|Full Name||Peter Dreyfuss|
|Home||Vinewood Hills, Los Santos|
Peter Dreyfuss was, by the early 1970s, involved in the film industry in Vinewood, likely as a producer or director, and worked with David Richards at the Richards Majestic film studios. In the early 1970s he slowly tortured and murdered rising film star Leonora Johnson before sending 'mementos' to her family members. He later wrote a four page letter of confession to David Richards, who already knew of the murder, to explain he 'had to kill her' for artistic purposes: to gain a better perspective on suffering. The murder of Leonora Johnson, however, took place after Dreyfuss and Richards had paid hookers in Mexico to stab each other.
David Richards later ripped the letter into fifty pieces, which scattered across Los Santos and Blaine County resulting in the murder going unsolved. Dreyfuss continued to goad the family into further suffering for years. His career continued, despite his reluctance to work with David's son Solomon, and his success earned him a spot on the Walk of Fame and a home in Vinewood Hills. In 2013, however, all fifty letter pieces are collected by the protagonists of Grand Theft Auto V: Michael De Santa, Franklin Clinton and Trevor Philips. One of the protagonists later visits Dreyfuss in his home and has the opportunity to kill or spare him.
March 15th, 1975
ATTN; David Richards
My Dear David,
Listen, I know you're a little offended by your discover of me ‘petit indiscretion' as the French would say, but I want you to understand –that's all it is – a little indiscretion. I agree whole heartedly with you – my actions were a little inhumane. But that's not a bad thing. Inhumanity is the very watchword, the very currency, the very life blood of the artist! My inhumanity makes me human. It's thanks to my inhumanity that I'm able to speak to people with the moral authority of the sinner and the creator, all at once. I had to kill her. And I had to do it in that way. The way that would hurt me most – by torturing her slowly and painfully, then sending mementos from our date to her family.
And in the years since, I've had to, at times, goad her family into further suffering. Just to prove how very much I understand suffering and how I can represent it best as an artist – isn't it better that one family suffers so the world can be free to enjoy, to learn and to be cleansed by my masterpieces? Don't even bother answering that. The answer is obvious and if you get it wrong, well, then you're less of a man than I though.
But let us not concern ourselves with such trivialities – we are artists, my friend. The last of a dying breed. I dread the day when you finally retire and Solomon takes over – sure I the kid but he's a remorseless hack with none of your passion, your creative zeal. He's a weak livered moralizer hiding in the body of Vinewood decadent.
He understands nothing about why we at as we do! Not because we can, but because we must. And that's the thing. Some people take advantage of their position in this town for pleasure – as if sleeping with multiple young girls, or torturing hitchhikers or eating dogs could ever be fun? It's awful. I only do it to experience it so my art is truer, deeper, more meaningful, and I believe you know that.
I cannot wait for you to read my new draft of LEARED. I have really removed the cliches that ruined Shakespeare's plays and found the power, the moment, the thing we talked about that wonderful night in Mexico when we paid the hookers to stab each other.
Anyway, I hope you and Rachel have worked through your problems. I look forward to making Friday supper again soon. You've always been an inspiration to me.
Your dear friend