The Bling Ring (30 page)

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Authors: Nancy Jo Sales

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12

In the early hours of October 23, TMZ trailed Courtney Ames as she was released from Van Nuys Station on $50,000 bond. Courtney looked exhausted; she was wearing an oversized leather jacket (not Paris Hilton's) and keeping her head down.

“Who are the conspirators?” a videorazzo asked, jostling along beside her as Courtney walked across a parking lot to a waiting car. “Who planned it all? You guys only do celebrities' houses?”

“Anything to do with Kourtney Kardashian's place?” a second photographer asked.

Courtney smirked. “You guys are hilarious,” she muttered.

“We just want answers,” said the photographer.

“Sorry. I'm not giving you any,” said Courtney.

That same morning, TMZ followed Alexis Neiers and Tess Taylor as they ran down the stairs from the station. Gabby Neiers was with them, too—in most news reports she was cut out of the picture taken from this moment, perhaps because she hadn't been questioned by police, or perhaps because she was younger, and covered up with clothing. This was the picture that made the Bling Ring hot, with the hot girls with bare midriffs who looked like celebrities, one arrested for burglary and one questioned on suspicion of burglary, one a Playboy model and one a pole dancing instructor, both literally running from the law. It would appear on the cover of the “Sunday Styles” of the
New York Times
and on gossip sites across the blogosphere.

Tess was giggling, kissing Alexis on the forehead as they hurried down the stairs. The girls seemed giddy, overcome by the excitement of the cameras flashing and the swarm of photographers shouting at them. It was their first real taste of tabloid fame.

“How was it inside?” a videorazzo called.

“It was
terrible
!” Alexis said from underneath the scarf she had draped across her face, giving her a refugee look.

“Did you do it for Nick? Did Nick trick you into it?” the videographer asked.

“She did nothing! I
told
you guys!” said Tess, and to Alexis: “Don't talk!”

13

That same day, October 23, the Las Vegas police went back to the home of David Lee to seize a custom-made black mink coat from his daughter's closet. They'd discovered the coat during the warrant service the day before, but hadn't taken it, as they weren't sure if it was stolen. They sent a digital photo of the coat via cell phone to Lindsay Lohan's assistant, who showed it to Lindsay, who confirmed the coat was hers. The police then obtained another search warrant and went back to the house to retrieve the mink.

Rachel was home; she'd only been questioned the previous day and released. (That same day, October 23, Rachel's lawyer, Peter Korn, was in contact with the LAPD. When told by Detective Leanne Hoffman of Rachel's promise to return the victims' stolen property, Korn allegedly said, “If she told you that, I'll make sure that property is returned.”) Rachel's grandmother, Janelle, and her cousin Jennifer were home with her when the police came the second time. It was about 11:30 a.m. when they arrived, guns drawn again and pointed at Rachel and her family.

Rachel “was a little startled,” said Officer Craig Dunn of the Las Vegas Police, “a little surprised that we were there. Once we explained the circumstances and went through our protocol, she seemed to be very cordial toward us. She didn't seem upset. She didn't seem frightened at all.

“It seemed like she was just getting up,” Dunn told the Grand Jury on June 22, 2010, “and she asked if she could use the bathroom. . . . She had asked about putting makeup on. . . .She wanted to put makeup on. And I said, ‘You could,' as in ‘Why? Because TMZ is outside?' And she got all bubbly like it was her birthday.” But the policeman was only teasing her.

“And then I told her [TMZ] really
wasn't
[outside],” Dunn said. “There was no news there, and her whole body motion went from up to down. . . . She was under the impression that there would be media there.”

When Rachel found out that there was not, Dunn said, “She was very upset. She was sad. Just the whole look [on her face was] similar to just a child not getting a present.”

14

A partial list of what the LAPD reported it recovered in the search warrants: “Pearl-style necklace, several rings with yellow metal and white stones, a ring with white metal and green stones, a ring with yellow metal and red stones, a ring with yellow metal and green and white stones, a Marc Jacobs purse, a Louis Vuitton purse, 2 Chanel purses, 1 Hermes purse, a Steve Madden shopping bag, a Blackberry Edge cell phone and an LG cell phone, 4 pairs of BCBG and Marc Fisher heels, a pair of True Religion pants (which are connected to Rachel Bilson), 2 bottles of Paris Hilton perfume, 2 bottles of Chanel perfume, an Apple laptop, Gucci eyeglasses, Chanel eyeshadow, a Chanel makeup brush, Dior mascara, a Mexican passport, and a Washington State driver's license.”

15

On October 24, two days after she was arrested, Alexis spoke to TMZ.

“I know for a fact Nick did all of these burglaries,” Alexis told the gossip site. “He did every single burglary, he told me this after the police let him go. Nick is blaming people, trying to get the blame off himself. . . . Rachel Lee was his main accomplice and they brought Diana Tamayo into this. Diana, Nick, and Rachel did the burglaries together. Roy Lopez was the one who sold the stuff they had taken . . . and he's friends with Courtney Ames and that's why she was arrested. The only reason they came to my house was because they thought I was holding property for Nick; they even searched my house and found nothing. I'm innocent in all of this and feel terrible for all the people who got robbed.”

The post was accompanied by a black-and-white photo of Alexis looking sultry, provided by Alexis.

“Put all these RATS in jail until they rot to death,” one of the comments on the post said. “Several years behind bars will make them squirm. Vermin. Nasty foul vermin.”

Another commenter took a more radical view: “Take that Hollywood! I hope you have enjoyed your days in the sun . . . These modern-day Robin Hoods shall all be found innocent and released to lash the backs of those who have trod upon the backs of such peasants as we, heroes, every last one!”

16

On October 26, Nick met with Brett Goodkin again at Sean Erenstoft's office in order to return more stolen property. This was the second load of goods Nick would give back to the police. He had already returned a TV and DVD player he had stolen from Rachel Bilson; luggage he had rolled out of Audrina Patridge's house; artwork and luggage he had stolen from Lindsay Lohan; the iMac computer he had taken from Nick DeLeo; and clothing he had stolen from Orlando Bloom. Now, he gave back some jewelry he said he'd removed from Lindsay Lohan's house and a Rolex watch he had taken from Brian Austin Green.

“Prugo opened the meeting by apologizing profusely for not mentioning the burglary of Brian Austin Green and Megan Fox's residence,” said the LAPD's report. Goodkin said, “He was legitimately sobbing.”

“Prugo explained that he was fearful that because he . . . had stolen a firearm from Green's residence and sold it to [Jonathan] Ajar,” the LAPD's report went on. “Prugo also explained that after she posted bond, Ames called him and stated that she had spoken with Ajar and [he] told her to forward a threat to Prugo. Ames stated to Prugo that he should leave town because Ajar was going to send people to Prugo's home, tie up, torture and eventually kill Prugo's entire family as Prugo watched.”

(Ames' and Ajar's lawyers, Robert Schwartz and Michael Goldstein, had no comment.)

17

By the time I met Nick, in December 2009, he was already famous; or infamous, sort of. A picture of him walking along looking jaunty, wearing aviator shades and a trucker hat, had appeared on the cover of the “Sunday Styles” section of
New York Times
. (“Going for the Bling,” the paper said. “Were teenagers too enthralled by stars?”) Another picture of Nick wearing a ski cap and flashing his megawatt smile had appeared on page 5 of the
New York Post
. (“Rachel Lee, above with fellow suspect Nicholas Prugo, is accused of masterminding the thefts. . . .”) The
Los Angeles Times
had done five stories on the burglaries and given the crew its catchy name. (“ ‘Bling ring' confession helped break celebrity burglary case . . .”) TMZ had been relentless, posting items almost daily, including the video of Nick doing a stripper-style dance in his bedroom to “Drop It Low.” (“Miss Thang . . . Go girl!!” a commenter teased. “His parents failed,” said another.)

After many inquiries, Sean Erenstoft finally said that Nick would talk to me; he wanted to tell his story, Erenstoft said, in order to “clear his name.” “He's being called a rat, and that's unfortunate,” the lawyer said, “because all these kids are ratting on each other.”

I was invited to dinner at Erenstoft's house in Encino, in the Valley, one coldish night in December. It was a large modern house with modern furniture and a bright, open living room with high ceilings; there was a fire crackling in the fireplace. Erenstoft's girlfriend, the one who came with him to Nick's hearings, was there with her two little boys. We had a conversation in the kitchen about being single moms while I helped her set the table and make a salad. She and Erenstoft had been dating for less than a year, she said, but she was very sure of him, and that's why she was comfortable involving him in her children's life. She mentioned a couple of times how successful he was.

All the while, Nick sat nearby at the dining room table, smiling from time to time while he drank a soda. A couple of times he went out on the back patio to smoke a cigarette. He struck me as different than he looked in pictures. He was the same angular kid with thinning hair; but there was something about him that photographs didn't capture. In pictures he looked like a party boy, always posing with pretty girls draped around him, kissing him, sticking their tongues in his ear. In person he seemed nervous, as if he were trying to keep from jumping out of his skin. Maybe it was the effect of having been charged with eight counts of residential burglary and potentially facing 16 to 48 years in prison. His dark eyes glittered with anxiety. He was very thin. His barely concealed jitteriness and thinness struck me as being reminiscent of a drug addict, but I didn't know he was struggling with addiction yet. He wore a plain white button-down and jeans. He seemed to want to make a good impression.

After dinner we went and sat on the living room couch. I took my tape recorder out. Erenstoft lay on the floor with his girlfriends' kids, playing a board game, while she was in the kitchen, cleaning up.

“Why did you agree to be interviewed?” I asked Nick.

“The media writes all these things, puts judgment on what happened,” he said, in a way that was both tense and calm; he had a surprisingly deep voice for such a skinny kid. “I'd like everyone to know the real truth and not to cover up anything I've done or anyone else has done. Everyone is guilty of something.”

I asked him how they all knew each other—he, Rachel, Courtney, Diana, and the others allegedly in the burglary ring. He talked about meeting them and the trouble in school that had sent him to Indian Hills. He talked about how he had always felt that he was “ugly.”

“And now you're a star,” I said.

He laughed. “On my Facebook page recently I had eight hundred friend requests,” he said. “I accepted them all. I didn't even look at them. Then I noticed someone had created a fan page for me. . . .I start getting these messages from these fourteen-year-old girls. ‘You're so hot. I wish I was part of the Burglar Bunch. I love you.' Just like insane stuff. And this girl's like messaging me, ‘I made a fan page for you. You have like 50 fans.' And then I looked at it and lo and behold, I have a fan page.

“ ‘I wish I was part of the Burglar Bunch?' ” I said.

“If it had been for something good or something I had done to help the community or benefit something I'd love it,” Nick said, “but it's just kind of awkward for me that these people are loving me for something that's looked down on in society. It's kind of showing that America has some sick fascination with a Bonnie and Clyde kind of thing. And then I have pedophiles that are trying to, you know—it's kind of disturbing and I delete that obviously. But it's weird. People are fascinated with me.”

I asked him about his family.

“I don't really want to talk about my family,” he said. “They're so supportive and so wonderful; everyone wants to blame the family or the parents or the upbringing. My family's been so great; I can't even blame them. Whatever I've done, it's been me. My family's always been there to support and motivate me. It was me and my own issues; it definitely wasn't my family, it was my issues with me as a person.”

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