[Chapter 21: When in Doubt, First Sacrifice a Star]
In West Hollywood, at the Los Angeles Museum of Art, a charity art auction had just concluded. Dressed to the nines, Melissa Ackerman exited with a smile. She was the beloved daughter of Buddy Ackerman and the CEO of Ackerman Films.
Robert Downey Jr. hurried to catch up with Melissa, softly saying, "About that project Gothika, there's a character that fits--"
"That's a Sony and Warner project. I'm only involved as a co-investor," Melissa interrupted, stopping to face him. She then asked, "Are you really off drugs?"
Downey replied earnestly, "I swear!"
Melissa's gaze turned icy. "If your addictions cost the company, I'll make sure you eat it until full."
Downey instinctively took a step back, afraid to say more.
Melissa turned and left with elegance.
After a few minutes, Downey finally exited the museum, got into his car, and thought about Melissa's words and stare. Anxiety churned in his stomach, prompting him to pull out a plastic bag and indulge in a little pick-me-up to settle his nerves.
Once he steadied himself, he drove to the Viper Room on Sunset Boulevard, where the night was still young.
.....
Meanwhile, Melissa waited for a moment before her driver pulled up, allowing Barack Bernanke to enter the Rolls-Royce Phantom.
As the car started, the soundproof partition rose.
Melissa directly asked, "Still no word on him?"
"The snow that day covered too many traces," Barack replied, reiterating his previous statements. "The local police can't keep pouring resources into this case indefinitely. You know their homicide clearance rate. The case is already cold."
What Melissa wanted to hear wasn't that.
Barack continued, "We've expanded our search area and found some leads in the northern small town of Highland. A supermarket owner claimed to have seen someone similar, but we couldn't locate his car or find him listed at any motels or hotels. The trail went cold near Highland."
"Is that all?" Melissa's tone was flat.
Barack added, "I hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency under the guise of an overseas foundation to continue the search."
Melissa instructed, "If you find him, keep it quiet. We need to maintain control."
Barack wanted to ask why but wisely kept quiet.
Melissa thought of her father, realizing she too needed to prepare for any unforeseen circumstances.
.....
In East Hollywood, on Fountain Street, a used Mondeo parked in front of a house. Hawke Osment shouldered a camera bag, held a takeout dinner in one hand, and a tabloid in the other as he approached the house.
Nearby, a fat old man rummaged through a trash bin. Spotting the stack of newspapers Hawke carried, he said, "Hey, buddy, I can help you get rid of those old newspapers."
Hawke recognized him as the guy who had flipped him off earlier in the day and considered giving him the middle finger right back, but his hands were full.
"I'll do it for you!" Frank declared, giving himself the middle finger, then shoving it into his mouth, licking his blackened lips after. "You feeling good now? Can I have it?"
Hawke marveled at his audacity and casually replied, "Not right now, let's talk tomorrow."
"Deal!" Frank wiped his mouth and swayed toward the park's parking lot across the street.
Hawke entered his house and took a moment to check the window.
The old man headed toward a trailer; it seemed he lived there.
...
After dinner, Hawke searched for news about Downey online, jotting down the locations mentioned. He flipped through the tabloids, isolating the sections about Downey and noting the names on the same sheet of paper.
He compiled the most frequently mentioned places, which turned out to be four locations: Brentwood, Tracy's Gym, the Viper Room, and Eric Oram's boxing gym.
Hawke had just visited the first two with no success. The Viper Room, located on Sunset Boulevard, was owned by Johnny Depp and had become one of the hottest night spots for entertainment and sports stars alike.
The last place led him to a blog post after searching for both Downey and the boxing gym on Google. Someone claimed to be Eric's student and mentioned that Robert Downey Jr. had approached Eric Oram to learn Wing Chun.
In the related section of the blog, he stumbled upon a name: Sarah Parker.
This woman had a history with Downey before marrying Broderick.
Hawke shook his head but soon reminded himself that this was Hollywood -- where stars, no matter their gender, often had dozens of former flames.
After confirming his agenda for the next day, Hawke burned the paper containing the names, turning it to ashes.
He also put the tabloids back in place, focusing on the four biggest gossip magazines: The National Enquirer, US Weekly, Star Magazine, and Hollywood Life.
Each contained hotlines for tips and submissions.
Hawke's camera and camcorder were not just for capturing Downey; they were also a way to make money.
It was common knowledge that once a scandal erupted, the first move was to take down an entertainment star to redirect attention.
For Hawke, celebrity stories were widely appealing, lucrative, and low-risk, all while not conflicting with his plan to track down Downey.
He saved all of the newspapers' contact info into his phone.
...
The next morning, Hawke woke up on time, went for a run in the park across the street, and picked up some breakfast. On his way back, he noticed the fat old man sitting by the road, hat out for a few coins.
Occasionally, passersby dropped some change into it.
After eating breakfast at home, he grabbed his gear bag, took a hefty stack of newspapers, and headed out to place the useless papers by the old man's side.
Frank picked up the newspapers and said, "Thanks."
Hawke didn't want to say much, just nodded and left.
Frank thumbed through the papers then looking at Hawke's bag, asked, "So are you a reporter? Freelance? Or just starting out?"
Hawke paused and looked toward the old man.
Frank, showing off a bit, said, "New in town, carrying a camera bag, buying a bunch of tabloids -- just too easy to guess." He chuckled, "There are a lot of people doing this in LA, and most of them are finished."
Hawke thought for a second and played along. "Got any advice?"
Frank waved the newspaper and, seemingly determined by the chance to make a few bucks, replied, "Get a big scoop, sell it to Channel 11. They just got bought by Fox News and can pay top dollar."
Hawke made a note of that before getting into his car and leaving.
Not long after, the Mondeo rolled into North Hollywood, parking along Victory Boulevard.
Nearby, Eric Oram's boxing gym sported a bilingual sign.
Hawke entered the gym, and someone immediately approached to assist him. When they learned he wanted to learn Wing Chun, they led him to an exhibition room to admire the photos of celebrities hanging on the walls, all while pushing the gym's courses.
In the exhibition room, Hawke saw photos of Bruce Lee and Ip Man, alongside Eric with his teacher, William Cheung.
However, there were only a few Hollywood stars in the mix.
This gym was yet to make a real name for itself.
Hawke requested a price list and private lesson schedule before leaving the gym.
Learning martial arts wasn't feasible; the fees were even higher than at Tracy's Gym.
Standing by the roadside, he surveyed the area then crossed the street toward the convenience store across from the gym.
Behind the counter stood a white woman in her thirties, and a mixed-race black guy was stocking shelves nearby.
As he was browsing, the man in the aisle moved some items out of storage.
The woman dashed over, lowering her voice, "For heaven's sake, Edward, don't you think? These were for a delivery; you can't just sell them."
The man retorted, "If they weren't for sale, why'd you put them in storage? So it's your fault."
The woman got annoyed. "Does your brain work? Or did you spray your brain out last night? Move it back now."
Reluctantly, Edward moved the items back.
Hawke observed that the man was bringing out fireworks.
In California, selling or using dangerous fireworks without a permit was illegal.
Of course, too many ignored this rule.
Hawke pretended not to notice and when he checked out, handed the woman a business card. "I'm a reporter and I've heard that stars often visit the boxing gym across. If you spot anyone, give me a call; there's cash in it for you."
The woman accepted it and placed it on the counter before imitating him, handing Hawke a store card and a product flyer: "We provide delivery services, and if the total is over $25, I can send someone to deliver it, but tips and delivery fees are extra."
Edward chimed in, "I'm your boyfriend, not an employee!"
Hawke stuffed the card and flyer into his pocket before heading out to distribute the rest of his cards elsewhere.
*****
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