The Day John Fitzgerald Kennedy Past. Welby Thomas Cox, Jr.. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Welby Thomas Cox, Jr.
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежная классика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781925880373
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      "Where were the predecessors of James Lesousky to bring fraud charges against these corporate giants, and this honorable law firm? He was no doubt visiting the same watering hole at The Pendenis Club, as was the predecessors of Judge John Heyburn II who conspired with Lesousky to railroad me." I half-yelled.

      "Now cool down there Welby, I thought you had forgiven these evil purveyors of justice?" Hamilton said to me.

      "It makes my skin crawl when I think of either one of them joining the prayer circle. I do not know of anyone who deserves to fry in hell more than these two practitioners of pain and suffering. Except for Kelly Hall, the President of Standard Investment & Credit Corp, that scum-bag who conspired to save his ass, paints his own wagon in red, white and blue." I said.

      "You know under the law which convicted you, a wide swath of the Louisville community and beyond was guilty of fraud. Just think of it, all of the employees at the law firm who in any way touched the transaction where the illegal cash either came in or the payments were sent out of the law firm escrow: The lawyers, the secretaries, clerks, bookkeepers, accountants, the business manager and in the community there were the bank officers at Louisville Trust, Citizens Bank, Royal Bank of Louisville...all those executives were guilty of conspiracy.

      Then the owners of the Marion E. Taylor building from whom the law firm rented space and paid from these ill-gotten gains, the printer, Westerfield-Bonte, the Courier Journal, and the list goes on and on." Hamilton said.

      "Where does it stop?" I asked. "At what point does this legal tender cease to be contaminated?" I asked Hamilton.

      "Under the theory of the government and your case is a perfect example… I would have to say never...how could the tenth generation beneficiary of this ill-gotten gain be less guilty than the second or third generation...do you see where I am going?" He asked.

      Chapter XIV

      THE CODE NAME FOR KENNEDY

      Michael Flynt spoke of Oswald as "the subject" in the same way as he referred to the President as "Lancer" which was the code name assigned to Kennedy by the Secret Service.

      "Now it is my understanding from Ray Ray," Flynt said, "Subject, his wife and baby leave Dallas under the cover of night...they are gone and we know not whence or where?" Flynt said in an angry tone.

      "And then as if by osmosis, he waltzes into the New Orleans office of Guy Banister, the place where the cops would least expect to find him, a staunch supporter of Castro in an extremely hostile hotbed of support for anti-Castro sentiment." Louis Wagner said.

      "Yes, the very same individual who defected to the Soviet Union, went to Japan where he garnered detailed copies of secret documents of the secret spy plane designed by the United States which he delivers to the Russians who promptly shoot down the plane flown by Francis Gary Powers...and then uses a mail-ordered Italian made rifle to take a shot at right wing General Edwin Walker." Flynt said.

      "The kid has brass balls." Wagner said.

      "Yes, or he is a mental case," Flynt said. “I personally believe him to be very dangerous, a calculating nut case and I want nothing to do with him." Flynt said.

      "Well who is going to recruit him?"

      "Give him to Ray Ray; he operates well in that neighborhood." Flynt said.

      "Where is Ray Ray now?" Wagner asked.

      "He left Virginia and drove to Boca Raton."

      "All right, get to Ray Ray, tell him to get the hell over to New Orleans and with the help of Banister, button this guy down immediately. But he and his family in a place where we will always know where they are. Tell Ray Ray to send me a file on the guy; blood sample, finger prints, hand writing sample...photo with rifle and hand gun in a holster...a real live Billy the Kid."

      "You got it boss." Flynt said.

      Louie left the building and walked to his car it was spring and the evening was beautiful, and certain, as it had been last year and the years before coloring the environment with the rules of nature, sending forth an unequivocal order to paint the landscape, to fill the bird nest and to bring harmony and good will to all.

      He thought of that in the context of his job, he had not changed in twenty years. He answered the call each day as does a jonquil at Easter. But his business often involved murder or as a fragment from the psalm-book, not known to the outside world, terminate with extreme prejudice.

      He worried now that Flynt may have an insightful concern over this unstable man. Can the committee be responsible for assisting in the plot which takes a turn for the worst possible occurrence…the intentional killing of the President by a man chosen and instructed to miss the shot?

      A memo he had recently written could not have been more appropriate or timely. This memo concerned the assassination of a foreign leader from philosophical point of view. Clearly if Oswald, a dedicated pro Castro disciple, has its primary protagonist in the cross hairs, it may provide him the opportunity to express his own deranged philosophical view to a killing of this foreign leader from a view on Blue Beach, Cuba.

      Louis knew that he, nor the committee, were at risk for developing the plot. They had enough evidence to be planted on Oswald, like the clippings on the attempts on Castro's life. Flynt would have to get this material into the hands of the press, if something went wrong.

      And once the public saw the attempt on the life of the beloved JFK as a Cuban response to orders by Kennedy for United States intelligence to terminate with extreme prejudice the life of Fidel Castro; Louis was comfortable that the public would demand an invasion and the ultimate return of the Island.

      Guy Banister carried a Colt in a special fitted holster beneath his left arm. It was fully chambered for the 357 Magnum cartridges. He was a cold and ruthless killer. He had brutally shot more than he could remember and his experience taught him that the fights he got into required a heavy piece.

      At sixty years of age, his gun would never fail him but he was not as certain about his body. His heart said no to drinks, no to smoking, retire and enjoy the rest of his life with his beautiful children and grandchild. But Banister had developed these lifelong essential habits and had determined that a bullet would get him before his body failed him. As a police officer he was aware of the "Death by Cop “when a person wanted to end a life, so it was his plan to reverse the call.

      Banister emptied his third shot of Old Frankfort, Kentucky bourbon whose color reminded him of the small marbles he used to shoot as a boy.

      So much time had passed since he ran bare foot down on the Bay...or rather Lake Pontchartrain, threw rocks at the gulls and watched the shrimpers return to the docks with heavy loads and listen to the Cajun fisherman brag about the catch. And then make the trip home and smell the gumbo.

      The Times-Picayune was filled with stores about the civil rights legislation of JFK. Everyone knew this was the handiwork of Bobby Kennedy, an avowed liberal, who had long since been identified with the civil rights movement. Bobby Kennedy had always been the smallest of the boys and although he was quite athletic, he was also an excellent student and was known throughout the clan as "the Nerd."

      Kennedy makes the sixth President since Harry Truman to cave on every encounter or invasion taken on by the President: Eisenhower gave away North Korea; Johnson gave away Vietnam; Carter gave away the Panama Canal; Kennedy gave away Cuba; Clinton gave away our industry under the authority of NAFTA and President Obama has given away sixteen trillion United States Dollars.

      As certain as I write this statement, I know that I am going to be roundly criticized by the liberal press and the bleeding hearts of America. In the next twenty years, white America, as we have known it, will be expunged. Over the past thirty years there has been a systematic social engineering to limit white access to the eastern colleges in the schools of law, medicine and teaching and white athletes are a minority except for quarterbacks. At all colleges throughout the United States a decline in test scores by minorities, especially African/Americans has been corrected by lowering the requirements of those students while decreasing the number of white