After his brother left, Harvey's bloodshot eyes swept the room and landed on a large scrap of newspaper lying on the floor.
It featured a photograph—a woman's face.
The face of the reporter who had been stirring up trouble for him: Judy.
He stared at it blankly for a moment. Then a vicious gleam appeared in his eyes, so intense it seemed it might drip from his lashes.
Suddenly, he muttered to himself, "If I can't fix the problem... can't I just get rid of the one causing it? Judy... ha... Judy... hahahaha…"
…
The detective agency was one of Harvey's longtime connections.
That day, Goodrich, the agency's director, received a call from Harvey.
"Hello, Goodrich."
"Hey, Harvey. You're not exactly having the best week—what brings you to me?"
"It's precisely because things aren't going well that I'm calling. I've got a big job for you. A very lucrative one."
In his cluttered office, Goodrich frowned. He didn't sound excited—if anything, cautious. He hesitated, then asked, "It's not about that reporter, is it?"
Harvey gave a chilling chuckle over the phone. "I want you to tail that female reporter—Judy. Record everything she says and does. If you catch any compromising behavior—affairs, drugs, anything shady—all the better."
The moment Harvey finished, Goodrich responded, "Sorry, Harvey, but this one's going to be tough. You know she's the media's darling right now. Swarms of paparazzi follow her around. She's hotter than any celebrity. Getting close to her won't be easy."
"That's why I came to you, isn't it? You've got the professionals. Don't think I don't know the things you've pulled off behind the scenes," Harvey said, his tone now laced with threat.
Goodrich's frown deepened. "Harvey, that's not how you treat a friend."
"Oh, come on," Harvey sneered. "Friends help each other out. You're my friend, right?"
After a brief pause, Goodrich finally sighed and said, "Fine, fine. I'll send someone to tail the reporter. But I'm not promising anything will come of it."
A sinister laugh crackled through the receiver. "That's okay. If nothing comes up... can't you make something up? Use a honey trap. Plant some drugs in her bag. Just like you did before."
"We've never done that. And we're not some shady outfit from the movies," Goodrich replied sternly. "Watch your words, Harvey. Ever heard the saying, 'Calamity comes from the mouth'? One day, you'll say the wrong thing and end up dead in the street."
Harvey kept laughing. His laughter was uglier than crying. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I misspoke. You're a serious agency. Alright then, help me take care of that woman. And speaking of dead in the street... I actually think that'd be a fine ending for her."
With that, Harvey hung up.
Goodrich stared at the phone's busy tone. His brows slowly relaxed, and then a cold sneer appeared on his lips.
"Harvey... I hope you know what the hell you're doing."
He picked up the landline and dialed an internal extension. "Send Paris and Barnhill to my office."
Moments later, two Jewish men walked in. "Boss, what's up?"
Goodrich handed a newspaper to Paris. Barnhill leaned in to see too.
"Damn, it's that fat bastard Harvey. He's in deep shit," Paris whistled.
Goodrich said sternly, "Exactly. Take a look at the article. That woman in the photo—the reporter. I want you two to follow her 24/7. Document everything. If she does anything suspicious, I want it on tape. Got it?"
Barnhill nodded. "Got it. This is Harvey's little counterattack."
"You want us to apply any pressure?" Paris asked.
Goodrich hesitated. "Not for now."
"Understood."
…
Judy had no idea she was now under surveillance. She continued digging into Harvey's past with relentless determination.
Soon, a new report was published—this time, focusing on Harvey's personal legal team.
The article read:
"Among those working for Harvey are the mother-daughter duo, Gloria Allred and Lisa Bloom.
Gloria Allred is a well-known women's rights attorney and an active voice in social issues. But when I asked her about how to obtain sexual harassment records from government departments, she gave no advice. She didn't even mention that her own firm holds several case files related to Harvey.
Though Gloria Allred is known for defending female victims, a large part of her income comes from persuading them to sign settlement agreements.
I later discovered that she had personally helped Harvey negotiate such settlements. Even worse, she lobbied against legislation in California that would've banned private settlements in sexual harassment cases—advocating to keep existing non-disclosure agreements intact.
Her daughter, Lisa Bloom, worked for Harvey at a rate of $895 per hour. When actress McGowan came forward to accuse Harvey, Bloom was the one who handled it.
She emailed Harvey a detailed plan to counter McGowan: flood the internet with negative stories about her, invoke sympathy by referencing Harvey's deceased mother, and establish a gender equality foundation in Harvey's name.
She even suggested partnering with a reputation management company to manipulate Google search results. When people searched 'Harvey Weinstein,' they'd see only positive news. But Google refused the deal."
Reading this, Martin chuckled as he waved the newspaper in his hand.
He hadn't expected Harvey to try to bribe Google into whitewashing his online image. How naive.
Google is my company, he thought. I'm the largest shareholder.
As for the "accidental discovery" Judy mentioned—Martin had provided that information himself. He had passed it along to Eric.
He'd been watching Harvey for years. He'd even bribed insiders. The trove of information he'd accumulated on the so-called "Weinstein family" was staggering.
But he had no intention of dropping it all at once.
No, Martin thought with a smile, it's far more satisfying to slice slowly… one cut at a time.