Читать книгу The Patsy Returns - J. Thomas Ford - Страница 4

I wanted to know what happened after he was shot by Jack Ruby. The old man took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying his best to remember.

“I don’t remember much, because I lost consciousness and nearly died. I received medical attention and a doctor removed the bullet and brought me back to life. The next thing I knew two Federal agents whisked me away, brought me to an airport and gave me a shot. I remember one of the agents saying something about a long flight and it would be better if I were able to sleep most of the way. It would help the healing process. I didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but he seemed to have some kind of medical expertise. Besides, what choice did I have? I was in pain and closing my eyes seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Later, they told me that I slept all the way to Italy, and when I finally woke up we were in a hospital, surrounded by a dozen nurses and just as many doctors, all discussing my condition.”

“Do you recall what they were saying?”

“I’m not sure. They were speaking Italian and when they switched to English they were talking so fast I could only pick up a word here and there.”

“As they were wheeling me down the hall toward the operating room, the one thought that came to me just before I passed out again was that, at the very least, I was in the hands of professionals, and they seemed to be doing their best to save my life, which was more than I could say for the people back in Dallas.”

I woke up a few hours later and a nurse was hovering over me. She had white hair and bad breath that smelled of garlic. Her English was more than adequate.

“You’re okay now, Mr. Smith.” Mr. Smith, I thought, who the hell was Mr. Smith? But, then I realized that was the name the agents must have given the staff when they brought me to the hospital. This nurse was busy making sure that I was getting the right amount of fluids into my body. It was then that I realized that I must have gone through an operation of some kind, but I remembered nothing about it. I was thinking of asking her when she spoke up.

“Your associates told us that you are a Federal Agent, that your wounds occurred in the line of duty and that you’re a hero, Mr. Smith. Did you remember any of the details?”

Not sure how to react, I simply nodded. Then, I mumbled something lame, not knowing what to say or how to say it.

“When they first brought you into the hospital we thought you were going to die. If Dr. Stark had not been here, I’m fairly certain you would have.”

“Dr. Stark?”

“Yes, probably the best Surgeon in all of northern Italy. He just happened to be here today to look in on another patient he operated on a few days ago. When they brought you in and he saw your deteriorating condition he asked if we could use his help. You’re a lucky man, Mr. Smith, for I truly believe you would be dead now if it weren’t for his skill with a scalpel.”

“Do me a favor and thank the doctor for me, please.”

“I certainly will, but I believe he’ll be checking in on you in the next day or so and you can thank him yourself.”

I nodded. Maybe my luck was changing, after all?

That would be a first.

“How long did it take you to fully recover from the operation, Mr. Oswald?” I asked.

“Operations,” he said. There were two of them, one to make sure there were no leftover bullet fragments and the second one to stop some bleeding that occurred as a result of the first operation.”

“Okay.”

“As for my recovery, it took almost a month for me to begin to feel like my old self. I slept most of that time. Then, one day, the nurse came in and said I was being released. I had no idea what that meant, because I had not seen any of my bodyguards for days. Apparently, they were there, but they were staying out of sight.”

“What happened next?” I asked.

He sighed. His eyes were closed, as he was doing his best to remember back to that day.

“Two agent’s came into my room and told me we were leaving. Before I could complain, they had strapped me in a wheelchair and placed me into a van. We drove for two hours on bad roads and ended up at a remote farmhouse about one hundred and seventy-five miles away.”

“Then what?” I wanted to know.

“After a good nights sleep and a hearty, but rushed breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon, the agents all left the room, leaving me with the man who was obviously in charge. I believe his name was Walter? I was sitting at the table, finishing up my coffee and he was doing the same.

“I want to ask you a question, Lee, and I want you to think long and hard on your answer because it may determine what happens to you the rest of your life.” He was being quite serious and in his tone I thought I felt a sense of a threat.

“Let’s just call it more like an ultimatum.”

I looked up at him.

“An ultimatum?”

“You heard me.” I had the feeling the past month or so that everything was going to be okay, but now he had me wondering?”

“Let me ask you a question.” He took a moment to sweep away some crumbs. “Do you think I care about what happens to you?”

“I’m not all that sure, but I was hoping...”

“Don’t bother, Lee. I’m here to tell you that the only reason you are still alive is that someone high up on the food chain told me to keep you alive. I want you to know that if the decision were mine you would already have been history. If you want to go on living you must keep your mouth shut and do what you are told...and...” Here he hesitated for a moment. “if you don’t, I will come and find you and shut you up once and for all. Do you understand what I am saying to you, Lee?”

I nodded. Clearly a threat, I thought to myself.

“That sounds to me like they were trying to buy your silence, Lee.”

“That’s the way it sounded to me too, but honestly, I thought I would have been dead already.”

“Why didn’t they just shoot you?”

“To this day, I don’t know?”

“What happened after that?” I asked.

“Walter told me I had a choice. Then, he pulled a contract out of his jacket and placed a pen down on top of it. He tapped on the two page agreement and said, very seriously, that my life depended on my signing this agreement. Then, he left me alone and said he’d be back in fifteen minutes.”

“Did you have any say in the matter?”

“None that I could see.”

“What did the contract say?” Timothy asked. He closed his eyes again, but then he shook his head back and forth.

“I forget the exact wording. But basically, it said that I would be taken care of for the rest of my life, but only if I did what I was told.”

“Are you kidding?”

“That was my reaction too. I thought this was some kind of joke being played on me, but Walter was being absolutely serious.”

After a moment, I asked, “is that all?”

“No, the best was yet to come. Walter reached down and put a leather briefcase on the table, opened it with a key he had in his jacket pocket, looked at the contents and turned it around and shoved it in my direction.”

“What was in it, Lee?”

“Fifty thousand dollars in crisp one hundred dollar bills right off the printing press. I must have had a confused look on my face, but Walter changed that into a smile when he told me that there was more where this came from, but that I had to wait until all the paperwork was completed and the account was set up in my name.”

We both sat there for a moment without saying another word. Lee reached for the water pitcher that sat in between us, took a sip and went on with the rest of his story.

“Later that day one of the agents came in and placed a picture of an Italian villa down in front of me and asked me what I thought?”

“About what?” I wanted to know.

“Could you live there?” It was beautiful.

“Yes, of course, why?”

“We’ve made arrangements with the owner for you to live there. For a few months, one of my men will be staying with you, but after that you will be on your own.”

“Where was this villa?”

“In Northern Italy, near the Swiss border.”

“How long did you stay there?”

“One year. After that, I couldn’t take it anymore. It was too isolated for me. I needed to be closer to a city.”

“Is that where you live now, in a city?”

“I can’t tell you that, Timothy.”

“What about the money?”

“That money is long gone but, I am now receiving a full government pension and I have all the money I will ever need.”

“How do you explain that to someone who might ask where all this money came from?”

“That only happened once and I told them I was a retired government agent.”

“And if they inquired as to what kind of work you did for the government?”

“I told them it was classified, and that I could not talk about it.”

I looked down at my notes. I wanted to go back to the contract.

“All right. Were there any particulars of that contract you can remember?”

He hesitated, probably wondering what he should or should not tell me. Finally, Lee said.

“They told me I had to keep my mouth shut.”

“Keep your mouth shut about what?”

“About everything, the assassination, the people who were in on it, how it happened, the whole ball of wax.”

“For how long?” I asked.

“Fifty years.”

“Fifty years! That’s a hell of a long time.”

I thought about that for a moment.

“Then, why are you here now? That contract doesn’t expire until twenty-thirteen,” I said, using my fingers to figure out the numbers. He smiled in an unusual way.

“Look at me, Timothy,” he said. “How much longer do you think I have to live?”

He had a point.

“Look, I want to get my story out before the inevitable happens. I can’t wait any longer. I might not be around two years from now. That’s why I got in contact with you, Timothy.”

“Why me?” I wanted to know.

“I have a subscription to your magazine. I’ve read most of your work and I believe you might want to know what actually happened that day?”

“I do, of course.” He nodded.

“I thought so.”

“Does anyone know you are here?”

He glanced around and gave me a look that seemed to imply, are you kidding?

“Just you...I hope.”

A moment later, he added,

“I haven’t been in touch with them for years.”

“Are they still paying you?”

“Once a month, like clockwork.”

“How does the money come?”

“It is deposited into my Swiss bank account.”

“What do you think would happen if they found out you were here?”

“Worst case scenario? I suppose I could end up dead. But, something tells me that’s not going to happen.”

He was probably right about that, for two reasons that I could think of on the spot. Number one, they’re all retired, maybe even dead, and the second reason is that no one cares anymore about what happened in Dealy Plaza.

We decided to take a five minute break.

The first thing I wanted to do was reassure him.

“I’m on your side, Lee.”

“Good, all I want to do is to get my version of the events out there for the American people so they can make the right decision about what happened that day.”

“And I want to help you do that, Lee, but you must understand that this magazine is part of the media and whatever comes of your story is going to be questioned, especially by those in power who are still spouting all the garbage that was initiated by the Warren Commission. So, what I am saying is that I must be as objective as I can possibly be and maybe even allow the Warren Commission Apologist’s to have their say in answer to what you are saying. If I have to do that, I can tell you that it will be loathsome for me, but as the owner of this magazine I will do what I have to do, even when I know that these people will be spouting their usual lies.”

Oswald stood up and went over to the window that looks out onto Broadway and didn’t say anything for a moment or two. I could see that he was anxious, even sweating a little.

I have to remember that this was not a young man and I had best be careful. I didn’t want him having a heart attack in my office. God forbid.

He sat back down.

“Slow down, Lee. Take your time and tell me all about it, step by step, as it comes into your head.” In the middle of the coffee table was water and a bowl of fruit. I poured him a glass of water and pushed the bowl of fruit (with apples, oranges and tangerines) in his direction.

“Thank you,” he said. He raised his glass and took a long drink. I waited until he put the glass back down on the table. He took a deep breath.