Chapter 450: Quality Goods

In the golden afternoon sun, Martin exited Louise's residence and made his way back to his North District home on Sunset Boulevard. Shortly after his arrival, Nicholson and Leonardo, with their usual flair, hurried over.

Upon admiring Martin's new abode, the trio settled in the European-style pavilion nestled in the lush back garden, opting for a leisurely tea session.

Leonardo, impressed, couldn't hide his awe. "You snagged this place for 12 million dollars, Martin? What a steal! Where can I find such a gem? You must give me some tips." Before Martin could respond, Nicholson chimed in with his usual sarcasm.

"You need to cozy up to a tycoon like Brad Pitt first. Wait for him to hit a rough patch financially, then you might snag a deal like this."

Leonardo, sipping his tea, smoothly shifted the conversation. "What about Lily's large sculptures? I'm thinking of investing while they're still affordable, anticipating a surge in value."

Martin, pouring another cup of black tea for Leonardo, nodded. "She's aware of your interest and will surely accommodate. As a renowned collector in Hollywood, your endorsement would significantly boost her value."

Despite his playful jabs at Lily, Martin's support was steadfast when it mattered.

Leonardo agreed readily. "Consider it done."

Martin then turned to Nicholson. "What's the latest at the Adler Acting School?"

Nicholson, an Adler alum himself, was well-informed. "It's quite the buzz. Ben Affleck, introduced to the school by Judy Dench, is now a part-time teacher there. He's even teaching your girlfriend's class."

Leonardo quipped with a smirk, "I can guess all the hidden agendas there." He eyed Martin expectantly. "Aren't you concerned?"

Martin, however, was already ahead of the game. "I've got a plan. Remember Jennifer Garner, Leo? Blonde, tall, right up your alley. Why not pursue that?"

Leonardo sidestepped the suggestion. "Garner's over 30, not quite my usual type."

Nicholson and Leonardo's knowing glances at Martin suggested they expected more from him.

Martin, focused and strategic, continued. "Handling Ben Affleck directly is tricky, but I have a plan involving his brother, Casey."

Leonardo, feigning shock, scooted his chair away from Martin. "You're not suggesting..."

"Business, Leo, just business," Martin cut in. He detailed his plan involving the purchase of Lily's sculpture.

Nicholson inquired, "But isn't Casey at a loss here? Lily's works are gaining traction."

Martin explained his concern for Lily's safety, revealing his precaution of having bodyguards shadow Casey. "He's been erratic, even trashing the sculptures outside his home."

Nicholson caught on. "So, you're planning another push to provoke him?"

Martin shrugged. "Handling Ben isn't straightforward. He's well-connected in Hollywood. Subtlety is key."

Leonardo added, "Ben's been in the game for over a decade, backed by heavyweights like Harvey and Matt Damon. He's no ordinary star."

Martin was resolute. "We start small, then build momentum to tackle the bigger challenge."

Nicholson, intrigued by the strategy, inquired, "Do you have a specific plan in mind?"

"I do, but it requires leveraging your Adler connections," Martin replied, outlining his strategy.

Nicholson's interest was piqued. "Let's give it a try. We've got nothing to lose, after all."

Glancing at his watch, Martin stood up decisively. "How about a walk? I'll show you something interesting. I've had my guys keeping an eye on Casey lately."

Leonardo perked up. "Sure! Let me grab a bottle from your cellar. Nothing like wine to accompany a good show."

Nicholson chuckled. "A show's always better with a fine drink."

Leonardo descended to the underground wine cellar, emerging with a bottle of Cabeza tequila. They then set off in an unassuming Chevrolet, leaving the grandeur of the manor behind.

En route, Martin rang Bruce and directed Leonardo, who was at the wheel, towards Old Santa Monica Pier.

They arrived near the pier and parked at Bruce's instruction, in the highest lot, beside a public phone booth. From their vantage point in the car, they could see the old wooden structure of the pier stretching out into the sea. The once bustling tourist hotspot, now a shadow of its former self, was sparsely populated with a few lingering tourists.

Soon, Bruce arrived, ducking into the car. "Everything's set. It won't be long now."

"Is it all in place?" Martin inquired.

Bruce confirmed, "The actors and cameraman Ivan found are ready. No issues there."

Hearing 'cameraman', Nicholson suggested, "Why not get Lorraine to take the photos? She could make a tidy sum selling them to TMZ."

Leonardo, amused, commented, "Jack, you're quite the supportive father."

Martin added, "Okay, but have her keep a discreet distance."

Nicholson laughed. "Don't worry, Lorraine's been honing her photography skills lately for extra pocket money."

Leonardo queried, "Ever considered getting her to change careers?"

Martin quipped, "Lorraine's got a perfect business going, snapping candid shots of Nicholson for cash."

Nicholson retorted, "Better than secretly photographing you for more money."

Leonardo teased, "Aren't you worried about your little lamb, Lorraine, near the big bad wolf, Martin?"

Martin feigned offense. "Jack, I've always treated you like a brother. Are you conspiring against me?"

Nicholson was momentarily speechless at Martin's audacious retort.

Before long, a car approached and parked near the pier. Casey Affleck emerged, carrying a bottle of wine to the beach. He leaned against the pier's guardrail, biting off the bottle cap and pouring wine directly into his mouth. The setting sun cast a warm glow on his face, and a sea breeze tousled his hair, giving him a disheveled, almost vagabond-like appearance.

Much like Martin, who maintained a sunny facade, Hollywood stars often harbored contrasting lives away from the public eye.

Casey wiped the wine from his lips, his gaze drifting to a group of tourists with clown-painted faces. The sight stirred a memory, and he muttered to himself, "Lily Carter!"

He had resolved to stay sober for a while and planned to seek out Lily Carter at CalArts, determined to see things through.

As the clown-painted tourists departed, another tourist appeared, taking a seat on a nearby bench.

From the other direction, a young man in a bulky coat approached Casey. "Hey, man, are looking for something special?"

Casey eyed him, suspecting a dealer. "Got anything good?"

The young man leaned in, whispering, "Only the best."

Casey, familiar with such exchanges, demanded, "Show me first. If it's right, I'll buy it."

The man pulled a paper bag from beneath his coat, unveiling a hand-carved figurine of the Dark Knight's Joker. He pointed out the base. "See? 'Lily Carter', it's definitely genuine."

At the mention of Lily's name, Casey's expression sank further into desolation.

The young man, undeterred, continued his fervent pitch. "Lily Carter is the rising star among sculptors. Hollywood artists are scrambling for her pieces. Her limited-edition clowns are investments, they'll soar in value, rivaling the works of Dali or even Da Vinci!"

Cassie, nursing his wine, waved dismissively. "Not interested."

Yet the young man persisted. "You're missing out, man. This is a golden opportunity. Only a fool would pass up such potential for appreciation!"

Cassie halted, fixing the young man with a stony gaze.

Unfazed, the seller rambled on. "A buddy of mine snapped up several of Carter's works. But the guy's a nutcase, tricked by some eco-extremists. Obsessed with 'eco-friendly' materials, he smashed all the sculptures to bits. Even if he begged me, I wouldn't sell him another!"

Cassie stared blankly, as if seeing his own actions mirrored in the young man's tale.

The young man scoffed, "Can you believe it? First duped, then destroying valuable art. Even pigs show more sense!"

Cassie's expression didn't change, no sign of anger, but his actions spoke volumes. In a flash, he hurled his wine bottle at the young man.

The seller ducked, but not fast enough, crumpling to the ground with a cry of pain.

Cassie, relentless, kicked the fallen man, who curled up, clutching his head, shouting, "Are you insane?"

His cries for help echoed, drawing the attention of nearby tourists.

From their high vantage point in the parking lot, Martin, Nicholson, and Leonardo sipped wine, thoroughly entertained by the unfolding drama.

Martin drained his glass, musing aloud, "Who's going to play the hero of Los Angeles today?"

Leonardo was ready to intervene, but Nicholson held him back. "I've been a staple of Los Angeles for years, a celebrated neighbor on Sunset Strip. It's only right that I step in."

With that, he dashed to the public phone booth and dialed 911.

Located near the Santa Monica beach villas, the police response was swift.

Nicholson, following Martin's lead in anonymous good deeds, heard the approaching sirens, slid back into the car, and suggested, "Let's go. Time to find a new spot."