Chapitre 829: Chapter 829: Evidence!
Promises in Hollywood are as fleeting as shooting stars. Countless commitments are made by the industry's elite, only to be denied once they've secured what they sought. Harvey Weinstein's notoriety stands as a glaring example among many.
Conversely, Martin, despite his unsavory reputation as a lecherous scumbag, is an anomaly in Hollywood. He keeps his promises, a rare trait in an industry rife with betrayal.
The information extracted from Charlotte Kirk was scant. Nevertheless, the crew demanded an explanation from Martin.
That afternoon, Charles Rowan, adhering to routine, informed Charlotte Kirk's agent and agency that she was to be removed from the project. The following day, this decision was publicly announced during a routine press conference.
An actress had been caught trying to take secret photos in a trailer, a move that had severely damaged her career prospects. Now, finding work through conventional channels seemed near impossible for her.
Charlotte Kirk departed the crew, her spirits crushed. In the hotel lobby, Bruce watched her get into a taxi and quickly made a phone call. As the taxi pulled away, a second car discreetly followed.
Martin descended to meet Bruce, and together they climbed into an Escalade. They left Peachtree Street, heading towards the Beast's House on West Avenue. As Bruce drove, he remarked, "Charlotte Kirk is leaving Atlanta today."
Martin, his expression unreadable, replied, "Have someone follow her and report back."
At a red light, Bruce paused and continued, "There's something fishy here. Charlotte Kirk was supposedly recommended by Charles Rowan, but people close to him claim they've never seen her before she arrived in Atlanta."
Martin nodded thoughtfully. "Charles is a senior Warner Bros. producer and has worked with Nolan since Batman Begins. I've collaborated with him on The Dark Knight and Inception. We've always had a good rapport."
Bruce pondered aloud, "Is this really just Charlotte Kirk acting on her own? It mirrors those rare instances when actresses secretly recorded their encounters with Weinstein."
"Keep an eye on her," Martin instructed. "See who she meets when she returns."
"I've already arranged it," Bruce confirmed.
The Escalade turned onto West Street, and Martin gazed at the familiar neon lights. A decade had passed since he had last caused a stir on this street. The Hulk's Manor neon sign glowed ahead, and the bar across the street, once known as "Black," had since been renamed.
Memories flooded Martin's mind. He recalled the "Black" bar's previous owner, who had met a violent end at his hands.
Nightfall shrouded the streets as the Escalade halted in front of the Beast House. Martin stepped out and pushed open the glass door, marked "temporarily closed." A middle-aged man in a suit emerged, his gait awkward and strained.
"Hi, Scott, long time no see," Martin greeted with a chuckle.
Scott Carter, father to Lily and Elena, barely acknowledged Martin and gestured inside. "Come in, Sofia is waiting for you."
As Martin entered the club, he took note of Scott's appearance. Despite his odd walk, Scott seemed better off than ever. His Armani suit, Versace shoes, Rolex watch, and diamond-encrusted iPhone spoke of success.
Martin couldn't help but admire Scott's transformation. He had become a picture of opulence, second only to Menez.
The Hulk's Manor vast interior felt unusually empty, with patrons clustered near the stage. Sophia approached Martin and Bruce with a warm smile. "Welcome, Martin, and Bruce."
Sophia's smile, though warm, revealed the passage of time. The deep wrinkles and creases on her face told a story of lost youth and the relentless march of age.
Martin scanned the room, taking in the familiar surroundings. "What's on show tonight?" he asked, curiosity piqued.
Sophia, smiling warmly, replied, "Every time you return, you bring everyone together. This time, since you're swamped with work, I decided to host the party myself."
She gestured toward Scott, who promptly dimmed the main ceiling light. In an instant, the stage lights flickered to life, and a tune that Martin knew well filled the air.
A dozen old men, clad in leather shoes, trousers, and white shirts, shuffled onto the stage. They began tap dancing, their movements syncing to the rhythm. Martin couldn't help but clap his hands and cheer loudly.
The performance was far from perfect. The beats were off, the postures uneven, and several of the dancers were noticeably out of shape. But Martin understood their intentions and appreciated the effort.
As the music reached its climax, the group, led by Hart and Carrington, attempted a synchronized slide across the stage, aiming to impress with their collective speed and the floor's smoothness. Chaos ensued as several of the older men stumbled and collided with one another, ending up in a heap. Only Hart and Carrington managed to slide close to Martin.
Hart, scratching his head sheepishly, said, "We wanted to give you a 'Dance of the King', but as you can see, we're a bit rusty."
Martin extended his fist, grinning. "I got the message loud and clear."
He turned to the former gigolos behind Hart and shouted, "You guys are all out of shape!"
Despite the ribbing, the men approached with smiles, bumping fists with Martin one by one. The lights brightened, and hotel waiters appeared, bringing out good wine and a variety of dishes.
Old friends gathered, reminiscing about the past, drinking, and cheering. The atmosphere was electric, full of warmth and camaraderie.
At some point, Martin found a moment to speak privately with Scott. "Elena mentioned that if you have time, you should pick a day each month to visit. She'll try to get Harris, Hall, and Lily to come over as well."
Scott's eyes widened with curiosity. "Lily's been in Los Angeles. Tell me, you bastard, did you mess around with my daughter?"
Martin's initial instinct was to deny, but he chose silence instead.
Scott's face reddened with anger. "I knew it! When you came to my place, you weren't just eyeing Elena!"
"Don't accuse me falsely," Martin finally retorted.
"Oh, so you're innocent?" Scott pressed. "First Elena, then Lily. How do you explain that?"
Martin shrugged, saying nothing.
Scott's fury simmered. "When you were a teenager, I pegged you as a scoundrel like Jack Davis. But at least you're better than that scum. Jack Davis ran off with my wife and never gave her a dime. You... you changed the fate of the Carter family."
Martin was momentarily taken aback by the mention of those names. "Have you heard anything about Emma and Jack?"
Scott's response was cold. "I don't go looking for news. It's better that way. Even if Emma returned, who could accept a woman who mingled with so many others?"
Sometimes, no news was the best news, and Martin had never actively sought them out.
Hart interrupted, dragging Martin back to the table. They drank and laughed, trying to shake off the stress and pressure of their lives. Martin, under immense work stress lately, found solace in the camaraderie and alcohol. By the time he left, he was almost drunk, his head buzzing from the night's festivities.
Fortunately, Martin managed to keep his wits about him and avoided making any embarrassing declarations in front of Leonardo and Nicholson.
Bruce drove Martin to Elena's place. As soon as he arrived, any semblance of restraint vanished. He stumbled into the house, shouting, "I'll lead an army of beauties to conquer Washington!"
Elena eyed the drunken fool, incredulous. "And who exactly are your troops, you idiot?"
Martin, sitting on the sofa with an uncharacteristically serious expression, responded, "It's you, Commander! You'll lead the charge!"
Despite his grave tone, it was clear he was talking nonsense. "And the saints of the Coke Cult will be my deputy commanders..."
Elena rolled her eyes. "Who are they? Is Lily one of them?"
Martin ignored her, continuing his rant. "Tear down Washington! Take the White House! Dissolve the United States!"
"You're such a bastard..." Elena muttered, exasperated.
Martin, lost in his delusions of grandeur, seemed to believe he had single-handedly conquered America. His drunken ramblings grew more incoherent, leaving Elena shaking her head in frustration.
Eventually, Martin's ranting subsided, replaced by a quieter tone as he finally succumbed to exhaustion.
---
Meanwhile, in Burbank, Los Angeles, Charlotte Kirk returned home from the airport and immediately called Kevin Tsujihara. She was eager to arrange a meeting, claiming to have critical information about Martin Davis.
Kevin Tsujihara, intrigued, quickly agreed, setting up a rendezvous for the next day at their usual spot.
The following morning, Charlotte meticulously applied her makeup, choosing a short skirt that accentuated her figure. She packed the key information she had gathered in Atlanta, a notepad filled with observations about Martin's activities on the "Interstellar" set.
Though most of the content was based on what she had actually witnessed, she had embellished it with her speculations, recording it all as if it were fact. Initially, Charlotte had considered noting which parts were speculative, but the candid photo incident in Atlanta made her reconsider.
After all, Kevin Tsujihara wasn't exactly known for his integrity, and Martin Davis was even more notorious. Only a paranoid pervert would install a testing machine in their trailer.
Charlotte finished packing her laptop, slipped into a pair of heels, and headed out to her car. She drove straight to the Burbank hotel, unaware that she was being tailed.
In a car behind her, Ivan woke his partner, Luke. "The target's on the move. Stay sharp and get the shots."
Luke, a blond man, wiped his face with a wet wipe and readied his camera.
The red BMW in front of them didn't drive far. After about ten minutes, it turned into the underground parking lot of the Burbank Hotel. Ivan followed, keeping a couple of cars between them, and quickly found a parking spot.
"She's getting out," Luke said, snapping photos as Charlotte exited her car and walked towards the elevator.
Ivan grabbed a briefcase and stepped out of the car. "I'll get closer. You keep an eye on things and keep snapping." He headed towards the elevator, ready to gather more intel.
Luke gave a sharp salute as Ivan and the other three entered the elevator room. Just as they reached the doors, an elevator arrived.
They stepped inside, Ivan seemingly engrossed in his phone. However, he kept an eye on Charlotte, who pressed the button for the seventh floor.
The elevator ascended, and when it stopped on the seventh floor, Charlotte stepped out, swaying her hips as she walked away.
Once they reached the eighth floor, Ivan exited and swiftly entered the emergency stairwell. He quickly descended to the seventh floor, noting that the elevator had continued to the tenth floor. Ivan's instincts told him that Charlotte was meeting someone important. Given that she was on the suite floor, it was clear the rendezvous was significant.
He listened intently for the sound of high heels, following the echo down the hallway. When he heard the distinct sound slow down, he pretended to drop something, bending down to pick it up and watch unobtrusively.
Charlotte reached Suite 707 and knocked gently. The door opened, and she slipped inside, greeting Kevin Tsujihara with a passionate kiss before he could utter a word. Their reunion quickly became frenzied.
Satisfied with his observations, Ivan returned to the elevator lobby. Consulting the floor map, he confirmed the suite number, then descended to the lobby. He clearly remembered that Charlotte had knocked on the door instead of using a key card, indicating that the person she was meeting was already inside.
In the lobby, Ivan found a discreet spot, pulled out his phone, and made a call. "It's me. I need to know who's staying long-term in Suite 707 at the Burbank Hotel."
"Hold on," the voice on the other end replied. "I'll call you back with the details."
Ivan positioned himself where he could keep an eye on the elevators, grabbed a newspaper, and settled in to wait. He also called Luke, instructing him to monitor the underground parking lot.
---
Upstairs in Suite 707, the fervor had died down. Kevin Tsujihara lounged on the sofa, eyes closed, resembling a king awaiting service. He took pride in his efficiency, believing his pleasure was paramount, and a brief encounter spared him from much exertion.
After a while, he opened his eyes, dressed, and addressed Charlotte. "What happened in Atlanta? The crew unanimously decided to kick you out!"
Charlotte knew Kevin had ties to Charles Rowan, the channel through which she had joined the crew. She couldn't afford to lie rashly. "I brought a modified mini camera to secretly photograph Martin, but he caught me. It's my fault. I never expected him to be so paranoid as to have surveillance in his trailer."
"Why did you want pictures of him?" Kevin asked, eyes narrowing.
Charlotte adopted a look of feigned innocence. "You told me to keep an eye on his daily life and work. I found some clues. To verify and get you key evidence, I used the camera to try and record a conversation with him."
"Help me?" Kevin scoffed, clearly skeptical. "You wanted evidence to leverage against Martin Davis for your own gain!"
Charlotte's face flushed with a mix of indignation and fear. "I was only trying to follow your orders and help you. I thought I could find something valuable!"
Kevin studied her for a moment before shrugging. "Be careful next time. You're playing with fire."
Charlotte nodded meekly, though inwardly she was plotting her next move.
Charlotte smiled sheepishly, scratching her blonde hair in a calculated move. "You figured it out. Is my acting really that bad?"
Kevin Tsujihara leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "What did you manage to record?"
Charlotte reached into her bag, retrieving a small notebook, and handed it to him. "It's all in there."
Kevin opened the notebook, which was no bigger than his palm, and began to flip through the densely written pages. Each entry was meticulously dated, detailing Martin's daily activities and interactions on the "Interstellar" set.
Most entries were mundane, documenting Martin's routine work and trivial moments. But one passage caught Kevin's eye. It described fabricated instances of Martin and Mackenzie Foy having frequent, intimate conversations. He pointed at the entry. "Is there something going on between them?"
Charlotte nodded, exaggerating her observations. "They seemed a bit too close. Mackenzie and her mother were always around Martin, trying to get his attention. Martin's attitude towards Mackenzie was noticeably different, and others noticed it too."
Kevin, aware of the heavy investment Warner Bros. had in "Interstellar" and familiar with Mackenzie Foy, didn't immediately dismiss her claims.
His fingers drummed rhythmically on the notebook. High-ranking individuals in Hollywood often had peculiar interests, including Kevin himself. Charlotte, eager to maintain her value to Kevin, added, "I tried to dig deeper and get more details, but it didn't work out."
She sighed, looking defeated. "I admit, part of my motivation was to get something from Martin, but I was also following your instructions to gather information on him."
"Hold on, I need to make a call," Kevin said, heading to the balcony. He dialed a number and asked for a detailed report on Martin's relationship with Mackenzie Foy.
Within moments, his contact confirmed, "Martin and Mackenzie have a very close relationship. She often gives him gifts, and he frequently helps her with her performances. They're like... teacher and student."
Kevin was reminded of a past scandal involving Martin and Saoirse Ronan. Intimate photos of them had been taken by paparazzi, and it was widely believed in the industry that they were more than just teacher and student.
Contemplating this, Kevin returned to the room. Charlotte, sensing his hesitation, looked desperate. "Kevin, I've given so much for you. You're not going to abandon me over this, right?"
"Of course not," Kevin reassured her, pinching her cheek gently. "This is nothing. I'll find you a better role in another project."
Charlotte's eyes lit up, and she hugged Kevin's legs tightly. "I knew you'd help me. You're the best."
Kevin finished reading the notebook, closed it, and pocketed it. "Remember, don't tell anyone about our relationship."
Charlotte nodded fervently, understanding the implications. "I understand."
"And don't mention anything about Martin's activities either," Kevin added. "Keep an eye out, listen carefully, and update me with any new information."
Charlotte nodded again, her mind racing with the possibilities. "I will. You can count on me."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone