Chapter 7 Armed Robbery

When Murphy returned home, the eastern sky had already turned a hint of dawn, but he felt no sleepiness. He went to his workspace, opened his laptop, and retrieved the police scanner from the car, flipping through the stored instructions on the computer and the Los Angeles Police Department's radio codes.

The memories left by the previous Murphy reminded him that this was an essential tool for earning money as a freelance journalist.

In the event of an emergency, this police scanner could capture every public communication from the Los Angeles Police Department.

For example, in last night's car accident, if someone had called 911, the police control platform would contact the nearest officers by calling their car-mounted scanners, directing them to the scene as quickly as possible.

With this police scanner, Murphy could receive similar messages and rush to the scene to film as desired.

However, the police often used codes that were incomprehensible to the layperson.

Fortunately, the previous owner was considerate enough to detail the types and meanings of the Los Angeles Police Department's radio codes on the laptop.

For example, 148 incidents represented resisting arrest, 187 incidents represented homicide, 211 incidents represented armed robbery, and so on...

After reviewing the radio codes and studying the operation of the police scanner, Murphy finally couldn't keep his eyes open and went to another room to sleep.

He slept until mid-afternoon, then bought some fast food to eat after returning home. Murphy sat in front of his laptop, focused on perfecting the script he had been working on for a long time.

Even though he knew the likelihood of a new writer selling a new script was extremely low, Murphy didn't give up hope.

In the following month and a half, Murphy quit his job at the auto repair shop. His life was divided into two parts: after dinner, he would drive around West Hollywood, Beverly Hills, and Santa Monica with a handheld camera and the police scanner, looking for any valuable news leads. Whenever he received useful information from the police scanner, he would rush to the scene to film. Murphy's familiarity with the entire Los Angeles area from his previous life played a crucial role.

On the other hand, after returning home in the early hours of the morning, Murphy would take a nap, then wake up in the afternoon to perfect his script or check job postings. He didn't miss any opportunity to truly enter Hollywood.

Perhaps it was a turn of fortune, or perhaps a job where he didn't have to rely on others' opinions suited him better. Murphy's work life during these ten-plus days was much smoother than before. He filmed nearly twenty videos of car accidents, fires, and brawls, most of which he successfully sold to Fox Los Angeles Channel 6.

Particularly lucky was his footage of Madonna Ciccone and British director Guy Ritchie's date in West Hollywood, which he sold through Kara's recommendation to Fox Entertainment Channel for a whopping three thousand dollars.

With a relatively stable source of income, Murphy's first priority was to pay off his debts. He returned the car, borrowed phone, and money to Ross, then bought replacements from the second-hand market. Especially the purchase of a used Ford sedan, which he specifically modified with a bracket on the passenger seat to hold a camera, enabling him to film while driving.

He also printed multiple copies of the organized scripts and mailed them to the top six Hollywood companies, as well as dozens of other film companies and studios. The result was not unexpected. He hadn't received any responses yet.

Furthermore, Murphy had interviewed at several film crews, none of which were ideal. He either caused problems for a British director with his past or had a criminal record, making these crews wary of using him.

Nearly a month after his release from prison, Murphy had solved his basic survival problems. However, entering Hollywood remained a dream.

The hot and dry August in Los Angeles was unbearable, even though the sun had shifted towards the sea. Murphy parked his car beside Santa Monica Boulevard, letting the sea breeze blow in through the open window, bringing a rare coolness.

Checking the time, Murphy took out his phone and dialed a number once again.

"Hello..."

Unlike the busy tone ten minutes ago, a formal voice answered, "This is the 20th Century Fox editorial department."

"Sorry to bother you, I'm a screenwriter," Murphy said as simply as possible. "My name is Murphy Stanton, a screenwriter. I submitted a script to your company and wanted to inquire about your review."

"Thank you for your support of 20th Century Fox."

The voice on the other end was polite and calm. "Sir, after we review your script, we will contact you."

Murphy wanted to say more, but the person on the other end politely said a few more words and then hung up.

"Same old story!"

Throwing the phone onto the passenger seat, Murphy felt somewhat frustrated. "Why are all the movie companies like this?"

The person just now didn't even ask for the name of the script he submitted!

Throughout the day, Murphy, who had been anxiously waiting, made calls to several movie companies, only to receive similar responses. The people who answered the phone were polite, and their words sounded routine.

Watching the sun approaching the horizon in the west, Murphy sighed deeply, basically confirming that relying on script submissions was extremely unreliable. The chances of a new script from a new writer being picked up were no greater than winning millions of dollars in a lottery.

At this point, Murphy basically gave up on the idea of quickly succeeding through script submissions, and his determination to move forward step by step became firmer.

The sun finally set into the sea. After a simple dinner outside, Murphy returned to his car, turned on the police scanner, and, as he had done during this time, sifted through the police signals for useful information. However, luck wasn't on his side tonight. Even after the sky had completely darkened, he hadn't received any valuable leads.

Starting the car, Murphy headed towards Santa Monica Valley.

As the security in affluent areas improved, the occurrence of tragic news decreased, highlighting the value of Murphy's work. After all, scarce items could fetch a high price.

Since selling his first video, Murphy spent most of his working hours circling the wealthy neighborhoods near the coast and valley. He rarely went to downtown, even if there were emergencies.

Murphy's Ford sedan sped along Seventh Street in Santa Monica Valley. His eyes focused on the road ahead, while his ears caught every sound from the police scanner. Perhaps his recent good luck had run out, as he circled Santa Monica without receiving any valuable clues.

As the night grew darker, Murphy hoped to encounter incidents like drunk Hollywood stars causing trouble while driving around bars and nightclubs. Although Santa Monica was home to many Hollywood celebrities, such incidents weren't common. Murphy circled around without any luck, so he decided to leave Santa Monica Valley and try his luck elsewhere.

The residents of Santa Monica Valley were wealthy, and buying property in the area was out of reach for someone like Murphy, who worked in his profession.

As Murphy drove along the main road, the entire valley seemed unusually quiet. While ordinary people might enjoy the tranquility, Murphy did not.

"Come on, something happen already, even if it's just a burglary."

Gripping the steering wheel, Murphy kept muttering to

himself, hoping for some unexpected or violent event in this quiet residential area so he could capture something valuable, at least enough to cover his gas expenses for the night.

Having bought the used Ford and modified the passenger seat camera bracket, plus hiring a lawyer for himself, Murphy didn't have much money left. Poverty stifles ambition, and in Murphy's situation, the most urgent need was undoubtedly to make some money quickly and avoid being left with nothing.

Contrary to his wishes, right before he was about to leave Santa Monica Valley, the police scanner suddenly emitted an urgent female voice.

"All units in Santa Monica, 211 incident at 17 Bill Road in the Valley area! Repeat, this is a 211 incident..."

Hearing this, Murphy didn't hesitate. He immediately hit the brakes, turned the car around, and sped back in the direction he had come from.

Bill Road was not far from the main road he was driving on, just three intersections away.

Like a black lightning bolt, Murphy's Ford sedan, driven by a spirited Murphy, rushed back at a much faster speed than before.

A 211 incident meant armed robbery, and if he remembered correctly, the residents near Bill Road in the Valley area were very wealthy.

What kind of price could he fetch for news of an armed robbery against extremely wealthy individuals?

At this moment, Murphy's excitement was palpable.