by Doug Cooper
Despite being taped to the chair and in no position to negotiate, the guy asks, “What’s it worth to you?”
Levi scoffs, shaking his head. “You don’t really have much leverage, do you?” He pulls at the tape securing the guy’s legs. “I mean, you were trespassing on private property. I can say I felt threatened and was protecting myself. Not to mention, a minute ago you were pleading for me to let you go. Now you’re trying to capitalize on it? Probably want to rethink that approach.”
“But that was before I knew you wanted something,” the guy says. “With the way things have been lately, you can hardly afford any more bad publicity. I think five thousand should cover it for me.” He waits for a reaction, but one doesn’t come. “And I get to keep whatever I sell the video for.”
Levi removes a folding hunter knife from his pocket and puts the tip of the blade underneath the guy’s left earlobe. He presses the knife up to the bottom of the ear and flicks his wrist forward, slicing the soft, pendulous tissue. It dangles from the bottom of his ear, flapping as the guy writhes and screams. Levi says, “If you fuck me on this or ask for more, I’ll find you and take the rest of your ear.” He wipes the blood from the blade onto the guy’s cheek. “And peel the skin off you.” He drags the point of the knife along his captive’s jawline, across the chin, and up the other side.
Fear floods the guy’s face. “I promise. I promise. Just pay me and let me go. I swear you’ll never hear from me again.”
Levi withdrawals the knife, rotating it in his hand at his side. He watches the sun slip below the horizon. Streaks of light stream across the pool but do not reach him. Shadows creep in from all sides. Looking back at the photographer, he lowers the knife to his neck. Blood streams from the earlobe Levi already carved. Levi says, “Somehow I don’t believe you. No matter what I do, you’re going to want more. Everyone always wants more.”
“That’s not true. I don’t even need the money.” Tears stream from the guy’s eyes back to his ears, mixing with the blood on the one side. “Delete the video. Whatever. I don’t care. Just let me leave. I won’t say anything.”
“Everyone always wants more,” Levi says, repeating himself. He presses the knife harder to the guy’s neck. Blood oozes on each side of the blade. The guy begs for Levi to stop. In a single quick motion, Levi slides the knife across the guy’s throat. The pleading changes to gasping then gurgling as the blood drains into his windpipe. Levi returns the knife to his side, watching the life leave his defenseless victim. “Everyone always wants more.”
◆◆◆
Eva sits at the desk in her office. Through the window, traffic crawls along the 405 with Santa Monica and Pacific Palisades coming to life. The financial returns from Wrongside Right listed by each box office populate a spreadsheet on her computer screen. Her face winces and contorts as she reviews the numbers line by line.
Levi breezes in and flops onto the L-shaped leather sofa wedged in the corner. Other than a bruise on his right hand, all signs of his altercation the night before with the photographer at his house are gone. He had lugged the body back into his house and stored it in an empty freezer in the garage. He burned his clothes in the fire pit while he bathed in the hot tub then sprayed down the concrete and scrubbed it with bleach. “You disappeared early the other night,” he says, referring to the premiere.
Her eyes remain on the screen, searching for some sliver of positive news. “That’s because you haven’t been too interested in my help lately.”
“Still would’ve been nice if my agent supported me.” Levi lifts his legs onto the glass table.
The comment draws a glare from Eva. Her eyes return to the screen. “Don’t even try to make this about me.”
Levi sinks lower into the couch. “So how bad is it?”
“I’ve been on the phone since before six this morning with distributors. That should tell you something.” Eva swivels in the chair toward Levi and pushes back from the desk. “Didn’t make the top five and cleared only three point eight million dollars.”
Levi says, “Looks like Wrongside Right was more wrong than right. But it’ll pick up. Just needs some time.”
“I don’t know. It’s not looking good. You’re not helping matters with stunts like the paintball attack yesterday.”
“Come on. That was just a joke,” Levi says. “Did you see the video? All those paparazzi running around snapping pictures of each other. Fucking priceless. Already has over a million views.”
“Too bad your movie hasn’t.”
“Aren’t you just fucking hilarious this morning?” Levi says with an exaggerated smile, playing off her dig as humor. “We’ve had shaky openings before. We’ll bounce back in the coming weeks. You said the early reviews were strong. Once they post and more people see the film, things will turn around.”
“Doubtful. Most of those reviews are not being published or have been changed. There’s more clicks in Levi-bashing than support, and it appears no one wants to sit through two hours of seeing your face. We’re not even going to get a few weeks. Due to the poor performance, they’re reducing the number of screens by fifty percent nationwide.”
Levi drops his feet to the floor and springs up, marching toward Eva. “What? You can’t let that happen. We’ll have no chance to get my fucking money back.”
“Not much I can do,” Eva says, composed and measured. “It’s a distribution decision. They want to put a product on screens that has the best chance of selling.
Levi pivots and paces in the middle of the room. “I can’t believe this. We should never even be in this situation.”
His panic has the opposite effect on Eva. She settles back into her chair. Seeing Levi unravel puts her back in control. She says, “Now you know why I was harping about the importance of the past few weeks.”
Levi says, “So what’s next? I want to get back to work. I need to be busy right now.”
“You’re going to have to lie low for a while,” Eva says, “The whole strategy to drive up the asking price for your next role was built on winning the Oscar and a strong opening for the new film. Right now you are toxic. No one wants to put their money in anything to do with you. Fortunately for us, this town has a short memory. Eventually it’ll blow over. We just have to find the right role…and you have to stop fucking up.”
Levi stops in front of the desk, leaning forward, propped up by his arms. “But I’m going broke. I put most of my liquidity into the film and have lost pretty much all of my endorsement contracts.”
“Levi, it’s going to take time. We have to totally rebuild your image.”
“What the fuck have you done to me?” Levi swipes his arm across the desk, knocking the outbox full of papers onto the floor.
Eva rises to confront him. “What have I done? I had everything set. All you had to do was show up. You were the one that had to have Emily James and to make it worse, retaliate with all your childish bullshit.”
Eva’s assistant Joelle appears in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Not now,” Eva says.
“But someone—”
Levi spins around. “What part of not now don’t you understand, you stupid bitch?”
Marcus Ambrose steps around Joelle and into the office. “What I think your assistant is trying to tell you is that someone from the DA’s office is here to see you.”
Marcus walks up to the desk and presents a search warrant. “It’s come to our attention that you’re in possession of additional photos that were not published.”
Eva reviews the warrant. “I think you received some bad information.”
Marcus waves in two more people carrying empty boxes to begin the search. “Ms. Florez, I think you’ll see that the warrant you hold entitles us to anything in this office that may contain those pictures including your computer. Do you really want to shut down your entire operation for some
thing we’ll eventually find anyway?”
Levi walks up to Marcus. “This is ridiculous. Talk to Emily James. She’ll tell you nothing illegal happened.” Levi studies Marcus’ face. He looks familiar but Levi can’t place why. Marcus has grown a full foot since the last time they saw each other and now looks down on Levi.
Straightening his body, Marcus says, “Mr. Combs, we’re obligated by California law to investigate any alleged sexual misconduct with a minor regardless of if there is a complaint or not.” Marcus, feeling Levi’s scrutiny, turns away and addresses the evidence collectors. “Let’s start here. Just pack everything up.”
One of the evidence collectors moves to the other side of the desk next to Eva. She stands and drifts toward the windows.
Levi walks over to Marcus. “You’re the DA on this case? Have we met before? Maybe at a charity function or some event?”
“Deputy Ambrose,” Marcus says, purposefully avoiding using his first name. “No, we haven’t. Only Ms. Florez and I have met. I paid her a visit earlier in the week.” He circles around Levi toward the desk. The evidence collector opens the desk drawers and dumps the contents into one of the boxes. The other collector sits in the desk chair and slides up to the laptop.
Eva steps forward from the windows. “Wait. This isn’t necessary.” She leans over the evidence collector at the computer and opens a folder on the screen. “All the pictures are in here.” She highlights a list of twenty files.
Levi fires across the room at her. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Eva says, “If they take the computer, they’ll have them anyway.”
Marcus walks behind the desk. “You don’t mind if we have a look just to be sure?”
Eva steps away. The evidence collector opens the files. Pictures of Levi and Emily cascade across the screen. One by one they review the images. Intermixed with the shots sold by Abbie to Forbidden Fotos are more revealing ones. There’s the top of Emily’s head rising out of the water directly in front of Levi standing in the creek with the waterline just below his pubic hair but concealing everything below. In another shot, she slides down his chest, her naked body visible from the mid-thigh up. Each picture is more compromising than the one before. The evidence collector inserts a memory card and copies the files.
“These seem to fill in the blanks from that afternoon.” Marcus takes control of the mouse and ejects the flash card.
The evidence collector stops cleaning out the desk. “Leave everything else?”
Marcus nods, padding back toward the center of the room. “Yes. Our work is done here.”
The evidence collector dumps the contents of the box he had been filling onto the floor and walks toward the door. The other collector seated at the computer rises and follows.
Marcus holds up the memory card. “Gotta love the digital age. All the info you need at the tips of your fingers. Makes these searches so much easier.” He struts across the room, stopping in the doorway and turning back around. “Thanks so much for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch.”
Levi walks to the door, watching Marcus disappear into the reception area and out into the hallway. He spins back around, exploding toward Eva. “What in the fuck is wrong with you? He was here earlier in the week and you still have those pictures? Why didn’t you get rid of them?”
Eva says, “No one other than you, me, and Emily and her people knew we were getting them.”
Levi swipes his arm in disgust at her. “And that fucking photographer.”
“Stop blaming everything on him,” Eva says. “He wants this all to go away as much as we do.”
“And you believe him?” Levi returns to pacing. “Maybe the DA put the squeeze on. Maybe that guy is playing you.”
Eva sits back down in her chair. “Listen, you’re lucky they left with just the flash drive. Who knows what they would’ve found in this office that I covered up for you over the years?”
Levi stops in front of the desk, pointing at Eva with the full force of his arm. “This—you—your incompetence is inexcusable.”
Eva is unaffected by his emotion. She leans back in her chair, speaking from behind a cold stare. “Don’t you think it’s time you take some responsibility for your actions?”
Levi says, “I think you did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Why would I want to sabotage your career?” Eva asks. “I’ve spent ten years of my life building it.”
The words tumble out of Levi, one by one formulating his conspiracy theory. “You always did want our relationship to be more personal.”
Eva shakes her head. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Why didn’t I see this coming?” Levi says to himself. “You probably had that photographer follow me out to the waterfall. If you couldn’t have me, you were going to destroy me.”
“Will you just stop and listen to yourself?” Eva says. “All I’ve ever done is work my ass off to help you. Everything you have is because of me.”
“And then this DA Anders—what was his name again?”
“Ambrose,” Eva says. “Marcus Ambrose.”
“God, that sounds familiar. Are you sure we haven’t had any dealings with him before? I swear I know him.”
“I haven’t, other than the morning after the Oscars, when he showed up here. I told him to talk to our lawyers if he had any other questions.”
The reminder that Marcus had already been here shifts Levi’s attention back to Eva. “And you didn’t think to tell me or get rid of the pictures or at least move them some-place safe?”
“What are you talking about? I know it’s hard for you to see past yourself, but all I’ve been doing lately is cleaning up your messes.”
Levi doesn’t hear her response, falling further into his paranoia. “You wanted this to happen. You want me to lose everything so I need you again. Must’ve been hard watching me go for everyone else but you.”
Her voice rises above his for the first time. “You are a complete fucking lunatic! You know that? The only thing that has been hard is watching your inflated ego destroy everything.”
Levi takes a deep breath, nodding slowly on the exhale, finding calm in her choler. “You know, I think it’s time for me to find someone who actually wants what’s best for me.”
Eva, still seated in her chair, just shakes her head. “So I’m to blame for all your problems, and your solution is to fire me? That’s just brilliant.”
“Effective immediately,” Levi says.
“You know, that’s fine with me.” Eva rises and walks toward the door. “I’m tired of wasting my time on you.”
Finally seeing some stress on Eva supplies the satisfaction he was seeking. “I should’ve done this years ago. You were nothing when I met you.”
“And you’re nothing now.” Eva flings open the door. “Get the hell out.”
Levi struts toward the door, stopping next to her. “Let’s see how well you do when everyone learns how you sabotaged your biggest client.” He turns and walks out. Eva slams the door behind him.
Chapter 19
Gabe trudges up the Temple Street steps, craning his neck at the imposing Hall of Justice. The terra cotta cornice with ox skulls and acanthus leaves crown the matching granite sides. Bugsy Siegel, Robert Mitchum, Charles Manson, and Sirhan Sirhan were all housed here after their arrests. The autopsies of Marilyn Monroe and Robert Kennedy were also performed inside. And now Gabe plans to add to that history by becoming a witness against Levi Combs.
In the grand lobby, Gabe breezes past the ionic marble columns under the gilded, coffered ceiling to wait for the elevator up to the sex crimes division on the ninth floor. Stepping off the elevator, he approaches the young, red-haired, bespectacled male receptionist.
“May I help you?” the receptionist asks. His appearance and meek voice seem out of place in the ornate, intimidating setting.<
br />
“Is Marcus Ambrose in?” Gabe asks, looking around, trying to find comfort in the setting, and with what he is about to do. But after what Levi did to him at the gallery, he knows something must be done. He wanted to stay out of it, but Levi brought this on himself. Levi was the one who had sex with a seventeen-year-old, who hired someone to assault and rob him, and who took his gallery show from him. Levi deserves whatever happens to him.
The receptionist picks up the phone. “And your name?
“Gabe Adams. It’s about Levi Combs.” Gabe drifts back toward the wall, examining a framed black and white photograph of the building’s construction in 1924.
The receptionist dials, lifting his hand to conceal his words when someone answers. Lowering the phone, the receptionist speaks louder to Gabe. “He’ll be right out.”
Gabe turns around, nodding at the information, as he bounces nervously on his toes.
Moments later, Marcus emerges through the glass door behind the receptionist. “Gabe, what a nice surprise. You should’ve called. I would’ve come to you.”
“Not a problem,” Gabe says, curling around the reception desk. “Didn’t want to wait. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
Marcus waves his arm back in the direction from which he came. “Absolutely. Let’s grab a conference room.” He leads Gabe back through the door into the office. They walk through the open floor plan area filled with workers paired in twos facing one another with their heads down at their desks. Marcus walks to a glass-enclosed conference room and opens the door, gesturing for Gabe to sit. He takes a yellow legal pad from a stack on the table and a pen from the breast pocket of his navy suit jacket and fills the seat on the opposite side of the table. “What brings you in?”
Gabe folds his hands in front of him and straightens his back, summoning the courage to follow through. He clears his throat, then speaks. “I’ve changed my mind about testifying.”