New York
As they say, one couldn’t make it up, not even in Hollywood, which is where this Chandleresque saga took place. Ronald Burkle, the supermarket billionaire who has accused a minion at the New York Post of shaking him down, does not look like much, but then billionaires tend not to nowadays. Shakedowns seek out Burkle like groupies look for Jackson Scott. Back in 2002, Burkle went to the fuzz and told them a gentleman by the name of Anthony Pellicano, no relation to the Mykonian waterbird and symbol of the island, had demanded that Burkle pay him 250,000 greenbacks in exchange for the Pelican agreeing not to investigate him. Pellicano is a private dick in El Lay, although any resemblance to Sam Spade is purely coincidental. According to Pellicano, the man who had hired him to do the dirty on Burkle was none other than my old friend Michael Ovitz, once Hollywood’s most feared and powerful agent, now a fallen idol, licking his wounds somewhere out west.
So far, so bad. Pellicano has been cooling his heels in an El Lay pokey since 2002, charged with wiretapping, conspiracy and explosives, whatever that means. But not for shaking down Burkle. When the Pelican and Burkle met, and the former told him that Ovitz was looking into the billionaire’s affairs, the two got along like a house on fire. So well, in fact, Burkle told Pellicano to switch à la Italiano, and do the dirty on Ovitz. No cash was exchanged, but Burkle offered the dick all sorts of favours — again, whatever that means. Now comes the English connection. Burkle then turned to his friend Steve Bing, of Liz Hurley fame, who had used Pellicano to get the dirt on our Liz when she was pregnant with Bing’s child. Bing gave the thumbs up to Pellicano, calling him a gentleman and a man one could trust, which in a way shows Liz Hurley to be a terrible judge of character.
In order not to confuse you any more than is necessary, here’s what it all comes down to. Ovitz hires Pellicano to dig up filth on Burkle. Burkle and Ovitz had been partners in business ventures that had all gone south. Burkle claimed Ovitz owed him moolah, and Ovitz claimed the opposite was true. Instead of going to court, both decided to use the oldest Hollywood trick of them all. Get the dirt and put the screws on the sonofabitch and to hell with the courts. The trouble was the Pelican. He played one against the other, confusing the issue even more. Then the Feds stepped in. When Pellicano told Burkle he had dropped his investigation, he also dropped hints that he should be rewarded. Burkle refused. The Feds saw that as a shakedown, and for once they seemed to get it right. But not so fast. Burkle and Ovitz bumped into each other on Rodeo Drive, had a friendly chat and decided that Pellicano was playing them both for suckers. Pellicano seemed dead in the water until it transpired that Burkle had the Pelican’s son swim with dolphins at Sea World, and also had allowed the gumshoe to use one of his retreats in La Jolla.
As of writing, Pellicano is in jail, Ovitz and Burkle are furious with each other and use the press to spread unkind stories, and Burkle has yet again hit the headlines due to yet another shakedown, this time by a little squirt by the name of Jared Paul Stern. Stern, who makes Pellicano seem to possess plenipotential dignity by comparison, was an occasional contributor to ‘Page Six’, the number one gossip column in America run by my friend Richard Johnson. Stern allegedly tried to shake down Burkle — the Feds have him on tape — offering the billionaire favourable coverage on ‘Page Six’ in exchange for 250,000 greenbacks. (That number seems to be a favourite with those shaking down Burkle.) The only problem is that Stern making that offer is like my offering to act as honest broker between Uncle Sam and Osama bin Laden. Nothing stops me from doing it, but for some strange reason not too many people will take it seriously. The Feds, needless to say, will try to get Stern to sing and incriminate higher-ups, which is what Feds do for a living. But it would be a travesty of justice. Stern is a slimy little hack trying to break into the big time. He will sing any tune he’s told to sing. I am no friend of the Murdoch press, but Richard Johnson is as incorruptible and as clean as they come, and anyone who says the opposite has an axe to grind.
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