03x01 - The Smog Cutter

[bunniefuu]

Last season onBosch...

Don't walk away from...

Oh! Hey! Hey!

Hey, Harry. How's it hanging?

Welcome back, partner.

A man named Anthony Allen was m*rder*d over the weekend.

Ohh!

His body was discovered yesterday in the trunk of his car above Mulholland.

When you're finished here, go notify the next of kin.

Do we know who that is yet? Veronica Allen.

Well, do you have a suspect?

We came up here to talk to Carl Nash, but he's not at work today.

Why on earth would you want to speak with him?

He's become a person of interest in this case.

Not that you'd know this, but he's got quite a checkered past.

My lawyer called.

Should be on the probate docket any day.

When exactly?

Soon. Just be patient.

Patience is my middle name.

These cases are 35 years old.

Doesn't matter. 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.

Who was he?

He called himself Mitch.

It's the only name I ever knew him by.

What about the detective? Do you remember his name?

No, I... Was it Caffrey?

John Caffrey?

Fox Mitchell was an alias, okay?

He was a snitch.

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.

So what's going on at home?

I don't know.

Mom and Reggie were arguing a lot, and then all of a sudden he goes to Hong Kong.

There's been an officer-involved sh**ting.

I got a call to pick you up and bring you to the scene.

Oh, my boy.

In memory of your son, and on behalf of a grateful city and the Los Angeles Police Department.

You... k*lled him.

I can't stand to look at you.

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?

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!

What happened?

He att*cked me.

Woman: And how many times did you hit him?

Once or... or twice.

I don't... I don't really remember.

I was terrified.

You feared for your life. I did.

So is that enough?

Bosch! I'm good!

Aah!

sh*t.

Arno Apperson, also known as Fox Mitchell.

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

What are you looking at him for?

m*rder of Marjorie Lowe, my mother.

Jesus.

You tied Apperson 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.

I want to know where he is.

I'll see what I can find out.

What's up, man?

I'm looking for Big Wave Dave. He around?

He's been dead a while now.

This him?

Yeah. Dave Arenson.

sh*t.

f*ck.

f*ck.

All right. All right.

sh*t.

Male newscaster: Returning from the national picture, with 80% of the vote counted, incumbent mayor Hector Ramos has an 11-point lead over Republican challenger District Attorney Rick O'Shea.

Female newscaster: Some observers believe O'Shea's bid for the city's top job was fatally damaged a year ago by the video that showed him ordering the shackles removed from a m*rder suspect who then escaped custody, sh**ting a prosecutor and wounding a police detective.

There are still two years remaining to O'Shea's term as District Attorney, but the once rising star appears to be at a crossroads in his career.

Think you've had enough.

f*ck you I've had enough.

I'll tell you when I've had enough.

Got no call to cut me off long as he's buying.

Pour yourself one.

It's on him.

That okay with you?

Why the f*ck not?

Jesse: There you go. That's good.

From Atwater Village to Arlington Heights, from Highland Park to the Hollywood Hills, From Sylmar to South L.A....

...the people of Los Angeles have sent a message, a strong message, that...

Bosch. This is Webster at Rampart.

Sorry to bother you so late, but I got Ed Gunn here again.

What do you want me to do with him?

Keep him awake till I get there.

I'm on my way.

Conscious when I called you.

I swear.

What's this mutt to you? Cold case.

Serial k*ller.

No sh*t.

Him?

Who'd he k*ll? Some other rummies?

Couple young women, back in the day.

Gonna book him?

The sheriffs don't want him.

We'll frick him in the morning, soon as he's sober.

I'll be back before that happens.

I need a word.

Enter the code.

8979.

This it? Yeah, this is it.

Right here.

Okay.

All right.

Okay.

Where are your keys?

Wait a minute. I got them.

All right.

Oh, you got 'em?

Okay. Good. Come on.

Okay. Come on. Thank you.

Morning. Morning.

Breakfast?

I'll grab something at school.

You look nice.

Thanks.

I got court today.

But tired.

Up late watching the returns.

Presidential election?

Dad, don't be a derp.

I'm totally putting you on. I even know who won.

Uh-huh. I'm gonna quiz you on that later.

I'm gonna be able to vote next year.

Oof. That's a terrifying thought.

And when are you gonna let me get my license?

Hmm. Significantly more terrifying thought.

I have my permit. You can teach me.

Whoa. Hat trick. You're on a roll.

Maddie: But you already testified.

No, the defense lawyer reserved their cross examination until the end of their case.

Do you think she'll get off? Might.

Can't predict juries.

And you're sure she did it?

Beyond a reasonable doubt.

You're gonna say that?

I can only answer the questions they ask me truthfully.

Uch. What?

You were doing so well.

I'm gonna quit again.

I promise.

Soon.

I want you to see this.

Okay?

You shouldn't litter.

You said you wanted me to stop.

I... I just stopped. You saw it.

For real this time? You promise?

I promise.

Truthfully?

You really do take after your mother.

What the f*ck?

5:25 a.m. $500 bond.

Who wrote the bond?

AAA Bail.

He was gonna be released anyway.

Who'd waste the money to bail him out?

Family. Friend. He's got no friends.

Sister washed her hands of him years ago.

And how the hell would she know he was here?

Called her? He didn't call anybody.

He's a black-out drunk.

He washes up on you again, I want to be notified.

It's in the computer, detective.

Just make sure it happens.

Yes?

Mayor Ramos here to see you.

Send him in.

Irv. Mr. Mayor.

Jen.

This is a surprise. I would have come to you.

Doing my victory lap. You're my first stop.

Please have a seat.

And congratulations.

Thank you.

It was a great night.

Get you anything? Water? Coffee?

No. We're good.

Thank you, Ida.

I wanted to thank you in person for your support.

I doubt it made much of a difference.

Numbers say otherwise.

You're a popular dude, Chief... south of I-10, east of the river, Westside, even the Valley.

The Valley? Imagine that.

So we're grateful.

You know, you could use the Chief's office.

It's nicer than mine.

I'm happy here.

Besides, I wouldn't want to send the wrong message.

We know you've had other offers.

I haven't accepted any.

Good to hear.

I still intend to step down at the end of the year.

Then we have till then to change your mind.

Detective, you testified previously that, when you encountered Mrs. Allen in the church, she was distraught.

She seemed to be, yes.

There was blood on her right hand.

There was blood on her dress.

And upon entering Father Tabakian's office, what did you see?

He was lying on the floor.

The back of his head had been bashed in.

He was unresponsive, not breathing.

A heavy trophy was lying nearby, covered in blood, and a pair of scissors had been placed under his left hand.

Placed? That was my impression.

Placed?

By whom, in your opinion?

The defendant. Mrs. Allen.

You didn't witness her do that.

No.

Were her fingerprints on the scissors?

No.

Were any prints found on the scissors?

Father Tabakian's.

What was your initial assessment at the scene?

That they had quarreled over the money, that Mrs. Allen had struck Father Tabakian with the trophy, and then planted the scissors in his hand to make it look like self-defense.

Detective, your partner testified that you told him from the beginning you believed the scissors were planted.

That is correct. You never considered that her story of self-defense might be true?

Considered and dismissed.

Detective, weren't you a defendant in a civil suit where you were accused of planting evidence?

Yes.

What was the outcome of that lawsuit?

The jury found for the plaintiff.

Nothing further.

Detective, did the jury in that case conclude that you had planted evidence?

No. Did the findings against you involve falsifying of evidence in any way?

No.

And the total amount in damages awarded to the plaintiff?

One dollar.

One dollar.

Nothing further, Your Honor.

The witness may step down.

Ms. Chandler, any other witnesses?

Uh, just one, Your Honor.

The defense calls Mrs. Anthony Allen.

Uh, Your Honor, given the late hour, I suggest we recess for the day.

Court will resume in the morning with Mrs. Allen's testimony.

Señor Bosch.

Gracias, Gladys.

De nada.

Gracias. De nada.

Talk to your mom lately?

We Skyped Sunday.

You should make that a standing date... once a week, Sunday.

Well, her Sunday or my Sunday?

Whichever.

The time difference. It's so hard.

Plus, she and Reggie work nights.

It's morning here, it's evening in Hong Kong, and it's not even the same day.

Okay. Don't whine. Just try.

I'm not whining.

Okay.

You've been working late a lot.

Prepping the Holland trial.

What? What's that look?

Nothing.

You've been spending a lot of time with her.

Her? Who? Anita?

Oh, that's what you call her? Anita?

Deputy DA Benitez to you.

Whatever.

When's the trial?

A few weeks.

I've got court in the morning, then tomorrow we go over to his house, revisit the crime scene.

Will he be there?

Yeah. He's under house arrest.

What's he like? Andrew Holland?

He's a creep.

His movies are creepy.

You've seen his movies?

My friends like them more than I do.

Will you have to testify?

Yeah.

Can I come watch you? No.

Why not? It's a m*rder trial, Maddie.

It's not an entertainment.

Dad, get real.

It so is an entertainment.

Famous director kills an aspiring actress during sex.

All my friends think it's cool that you were the one who arrested him.

He's not famous.

He is now.

I went there to get my money back.

The money your husband's mistress stole from you.

And gave to Father Tabakian.

I explained to him who she was and what she'd done.

And how did he respond?

He defended her.

She was so innocent, so pure.

He didn't believe me.

What did you do then?

I showed him the pictures of them together.

And how did he respond to that?

He...

He got so angry.

He told me to leave.

He said he'd never give me my money back.

And then he threatened me.

He threatened you?

Said he'd call the police, have me arrested.

Then he...

he put his hands on me.

Take your time.

Thank you.

He began... pushing me toward the door.

And he...

he picked up a pair of scissors, and... came at me again.

What did you do?

I grabbed the nearest thing I could to defend myself.

The trophy.

He lunged at me.

I thought he was going to k*ll me, so I... I... I hit him.

I hit him. I had no choice.

I'm so, so sorry.

...as soon as possible. Right.

Detectives.

Mr. District Attorney.

Kind of ballsy of her to put her client on the stand.

Could've backfired.

Mrs. Allen was a compelling witness.

What's your gut?

We'll see.

I thought Amanda did the best she could on the redirect, given that you did lose that case, dollar or no dollar.

I meant, any guess on when the jury comes back?

If I were to bet, tomorrow afternoon at the latest.

My office will give you a heads up.

Should've taken that bet.

assh*le.

Headed back to the house?

I gotta go do this thing with Benitez.

The Holland case? How's that going?

In a rational world, it'd be a slam dunk.

She's kind of a dish, Benitez.

Is she?

I mean for someone who's age appropriate.

f*ck you.

You ought to ask her out.

We're working together.

That's never stopped you.

Counselor, does your client want to join us?

I know he's under house arrest, but I'm sure he's allowed in the driveway.

He's fine where he is. Thank you.

On the night Donatella Spear was m*rder*d...

That has not been proved, counselor.

Please.

On October 12 of last year, Miss Spear arrived at 8:32 p.m.

We have security data and video.

Someone exited the house, no video, at 11:20 p.m.

Mr. Holland and Miss Spear.

And through the main vehicle entrance 14 minutes later.

He was driving her home after an evening of consensual relations.

He's a real gentleman. She was already dead.

No. Alive and well.

14 minutes from the house to the car and out the gate?

Well, they'd had a lot to drink.

They'd done some Ecstasy.

And they were still in a... let's call it a frisky mood.

Making out. Parking.

Ever do it, Bosch, in your youth?

Maybe he was trying to put a seat belt on a corpse.

Someone... Mr. Holland, presumably... returned through that gate at 1:52 a.m.

Holland told us he dropped off Spear at her house around midnight, was back here by 12:30.

That's nearly 90 minutes unaccounted for.

He was mistaken about the time.

He was under the influence.

Bosch, who knows where the f*ck the time goes, right?

They were f*cked up. Why would he lie about something that's so easy to check?

Because he's an arrogant prick.

You would know.

Let me ask you something, Rudy.

You miss the job?

f*ck, no. Not for a second.

I was never a lifer like you.

Oh, yeah, right.

20 years of just going through the motions.

But pimping for celebrities? That's low.

That's low even for a bottom feeder like you.

Bosch, Bosch, Bosch.

Look at you.

Most guys would've pulled the pin, take the pension, lean back, enjoy life.

Except you got none.

When the department finally puts you out to pasture, you'll eat your g*n.

Benitez: 40 minutes door to door in traffic.

Bosch: That night, that hour? Under ten.

I've been here at night.

It's dark dark.

Private.

He uses her keys, drags her body up the stairs, stages a scene.

There's your missing 90 minutes.

He must have had help.

Rudy Tafero's my bet.

We've been at this for 13 months.

We don't have any evidence, any witnesses.

Ran the phone records. No calls.

The place was wiped clean. That's suspicious.

It's all suspicious.

And if Holland were an ordinary mook with a public defender, he'd be begging to cop a plea.

But he's a semi-famous film director with a high-priced mouthpiece.

Well, I still think he'll plead.

This is L.A. I got two words for you.

Don't say O.J.

Robert Blake.

Phil Spector.

The exception that proves the rule.

So his story is:

They have sex.

He brings her home, drops her.

She's still hot. She's still high on the X.

He leaves. She wants to get off again.

Auto-erotic asphyxiation is a male phenomenon.

There are cases of females... Very few.

A few is all they need.

That's why your testimony is so important.

Excuse me.

Jerry. Caught one, partner.

I'll text the address. On my way.

I'll drop you at your car.

Edge, what you got?

White male, thirties.

Looks like a single GSW. Hard to tell.

Head's like a baked apple. No I.D.

You glove up before you went in, Powers?

Yeah, I did.

He's been cooking.

Might want a hazmat to go with those gloves.

What was that about?

f*cking Bosch.

Jerry.

"De Oppresso Liber."

"Free the oppressed"?

More like "I was an oppressed man.

Now I'm free."

Oh, f*ck this, Harry.

This sh*t is hazardous to human health.

Coroner can get the body out, call for a tow.

Crims can process this over at FSD.

Air it the f*ck out.

Powers, you run the plates?

I'm not a boot, Bosch.

R-O comes back to a male in Eagle Rock.

Who called it in?

Shopping cart lady flagged us down.

Door was open, flapping in the breeze.

Lock's busted. Scene's f*cked.

People in and out, stealing sh*t, God knows what. This suit is toast.

That looks kind of fresh.

I know that tag.

I might have a shake on him. I'll look.

It's a waste a time.

It's a homeless on homeless drug m*rder.

There's no way we clear this.

Everybody counts, or nobody counts.

Written on the wall at RHD.

Doesn't mean it always rings true here on the streets.

It should.

Whatever.

Come on, Harry.

That tattoo. It's an SF tattoo.

Army, Special Forces.

Special Forces, huh? Like Green Beret?

You got one, too?

Want to see it? I'll pass.

Lieutenant.

Captain.

This thing is bullshit.

I don't disagree.

How are you feeling about the verdict?

Confident.

From what I hear, the defense scored some points off our people.

Oh, it's just boilerplate blame the police.

Your lead detective has a history.

Uh, he has a history of being accused.

Where there's smoke.

Not always.

Sometimes it's just somebody blowing it up your ass.

Congrats on passing the written.

Oh, thanks. Nervous about the orals.

I don't see why.

The orals should be right up your alley.

Excuse me?

Here we go. That's my key.

Morning, Juan.

Homicide. He's out.

I used to say it as a joke, you know?

Gentlemen.

Lieutenant.

Say what as a joke? What's going on?

Why the long faces?

You know how I always introduce Renee as the future ex-Mrs. Johnson?

I thought that was funny, you know, given my matrimonial history, and...

Ah, Barrel, I am so sorry.

What're ya gonna do?

No retirement for you, pal.

Now you're stuck with me.

f*ck you. I'm not sticking around just to keep you company.

Yeah, you are. No I'm not.

You guys headed downtown?

Yeah, just leaving.

So is it good sign or a bad sign?

Who knows?

Good sign.

The jury's out two days?

That's a bad sign.

Do you need to take some time?

Eh, better to stay busy. But thanks, Lieutenant.

All right, if you need anything, let me know.

Boy, she's all right, Grace.

Nobody like her.

f*cking hate to see her make Captain.

Are you serious?

No telling who we'd end up with.

I feel the same way.

Anything we can do to, uh, f*ck up her chances?

Just keep doing what we're doing.

Jesus, you guys. Selfish assholes.

I'm just joking. I mean, you know, we wish her the best.

You know, she deserves to make Captain, right?

f*ck that. It'd be a calamity.

I'll light a candle.

I've been informed that the jury finds itself still deadlocked and that further deliberations would be fruitless.

Therefore, on the single count of m*rder Two, The People of California versus Veronica Allen, I declare a mistrial.

No jeopardy attaches.

The defendant's bond is released.

What does that mean, no jeopardy?

They can retry you.

That's not fair.

Well, don't worry about it yet.

Let's celebrate this victory.

This is a good thing, Ronnie.

This is not over.

Detective.

Seven to five for acquittal?

Why would the next jury find you any more persuasive than this one did?

Trust me.

The District Attorney will weigh the odds and cut his losses. The DA will re-try.

I'll make it my mission.

You are a dog with a bone.

And you, Mrs. Allen, are a liar and a m*rder*r.

You really do need to get a life, detective.

I still owe you that drink.

Ring my bell any time.

Ouch. Must be oh so sore by now.

Most of the usable prints belong to a William Meadows.

m*llitary? How'd you know?

The tattoos. How'd you know? Documents in the van pertaining to a Staff Sergeant William Meadows and letters addressed to a Billy Meadows.

He the deceased?

Waiting on the autopsy for an I.D.

They're super backed up over there.

He the owner of this little slice of heaven?

We think so. Any prints besides Meadows?

A multitude. Coppers said the place was ransacked after he d*ed.

Homeless on homeless, right?

Most likely.

Chandler: The people's case was flimsy, and the jury agreed.

Bet it was the men voted to acquit.

I hear you, brother. I'd acquit that any day.

They heard the testimony.

They found Mrs. Allen more compelling...

You guys do look shifty, like a couple of salt-and-pepper shakedown artists preying on lonely widows.

Shake this. Eh.

Well, we're disappointed.

But this office will study the events of this trial before we decide whether to retry Mrs. Allen.

Whether to retry? Are you kidding me?

That chickenshit.

Excuse me.

Mr. District Attorney. Benitez.

Bosch.

Anita was just bringing me up to speed on the Holland case...

All right, I have to tell you.

After what happened today, I'm concerned.

Don't be.

And since you brought it up, The Allen case, which way are you leaning?

Oh, I've made up my mind. Mm-hmm.

This office will not file new charges against Veronica Allen.

Hold on a minute. You're sh1tting me.

Honey Chandler has painted an indelible portrait of you, detective, one that cannot be erased: that you can't be trusted, That you'll do anything, say anything, cut any corner, to win.

That's bullshit. I don't do that.

You have that reputation, detective, deserved or not.

Between you and Mrs. Allen and credibility, it's no contest.

So, no. I won't refile.

Now if you'll excuse us, we've got business.

Now, you listen to me, you smug son of a bitch.

You don't want to pursue this.

You don't want to do your job.

This is payback. This is your vendetta with Irving.

Harry...

Harry, stop.

sh*t.

Dad?

Yeah.

You going to bed?

Yeah.

You finish your homework?

Dad, you're on the internet.

I'm just doing something for work.

No, I mean you.

You're on the internet.

You don't want to pursue this.

You don't want to do your job.

This is payback. This is your vendetta with Irving.

Harry. Harry, stop.

You look like you wanted to k*ll him.

We had an argument.

I shouldn't have lost my temper.

Okay?

Well, you're lucky.

It only got, like, 37 retweets.

You have to be really careful these days, Dad.

Literally everything is on camera.

Ain't it the truth.

Okay, honey. Good night.

Good night.

Ah, sh*t.

50 bucks.

Deal.

Get in.

This class of recruits exemplifies the core values of the Los Angeles Police Department: service to the community, reverence for the law, integrity. leadership, respect for all people.

Keep these values in mind, and strive to uphold them throughout your careers.

It is a privilege to be a Los Angeles police officer.

It is an honor to wear this uniform.

And with it comes enormous responsibility and an awesome commitment to protect this city and its citizens...

with your lives if necessary.

Not so many years ago, on a day like this...

I was in the audience.

My son graduated that day.

And I could not have been prouder.

My son honored that commitment.

He made the ultimate sacrifice.

So I honor his memory every time I put on this uniform, just as you honor the memory of every officer who has given his or her life in the line of duty.

Wear it with pride.

Respect what it represents:

to serve and protect the citizens of Los Angeles.

Officer: Class 516.

A-ten-hut!

Class 516, on behalf of the Mayor and the City of Los Angeles, welcome to the Los Angeles Police Department.

Smile, man, smile.

A happy day. Well done, Irv.

Thank you, Brad.

How goes the search?

The board's split.

Do we pick an insider like you?

Go outside, someone with no ties to the department?

No potential conflicts of interest?

Maybe it's time for the first female chief, the first Latino.

You could make it easy on us.

Stick around.

Put us out of our misery.

Look, I've already told the mayor.

I know, I know. You're a stubborn son of a bitch.

So I hear.

Talk him into it?

What do you think, Hector?

That was moving, Irv, inspirational, first-rate. I mean it.

You're held in high regard by your troops.

Thank you. O'Shea: Mr. Mayor.

Bradley. Richard.

Congratulations, Chief.

Um, a word?

Gentlemen.

You need to put your att*ck dog back on his leash.

Come in.

Captain?

I just had a call from Chief Irving.

It's about Bosch.

I have something to show you.

I thought he was more chipper lately, more hopeful. Probably just high.

Mr. Meadows, was your son in treatment?

NA? AA?

Any veteran's groups?

He'd tell you he was.

When he first got back he was.

Did he have a cell phone?

One after another. What do they call them?

Burners.

Yeah, always a different number.

If we can get a hold of the latest.

We're like to talk to anyone who might have seen him or spoken to him recently.

Friends, girlfriends.

Ohh. None that we knew of.

Army buds? Anybody he might have kept in touch with?

I think he pretty much lost touch with everyone.

Did you see him often?

First of the month.

Pick up his check.

That was the deal. I'd cash it for him, and that was that.

No. Not just.

A meal, a change of clothes, hot shower.

I'd do his wash for him.

Some men never grow up.

You ever visit him?

He wouldn't ever tell us where he was living.

He was ashamed, Hal.

That was just before he deployed the first time.

Edgar: The first time?

Once to Iraq, twice to Afghanistan.

A Green Beret.

That's a real accomplishment, Mrs. Meadows.

We were proud of him.

I'm sure you are.

It wrecked him, this damn w*r.

He had no end of troubles when he finally came home.

Now this.

Take your time.

I'll tell you what isn't here: his kit.

Anything to do with his service.

No unit patches, no challenge coins, no souvenirs, no uniform, no beret.

Just this one picture.

He kept his things at The Bin.

Downtown? On Fifth Street?

Yeah, his important things from the army.

The RV wasn't safe.

Why didn't he keep them here?

He said he didn't want to infect us.

Thank you.

I'll write the warrant.

Hey. Billets: Oh.

Sorry I'm late.

Traffic coming from the Westside was m*rder, miserable.

We made ramen.

I see that. Want some?

It's good. Salty. Slurpy.

Naw, I'm not hungry, but I'm gonna grab a beer and come join you.

So, Grace, what brings you by?

Mm, just checking on you two, making sure you're getting along.

We're doing good. Maddie? Excellent.

Harry's gonna teach me how to drive.

Ooh. Brave man.

We'll see.

Maddie was just telling me about Eleanor and Reggie in Hong Kong.

Doing well, by all accounts.

Yeah, but you must miss them.

A lot. They're planning to come home for Christmas.

They are? Good to know.

Grace, seconds?

No, I'm good, thanks. It was delish.

Thanks.

I have homework.

Okay.

It's good to see you, Maddie.

You, too. Tell Lisa I said hi.

Will do.

Your little outburst with the DA.

It's gone viral.

IA is going to file a 128 against you.

What a pain in the ass.

Do me a favor, take their call.

Yeah, yeah.

No, I mean it.

Lewis is on the w*r path.

I said yeah.

I'm worried about you, Harry.

Don't be. I'm fine.

I don't think you are.

I'm tired is all.

I'm not sleeping.

All right, well, take some vacation days.

When Maddie finishes school.

You know what? f*ck this.

This is me, Grace, asking.

What the f*ck is eating you, Harry?

I thought that closing your mother's m*rder would bring you some peace.

Instead, it's made you more miserable.

Peace?

That's a load of sh*t.

Her m*rder*r got away with it, and my department helped him do it.

Things have changed.

It's not the same department.

It's the same world.

You need to get over it and get yourself right.

Just wanted to say good night.

Good night, honey.

You okay?

Yeah, I'm fine.

What did Grace want, really?

Just wanted to make sure we're okay.

We are, right?

Of course. Absolutely.

Good.

Good night. Good night.

Love you. Love you, too.

Aah!

No!

Who the f*ck are you?