What really happened to Gene Hackman?

The quiet Santa Fe home where Gene Hackman, the revered two-time Oscar-winning actor, and his wife Betsy Arakawa, a gifted pianist, lived for over three decades became the scene of an unfolding mystery last week. Found lifeless in separate rooms on Wednesday, the couple’s deaths—occurring at least nine days earlier, on or around February 17—have left friends, family, and authorities grappling with contradictory accounts of their final months, deepening the enigma surrounding their passing.

A Sudden End to a Shared Life

Hackman, 95, and Arakawa, his wife of over 30 years and 30 years his junior, were discovered after a period of unusual silence. Preliminary autopsy findings revealed Hackman’s pacemaker had ceased functioning on February 17, hinting at a sudden collapse—he was found near the home’s entrance, having “suddenly fallen.” Nearby, an open bottle of medication lay beside Arakawa, though no signs of suicide or external trauma were evident. Santa Fe County Sheriff Adan Mendoza ruled out carbon monoxide poisoning last Friday, dispelling early suspicions of a gas leak and leaving the cause of death unresolved pending full toxicology results expected in the coming months.

The couple’s dog, one of their cherished companions, was also found dead, adding to the haunting tableau. As investigators piece together a timeline, a personal calendar seized under a search warrant offers potential clues to their last days, though answers remain elusive.

A Life Withdrawn

Friends who knew the couple intimately described a marked retreat from the world in recent months. Daniel and Barbara Lenihan, longtime confidants, told People that Hackman’s vitality had waned. “Lately, he was pretty much confined to his home,” Daniel said, while Barbara noted that the actor, once a familiar sight pedaling through the neighborhood, had stopped cycling about a year ago. Doug Lenham, a close friend and bistro owner, painted a picture of a devoted partnership, with Betsy ensuring Hackman’s diet stayed wholesome—favoring salmon or halibut over steak. “They were one of the closest couples I’ve ever met,” he told TMZ. “True life partners, reserved yet genuine and amusing.”

Aaron Lenihan, the couple’s son, spoke of Betsy’s tireless care, keeping Hackman engaged with puzzles and Zoom yoga sessions despite his advancing age. “She was protective, especially about COVID, always masked when we saw her outside,” he said, affirming her fitness and vigor. Yet this image of Arakawa’s robust health jars with the reality of her death alongside her husband, deepening the mystery.

In stark contrast, Hackman’s daughter Leslie Ann, one of three children from his first marriage to Fay Maltese, insisted to the Daily Mail that her father was in “very good physical condition” with “no indication of any problem.” Her assertion clashes with the Lenihans’ observations, highlighting a rift in perception—and perhaps contact—between Hackman’s inner circle and his children.

A Growing Disconnect

Leslie Ann admitted she hadn’t spoken to her father in months, a silence mirrored by Arakawa’s lapse in communication with her 91-year-old mother, who suffers from dementia. Keiko, the housekeeper caring for Arakawa’s mother, told the Daily Mail, “Betsy didn’t call for months—she usually would every month or two. The last time was in October. We wondered to ourselves, what happened?” This parallel withdrawal from family, beginning around the same time, suggests the couple had drifted into isolation well before their deaths, a shift that went unnoticed until it was too late.

Legacy and Loss

Hackman, a cinematic titan known for roles in The French Connection and Unforgiven, and Arakawa, his steadfast partner since their 1991 marriage, had crafted a life of quiet companionship in Santa Fe. Their deaths now cast a shadow over that legacy, with unanswered questions fueling speculation. Did Hackman’s health falter more than his daughter knew? Did Arakawa’s devotion lead her to a shared fate?

As the investigation continues, the conflicting voices of those who loved them weave a tapestry of grief, disconnection, and a search for truth in the stillness they left behind.