Bosch (2014–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - Chapter Three: Blue Religion - full transcript

You want his neck swabbed for foreign DNA?

Might as well dot the I's.

He left a note.

My client was an innocent man.

What's it say?

Swears he didn't do the kid.

Killing himself because
the police and press

have destroyed his life, and

he can't go on.

And there's this other stuff.

"My one regret is for my children."



"Who will take care of my children?"

You know what that means, Mr. Morton?

- Who these children are?
- I have no idea.

He didn't deserve this.

And you're responsible.

You're all responsible.

His feet were on the ground.
He could have stood up,

saved himself.

No second thoughts.

He's been waiting for
this day for 20 years.

And it finally came.

Detective Bosch, want to make a statement?

- Stay back from him, please.
- It's all right. Yeah.

Thanks to you and your story,



- Trent killed himself.
- Are you saying that he wasn't a suspect?

- That he was innocent?
- I'm saying that thanks to you

and your irresponsible
reporting, we may never know

what happened to that
little boy up on the hill.

Isn't suicide evidence
of a guilty conscience?

Maybe. Maybe it isn't.

But if Trent didn't do
it, how you gonna feel?

Everything I wrote was true.

I'm not responsible for
what happened up there.

Sleep tight, pal.

You led me to him. How's your conscience?

Come on, Bosch.

It's not worth it.

It's Baker, right?

What do you want?

- Paper?
- Read it already.

That phone.

What phone?

The one you got from the deputy.

What's it cost? I need to make a call.

A blowjob.

Well, if you're so hot to give me one,

knock yourself out.

You got money?

Yeah.

Who you got to call?

My mother.

Jesus.

Maybe it's a gang tat.

Yeah. I'll run it by Alvarez.

I doubt it. He's got no rap.

- Who's got no rap?
- Raynard Waits.

Dude with the body in his van?

He does have one kick-ass crime kit.

Check out this choke hood.

That's definitely after-market.

You familiar with the phrase
"put a bag over their head"?

You guys are the worst.

Barrel, what's up with this?

What do you think? Elves.

- It's Christmas.
- These are Keebler elves,

- not Christmas elves.
- So what?

It's snack food.

It worries me you know about this shit.

You don't?

You found me.

No problem.

Did you take this shot of the great white?

False Bay, South Africa.

Swam right up, bit the cage.

Holy shit.

It's the good thing about
being in the water...

No one can tell you peed your pants.

You know their eyes are blue?

- Sharks? Seriously?
- Yeah.

Like Brad Pitt.

I would've said Paul Newman.

- Maybe you are too old for me.
- Maybe I am.

Hey, sky diving, mountain climbing...

Life is short.

I hope I can keep up with you.

Mm.

That's nice wine.

I didn't have time after
work to pick any up.

Afraid from here on out, it's beer.

So, I take it you weren't terminated?

Oh, Mank reamed meat roll call.

Called me12 kinds of reckless.

It was semi-humiliating.

Then, of course, I got another unsat.

I don't know. Maybe he's got
a thing against women cops.

Mank doesn't have a
thing against women cops.

Yeah, I... I know. I
was just kidding, Harry.

That second unsat is serious.

20 years ago, you did what you did,

you would have gotten a commendation.

Not anymore. It's by the book now.

- Zero tolerance.
- Okay.

- I hear you.
- Do you?

'Cause one more, and you're out.

It won't be up to Mank.

- Harry...
- It's automatic.

... You're not my T. O.
Stop fucking lecturing me.

I'm just trying to give
you a reality check.

I appreciate that.

And Mank's right.

Leaving your partner?

- It is reckless.
- Jesus, Harry.

I got it. Can we move on?

Yeah, sure.

"Reckless." That's pretty
funny, coming from you.

- Okay.
- Yeah, and leaving your partner?

Who does that? I don't know.

- Let me think.
- Julia, get your head out of your ass.

Fuck you, Harry.

I've been a cop 25 years.

You are a boot still on probation.

- There is a difference.
- Yeah, there is.

You're being sued for breaking
the rules, and I'm not.

The fuck are you gonna do
when they toss you out, huh?

How you gonna get your kicks
without a gun and a badge?

I think it's time for you to leave.

Yeah. Me, too.

You ever been there? El Cid?

- We drive by it all the time.
- No.

I don't know shit about flamenco.

But she wanted to go, and,
you know, I wanted to get laid.

And this chick's stomping her
feet, screaming, "ay, ay, ay!"

Kind of hot.

During the performance, or
while you were having sex?

Whoa.

I guess I know who
didn't get any last night.

- Hey, guys.
- Mitz.

So, we're finished in the
garage and the master bedroom,

and they're just finishing
in the office now.

Cool.

There's an unopened fifth of Maker's Mark

in the liquor cabinet, so be good.

Shot of that might improve your mood.

Seriously, Harry? A boot?

Start upstairs.

Jerry.

That stuff in Trent's
note, about his "children."

- Mm-hmm?
- Found them.

Every month.

20 bucks here, 15 there.

For years.

Making up for what he
did, killing that boy.

- Seeking redemption.
- Why not?

You really think he's our guy?

- He's a child molester.
- Doesn't make him a killer.

They all start somewhere.

Yeah, they do.

"Mr. Trent was a pedophile
with a criminal record.

"He lived in close proximity

to the burial site of a murdered child."

"After being questioned by investigators,

he committed suicide."

"Whether Mr. Trent was responsible

for the death of the victim

is pending further investigation."

Given that the LAPD is being
blamed for Trent's suicide,

I think we can agree

this press release will do
nothing to help our situation.

It's accurate.

We still don't know Trent killed that kid.

Now, if we could modify the release,

indicate we think
there's a good probability

Trent was the killer...

We'd get the stink off.

Pin the murder on the dead perv

and walk away with a Disney ending.

Jesus Christ, Bosch.

Detective, we're not gonna
pin the murder on anyone.

What makes you think Trent's not our guy?

This child was physically
abused every day of his life.

More than likely, the killer
was someone close to him...

A family member, a friend, a neighbor.

Billets told me you found photos of kids.

He supported children's charities...

Solicitations, the kind
you get in the mail.

$1.65 a day sends a Bolivian kid to school.

We also found a box of tweener boy's stuff.

- Toys, games...
- Trent was a set decorator.

He had all kinds of stuff in his house.

Maybe I'm missing something,

but it seems to me all
of this points to Trent.

Okay. Case closed.

Let's all go get a beer.

Go with the press release as-is.

Don't be confused.

Whatever the defense
would have you believe,

this case is not about a serial killer.

This case is only about

the fatal shooting

of a man named Roberto Flores...

A loving husband and father

who was shot to death

one rainy October evening two years ago

by Detective Harry Bosch.

Roberto Flores was unarmed.

Roberto Flores offered no resistance.

Roberto Flores had no criminal record.

Detective Bosch could have arrested

Roberto Flores that night,

taken him into custody, read
him his rights, interrogated him,

given him the chance to obtain counsel

and defend himself.

Instead,

Detective Bosch, for deeply
personal reasons of his own,

and in violation of LAPD
procedure and policy,

deprived Roberto Flores of due process,

deprived him of his civil rights,

and took his life.

Ladies and gentlemen, it's very clear.

Detective Bosch, under color of law,

broke every rule in the book

when he killed Roberto
Flores in cold blood.

Thank you.

Mr. Belk.

Ladies and gentlemen...

When Detective Bosch
encountered Roberto Flores

in that dark, rainy alley two years ago,

he had to make a split-second decision.

For us to second-guess his actions now

is impossible...

And unfair.

We weren't there.

We didn't have to make
that life-or-death decision.

Now, Mr. Flores

ignored Detective Bosch's orders

to put up his hands and
keep them in plain sight.

He ignored Detective
Bosch's orders to freeze.

And Mr. Flores was armed.

No one planted that gun
in that alley that night.

That gun belonged to Mr.
Flores and no one else.

Ooh. Merci beaucoup.

What's the occasion?

Thanks for not getting her shit-canned.

I have no idea what you're
talking about, Detective.

But I appreciate the brioche.

Anything on the tip line?

Yes, there is.

Um...

A guy from Hemet called.

Apparently, the remains
are extra-terrestrial.

Also, uh, Sheila Delacroix.

Her brother Arthur Delacroix

went missing in 1994
when he was 12 years old.

- Surgeries?
- Yes.

Cranial surgery six months
before he went missing.

He fell off his skateboard
and cracked his skull.

- Follow up with that, then.
- All right.

Harry?

Brasher,

two unsats... I mean, she's
your friend, you might...

I should have a talk
with her. Yeah. Good idea.

- All right.
- Thanks.

Be safe.

So, on the news this morning...

An unnamed LAPD source says
that, despite official denials,

Nicholas Trent is, in fact, responsible

for the Laurel Canyon murder,

which is why he committed suicide.

- Unnamed source.
- Yeah.

You got any ideas?

Who knows?

Tell you one thing... it's good for Irving.

Gets the press off his back.

How did closing arguments go?

Chandler's good.

- They are gonna find for you, Harry.
- Yeah, we'll see.

Ain't over till the fat lady sings.

Oh, speaking of fat ladies...

... have a cookie.

Lisa made them for Christmas.
Save me from myself.

I don't know where she learned to bake.

It certainly was not from me.

- How is your girl?
- Fine.

Have you been to see her yet?

Not since they moved back.

Harry,

Vegas is a four-hour drive.

I'm working a case.

You are always working a case.

When is the last time you saw Maddie?

Flew to Hong Kong for her 12th birthday.

Kids are a happy thing, Harry.

Even 14-year-old girls

who... take it from me...
are hell on their mothers.

Let some light into your life.

I mean, we couldn't take10
minutes, stop for a bite?

Here's a novel concept...

How 'bout you eat before you come to work?

I didn't have time.

Dolores called last-minute.

Had to drive over to her
place to pick up the kids...

- Mm...
- Take them to school. Yeah.

Ms. Delacroix? I'm Detective Bosch.

My partner, Detective Edgar.

Uh, come in.

Thank you.

Uh, May 4, 1994.

He had gone to school that
day and never came home.

I was 16.

Arthur was 12. Um, my father and I

thought he must have

run away because he took a

backpack with him with some clothes...

You know, t-shirts, jeans.

God, it got to be about
9:00, and he hadn't come home.

We went to look for him
and couldn't find him.

My father brought me home,

and he went to the police and

reported him missing.

Never heard anything back.

He just vanished off the face of the Earth.

All these years, I... I just keep

thinking, you know, one day, he'll just...

Turn up, all

grown up and happy...

It's...

always hardest around the holidays.

I'm sure.

What do you do for a living, Ms. Delacroix?

Um, I'm a casting director.

TV, mostly.

Do you have any pictures of Arthur?

Uh, yeah. That one.

That... that's us.

On the end,

that one is, uh, more close
to when he disappeared.

He's about 12 there.

These boys... do you know their names?

Oh, sorry. It's been a long time.

You know, they were his friends, not mine.

But I do have one more.

You mind if we take these?

Uh, yeah, if... if you bring them back.

We'll make copies.

Where did Arthur have his
surgery after the accident?

Uh, children's hospital.

We'd like to talk to your father.

Is he still around?

Samuel Delacroix.

He's in the valley.

Manchester trailer park.

What about your mother?

Oh, she left us when we were little.

Woke up one morning, she was gone.

You ever hear from her again?

Not a word.

But, uh, she left little
notes under our pillows

about how much she loved us

and how this was the best for
everyone and crap like that.

You still have the note?

I threw it out.

You think Arthur might have kept his?

I'm sure he did.

Pitiful how he hung
onto every scrap of her.

Your mother's name? Her maiden name?

Christine Dorsett.

I don't suppose you know where she is.

I don't even know if she's
alive, and I don't care.

What about a photo?

No, but...

I do have one of my father.

Oh.

His old head shot.

- He was an actor?
- Yeah.

Guest shots, mostly...

"Mannix," "Marcus Welby,"

"Rockford." He doesn't
look like that anymore.

Drinks.

This backpack was found at the burial site.

Sorry. Uh...

don't remember.

This was found in the backpack.

Uh, sh...

She gave this to him.

This was, like, his favorite treasure.

He took it with him everywhere.

He even slept with it.

Was it a souvenir from a family vacation?

No. Um, we didn't do things like that.

She probably got it at some dollar store.

My... god. It might really be him.

We don't know for sure yet.

If we get his medical records,

we can compare that to his remains.

These stairs...

Oh, yeah. Uh,

this is the home we grew up in.

So you've lived here your whole life?

Well, yeah. I was afraid if I moved, if...

Arthur came back...

He wouldn't know where to find me.

- Hey, Doc.
- Ah, Detective Bosch.

- Sorry I couldn't come to the station.
- That's okay.

You might find this interesting.

She was pulled from the
tar. 9,000 years old.

Look familiar?

- Blunt-force trauma.
- Uh-huh.

Not the only one.

We have a skull from another woman

killed around the same time with the same

stellate... star-shaped... fracture.

So there was a serial
killer in this neighborhood

- 9,000 years ago?
- It's quite possible.

I need you to look at this.

Belonged to a boy named Arthur Delacroix

who went missing in '94.

Well, let's compare it with
the Laurel Canyon skull.

The cranial surgeries...
pretty sure they're a match.

Sister said the injury came
from a skateboarding accident.

No, not likely. This is a
focused fracture pattern,

a small area with
surface-to-surface contact.

The location is high upon the cranium,

not in the back of the head,

which we normally associate with a fall.

So this injury, the one
that required surgery...

- It's the same kind of one that killed him?
- Yeah, exactly.

Deliberate, not accidental.

In both instances, this child was

struck with some force with a blunt object.

- You have a photo of the boy?
- Yeah.

The malar and the superciliary
ridge formations are consistent.

Meaning?

I think this is your victim.

DNA comparison with the
sister should confirm it.

You asked me before if I had faith.

I remember.

I told you I didn't. That wasn't the truth.

I do.

I have my own kind of faith.

Blue religion.

Arthur Delacroix's bones came
out of the ground for a reason.

They came out of the
ground for me to find them

so I can put some part of this right.

Thanks, Doc.

You're welcome, Harry.

Harry...

I checked missing persons from May of '94.

The boy's dad never filed a report.

Sheila Delacroix said he did.

Maybe he just told her he did.

What about Arthur's
mother... anything on her?

What?

You don't usually refer to
the victim by their first name.

Anyway,

she legally separated from
Samuel Delacroix in 1984.

Filed for a divorce.
Mental and physical cruelty.

Re-married in '89.

She is now Mrs. Christine
Waters, Palm Springs.

Bosch.

Ricochet wants to see you A.S.A.P.

Me? Why?

- I'm sure he'll tell you.
- Hey, Lise.

- Great cookies.
- Thanks, Harry.

What's going on?

We're going Christmas shopping.

Hopefully we'll still
be speaking to each other

by the end of the day.

Call me on my cell. Let
me know what O'Shea says.

How come the D.A. want
to see you and not me?

Who knows? Maybe I'm being indicted.

Detective Bosch, thank you for coming.

You know my chief deputy, Lou Escobar?

- We've met. Lou.
- Harry.

Have a seat, Detective.

Are you familiar with
the name Raynard Waits?

Yeah. But you should be
talking to Johnson and Moore.

They're handling that investigation.

Oh, this involves you, as well.

How so?

I hear you've tentatively identified

the Laurel Canyon victim.

His name was Arthur
Delacroix. He was 12 years old.

Waits confessed to killing him.

Confessed to my case?

Says it was his first.

With all due respect,

this guy gets popped with a body in his van

and, by coincidence, confesses
to a 20-year-old murder?

That's a big coincidence.

And I'm not buying it.

This case is all over the news.

This guy is running a game.

I don't know. Maybe he
just wants the attention.

He wants to make a deal.

Claims he buried several other
victims up in that canyon.

Says he'll tell us where

if we take the death penalty off the table.

Life without parole.

Don't do this. Do not make this deal.

Give him the needle and send him
down the hole where he belongs.

I don't love this either, Detective.

But he's offering to tell
us about all his victims.

We found at least seven DNA
profiles in Waits' van...

Six male, one female.

Now, this is an opportunity
to identify those victims,

- and to give closure to those families...
- Closure's a myth.

Well, that's for the families
to decide, isn't it, Detective?

Why am I here?

Interview Waits.

See if he's telling the
truth about killing this kid.

Johnson and Moore will
give you what they have.

We're all on the same team here, Detective.

Right.

Window-washing business since '94.

We pulled 1040s and receipts
out of that apartment on Selma

- where he's been living also since '94.
- Anything there?

Aside from the business
records, which look legit,

clean as a nun's bum.

Nobody's DNA and prints but his.

What about the victim's apartment?

Nada. Gutierrez shared
with two other rent boys.

They had a rule about not
bringing their work home.

Gutierrez was last seen
hustling down on La Jolla.

We got a wit who thinks
he may have seen him

getting into a gray-ish van

with a guy who more or less
might have been Waits, maybe.

Waits lives in Hollywood,
picks up Gutierrez in Hollywood,

but gets arrested in Echo Park.

I mean, if he's looking to dump the body,

Griffith Park's a lot closer.

So, where'd he live
before he lived on Selma?

That's the thing. We don't know.

There's nothing on Waits before '94

and he starts his business.

No school records, tax returns,
utility bills... nothing.

In '94, he applies for a
California driver's license.

That's the first time
he's on the grid anywhere.

Had to have a birth certificate
to get a driver's license.

And the one he gave the DMV

said he was born at Hollywood Pres,

but they have no record of it.

Not at the registrar's office, either.

There's no record of his
birth anywhere in the county.

So, the birth certificate's
a phony. So is the name.

Did you get the coroner's report?

Mnh-mnh. Hasn't come in yet.

Let's go over there.

Do you mind?

Hell no.

Ruben Gutierrez, Latino
male, 22 years of age.

Dead between four and eight hours

when the remains were discovered.

- Cause of death?
- He was strangled.

You see the petechiae?

And the ligature marks.

And the x-rays showed that
the hyoid bone was broken.

The suspect used a choke
hood with a drawstring, rope.

- And the victim was raped.
- DNA?

We're waiting for S.I.D.

to compare it to the suspect's profile.

About that rape...

"Anal penetration resulting
in multiple lacerations,

but no vital reaction."

- The sex was postmortem.
- Correct.

Necrophile.

Mm, and a brutal one.

There's evidence of sodomy

by the perpetrator and a
metallic foreign object.

Man.

Excuse me.

This is Bosch.

Chief.

Sit.

- Drink?
- No, thanks.

How'd it go with O'Shea?

Bet he handed you some teary-eyed bullshit

about giving closure to
the victims' families.

He did use the "C" word, yeah.

Well...

Let the healing begin.

O'Shea's planning a run for mayor,

so this Waits case... pure
political Viagra for him.

He'll get credit for clearing
these serial killings.

And if he clears your bones case, too,

he puts Trent's suicide on us.

Yeah, well...

too bad an unnamed source put Trent
out there as the primary suspect.

We're looking into that leak.

O'Shea's always had it
in for the department.

And if he's elected,

he'll give the I.G. and the
police commission even more power.

We'll be under the microscope
24/7. Fucking disaster.

You don't agree, Detective?

Politics. Above my pay grade, Chief.

You think Waits is telling the truth...

About killing the boy?

If he is, Arthur Delacroix

is the unluckiest kid that ever lived.

Beaten like a drum every day of his life,

then done in by some stray serial killer?

What are the chances?

- And why would Waits lie?
- I don't know.

I do know he's a lying
sack of shit by nature,

so the odds that he's lying about this

are pretty good, I'd say.

Well...

It'd be in both our interests if he were.

So when you talk to Waits,

see if you can't blow some
holes in his confession.

Old house. The porch creaks.

Just gonna stand out there all night?

Look, I'm sorry.

Uh, the other night, I said
some things I shouldn't have.

Me, too.

I don't do so good with criticism.

I was just worried about you,

- and it came out wrong.
- I know.

And you were right. I was stupid.

I didn't say that.

Reckless.

That, I said.

Are we good?

We're good.

Hate to tell you, Harry, these scars...

You'll never bean underwear model.

Yeah, have to give up that dream.

Kind of sexy, though.

You gonna tell me the
story of these or not?

It was a tattoo. Had it removed.

You're a master storyteller. Spellbinding.

What was the tattoo?

"Hold fast."

"Hold fast"?

H-o-l-d on one hand,

f-a-s-t on the other.

What about this?

I got shot.

God, it's like pulling teeth.

Okay, I was chasing some guys.

What guys?

Bank robbers.

See?

Good detail makes for a good tale.

So, what happened?

I went after them into
this drainage tunnel.

It was pitch black.

Couldn't tell exactly where they were.

One of them shot me.

- Did you get them?
- I got the one that shot me.

Good for you.

I got lucky.

No permanent damage.

It aches in the winter when
it rains. That's about it.

What did it feel like...

Getting shot?

Well, it burned like hell.

Everything kind of went numb.

How long were you down?

Three months. Light duty.

I hope they gave you a medal.

Yeah, they did.

You're a hero.

Julia, none of that shit matters.

You just try and do
your job, and that's it.

If you say so.

- Shit.
- What?

Nothing. You don't care.

Couple from Coeur d'Alene

I was gonna show some rental
properties to Saturday...

But they got to fly back today.

You're right. I don't care.

I got a bigger nut than you.

You don't know how easy you've got it.

Irving says O'shea's grandstanding

on this Waits thing 'cause
he's running for mayor.

Puts down a serial killer,
helps him win the election.

O'Shea's elected mayor,
Irving never makes chief.

Mm-hmm.

Never knew you had such a
nose for politics, Jerry.

Fuck you, Harry.

Your full name, birth
date, and place of birth?

Raynard Waits. No middle name.

Born November 3, 1971,

- in the City of Angels.
- You mean Los Angeles.

Los Angeles.

You know, Detective Bosch, you
and I met before, years ago.

I doubt that.

Yeah. You... you were a patrolman.

And you gave me a ticket.

I... I was making a right turn,

and... and I rolled the stop sign.

Y... you didn't know it, but...

I had a body in the van that day, too.

It was a close call.

But you did teach me a valuable lesson...

Mind the little things.

Your attorney's proffer suggests

the first homicide you committed

was Arthur Delacroix in May of '94.

Yeah. I didn't know his name at the time,

but, yes, he was my first.

Well, you never forget your first.

Know what I mean?

Hmph.

Why doesn't he let you ask any questions?

- A... are you just the sidekick?
- Fuck off.

Tell us about the day you
killed Arthur Delacroix.

Well, I... I saw him on the street.

I was driving down Hollywood Boulevard.

It's... it's changed a
lot since then, Hollywood.

They... they hadn't built
the Kodak theater yet

- or fucked up Grauman's Chinese...
- Had you seen him before?

Detective Bosch...

I just

want to say I really admire you.

- Please, just answer the questions, Mr. Waits.
- No, no, I do.

You know, for you to rise above

the circumstances of your childhood

and become a police
officer, I mean, that's...

That's a real achievement.

I like to think I've done the same.

Why'd you pick Arthur Delacroix?

Um, well...

He was

smaller than the rest of the kids
that were hanging out on that corner,

and, uh, he seemed like he
wouldn't be that hard to manage.

I told him I would take him to
the movies. He got in the van.

I doubt that would happen these days.

Kids today are a lot more cautious.

What happened after you got him in the van?

I took him to my special place.

Your special place. Where's that?

East L.A., down by the Los Angeles river.

I took them all there. First
there, then up the canyon.

What makes it "special"?

Oh, he speaks.

I can't explain it.

You... you have to see it to understand.

And after that, what happened
at your "special place"?

I killed him.

- Did you rape him?
- No.

- I'm not a pedophile.
- How'd you kill him?

I strangled him.

No.

I'm sorry.

That was later, after
I perfected my approach.

Yeah. It was a long time ago.

I thought you never forget your first.

It'll come to me.

And after you killed him?

Well, I took the body, put it in my van,

drove up to Laurel Canyon, and I buried it.

Oh, I'm taking you up there, right?

- The way this is going, I'd say no.
- Aw.

Why?

Why not? I... I'm trying to be helpful.

The detectives need
specific details, Mr. Waits.

Oh, uh, ask something specific.

Arthur Delacroix had a yo-yo with him.

What color was it?

- A yo-yo?
- Yeah. What color was it?

Mm...

- I don't remember.
- You don't remember the yo-yo,

or you don't remember what color it was?

I'm sorry. I... I... I
don't remember the yo-yo.

You didn't kill Arthur Delacroix.

Yes, I did.

But you just don't remember how?

I'm too old a cat to be fucked by a kitten.

That's my number.

You think of something
that wasn't in the papers,

you give me a call.

I do remember one thing.

He had a starfish...

in his backpack. A plastic starfish,

like a souvenir, you know?

Shit.

You got a smoke?

Yeah.

Here you go.

- Thanks.
- Yep.

Harry, that story,

you giving him a ticket... Think it's true?

Shit.

I haven't been in a
black-and-white in 22 years.

Nothing out of that
shitbird's mouth is true,

including his name.

He confessed to, what, eight so far?

We'll never know how many others he's done.

You can profile these serial
motherfuckers till kingdom come...

You're never gonna get inside their heads.

Crazy's crazy.

I don't disagree.

He knew about the starfish.

That, I can't figure.

You asked Waits for proof.

He gave it to you. Smoking gun, man.

I don't buy it.

I don't know his angle,
but I'm not buying it.

He didn't kill that Delacroix child.

Okay.

But what if he did?