01x01 - Pilot

[bunniefuu]

Gonna rain like a bastard tonight.

You're crazy.

Need it. Wash all the sh*t away.

A sprinkle at most.

What?

You think the game's gonna get rained out?

Won't go nine, that's for sure.

What are you all of a sudden, an amateur meteorologist?

It's about time.

Cat's shaking and baking, man.

I think he might have made me.

He's headed for the metro.

If I hustle, I can get up on him.

Should I sit on his car in case he circles back?

What if he doesn't? We got to take him tonight.

Backup?

See how it plays out.

Right behind you.

What's wrong with you, man?

Mariachi plaza.

<i>Carnal.

No te mes escondes.

Salga.

Despacio. Despacio.</i>

Lapd. <i>policia.</i>

Let me see your hands.

Show me your hands, <i>hombre.

Manos.

Muestrame tus manos.

Rodilla.

Arrodilla te, ahora.</i>

Freeze!

Here you are, sir.

Deputy chief Irving.

Bosch.

Chief.

In god's name, Bosch. Another one?

What the f*ck happened?

All rise.

The united states district court for the central district of California, the honorable judge Alvin M. Keyes presiding, is now in session.

All persons with business before the court, please draw near, and you shall be heard.

Be seated.

Good morning.

Ms. Chandler, Mr. Belk.

In the matter of Rosa Flores versus the city of Los Angeles and Hieronymus Bosch, are we ready to continue voir dire?

Yes, your honor, the plaintiffs are ready to proceed.

Defense is ready, your honor.

Very well, then.

Let me remind everyone, the holidays are fast upon us.

I anticipate a jury empanelled by the end of the day... before we recess for the weekend.

And it is my fervent hope to conclude this entire proceeding before Christmas and not drag it willy-nilly into the new year.

The clerk will call the next group of prospective jurors.

Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats in the jurors' box.

If you would please remember your number and keep your place so that the attorneys know who's who.

Jury selection continued today in federal court in downtown Los Angeles in the wrongful death civil suit against veteran homicide detective Harry Bosch.

f*ck me.

Though cleared of wrongdoing, the family contends that Flores was unarmed the night that Bosch sh*t and k*lled him.

Scared him off, sunny.

I know him.

You know that guy?

Mm-hmm.

Tom Farraday.

Former client? After he paid your bill?

It's a long story. Ask your lawyer. Ask Bulk.

Bulk?

Everybody calls Rodney "Bulk", for obvious reasons.

Everybody calls you "Money" for obvious reasons.

I know how to win.

Belk doesn't?

Never had to learn.

The only thing Rodney needs to know is how to settle.

Speaking of which, why didn't the city settle this case?

Couple of a hundred grand. They do it every week.

I told them I'd get my own lawyer if they tried to settle.

Raise a sh*t storm in the media. Embarrass the department.

Big mistake, Bosch.

Maybe. We'll see.

You're f*cked, my friend.

Any punitive damages could come out of your pocket, not the city's.

You know that, right?

I predict a nice round number.

A cool million.

You got that kind of money stashed in a coffee can, Detective?

You're not just brutal; you're crooked too?

Your client's husband was a r*pist and a m*rder*r.

Not proved.

She knew. She had to.

I'd like to see you prove that too.

I'd like to see you prove anything, other than the one incontrovertible fact of this case: You k*lled Roberto Flores.

And I'd do it again.

I know you would, Bosch.

I know you would.

And that's why we're here: To stop you from doing it again to someone else.

I'm on.

Stick around.

You might learn something.

'Tis the season.

Put this on your radar...

Well, there's a minor problem.

We'll keep our fingers crossed.

Press has been calling all day.

I'll be in touch as soon as I hear.

f*ck them.

Chandler subpoenaed me.

We knew she would.

She never deposed me.

Worries me.

I think she's laying for me, Harry.

Some kind of trap.

Just tell the truth, J. Edgar.

Oh, man.

Crate and barrel, just the guys I'm looking for.

Bosch, what are you doing here?

I thought you were on trial.

Recessed for the weekend.

I'm playing Santa Claus, barrel. Crate.

Lakers-Celtics. You shittin' me?

Saturday night.

We're up this weekend.

I'll take your rotation.

What's the catch?

No catch. I've been in court all week.

Bored out of my mind.

Jury selection? Jesus.

The whole weekend?

Every sh*t call that comes in? Even the decomps?

Every decomp.

Every holiday o. d., every eggnog-induced cardiac arrest.

And Edgar's cool with that?

Let me worry about J. Edgar.

You want them or not?

Hell yeah.

Ho, ho, ho.

Harry, why'd you switch with crate and barrel and not check with me first?

I got plans, man.

I'm taking my kid to <i>Lion King</i> tomorrow.

Relax. I got this.

Probably be a dry weekend. Couple naturals, maybe a decomp.

I know how much you hate a decomp.

It's the dry cleaning. Stink gets in my suits.

You need to get a life, man.

Most guys would love a stint on the DL.

Yeah, well, I'm no good with downtime.

Yeah, well, what if you catch a legit 187?

What then?

I'll handle it till you're done.

Harry Bosch. Edgar.

Lieutenant.

That b*llet's gonna kick your ass.

I thought you quit.

I thought I did too.

So what are you doing here, Bosch?

Recessed for the weekend.

Just came by to check my messages, you know.

No, I don't know.

You're off rotation and on the inactive list until there's a verdict, so go home.

Now.

How'd jury selection go?

Four women, two men.

Two blacks, two whites, one asian, one latino.

Not a west side bleeding-heart liberal cop-lover among them.

Who knows? It's a crapshoot.

So it goes.

Real fun starts on Monday.

Nobody else was there, Harry.

Nobody knows what you know.

Whole world likes to second-guess a decision you had to make in 3/10 of a second.

Good weekend.

You too.

<i>Arrodilla te, ahora.</i>

Freeze!

Car's registered to a Linda Foster.

Studio city. Assuming it's hers.

No purse, no ID.?

Didn't search it yet.

Waiting for you.

I mean, if it's a robbery...

Yeah, thanks for not f*cking up my scene, officer.

Coroners?

Be here within an hour.

f*ck it. I'm gonna move the body.

Wait, but...

Don't worry.

I'll put it back.

su1c1de.

Whoa.

Beautiful girl like that...

I mean, why?

A day like this, who wouldn't want to live?

No matter what.

Bosch.

Hey, Harry, how's it going up there?

About to clear.

Yeah, well, that time of year, right?

Yeah. What's up?

Listen, I got a citizen up in the hills, his dog went for a romp in the woods.

He came back with a bone.

Come on, Mank. Not a bone run.

Before you start jumping all over my ass, could you just hear me out?

I'm not jumping on anybody's ass.

Well, isn't that good to know?

The guy says it's human, Harry.

Yeah, well, it always is...

Until it isn't.

You're right, 99 times out of 100.

Coyote, deer, cow, whatever.

But this guy, he's a doctor, Harry.

Yeah, chiropractor?

He's an md, smart-ass, and he says that it's a... Humerus, upper arm bone.

So anyway, I was wondering, you think you could humor us and go check out this humerus?

Oh, come on, Harry. That was f*cking funny.

Hilarious, Mank.

Just give me the address.

Yeah, I see what you're talking about.

Edge.

Bosch.

This is dr. Guyot. He found the bone.

To be accurate, my dog found it.

I called it in.

I was showing the officer here...

The highlighted area is the growth plate line.

If we compare it to the recovered specimen, this is a child's bone, Detective.

No doubt about it.

Child's bone?

Yes.

How long have you been retired, doctor?

Doesn't mean I don't know a human bone when I see one.

I'm not questioning your expertise.

You say it's a human bone, I believe you, okay?

I'm just trying to get the lay of the land here.

Did you happen to see where she found it?

I didn't.

Way up the hill somewhere in the woods.

Beautiful dog. Golden retriever, right?

What's her name?

Calamity.

You guys can clear. I can take it from here.

Keep it off the air.

Roger that.

So what can you tell me about it?

See the striation?

Mm-hmm.

That's a break line, Detective.

A healed fracture. Broken and mended.

A spiral fracture, usually from severe twisting of the limb.

Rotation break.

Yes. Rotation break.

Rarely accidental.

I know.

You going up to take a look?

Give it a try.

Maybe an hour or so of daylight left.

Julia brasher. I'm new in the division.

Harry Bosch.

Yeah, I know. I've heard of you.

I deny everything.

Look, sorry about butting in with the doctor in there.

I know you were trying to establish rapport, and my timing's a bit off today.

Don't worry about it.

Listen, I don't know how long I'm gonna be up there, and...

Forgot my light.

Oh, yeah. No problem. Use mine.

Thanks.

I can go up with you.

Got a hot sh*t, partner. Double "d."

All right.

I hate domestic disputes, don't you?

Yes, I do. Especially my own.

Anyway, sorry about that.

Maybe next time.

It's okay. I got another one in the car.

You can just get it back to me whenever.

Good luck.

You too. Be careful.

Attractive woman.

For a cop.

For anyone.

Okay, doc.

Look, I can't climb that hill and hold the dog.

So just unleash her, and I'll do my best to keep up.

Fat chance.

Go get the bone, girl. Go.

f*ck.

f*ck, f*ck.

f*ck.

Son of a bitch.

Sorry.

Wish I could write you something for the pain, but since I retired...

Oh, don't worry about it, doc.

I can deal with it.

You said there's a crime scene up there.

I found more bones.

Thought I was looking at twigs at first.

Then I realized I was looking at a hand.

A child's hand.

A child's hand.

Bosch. As I live and breathe.

Hard day?

Teresa.

You should have called.

Would you have answered?

I'm on my way out.

The mayor's holiday party.

You see, some of us have to make nice from time to time with other human beings.

Five minutes. It's important.

Is that the same city sh*t box that always left oil spots on my beautiful driveway?

No.

I traded in that sh*t box for a new one.

It's the humerus, the upper arm.

A juvenile.

That's what the doctor said.

Good for him. He knows his stuff.

You okay?

I'm fine.

I'll leave golliher a message.

I'll have him meet the S.O.R.T. Team out at the site as soon as it's light.

Great.

And I'll be there myself.

Is there a problem?

We don't even know if it's a crime scene yet.

Don't you have anything better to do on a sunday?

Tomorrow?

No.

Okay, look, I'd like to keep this thing low-profile.

I don't want it on the 6:00 news.

Meaning?

Meaning I haven't seen you at a scene without a video crew since I don't remember when.

Low profile, I get it.

Now, you need to call the reporting desk and get that to the coroner's office tonight.

How long you think it's been in the ground?

Dr. Golliher will have to make that determination.

Could you just call him?

I could run it by his house right now.

You have your confirmation.

The bone is human.

Further examination and analysis will take place under the proper conditions at the office.

I will see you tomorrow at the scene.

Good-bye, Bosch.

I really wish you'd forget where I live.

Why aren't you answering your cell?

d*ed an hour ago.

Mine hasn't.

I come out of the movies, I got messages from everybody from the watch commander to the coroner's office telling me about some bone case you're working up in the hills.

I was gonna call you.

Just wanted to check missing persons first.

Unauthorized possession of departmental property.

I could bust you on this alone, Bosch.

Yeah, I guess you could.

What I really want to know is, who gave you permission to take Johnson and moore's rotation?

They had lakers tickets. I just offered to...

You gave them the lakers tickets.

Yeah, I guess I did.

You're in court on Monday morning.

Harry, do you have any idea how f*cked-up this is?

I do. But I can handle it.

You need to focus on your court case, detective.

Your future is on the line.

Anybody can sue anybody in this world.

The department cleared me.

Do you think that if a jury decides that you k*lled an unarmed man that it ends there just because it's "civil"?

He wasn't unarmed.

Well, if Chandler convinces them that he was, do you think for one second that Irving won't take you off of the homicide table?

First of all, lieutenant, we don't even know what we have up there.

Could be decades old.

Exactly, which is why on Monday, This goes to cold case.

No.

It stays with me.

I caught it. I keep it.

It's a hobby case, lieutenant.

We excavate the site tomorrow, and then we evaluate.

I could be finished with this court bullshit before we even get forensics back.

God damn it!

I need the work, lieutenant.

This is the work I do. You know this.

I know that if the captain sees your name on the reports, he will be sh1tting blood.

Tell the captain you got Edgar working it while I'm in court.

I'll put his name on everything.

Harry, Harry, Harry.

Look, just... Take a look at this.

This is what we're looking for in terms of color.

Spread an arm's distance apart in one line and move slowly across each quadrant.

Slowly, got it? Take your time.

This ain't a contest. We got all day.

All right, come on, let's go.

See your girlfriend's got her cameraman with her.

Shut the f*ck up. She's not my girlfriend.

I thought you had an arrangement.

She traded up.

You can film her, not me.

Don't touch the lens.

How about I toss you and your whole f*cking rig down the hill?

Sorry.

She said I could sh**t whatever I wanted.

She did, huh?

Teresa.

Bosch.

Glad to see you wore your sensible shoes.

I'm not part of your video record.

Got it?

Fine. Anything else?

You said you'd keep this low-key.

That's what I said.

Then why are you dolled up like the channel 9 weather girl?

Hey, heard you need volunteers.

We could use you.

Check in with my partner over there.

Roger that.

You found more bones?

Definitely a grave site.

So it's a homicide.

I can't think of a legit reason to bury a body up here, especially a kid.

Right femur.

"City of bones."

The grid we laid down is like the blocks of a city so we know exactly what was found where.

"In every m*rder is the tale of a city."

Who said that?

I don't know.

Somebody.

You think it's true?

Yeah, I do.

Detective Bosch.

1989.

Found it near the left wing of the pelvis.

Probably in our victim's pocket.

Pretty good marker. Puts us inside 25 years.

Two other things I want to emphasize, detective: Grave depth and location terrain.

Go ahead, doc.

Well, we have a contradiction here.

This is a shallow grave.

Whoever buried this body basically covered it over with loose dirt and dry leaves, which suggests panic, poor planning.

On the other hand, the remote location, the difficult terrain...

See what I'm saying?

Premeditation.

Yeah.

Decomp fluids have destroyed the clothing, but the canvas backpack is largely intact.

So maybe burying it with the body was a mistake.

Maybe.

The waistband is from a pair of boy's underwear.

Pelvis assembly also indicates we may have a male here.

Judging from the skeletal remains, a child of about nine or ten.

Give me the trowel.

Brush.

Missing lower mandible.

No teeth on the upper.

Hmm, a dental I.D. Would be too easy.

Don't despair, detective.

Cranium shows clear evidence of fracture lines and surgical healing.

Hospital records.

Another indicator we're dealing with relatively contemporary bones.

Stellate fracture on the occipital...

Blunt force trauma?

That's the most likely explanation.

First thing in the morning.

I'd do the doctor first.

I'll text you if anything comes up.

You know where to find me.

Up the slope, 20 off your six.

Flush him toward you.

All right, sounds like a plan.

Nature calls.

Meet you guys at the bottom of the hill.

Oh, wait. Wait.

f*ck a duck.

You know this guy?

Reporter. Saw him in court friday.

Look...

Hey!

Nate tyler. I work for the <i>times.</i>

Who told you about this?

How'd you know?

Nobody told me anything.

Bullshit.

I don't talk about my sources.

Good for you. We should arrest your ass.

For what?

For being an all-around douche.

What's that? That's a felony, isn't it?

Where I come from.

I'm reporting on a criminal investigation...

No, you're messing with a crime scene, assh*le.

You're covering the trial.

Now you're up here poking around?

You're covering me.

You're doing a hit piece.

You're doing a f*cking hit piece on me.

An unbiased feature story on a cop who, well, fair to say, has a bit of a checkered past.

You can't write about this up here, not now.

He's right.

You'll f*ck it up.

You give us a chance to find out what it is first.

You want to write about me?

Go ahead, m*therf*cker.

Take your best sh*t.

But if this is a viable case, give us time to work it, all right?

Okay.

Okay.

But when it breaks, I want it first.

Half a day's jump on everybody else.

All right, when something breaks.

Look forward to hearing from you, gentlemen.

Whoa, whoa, where the f*ck do you think you're going?

Down the hill.

No, that path is for authorized personnel only.

Back the way you came.

Well, no, I...

I thought you just made a deal with him.

f*ck that guy.

We only make deals with people we trust.

So we out of here?

We're out of here.

I got beaucoup sh*t to do.

All right. Good work today, boot.

Hey, thanks.

That was quite a day.

Could use a drink.

You like musso and frank's?

So, brasher, you said you were new in the division.

Three months.

Where were you before?

The academy.

I know. I'm old.

Oh, I didn't say that.

Just wondered why Edgar called you "Boot."

You don't seem like a rookie.

I just got the cop bug late. You know?

Took me a little while to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.

So this is it? Dream come true?

For now.

Right, who could resist all this?

So glamorous, police work.

You do your job. You almost get yourself k*lled.

They drag you into court, try to make you look like ted bundy when the other guy really is ted bundy.

Worried about the trial?

I'm not worried about what I did.

I know what I did was right.

Just worried what the jury will think I did.

Anyway, f*ck it.

You know, I still think it's one of the last noble callings.

What, police work?

Homicide, what you do.

Homicide's dull.

It's after the fact.

sh**ting's over. Smoke clears.

We show up.

Doesn't sound dull to me.

Come on, all the street adrenaline you guys get every day?

High-speed freeway chases?

True.

Writing traffic tickets? Rousting tr*nny hookers?

Telling tourists how to find Grauman's chinese?

Washing the puke out of the back of your shamu at the end of a shift?

How can homicide compete with that?

No one told me you were funny.

I don't get enough credit.

To the Harry Bosch that nobody knows.

No, but seriously, what you do, that's what I want to do.

Catch K*llers?

You take some genuinely evil people off the board.

Sometimes. When we get lucky.

I think there's more to it than luck.

And it counts, you know, what you do.

It counts.

Ah, I hate Mondays, man.

You and me both, brother.

Thanks, man.

Pounds and chastain.

Must be my day.

Our fearless task force leader and internal affairs.

Professional standards bureau, Bosch.

Join the 21st century with the rest of us, huh?

Whatever the f*ck you guys call yourselves these days.

The rat squad.

Here to put in the good word, fellas?

Detective, you made your bed. Nobody else but.

You look like sh*t, Bosch.

No, you do.

It's the pressure, it's getting to you, huh?

Yeah.

Yeah.

And just so you know, Money Chandler, she didn't have to subpoena me.

I'd have been here anyway, bells on.

Pow.

Bosch.

Deputy Chief.

You been subpoenaed too?

I'm only here to show my support.

Yeah.

You've got me wrong, Detective.

And you have to understand something.

My primary objective is to protect the reputation of the los angeles Police department.

And we don't wash our laundry in public, especially not in federal court.

So you're not here to hang me out to dry.

On the contrary.

The department exonerated you.

They had to. It was a good sh**ting.

All rise for the jury.

How was your weekend?

su1c1de, possible child m*rder.

How was yours?

Well, quiet.

Very quiet.

Worked on my opening.

Is it good?

Mm-hmm.

Please be seated.

We will begin today with opening statements.

These are not to be construed as actual evidence.

It is up to you, ladies and gentlemen, as adjudicators of fact to decide if what the attorneys allege in these opening statements is proven during the course of this trial.

Ms. Chandler, you may address the jury.

Thank you, your honor.

Good morning.

Judge keyes is quite right.

You, ladies and gentlemen, will be deciding the merits of the case that I will be presenting to you on behalf of my clients, Rosa Flores and her daughter, elena.

And you will be deciding it based on actual evidence.

I promise you that.

This case is about the fatal sh**ting of a man named Roberto Flores, a loving husband and father.

This case is about the officer who sh*t Roberto Flores and took his life.

This case is about that officer sitting at the defendant's table, Harry Bosch.

Hiding behind the color of law, on a rainy november evening two years ago, Detective Bosch sh*t and k*lled Roberto Flores.

Roberto Flores was unarmed.

He offered no resistance.

He posed no thr*at.

We will prove that in a moment of hatred, Detective Bosch sh*t and k*lled an unarmed, innocent man.

Then he planted a g*n on the victim to cover it up and try to justify his murderous actions.

Detective Bosch sh*t dead a man he thought was a serial k*ller.

There was no legal basis for that belief.

Mr. Flores hadn't been arrested or charged with any crime.

Mr. Flores had no criminal record.

There was no reason for detective Bosch to stalk Roberto Flores that night, no reason to deprive him of due process, and no reason to k*ll him in cold blood.

The philosopher Friedrich nietzsche said, "he who fights monsters should take care he does not become a monster himself. For when you look into the abyss, the abyss looks into you."

Ladies and gentlemen, that's what this case is about.

Detective Bosch has looked into the abyss more than once.

And on that november evening when he k*lled Roberto Flores, the abyss looked into him.

But thanks to you, Roberto Flores will finally have his day in court, and you can right a great wrong done to him and to his family.

Thank you.

Mr. Belk.

Ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Chandler quoted nietzsche.

Allow me to quote sun tzu, <i>the art of w*r.</i>

When detective Bosch encountered Roberto Flores in that dark, rainy alley two years ago, he entered what sun tzu referred to as "the dying ground."

Detective Bosch had to make a split-second decision: Fight or perish.

sh**t or be sh*t.

For us to second-guess his actions now is impossible and unfair.

We weren't there.

We didn't have to make that decision.

The facts will show that Mr. Flores ignored detective Bosch's command to put up his hands, to keep them in plain sight, ignored his command to freeze.

And the facts will show that mr. Flores was armed.

Hey.

How'd it go?

Pfft. You?

Knocked on a few doors. Nothing yet.

Golliher's ready for us, if you're up for it.

After this bullshit?

Morgue will be a breath of fresh air.

Yeah.

We recovered about 60% of the skeleton at the site.

Given the shallow nature of the grave, the rest of the remains were no doubt scattered by animals over the years.

Is that enough? 60%?

More than enough in this case, Detective.

More than enough.

Tell us what you got, doc.

Let's start with the basics.

Young male caucasoid.

Comparison to maresh growth standard indices puts his age at approximately ten years old.

But this child was a victim of severe, prolonged physical abuse.

Victims of chronic abuse often suffer growth disruption, abuse-related stunting, that skews age estimation.

What you get is a skeleton that's smaller than it should be.

The long limb bones are shorter than one would expect.

How old is he, really?

I would say, best guess, 12 or 13.

Time of death? We have the coin.

Which gives us the early parameter of 1989.

So you think he's been in the ground since then?

25 years?

Well, we have surgical evidence that supports the estimation of 18 to 24 years.

Cause of death?

Let's save cause of death for last.

Before we get to that, I want to give you an idea of what this boy had to endure during his short lifetime.

All right, tell it your way, doc.

Well, even with partial remains, we have definitive proof of tremendous skeletal trauma and chronic abuse.

Bones heal themselves.

And through the study of bone regeneration, we can establish a history of abuse.

On these bones are multiple lesions in different stages of healing, fractures old and new.

We only have two of the four extremities, but both of them show multiple instances of trauma.

I counted 44 distinct locations indicating separate trauma in various stages of healing.

Jesus christ. 44?

And that's just the bones.

The damage that would have been inflicted on his vital organs and tissue must have been tremendous.

Without a doubt, somebody kicked the sh*t out of this kid on a daily basis.

Let me show you something.

The femur, the upper thigh.

This line here, where the color changes, is one of the lesions.

This boy suffered a powerful blow in the weeks before his death.

It didn't break the bone, but it damaged it.

Would no doubt have caused bruising and affected his walk.

Somebody must have noticed.

You would think.

The right humerus shows two separate and healed breaks, one spiral fracture, one bucket.

Spiral fractures are the result of twisting the arm with great force.

Bucket fractures result from pulling the arm with the same kind of v*olence.

Now, the ulna, the lower arm, shows a healed latitudinal fracture, a parry fracture.

The break caused a slight deviation in the attitude of the bone.

Explain what that means to my partner.

It means the bone was allowed to heal in place after the injury.

Nobody took him to a doctor.

Apparently not.

It's a common accidental injury, but it can also be a defensive one.

Ward off a blow with the forearm.

Because of the lack of medical attention, my supposition is that this was not an accidental injury but, rather, part of the abuse pattern.

I got to take a leak. Keep going.