Its a bit of a surprise that nobody here at Metblogs has written about the Anthony Pellicano trial now taking place in downtown L.A., especially considering its a uniquely LA story full of intrigue, local scumbags, celebrities, and locations many of us frequent.
In short, Pellicano was a private eye to the rich and famous who would (illegally) wiretap phones of clients’ enemies, ex-wives, and allegedly use strong arm tactics on his client’s behalf. When Feds raided his office a few years ago they found grenades and plastic explosives. Its the kind of stuff that could only happen in the movies, and in a few years will likely make for a great movie.
This weekend I tried catching up on the trial’s proceedings, largely focusing on phone calls that the Huffington Post now has online between Pellicano and some of his clients, including Courtney Love, Chris Rock, and director John McTiernan. Until now, I had realized not only the extent and ease of his wiretaps, which should frighten anyone, but also how blase and matter of fact this all was to these entertainment heavyweights.
The whole thing reminded me of an incident that took place to me years ago…