THE SHOOTING STARS
Hunched behind the wheel of his shiny new Porsche Cayenne, Francois Navarre drives slowly, watchfully, along Melrose Avenue in West Hollywood. Navarre, a 44-year-old Frenchman, and his American wife, Brandy, own one of the city's major paparazzi agencies, X17 Inc. Former journalists, they now live in one of the city's most desirable enclaves, own several homes and prefer to travel by private jet. Their business acumen has allowed them to share the very lifestyle of the celebrities they chase, sometimes around their own neighborhood.
Although Navarre, who moved to Los Angeles in 1992 as a stringer for the French newspaper Le Monde, doesn't shoot much anymore, he likes to make the rounds to see what his guys are up to. So just west of Robertson Boulevard, he pulls into a parking lot next to the ultra-chic clothing store Maxfield. "That's my guy," he says, pointing at a black Range Rover with tinted windows. "He thinks the car over there, the black one, is one of the Olsen twins'. I don't think it's hers."
His cellphone jangles: "Allo?"
It's Fred, in the Range Rover.
"She has black rims, no?" says Navarre. "You think it's her? Yeah, maybe it is."
We don't stick around to find out. Navarre noses the Porsche back onto Melrose, then turns right on North La Peer Drive, slowing immediately in front of a modern two-story cement building behind Maxfield. This is Brad Pitt's office. Any photograph of Pitt, even without Angelina Jolie or the kids, is valuable. Why? "He's a sex symbol for the entire world!"
In slow, late-afternoon traffic, Navarre cruises down Robertson, past the Ivy, Kitson, Lisa Kline--daytime stations of the cross for celebrities wishing to be noticed. This stretch of the boulevard is awash in cars passing through and civilians toting shopping bags. At least that's how it appears to the untrained eye. With Navarre as tour guide, it becomes clear that we have entered a parallel universe where a high-stakes hunt is underway.
"That guy waiting in the gas station is paparazzi. See there? On the left side, two paps are sitting on the wall. There's one in the black Mercedes here. The one behind him in the blue car is from another agency, but he's my friend." My neck swivels back and forth as I try to take it in.
