The Wolf of Los Angeles

Chapter 32 Gossip Scandal

Santa Monica, an apartment building facing the street, Hawk, wearing a wig and bearded, opened the curtains.

The house is located on the fourth floor, with two windows open to the south and east, and there are street light poles over nine meters high under the window.

At such a height, most people cannot climb up, and Hawke can escape through the window at any time.

Hawke took out an envelope and placed the photo on the table in a circle, with Robert Downey Jr. in the center point.

The ones around Donny are Donny's current wife Deborah, and Donny's agent and playmate.

Hawke took out a pen and marked the pictures of Deborah and two playmates.

Deborah would become an emotional stimulus that night because of Edward's thoughts.

Other aspects, Hawke needs to have more information on Donny.

The people around Donnie are the key.

For Hollywood stars, playmates are closer than their wives. The two playmates that Hawke circled are the ones who appear most around Donnie in the photos he took and related online reports.

One fat man and the other bald.

Hawke couldn't find much information about the two people on the Internet. He packed his room, went downstairs to Ingwood on the old subway, and found a private detective agency.

The kind who specializes in tracking and secretly filming couples cheating.

Using the East Coast accent to talk briefly, Hawke took out the photo of the fat man and bald, gave $1,000 in cash as a prepayment, leaving a new mobile phone number for contact.

The playmate won't follow Donny 24 hours a day, and Hawke wants to know what the two are doing at other times.

Before noon, Hawke returned to his original appearance, returned home, and bought a copy of the National Inquiry.

Eddie Murphy's news is the front page headline today.

Hawke named it "Shuo Mai Family".

Not long after, Edward came back.

As soon as he saw Hawke, he shouted excitedly: "Boss, listen to me first, listen to me! I really want you to be right. It is also my opportunity to develop a news informant."

Hawke gave emotional recognition and asked, "Have you met someone you like?"

Edward pulled a chair over and sat opposite Hawk: "On the other side of Highland Street, a divorced woman in her 30s, raising two children alone is so tired!"

He was sympathetic: "I decided to help her well and not let her suffer."

"It's really tiring to take care of two children by one person."

"Boss, when will you get the special correspondent certificate you mentioned last time?" Edward obviously had an idea: "I have taken the first step to success. When I sent my business card, I had to get her contact information, but I was too quick-talking , tell her I am a reporter..."

Hawke understood and said, "I'll have to wait a few days."

Edward was very anxious: "Can you call and urge me? When I asked her, a reporter's ID would be much more reliable."

Hawke accurately grasped it: "It depends on your performance."

Edward asked, “Is there anything I need to do?”

"Clean the first floor." Hawke said, "

Edward was particularly motivated and went to get the tools immediately.

At this moment someone knocked on the door outside and Hawke opened it.

Frank, the old RV man, raised the cans of beer and a paper bag in his hand: "I said I'll invite you to drink, so I can't lose my word."

Hawke let out the door: "Please come in."

When Edward heard the movement, he ran out and exclaimed, "I have free beer at noon!"

When he got to Frank's level, he had no taboos. He snorted disdain and asked, "Do you want to serve fried chicken?"

Edward, who had mixed up with the chaotic and poor Compton, had a thicker face than the city wall, and said, "I'll eat when you treat me."

Frank put down his beer and literally took the fried chicken out of the paper bag.

"I also have sausages, canned beef and sandwiches." Hawke went to the refrigerator to get it.

Frank looked at Edward: "Where are you, just bringing a mouth?" Edward was angry: "Hey, old man, don't think I don't know you. Aren't you the one who picked up the can on this street? I'll get some free tomorrow The jar is filled with **** and throw it into all the trash cans on this street, and see how you pick it up in the future!”

Frank said tit-for-tat: "It's okay, at worst, you can go pick up cotton." He also shouted to Hawk, "Man, do you have watermelons? I want to eat watermelons."

Hawke came over with the food and said, "Shut up, I'll drive you all out, the old man goes to pick cotton, and Edward goes to pick jars."

The two finally closed their mouths and sat at the dining table.

Frank was unforgivable and still gave Edward a can of beer.

Edward had no hesitation when he ate fried chicken.

Frank looked at the camera and camera one by one and asked curiously: "Tonight's Oscar, aren't you going out for news?"

"The Oscars ceremony only started at 5 pm. Those celebrities, now more honest than the other, are preparing for the award ceremony." Hawke picked up the beer can, took a sip, and said, "What the audience wants to see will be presented to the mainstream media in the market. In front of them, we can't rob the guys who are backed by big media."

He pointed to the window: "When it's dark and the award ceremony is over, they get excited after drinking too much, which is the time for free reporters."

Frank nodded: "That's right, those guys who are fame and fortune are all very inflated. They drink too much and think they are God."

No mistakes, one song, one content, one in 6, one book, one bar, one reading!

Hawke asked, "You know a lot?"

Frank drank the remaining beer in the jar and opened another one, as if recalling: “The gentle stars, directors and producers in front of the public and the media are all **** in private, they are all reduced versions of Washington politicians. , under the bright and beautiful coat, it is so dirty."

Hawke could only understand this circle through online gossip in his previous life. Now he has few contacts and found that the gossip scandals on the Internet are too conservative.

What actually happens far exceeds the boldest gossip on the Internet.

Eric Ethan was right. If you want to hug your thighs, you must kneel down and move your mouth.

Lucky, the thigh is a woman.

The unlucky guy may be more exaggerated than George. Not only men, but also black people and perverts.

Edward threw away the bones of fried chicken and sneered, "How could a beggar who picks up jars understand these?"

Frank vaguely said: "Because I was one of them and did a lot of overdoing things."

"Bah!" Edward raised his voice: "I also said that my ancestors had never planted cotton!"

Hawke asked curiously, "You're now?"

"I used to be too inflated and felt that I could do anything." Frank did not say in detail, vaguely: "I messed up a few projects, and I don't want my ex-wife to take my money and keep other men..."

Edward had a deep understanding of this: "Those men live in the house you provide to your ex-wife, spend your child support, and can bully your children if you have nothing to do."

The more he said, he became more and more heartbroken: "I am in a state of interest. I took out your wedding photos and hung them on the bedside to do business. It's so exciting!"

These words were really heart-wrenching, and Frank glared at him, but could not say a refutation.

Because this is infinitely close to the facts.

Fearing that Frank was lying here to meet God, Hawke kicked Edward under his feet and stuffed the beer in front of the old man: "Drink, drink."

Edward restrained a little, "Aren't you bragging? It won't be true."

Frank couldn't drink the drink, so he stood up and said, "I'll go back and rest, and drink it some more next day."

Hawke went to give it away.

But Edward muttered to himself: "This bad guy has really been brilliant? Or is it an ex-wife? No, I want to make friends with him and get information about his ex-wife."

As night fell, the Oscars opened.

Hawke drove into the car and pulled Edward into the Hollywood area.

But he did not go to the Kodak Theater, where media reporters gathered in groups and found a place to pee, and he could pee a few reporters.

After a while, Hawke only took some photos with negligible value.

Near 10 o'clock in the evening, the distributor finally played a role.

On the south side of Highland Street, close to Santa Monica Avenue, someone called.

(End of this chapter)