The Wolf of Los Angeles

Chapter 44: Stirring the Pot, Stirring People, Stirring Money

At the Fox Tower, inside the Fox Television Center, Hawk stepped into the reception room and found Megan, a tall blonde with her hair tied in a ponytail, waiting for him. Megan was both a producer and an anchor.

She gave him a quick smile and asked, "Did you bring the video?"

Hawk didn’t waste any time. He placed his laptop on the table.

Claire immediately grabbed an adapter and connected it to the power source.

Hawk powered on the laptop and opened the footage of the shooting.

Megan crossed her arms, the fabric of her shirt visibly tightening at the sides.

The video began with a Cadillac’s rear end, the camera staying focused on the vehicle as it parked. The footage continued to track the car until the sound of police sirens prompted the camera to pan up, revealing two LAPD officers stepping out from behind the vehicle.

Robert Downey Jr. got out of the car, pulled out a handgun, and aimed it at the female officer, who fired first, emptying her magazine.

The camera shifted, capturing a close-up of Downey’s bleeding chest, his bloodstained face, and the pool of blood beneath him.

Megan’s breathing quickened as a surge of excitement overtook her. Each synapse in her brain seemed to fire in rapid succession, electrified by the explosive story. She grasped the public's likely reaction instantly.

“This could link to other LAPD excessive force cases and spark a wave of—"

Hawk, sensing trouble, interrupted her, "If you report it from that angle, I’m taking the footage back."

Megan stopped him, "Is there more?"

Hawk opened another video. "Watch this first before deciding on your angle."

The second video showed Downey in a parking lot, conducting a deal with a trafficker.

Megan immediately discarded her earlier approach. She pivoted, "Robert Downey Jr., involved in drug transactions, found hoarding large quantities of narcotics, overdoses, then attacks police with a firearm."

Hawk gave her the green light, adding, "Let's ensure Downey is utterly discredited and shunned by the mainstream media."

Megan saw an even broader opportunity. "Tie this to Downey’s prior drug-related cases and Hollywood’s rampant drug culture. Highlight the societal damage caused by celebrities abusing their influence."

Hawk hit where it hurt. "And don’t forget Downey’s family history with drugs. Dive into his upbringing, explore why he fell into addiction, and expose all the terrible things he did after."

Megan jotted this all down, recognizing the immense value of the story. She made her offer without hesitation. "Fifty thousand dollars. Two videos, one major story."

Hawk had done his research beforehand. "Two months ago, a video of the LAPD gunning down an unarmed Black man sold to Channel 9 for $8,000. That was a nameless civilian and a relatively low-profile social issue."

He tapped the upright edge of his laptop. "This is the death of an Oscar-nominated actor and BAFTA winner. While trafficking drugs—possibly even dealing them—he resisted LAPD inspections with a gun and nearly killed a female officer. The value here isn’t just tenfold; it’s astronomical!"

Hawk emphasized, "And, a female officer."

Megan’s sharp media instincts immediately locked onto his angle. "Yes, we can definitely play up the gender element."

Her transformation from media strategist to opportunist was seamless. Just minutes ago, she’d been leaning toward framing the female officer as an excessive force enforcer. Now, she pivoted 180 degrees.

"Highlight her bravery and courage. Women can do what men do. Let’s involve women’s organizations in Los Angeles, encourage them to visit and commend the officer, and document the whole thing. It’s a great chance to champion gender equality."

The deal was as good as sealed. Megan had the decisiveness and broader perspective to finalize her offer. "A hundred thousand dollars. That’s the max I can approve. Beyond that, my hands are tied."

"Deal. One hundred thousand. But I want your reporting stance written into the transfer agreement," Hawk agreed without hesitation. "Here’s an extra tip for free."

He continued swiftly, "Downey’s personality has likely made him plenty of enemies in Hollywood. Why not invite a few guests to tear him apart publicly? Everyone loves piling on, and it makes for fantastic viewing."

"You mean digging up dirt on Downey and ensuring he’s forever disgraced?" Megan uncrossed her arms and slid one hand into her trouser pocket, for the first time giving Hawk a serious once-over.

Aside from his solid build, he appeared fairly ordinary.

Finally, Megan extended her hand. "Megan Taylor."

Hawk shook it. "Hawk Osmond."

Megan grabbed a pen, scribbled a number on a sticky note, and handed it to Hawk. "This is my direct line. Call me if you have any other big stories. They need to be substantial."

Hawk pocketed the note. "I will."

Megan then directed Claire, "In my name, issue Hawk an 11th Channel special correspondent credential. Do it now."

Claire left to make the arrangements.

Hawk thanked them politely, "Appreciate it."

Megan, curious about how Hawk had captured such sensational footage, didn’t ask a single question. All she cared about was the story itself.

An assistant came over to copy the videos. Hawk handled the task personally, unwilling to leave his laptop in their hands.

Fox-affiliated outlets were notorious for their rock-bottom ethics.

Within minutes, the process was complete. Hawk received a $100,000 check and an 11th Channel correspondent ID.

Back in Megan’s office, production meetings were already underway.

After reviewing the videos, Megan laid down the law. "The tone of the footage is clear. Let the program follow suit. Everyone, leverage your resources to dig up every scrap of dirt on Robert Downey Jr. I won’t let him leave this world quietly. His death will serve one purpose: boosting our ratings!"

Megan efficiently assigned tasks as the plan took shape.

---

Meanwhile, Hawk left Fox Tower and drove toward his studio. Contemplating the LAPD angle, his phone rang.

Answering, he heard a familiar voice. "Hello, Mr. Osmond. This is Officer Julian from the LAPD West Substation. We met this afternoon, and you gave me your card."

Prepared, Hawk replied, "Yes, we met earlier on Santa Monica Boulevard."

Julian continued, "Regarding this afternoon’s case, we have some questions for you."

Hawk offered, "You’re welcome to come to my studio. It’s on Fountain Street, number 13, East Hollywood."

Julian hesitated but quickly agreed, "We’ll head over now."

Hawk assessed the situation as low risk. "I’ll cancel my evening plans and wait for you."

He entered his studio, secured his gear, and discreetly stashed a Glock pistol within reach. He also packed up cash and valuables just in case.

Hawk waited for a while until he heard a knock at the door.

He checked the surveillance monitor first and saw only three people outside.

Leading the group was someone in a patrol officer’s uniform—Julian, whom Hawk had seen earlier that afternoon making a phone call. Behind him were two others: an older man, a police inspector, and a female police officer who appeared to be a sergeant.

Across the street on Fountain Avenue, Frank, sitting on top of an RV, curiously watched the West Coast Studio.

Three LAPD officers showing up at the door wasn’t a good sign.

Frank took a sip of beer, frowned, and muttered, “Just opened for business, and now it’s about to shut down? These young folks are too reckless.”

Inside the studio, Hawk offered them seats. Julian introduced everyone: the inspector’s name was Edmond, and the sergeant was Susie.

Edmond began, “I heard you’re a reporter.”

“Yes.” Hawk took out the press ID he had just received and placed it in front of Edmond.

Seeing the Fox Channel 11 logo on it, Edmond asked, “You were the one who left Officer Julian your contact information, correct?”

Hawk was well-prepared. “That’s right. I’m a reporter, and I’m very sensitive to public opinion. The person who died was a celebrity. Officers Julian and another policeman could potentially face public criticism. As someone who witnessed the entire incident, I believe they were not at fault at all. My sense of professional ethics and justice doesn’t allow me to let the situation escalate unchecked.”

Susie chimed in, “That’s exactly why we’re here—we’re worried about that too.”

Edmond continued, “Can we take a look at the video?”

Hawk turned his laptop toward them, allowing them to view the footage he had recorded.

The trio’s demeanor revealed the LAPD’s stance on the matter, which aligned perfectly with what Hawk had anticipated.

Edmond reviewed the video carefully. The most troublesome aspect of this case was that Downey was a public figure. If it had been an ordinary individual, the media might stir things up for a while, but ultimately they wouldn’t have much leverage against the LAPD. At most, the female patrol officer might face a temporary suspension.

Now, however, Downey’s father and some others were making a fuss, giving the LAPD a hard time.

Ironically, Downey’s wife, Deborah, didn’t seem to care.

These people weren’t donors to the LAPD, and there was even considerable animosity between the two sides. The LAPD had gone after Downey three times in the past, leading him to spend nearly three years in and out of jail.

The fourth time, Downey ended up being summoned by God.

The attitude from LAPD Headquarters at Parker Center was crystal clear: they needed concrete evidence to solidify Downey’s guilt and definitively resolve this case.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!