As he dialed 911 with a badly shaking hand, he clicked open Mary Smith'smessage with the other. Please, God, no one I know. No one I like.

He began to read, even though everything inside told him not to. He reallycouldn't help himself. Oh, God! Antonia Schifman! Oh, poor Antonia. Oh no, why her?

Anonia was one of the good people, and there weren't too many of those.

To: Antonia Schifman:I guess you could call this anti-fan mail, although I used to be a fan.

Anyhow, 4:30 in the morning is awfully early for a brilliant, three-time academyaward winner and mother of four to leave the house and her children, don't you think? Isuppose it's the price we pay for being who we are. Or at least it's one of them.

I was there this morning to show you another downside of fame and fortune inBeverly Hills.

It was pitch-black dark when the driver came to take you to “the set.” There's asacrifice you make that your fans don't begin to appreciate.

I walked right in the front gates behind the car and followed him up the driveway.

Suddenly, I had the feeling that your driver had to die if I wanted to get to you,but still, there wasn't any pleasure in killing him. I was too nervous for that, shaking likea sapling in a fierce storm.

The gun was actually trembling in my hand when I knocked on his window. I keptit hidden behind my back and told him you'd be down in a few minutes.

“No problem,” he said. And you know what? He barely even looked at me. Whyshould he? You are the star of stars, fifteen million a picture I've read. I was just the maidas far as he was concerned.

It felt like I was playing a bit part in one of your movies, but trust me, I wasplanning to steal this scene.

I knew I had to do something pretty dramatic soon. He was going to wonder whyI was still standing there. I didn't know if I'd be too scared to do it if he actually lookedat me. But then he did - and everything just happened.