A father with his children in a Greenwich Village playground. A disheveled man hovering around the lone A.T.M. in a grocery store, withdrawing the exact sum of $200, over and over, for an hour. A guy texting his buddy to invite him over to watch the Knicks game at his apartment.
The text message would be the last known communication fromPhilip Seymour Hoffman, whose last hours and days were a jerking and complicated blend of business, socializing, furtive drug deals and, finally, what appeared to be a fatal overdose of heroin: His cold, lifeless body was found Sunday morning on a bathroom floor, a needle still stuck in his arm.
He died, by all accounts, an addict’s death, with periods of outward normalcy interrupted by erratic behavior. Shooting a blockbuster film. Business meetings. Ballgames. Binge drinking. Drug buys.
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