Hollywood Homicide Page #2

Sometimes it helps to talk.

That's all I'm saying.

All right.

Let me paint you a picture.

Portrait of Joe Gavilan.

Seven, eight years ago,

I sold off the results

of my entrepreneurial

efforts up to that point.

Three tanning salons

and two original silk-tip nail parlors

in the Antelope Valley,

and I started attending

weekend real estate seminars

at the Airport Hyatt.

You know, "How to Make

$1 Million in Real Estate

with Very Little Money Down."

Sounds good.

Started out with a condo in Sherman Oaks.

Slapped some paint on the walls.

Refaced the kitchen cabinets.

Traded up to a smoke-damaged ranch

in Tarzana, then a Spanish on Outpost

and a fake Mediterranean in Los Feliz.

Pretty soon, I had everything

I've got tied up in this...

this monstrosity... on Mt. Olympus,

at the corner of Hercules and,

I sh*t you not, Achilles.

So what's the problem?

The problem is if I don't

score a big commission

or get rid of this...

piece of sh*t on Mt. Olympics...

Well, the word Titanic comes to mind.

Joe, I know a girl who works

for some rich producer.

Says that he might be selling his place.

Maybe you can get the listing.

Got a name?

Well, her name's, like, Mimi or Moma

or something like that.

I don't remember.

Not the girl, hot rocks.

The producer.

I don't know the producer.

Way before my time. I...

Hey, Joe, you ready for something?

Shoot.

I don't think I want to be a cop anymore.

Come on, you need some fresh air.

Put this on my tab, Hank.

What tab?

Hey, I got it.

I got it.

It's okay.

Here.

Well, if you don't want to be a cop,

what do you want to be?

I want to be an actor.

You want to be what?

An actor.

What?

Okay...

You're gay.

I can deal with that.

You know I'm not gay.

Why do you want to do

something stupid like acting?

Because it's my bliss...

and I have to follow my bliss.

Turning into Oprah around here.

I rented a theater up

on Highland Friday night.

I invited some agents and producers.

It's called a showcase.

What are you going to showcase?

My talents.

Mr. Robert De Niro here.

Hey, detective, I know you're going to say

it's none of my business, but...

when's the last time you got laid'?

None of your business.

Right.

Say it ain't so, Joe.

Oh, my God.

Jesus Christ.

How's business, Jack?

Wanda.

Wanda...

Some trick's thumping on prostitutes.

We put our best female officer undercover

and she got hurt, so... I'm the bait.

Well, you look good.

Well, it never hurts to get a compliment,

but that's not why I was

shaking my booty at you.

I heard you're working that bloodbath over

at the Freeway Club.

Yeah.

Word's already out on the street

about the shooting.

Word is one guy slid

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