couple of hours to get to a phone.

She said he was headed north on 14 toward Lancaster and Palmdale, which is ground zero at the moment.

Ex-cop. Knows the moves.

He would have ditched the car by now, right?

That was our assumption, too.

We're waiting for it to turn up.

He might have been too injured to stop to switch cars.

It was a serious g*nsh*t wound.

He was dragging that leg.

Maybe he hasn't gotten that far.

Maybe he's holed up somewhere closer in.

Okay. So what do you want us to do?

Follow the g*ns.

From the sh**t.

We collected six weapons from the scene.

Nash's crew had no serial numbers on their weapons.

Firearms has them now.

It'll take them a couple of days.

They'll call you when they're ready for you to follow up.

Okay, no problem. What else?

The DA's negotiating a deal with O'Grady, pushing it through.

Exigent circumstances with Nash at large.

We could use one of you at the first interview.

Ask about the Allen case.

Let us know.

Keep us in the loop.

For real this time.

The guy can be anywhere.

[panting]

[grunting]

Ohh.

Ohh.

God damn it. Ohh.

Come on. Uhh.

Uhh.

Ohh!

It sucks we don't have eyes on her.

Harry, I've got an idea for keeping tabs on Veronica.

Write a warrant for her GPS tracker.

Release the Bentley.

At least then we'll know where she is when she's driving that.

That's good.

We'll need a tracker on the Range Rover, too.

I'll include it.

But then we got to get it on her car, get past the gate.

Put on your ninja slippers.

[chuckling] Funny.

We'll figure out an excuse to go see her.

That'll make her lawyer happy.

Oh, yeah.

Ooh, that's quite the f*ck-you.

Isn't it?

She has family in Armenia.

We can contact them, see if they've heard from her.

How do you know that?

Mr. Marks had me do a background check on them.

He did that for all Tony's chippies?

Layla was an exception.

For the life of me, I don't see it.

What was so special about her?

Mousy little thing.

Tony was in love with her.

She was Armenian.

Mr. Marks needed to know she was on the level.

What would he think now?

[chuckle]

She surprised us all.

So have you considered our proposal?

[scoff] 50%?

Huh.

Once the funds are recovered, you want this to be over. I can make that happen, intercede on your behalf.

With the organization?

Or I can make it go the other way.

You'll end up with nothing.

50%? That is f*cking--

Only... fair.

Fair enough.

Thanks for bringing me here, Dad.

Best chocolate shake in L.A.

You always say that.

I do?

Best pizza, best pancakes.

Well, if I don't know, who does?

How's your shake?

Oh, it's the best chocolate shake I've ever had.

Ha-ha, smart ass.

Your mother doesn't know what she's missing.

I swear I think she's going vegan on us.

She's always talking about gluten this and soy that.

This isn't gluten-free, is it?

I think we're safe.

Bet you'll be glad to have the house to yourself again.

Quite the contrary.

It's been really nice for me having you around.

It's time you went home.

See your friends, get back to your routine.

Get ready for school.

Ugh.

I'll miss you.

Me, too.

Do you know what Mom's going to do?

Have you talked to her?

A little.

She sees some new possibilities in front of her-- a chapter of her life she thought was closed.

She keeps talking about big changes.

It's kind of freaking me out.

Maddie, your mother's a very smart woman.

She and Reggie will figure it out.

Uhh...

[doorbell buzzes]

Katherine: Yeah, we're closed.

Kat?

[panting]

It's Carl.

[lock clicks]

Carl?

Kat.

Jesus, what happened?

Help me.

Ohh!

Clean through and through.

You are lucky it missed your femoral.

Oh, I'm lucky you're a large animal veterinarian.

You're a funny guy, Carl. You always have been.

Secret of my success.

I'm serious.

If it had hit your femoral--

I'd be f*cked.

You'd be dead.

You may still be.

You belong in a hospital.

There's no telling how much nerve and muscle damage you've got.

I'll put you on antibiotics, but you ought to be on an IV.

Katherine, is there anything you want to ask me?

Nope.

You don't follow the news?

I don't have a TV. You know that.

You've got internet?

I don't want to know what's going on in the world.

That's why I moved out here.

[grunt]

Hey.

Keep me in the dark, Carl.

Okay?

That little so-- Come here.

That little scar on your lip.

I've already told you about that.

Tell me again. Refresh me.

I got kicked by a horse. I've had it ever since.

Ohh.

Thank you so much.

Right over there.

Thank you.

[car alarm chirps]

[phone buzzes]

All right. I know this is the initial interview and we're just getting the lay of the land here, but let's cut to the elephant in the room.

Nash: where is he?

Ahem. I don't know.

You must have some idea.

[sigh] He'd disappear days on end.

Wouldn't answer his cell.

He'd say he was out where there was no cell coverage.

You said she could give us Nash.

On a platter legally.

We never said she knew his current whereabouts.

I have a signed agreement with the DA.

Do you have more questions?

Riley, Piccininni, Arceneaux, all dead.

That was the crew. He kept it tight.

Who sh*t Tony Allen?

Riley.

How do you know?

I was there.

I flagged him on his way home.

So he stopped to help you.

Right.

Let's get back to George Irving.

Nash had big plans for him... till we found out he was an IA rat.

Who sh*t him?

Riley, probably.

I don't know for sure.

What do you know about Arceneaux's su1c1de?

Wasn't.

How do you know?

I was there.

Who actually pulled the trigger?

Riley.

All three murders? That's convenient.

He was Nash's boy. Did his wet work.

[sigh]

What about Veronica Allen?

[snort] That bitch.

Where does she fit in?

Carl was playing her.

In what way?

He was boning her.

Said she was in love with him.

You sure she wasn't playing him?

[scoff] That bastard.

Who? Tony?

Divorce papers. Did you know?

No.

Oh, big f*cking deal.

He was going to leave me the house with two mortgages.

sh*t.

My husband passed away recently.

My condolences.

Mm.

As executor of his estate, I'm authorized to assemble his finances.

Of course.

I found that receipt in his desk.

How can I help you, Mrs. Allen?

A year ago you sold my husband $1.1 million of bearer bonds.

That's correct. A legal transaction.

Oh, I'm sure.

The bonds are missing. I'm trying to locate them.

I'm sorry to hear that.

It's almost impossible to recover bearer bonds if they're lost or stolen.

Hmm. I know that.

I also know that bearer bonds are used for money laundering, tax evasion, and other illicit business transactions.

You're very well informed.

Hmm. My husband was a money launderer.

He told me he was a producer of adult entertainment.

Please. Let's cut the crap, Mr. Morada.

You knew the real source of my husband's income.

You helped him wash it.

That would be very hard to prove.

What you couldn't have known was that some of that money that you and my husband laundered Tony stole from his cousin Joey Marks.

Now, obviously the Armenians don't know you were involved in that, or we wouldn't be sitting here.

Well, you certainly wouldn't.

I appreciate your discretion.

But they will if you don't help me find my f*cking money.

Rykoff estimated Tony Allen skimmed upwards of $4 million.

Also, Jer--

Yeah.

An hour ago, Veronica Allen visited a bond trader downtown.

She's on her way home now.

So they still issue these-- these bearer bonds?

No. But there's still some floating around.

Hmm. All right. We're checking out.

First thing in the morning.

We need to get that second tracker on her other car.

Let's go make nice with Mrs. Allen.

I was awfully hard on her yesterday, and I feel just plain sick about it.

Community relations. I'm all in.

Detective, my lawyer told you to stay away from me.

I came to apologize.

I didn't think your lawyer would mind.

Then come in and have a drink.

I'm on duty.

Come in while I have a drink.

[shutter clicks]

Sure I can't entice you?

No. No, thank you.

Well, you were saying?

We've changed our assessment of the case.

The surviving officer's cooperating.

She's given a statement.

She has?

According to her, Nash planned your husband's m*rder, and she and his accomplices carried it out.

[scoff]

Carl Nash is now the sole focus of our investigation, but I wanted to apologize on behalf of the department for suggesting you were involved in any way.

Well, you don't know how much I appreciate that.

And I'd appreciate it if you kept our conversation confidential.

When we catch Nash, we'll need you to testify.

Testify to what, detective?

Hmm, that'll depend on his defense.

I'm sure he'll try to cut a deal to stay off death row and implicate as many other people as he can.

Hmm. You'll have to catch him first.

Oh, we will.

He was seriously wounded in the sh**t.

Most likely he's holed up somewhere weak as a kitten.

We'll scoop him up, and he'll start talking.

Hmm.

Well, let's hope that happens.

We're counting on it.

Anyway, have a nice evening.

I'll see myself out.

He's up to something.

Of course he is.

Men only say they're sorry when they want something.

Let me take you to dinner.

I know what you want.

Can you blame me?

No. If I were you, I'd want me, too.

I won't be a minute.

Carl: You got to have a lot of upper body strength to hand line.

Big, heavy bastard like the tuna?

You got to go arm over arm, pitch and pull, pitch and pull, none of this rod and reel, sit back and crank sh*t.

The Old Man and the Sea.

That's me.

[chuckling]

When was the last time you were there?

Otter Banks?

Ten years ago, maybe yet.

sh*t. My brother was still alive.

You know what I love about the ocean?

I love how it doesn't give a flying f*ck about you.

Mm. I get that.

It'll swallow you up.

It's big, you're small. Deal with it.

[grunt]

How you feeling?

Better.

Antibiotics are kicking in, I think.

You sure you don't want to know my side of the story?

How I got this thing?

Would you tell me the truth?

Mm, well, I could tell you, but then I'd have to k*ll you.

I hope that was a joke.

Oh, of course it was. Hey.

Like I said, just keep me in the dark.

Okay.

Bosch: We put tracking devices on both their vehicles.

May yield something.

And Nash? RHD have any idea?

He's off the radar, gone to ground somewhere.

What do they have you doing?

We're on hold, waiting for Firearms to finish processing the weapons from the scene.

Follow the g*ns, huh?

Yeah.

That's a sh*t job.

Yep.

They're mad at you.

Maybe. I think Connor suspects we were running a parallel investigation.

Maybe he blames us for spooking Nash, setting this whole thing in motion.

It has crossed my mind.

Yeah, mine, too.

We were so close to grabbing him up.

[sigh]

So what do you think happened?

Why did Nash spook?

I think somehow he knew we'd been there, to his house, saw those photographs.

So have we heard anything yet?

I didn't want to spoil a lovely evening.

Mm.

Delicious.

What?

Ahem.

Through her family in Yerevan, we, uh, reached an aunt in Toronto.

Do they know where the little bitch is?

She does not, but she heard from Layla a few months ago about the wedding.

[scoff] Wedding.

We were still married.

He didn't even have the balls to serve me with the divorce papers.

Wedding. f*ck a wedding.

Did they save the date?

Still in the planning stages.

Hmm.

To a nice Armenian gangster twice her age.

Lucky girl.

The aunt said traditional Armenian wedding.

Which would mean a church.

You know how many Armenian churches there are in L.A.?

Our Lady Queen of Martyrs.

Tony never went to church a f*cking day in his life.

Well, apparently, Layla was very attached to this particular church.

Went on and on to the aunt about how the priest made her feel like family, made her feel welcome, made her feel at home.

Hmm.

Detectives.

Agent Griffin?

The floor is yours.

Luke Rykoff gave you some information pertaining to your Allen case.

I assume it proved useful.

Jury's still out.

We're hoping the LAPD will return the favor.

Uh, how?

The death of Joey Marks provides us with an opportunity.

Now, we have a legitimate sh*t at reinserting Rykoff into the Marks organization.

Now, the three of you know that Rykoff is an FBI agent.

Anyone else?

I don't think so.

Okay. We need for you to keep it that way.

So there can be no records into his true status or identity, no conversation.

We need to maintain his legend.

Okay. Consider it done.

Thank you.

I'll let you get back to it.

Before you go... Martin Weiss.

What about him?

We ran a plate on a car parked at Veronica Allen's home last night.

It belonged to Weiss.

I'd like to know where he stands in the broader scheme of your investigation.

Up to his chin in sh*t.

But for your case, fair game.

Have a good day.

Veronica Allen and Weiss?

Think she's cutting him in on the money?

She may have no choice.

She's got to find it first.

Do the assistant chiefs know?

As of an hour ago.

We'll be holding a press conference today to announce his resignation.

We'd like you to be there.

I'd rather not.

It would look like I'm gloating.

Everyone knows our history.

I want to balance the negative with the positive.

Announce an interim chief at the same time.

What about Assistant Chief Lopez?

He's come up through the ranks, and it's time for a Hispanic chief of police.

Be an historic moment for L.A.

I'm a Latino mayor.

I can't appoint a Latino chief.

Who, then?

You.

Are you trying to co-op me, Mr. Mayor?

Won't work.

I'm still endorsing your opponent.

Endorse who you like.

Actually, that will make the mayor look good-- above the partisan fray.

[sigh]

Two conditions.

Name them.

RHD has a free hand in their investigation into my son's death and departmental corruption.

No interference from you or anyone else.

Let the chips fall where they may.

Full transparency. You have my word.

What's your other condition?

I will not be a candidate for the permanent position.

And you'll announce that today.

We expected you'd want to be considered, throw your hat in the ring.

Not interested.

You have an excellent chance with the Police Commission.

You're highly regarded at the moment.

I won't trade on the tragedy of my son's death.

Forgive me. That's not what I meant.

Of course not.

Agreed.

Veronica headed downtown?

Still stuck on the 101.

SIG Alert.

We've got a case that might involve bonds or certificates of some kind, something that can be moved without a lot of attention or a lot of questions, like bearer bonds.

We don't handle those here.

They're disappearing.

They long ago stopped earning interest, so it's about parking money, not earning.

Our clients want to earn.

Who does handle those?

I think I can put together a couple of names for you.

Bearer bonds have a certain reputation, you know.

Drug dealers. Money launderers. Tax evaders.

Exactly. That's not where we want to be.

We don't want those folks sitting in our waiting room, if you know what I mean. On the other hand, the last guy that brought bearer bonds in here was a priest, so--

Said somebody donated a quarter million in bonds to his church.

When was that?

Couple of weeks ago.

Where'd you send them?

Thurmond Bradley Investments on Wilshire.

They're not so picky about who's in their waiting room.

Did you catch a name?

Sorry.

I don't remember.

What about the church?

I don't think he ever said.

Your namesake, she relieved our Lord's suffering on his Via Dolorosa.

I'm afraid I was named for the Veronica in the comic books.

You look more like Betty to me.

[chuckling]

Oh, it is a beautiful church.

We've been here a long time.

The neighborhood's changed, but we've endured.

How long?

Celebrated our 60th anniversary last year.

The first Armenian Catholic church in California.

Mazel tov.

[laughing]

What do you think?

It's perfect.

We'll look at the calendar.

May and June book up first.

Mrs. Sarkisian.

[speaking Armenian]

Forgive me, Mrs. Allen, but why our church?

You don't look Armenian, and your name--

My late husband changed it for business reasons.

Avakian.

Ah.

It was his wish that our daughter have a traditional Armenian wedding.

Come to my office. We'll look at some dates.

Lovely. I noticed you're in the middle of a capital campaign.

Yes.

And I understand that it's customary to make a donation at the time of the wedding.

Customary, not required.

Perhaps in my husband's name.

That would be most generous of you, Mrs. Allen.

It would be my pleasure, Father.

Please.

Father Tabakian.

He gave him those bonds for hiding her or for helping her some other way.

So let's hit Thurmond Bradley first, then go lay it down for Father T.

Veronica off the 101 yet?

Boyle Heights. Pleasant Avenue.

Queen of Martyrs.

Perfect. Two birds, one stone.

Ah. There is still one Sunday in June.

I've changed my mind, Father.

You don't want to book the wedding?

And I'm actually not interested in making a donation, either.

I don't understand. May I ask why?

I'd like to talk about a donation that was already made.

I'm sorry.

Ten days ago, you cashed bearer bonds in the amount of $400,000.

You received those bonds from Liliet Saroyan, my husband's mistress.

Mistress? I'm sure you're mistaken.

Those bonds belong to me.

Mrs. Allen, I know Liliet Saroyan, and I can't believe that what you say is true.

She came to you to talk about a wedding, didn't she?

She did. She said that she and her fiancé--

Is this your Liliet?

Layla, yes. But who's this?

Her so-called fiancé: my husband.

They were lovers.

And the gift she gave you, the bonds, she stole those from me.

Now, you wouldn't want to be the recipient of such a tainted gift, would you, Father?

Born of an adulterous relationship.

I don't know what to say.

Where is Layla?

Where is she? And where is my money?

Layla is gone. She left the country.

To where?

I don't know.

I haven't heard from her.

Liar.

Please believe me.

And my bonds?

I'm sorry, but I cashed the bonds.

The donation she made to the church is in the bank.

Then you will write me a check for that amount.

I'm sorry. I can't just do that without proof that the bonds--

This is your proof!

Mrs. Allen, look, I'm sorry for your troubles, but that's not proof.

I want my money.

I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

Not without my f*cking money.

You know, I'm calling the police.

No, you are not.

Still here.

Maybe they're negotiating a settlement.

I could see how she can persuade him to give back the bonds and tell her where Layla is.

She's got game.

He's a priest.

He's a man, isn't he?

[panting]

What happened?

He att*cked me.

Where's Father Tabakian?

He's-- He's-- He's in his office.

I had to defend myself.

Jerry.

I got her.

I want to talk to my lawyer.

I bet you do.

6 William 21.

I'm code 6 at 1327 Pleasant Avenue.

Requesting two units and a supervisor, code 2.

Also an RA for a white male, 50 years, unconscious and not breathing.

[police radio chatter]

Take her to Hollywood.

Not Hollenbeck?

No, Hollywood. Our case. You roger that?

[ringing]

I thought I said to hold my calls.

I know, sir, but it's your wife.

Put her through.

I'm happy for you.

I know how much you've wanted this and for how long.

Coming under these circumstances... tastes more like ashes than victory.

I understand that.

I'm going to make right on our son, with the full force and authority of this department, whatever it takes.

If that brings you peace.

Not you?

I'm willing to give you as much time as you need.

Irv.

I've hired a lawyer.

Maybe you should, too.

I can see the feathers coming out of your mouths.

Lieutenant?

The cats who ate the canary.

Don't get cocky.

She sets a meet with the priest, walks out of that meeting, blood on her hands.

Hence the expression: caught red-handed.

Runs into us, we walk in, priest is adios.

Her prints are on the w*apon.

It's obvious she planted the scissors from the way they're placed.

To you, maybe.

And she's got $4 million worth of motive.

I have seen cases with far more convincing evidence go down the crapper. Do you remember OJ Simpson?

You can blame the jury for that one.

That's my point exactly.

Payback for Rodney King.

Precisely.

This case is going to be a goldmine for some slick attorney.

The interviews, book, TV deals.

We're not losing this one.

Take a breath, Lieutenant. We've got this.

Famous last words.

I am holding you to them, Bosch.

Hey.

Will I see you later?

I'll try.

I've got a lot of work I've got to catch up on, so--

Hey, you know what?

I'm thinking maybe it's better you keep your distance a few days, just till things quiet down.

Sounds smart.

When I'm stronger, we'll take a road trip cross country.

Otter Banks.

Why not?

Sure.

And if I hear helicopters and sirens?

Stay away from the news.

Where's my lawyer?

I've called him three times.

He doesn't answer my calls.

He doesn't return my messages.

I shouldn't even be in here.

It was self-defense.

Save your story, Mrs. Allen.

You're going to have a long time to work on the details.

So what happens next?

When do I get my bail hearing?

You're going to be transported to the female jail in Van Nuys.

You'll have access to a phone.

You can keep trying to reach your lawyer.

If you'd like me to call someone else to represent you, give me a name.

How about Martin Weiss? Will he do?

You're so f*cking smug, detective, so confident.

Can't wait to wipe that look off your face.

I'll take that as a no on Weiss.

I'll leave a message for Williams, let him know you're headed to Van Nuys.

Good night, Mrs. Allen.

What's going on?

Tenzer's out, Irving's in.

I'll be damned.

Mm-hmm.

Tough way to become chief.

He inherits a whole big steaming bowl of sh*t.

Bosch, line 1.

Bosch.

I've been trying to get hold of you.

Who is this?

I've been calling and calling.

Ma'am, your name.

Annette McKay.

Oh. Right. You're the woman that's been talking to Keisha Russell.

You won't return my calls.

I left you a message months ago.

I've been away for a while.

Do I know you?

Your voice sounds familiar.

Aunt Nettie. That's what you called me: Aunt Nettie. Do you remember me?

Harry?

Harry?

Aunt Nettie.

Could I call you back tomorrow?

It-- It's kind of late.

Come see me soon, Harry. I don't have long.

Why is that?

I'm dying.

Harry, I need to see you.

I'll come as soon as I can, I promise.

Don't wait too long.

I won't.

I know who k*lled your mother.