02x10 - Everybody Counts

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Bosch". Aired February 2014 - current.*
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An LAPD homicide detective works to solve the m*rder of a 13-year-old boy while standing trial in federal court for the m*rder of a serial k*ller.
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02x10 - Everybody Counts

Post by bunniefuu »

You're not working today, are you?

I thought you were gonna spend time with Maddie before we leave.

Oh, I just gotta go see someone about a case.

Shouldn't take long. I'll be back before she wakes up.

I got a call from a woman a few days ago.

Said she knew my mother, knows who k*lled her.

Think she does?

Probably just another dead end like all the others, and I'll put it away again till next time.

You've been looking at that book since I met you.

Yeah.

I'll be back in time to take you guys for lunch.

Maybe we can stop at the beach on the way to the airport.

Maddie'd like that.

[door opens, closes]

[sighs]

♪♪ [theme]

♪ 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 ♪

I moved back to L.A. a few years ago after my husband passed.

I was born here. I wanted to die here.

I had no idea you'd grown up to be a detective till I saw your name in the paper-- yours and Marjorie's.

That case had nothing to do with my mother.

It was just a lawyer dragging her name through the mud, trying to get to me.

You said you know who k*lled her.

Yes, I do.

[stammering] I think I do, at least.

We were good friends, your mother and I.

I babysat you many a day, many nights.

Tell me about the night she was k*lled.

[sighs]

We were careful.

We had our regulars, and we took referrals, I guess you'd say.

That night, I had more dates than I could handle, and I gave one of my regulars to Marjorie.

Who was he?

He called himself Mitch. It's the only name I never knew him by.

What did he look like?

Big, tall, surfer.

Broad shoulders.

He had that look-- tan, sun-streaked hair.

Did he ever hurt you?

He could be a little rough.

He liked to show you that he was in control.

Did he choke you?

He put his hands on my throat a few times.

Nothing more than that.

Did you warn her?

Did you tell her what he was like?

I did. I told her he liked it rough.

How could I know what he was gonna do that night?

Where did you send her to meet this Mitch?

City Center Hotel downtown.

Room 7.

I remember that, because Marjorie said it was her lucky number.

And you didn't go to the police after they found her?

We didn't go to the police.

We didn't talk to the police. We couldn't trust them.

So you did nothing.

When they found Marjorie, I was so scared, I left town.

At Union Station, I made an anonymous call to the police.

I talked to a detective. I told him about Mitch.

Then I got on a train, and I left.

I left the town, I left the life.

What about the detective? Do you remember his name?

[stammering] No, I don't.

I got it from the newspaper.

It said he was the one in charge.

Was it Caffrey? John Caffrey?

I don't know.

I'm sorry, I don't remember.

And you thought that would do it?

An anonymous call on your way out of town?

That's all she was worth?

Your close friend.

Look, I thought you would want to know this.

I'm dying. It was now or never.

[sighs]

But you had to wait until you were dying to tell me.

Harry...

Thank you for telling me at last.

Turned off.

[groans]

Want some of this?

No, thanks.

Forget it, Mom. I've already tried to convert him.

Come on, it's really good.

They start making rocky road gelato, I'll give up ice cream.

How'd your interview go this morning?

Something to follow up on. We'll see.

Not getting my hopes up.

Can you push me on the swing? My dad's busy.

Is it okay?

Sure.

I'm Maddie.

I'm Cora.

Look at you.

Even out here, you feel like you need to protect her.

She's my little girl.

She's not so little anymore.

She'll always be my baby. I worry about her.

And you.

I'm gonna be okay.

I was worried about you before all this happened.

I know you are.

Harry, my world is upside down right now.

I don't know about work, my marriage, anything in my future.

Reggie and I, we've... moved into that space.

Now what?

Couples take each other for granted.

Don't really talk anymore.

You know, where we were right before it was over.

Well, that was my fault. I blew it.

We both did.

I just don't wanna make the same mistakes I did before.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to sound like that.

It's okay. I get it.

Hey, guys. Group hug?

Maddie sandwich.

I'm really gonna miss you, Dad.

Miss you, too.

Need a room?

LAPD.

I'm working a cold-case homicide from '79.

How far back do your registration records go?

We got records that go back to the day this place opened back in '53.

So a cold-case homicide, huh?

We didn't have any murders here in '79.

I'd remember. I was here.

Had a couple in '80, but nothing in '79.

Her body wasn't found here. She might have been here the night she was k*lled.

You said you remember those murders in '80?

Oh, you always remember the murders.

Both women.

One got stabbed. The other got her head bashed in.

Blunt force trauma, I think you call it.

They ever get solved?

Nothing ever gets solved here.

The registries are in the back in the cabinets, and they ain't in order, and there are a few pages missing here and there.

Ah, knock yourself out. I've got to get back up to the counter.

Gotta make sure my preverts have a place to comingle for the night.

Yeah, no problem.

Okay.

Mitch.

You find what you're looking for?

Mind if I borrow this?

If you promise to bring it back.

You said you remember the murders.

Do you remember a customer named Fox Mitchell?

No, I don't remember him.

Is there anyone in Room 7 tonight?

Seven? No, seven is open.

I need to see it.

Not like it was back then.

I know.

I am glad you found time to meet me.

I know you're incredibly busy.

What can I do for you?

I need to know where we stand, Irv.

You made a promise, a commitment to my candidacy.

But you have to know there will be consequences should anything change.

Are you talking about your grand jury?

We're ready to issue its findings.

So issue them.

The fallout will be intense for LAPD and you personally.

Let me make something clear to you, Mr. District Attorney.

I agreed to accept the position of interim chief of police to honor my son and help lead the department out of this current crisis.

But I will not be accepting the job permanently, no matter who wins the election.

You're just gonna walk away?

That's what interim means.

And the Waits video?

They have it.

Who has it?

Them.

You didn't.

Yes, I did.

I think your grand jury should have all the facts if they want to sit in judgment.

They should know who ordered Raynard Waits' cuffs removed.

They should know who ordered that field trip.

They should know who was really responsible.

You son of a bitch, f*ck you.

Bosch.

So I happened to be doing my appointed rounds in the bullpen earlier.

I couldn't help but notice a delivery on your desk from archives.

Two open cases from 1980?

Good. That was quick.

What was quick? What are you doing?

I ordered two unsolveds from archives.

Your mother's case, that was 1979, right?

It was.

I'm looking into the possibility these other two cases were connected.

Unless I missed a memo, you and Edgar were assigned to the Nash task force.

Where are you going with this?

For now, we're just pushing paper, for RHD, tracing g*ns, waiting for Nash to raise his head.

What about Veronica Allen?

She gets arraigned tomorrow.

Edgar's putting together the first discovery package.

It's all well in hand.

So meantime, over the weekend, I got a call on my mother's case.

I spoke to a witness, gave me a new lead.

You got a call?

I got a call.

Harry, these cases are 35 years old.

It doesn't matter. Forget our victims? What's that say about us?

I know, I know, but we have a dedicated cold case unit downtown.

Maybe, but they're not working these cases.

And you know how it goes down there.

They pull a case, look for DNA and fingerprints to run.

If there's no magic b*llet, the case goes right back to archives.

So there was no DNA or fingerprint evidence in these cases.

None.

All right. So what's the connection?

Why'd you pull them?

The connection is the City Center Hotel.

A friend of my mother's contacted me, told me my mother went there the night she was m*rder*d.

This is new information.

Okay.

I looked at the m*rder journals downtown in RHD, and there were entries on two other cases associated with that place.

A woman was m*rder*d there seven months after my mother's death.

Another one was found wrapped in a bedspread in an alley off Selma six month after that.

The bedspread came from the City Center Hotel.

And the cause of death was the same in all three?

The guy was smart.

Different M.O.s, different races on the victims.

The only connection is the hotel and that they were prostitutes.

Harry, this is the longest of longshots.

Exactly why I pulled the files-- to dig in and see.

Maybe we should loosen his shackles.

Bosch, just do it.

How the f*ck did the Times get this?

Forget it, pal. Come on.

Barrel, when are you getting that knee looked after?

September.

Till then, he's got the gag walk.

What do you think it means?

Above my pay grade. Can't say I'm sorry that it got out.

I think O'Shea's run for mayor just took a tumble.

Yeah, huh?

Okay, I'm almost done for the day.

I'll be there in about an hour.

Tell your brother to have his shoes on and to be ready.

Okay, so we collected a total of six weapons at the bank plaza and 68 shell casings.

Two groups-- the Nash crew and the Marks crew.

What I'm focused on as a priority is the Nash crew.

Four weapons collected here, here, here, and here-- this being where the submachine g*n was recovered.

And what do you have so far?

Four different weapons, one thing in common-- obliterated serial numbers, most likely with a metal sander, which still gives us a halfway decent sh*t to restore the numbers with acid, but it takes time.

We don't have time, Lester.

You can't force science.

The acids we use to restore serial numbers take a few days minimum to do their magic.

But call me tomorrow. Maybe I'll have something.

Anything on the a*mo I should know?

Well, we could pretty much match each w*apon to the casings by caliber and location.

Everyone on Nash's crew was sh**ting reloads.

All four weapons?

Correct.

Nash is a firearms dealer.

Makes sense he might recycle his brass.

Did you find a reloader at his house?

No, we did not.

♪♪ [jazz on stereo]

[engine stops]

Are you sure that coin you flipped came up heads?

[knocking on door]

Caffrey: Come in!

It's you again.

Yeah, it's me.

Curry brand, my favorite.

Fox Mitchell.

Mr. Right To The Point, huh? What was the name?

You heard me-- Fox Mitchell.

Um, his name in the m*rder book?

No.

Well, then there's your answer.

If it's not in the book, it's not part of the case.

Except you got an anonymous call about him from a woman after they found my mother m*rder*d.

She gave you the hotel name, room number where she was k*lled.

Does that ring a bell now, Detective Caffrey?

Can't say it does.

And how do you know I got the call?

Could have been my partner, could have been anybody.

She said she called the detective named in the newspaper.

You were the point man in the media, your name in every story.

The City Center Hotel, Room 7.

That's where she was k*lled before he dumped her body.

You knew. You were told.

Don't tell me what I f*ckin' knew or what I was told.

If it's not in the book, it's not in the case.

End of story.

I'm gonna go out and smoke one of these cupcakes, and you're gonna get the f*ck out of here.

All these years, I've been coming to you, asking about her case, listening to your bullshit.

But I know now, Caffrey.

I know you took a dive.

Don't you bring that sh*t in here.

Don't you f*cking dare.

I cleared 36 m*rder cases in my time, you little sh*t, so don't you come in here playing junior detective on my time.

Who was Fox Mitchell?

I'm telling you to get--

No, I'm telling you.

She went to him.

That night, she went to him, and you knew.

You were told.

Who was Fox Mitchell? Who was he?

Fox Mitchell was an alias, okay?

He was a snitch.

A snitch for who?

Major Narcotics.

And you were told to lay off him.

I got the message. Yeah, loud and clear.

He was a prized and productive informant.

Big arrests, big seizures, cocaine.

They wanted to keep him in place.

You didn't even talk to him off book?

I did the right thing. I asked narcotics to make him available for questioning.

That request was denied.

So you just laid down on it.

I had no choice.

f*ck that, no choice.

And what about his real name? Did you ever get it?

The assholes wouldn't give it to me.

And what about Josephine Ford and Cindy Black?

Who the f*ck are they?

m*rder victims like my mother.

Never heard of them.

Of course not.

You were too busy looking the other way.

Bosch, don't be so f*cking judgmental.

You know the department, you know how it works.

You get told to steer clear of something, you steer clear, or you get f*cking rolled.

And how was I supposed to know for sure that this guy was even the k*ller?

She got k*lled.

And who gets her case?

You.

My mother got you.

She never had a chance.

[door opens, slams]

[clattering]
[crowd clamoring]

Defendant Allen, up.

Attorney conference, now.

He went berserk, yelling and screaming.

He picked up a pair of scissors.

So I-- I... grabbed the closest thing I could put my hands on to defend myself.

And then he lunged at me, and I--

I hit him.

With the trophy?

Yes.

And how many times did you hit him?

Once or twice I don't-- I don't really remember.

I was terrified. I thought he was gonna k*ll me.

You feared for your life.

I did.

So is that enough?

I can work with this.

We'll dig deep into Father Tabakian, find out all about him, all his secrets.

Right now, he's the victim.

By the time we get to trial, you will be.

Yeah.

Detective Bosch.

Ms. Chandler.

Didn't I say our paths would cross again?

Yes, you did.

'Cause according to you, I'm the kind of guy who can't stop stepping on his own d*ck.

And once again, you've proven me right.

You're defending Veronica Allen?

She called, I accepted.

Thought it was time to blow the dust off my criminal court skills.

High-profile case like this, maximum media, perfect.

Win or lose, can't bill the city for this one.

From what I hear, the lady's near broke.

I'm not too worried about it.

I think she can scrape something together.

Anyway, it's not about the money.

It's the challenge.

And honestly, when I heard your name, catnip.

You two are made for each other.

I couldn't agree with you more.

How does the defendant plead?

Not guilty, Your Honor. Not guilty.

We're talking about ignoring exculpatory evidence.

The detective in this case has a history of misconduct.

I proved that several months ago in the civil court, and I fully expect to prove it again.

And so it begins.

It never ended.

[knocking on door]

Man: Yeah.

What can I do for you?

Thanks for the time.

I work Hollywood homicide--

I know who you are.

Here.

So I'm working a case, cold case, a string of murders, late '70s, early '80s.

A name keeps coming up as a possible witness.

It turns out the name's an alias for a C.I. who was working for Majors.

This guy was on keep-away status back then.

We're looking at nearly 40 years gone by, so I'm thinking the C.I.'s probably not making cases anymore.

And you want the name?

It's gotta be in one of these snitch boxes, right?

It doesn't matter how many years ago it was.

You need command staff approval to access the C.I. files.

You have that?

What I got is a woman who was strangled and left in a Dumpster, another one stabbed, and a third one beaten to death, and nobody gave a sh*t about it back then, because the one guy who might know something about it was making cases for Major Narcotics.

When I was a boot, my T.O. wrote me up three times for bullshit.

He was one of those guys took great joy in bending people over.

I've known a few of those.

Complete assh*le.

Which, of course, meant he rose through the ranks, wormed his way up to captain.

Then I heard last year, a detective in Hollywood division threw his ass through a plate glass window, right in the f*ckin' watch office.

That really made my day.

We have a major operation going tonight.

I got here early to plan it out.

It's gonna be a long one, and I need to start stacking caffeine.

You want something from the break room?

I'll probably brew a fresh pot. It'll take a while.

Uh, thanks. I take it black.

Okay. Back in a bit.

God damn you.

Hey, partner. Where you been?

Downtown. What's up?

I think I've got something here that we should take a look at.

Run it.

Firearms pulled numbers on the weapons Nash and his crew were using at the bank.

Only partials on two of them, but full serials on the other two--

Nash's SIG MPX and O'Grady's Beretta.

You run them through A*F?

And here's the thing.

Both weapons were originally bought by Nash under his federal firearms license.

Bought legit.

Completely legit.

And they were sold completely legit to a second party-- a hunting preserve and g*n range up in Canyon Country.

Okay.

According to A*F, but weapons were reportedly stolen last year during a burglary up at the hunting preserve.

They were among several g*ns reported stolen.

So they were stolen, but then they end up back in the possession of the original dealer and somebody on his crew?

Sounds like a big coincidence, doesn't it?

What's that word you like? Cahoots? That's what this is.

Exactly. I mean, Nash sells g*ns to this place, then he steals them back, takes off the serial number and gives them to his crew.

I mean, the original buyer, he's probably collecting insurance on the whole deal.

That's like laundering weapons.

And something else.

All of the a*mo that was used out there at the bank from these weapons? Reloads.

I mean, every g*n range I've been to has a reloader or sells recycled a*mo.

So we better go up there and talk to this guy, maybe get a line on Nash.

I mean, that would be the plan.

Except for this.

Donald Boehner?

d*ed eight months ago, natural causes.

I called up there at the g*n camp.

A recording came on, said they're no longer open for business.

We check it out anyway.

Yeah.

Chain's been cut.

Probable cause.

Works for me.

[engine starts]

Pull it over here.

We'll go the rest on foot.

I'm gonna grab the tube.

Back up?

Let's wait and see what we got.

[g*nf*re]

Bosch!

I'm good!

[panting]

[g*nshots]

[grunts]

[whimpering]

[panting]

I ain't coming out here vertical!

You know that, don't you, Bosch?

That's up to you, Nash! Doesn't have to be that way!

What's the f*ckin' point?

Trial? Prison? f*ck that!

You'd rather die here?

Oh, you wanna make a deal, Harry?

I can give you Veronica!

Yeah! Pictures!

Tapes! I got it all right in here!

I'll tie it up in a nice little bow for you!

Or I can light it on fire while we're waiting for SWAT!

There's always a deal to be made, Nash! Put your weapons down!

That's where we start!

Bullshit!

It starts when you get a D.A. out here and put it in writing!

SWAT comes, you go out of here in a f*ckin' bag!

I put my g*n down! You put your g*n down!

Bullshit! You know how this works!

Bosch!

[panting] sh*t.

This guy's gone.

Cuff him anyway.

Where are you going?

Evidence on Veronica.

No, no, no, Harry, come on.

Forget it. She's not worth it. Come on.

[amm*nit*on popping]

[phone vibrates]

So I just got off the phone with RHD.

You are technically still on their books, but they can handle the mop up on the case from here.

So after your appointments with Behavioral, I am prescribing some downtime for you both.

Stay home a few days.

Thanks, Lieutenant.

But next Monday, you're back in rotation.

Got that, Harry?

Yeah, got it.

Harry, you on vacation already?

You zoned out there.

Just thinking about the one loose end in this whole thing.

Layla?

Yeah.

I wonder where she is with all that money.

♪♪ [Spanish guitar]

Grazie.

Bosch.

Sorry, Chief. I don't want to intrude.

I just wanted to watch this.

The unveiling won't be till next Sunday.

I can come back.

That's not necessary.

I've done worse.

Excuse me?

That's what you said to me first day in your hotel room.

"I've done worse."

What are we talking about, Bosch?

Arno Epperson.

Who?

Arno Epperson, also known as Fox Mitchell.

Those are names I haven't heard in a long time.

I found your photo in his snitch file.

We won't go into how you came to have that file.

What about him?

I want to know where he is.

I wouldn't know.

But you know who he is.

I worked with him on some major cases when I was in Narcotics.

21 tons of coke in a warehouse in '92.

That had to have given you a step or two up the department ladder.

We used a lot of informants.

That's how you make cases in that world.

What are you looking at him for?

The m*rder of Marjorie Lowe, my mother.

Jesus.

You tied Epperson to your mother's m*rder?

No, he did it. And this department, the D.A.'s office protected him afterward.

Put him in the relocation program.

There may have been other victims as well, besides my mother.

[sighs]

Informants have always necessitated looking away at times-- the greater good rationalizations.

But if he did something like that, I was certainly unaware of it.

Somebody was, but he was too important to their investigation to take a fall for a few m*rder*d prostitutes.

He got a free pass.

Hard to believe.

You know, a week ago, you told me the m*rder*r of a cop.

Your son was about to be swept under the rug.

You didn't find that hard to believe.

I don't have access to relocation files, but you do.

You're the Chief of Police.

I'll see what I can find out.

I'll call you.

When?

Soon.

What's up, man?

Looking for Big Wave Dave.

He around?

Dave?

Uh, no, he's not here anymore.

Really? He said he'd be here.

Impossible.

How's that?

He's been dead a while now.

Yeah, he got cancer.

When?

About two years ago.

Felt funny. Went in for a checkup.

Five weeks later, he was dead.

Took him fast.

Were you a friend of his?

No.

You go to the funeral?

Yeah, I went. Why?

This him?

Yeah, Dave Aronson.

You won, didn't you?

Got away with it.

[spitting]

♪ Wish I were with you ♪
♪ But I couldn't stay ♪

[no audible dialog]

♪♪ [piano]

♪ Every direction leads me away ♪
♪ Pray for tomorrow ♪
♪ But for today ♪

[no audible dialog]

♪ All ♪
♪ I want ♪
♪ Is to be home ♪
♪ Stand in the mirror ♪
♪ You look the same ♪
♪ Just lookin' for shelter ♪
♪ From the cold and the pain ♪
♪ Someone to cover ♪
♪ Safe from the rain ♪
♪ And all ♪
♪ I want ♪
♪ Is to be home ♪
♪ Echoes and silence ♪
♪ Patience and grace ♪
♪ All of these moments ♪
♪ I'll never replace ♪
♪ Fear of my heart ♪
♪ Absence of faith ♪
♪ And all ♪
♪ I want ♪
♪ Is to be home ♪
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