He saw Carlos in New Orleans. Carlos saw the Zangetty pix. Carlos said "Bravissimo." They schmoozed. They schmoozed Cuba. They launched laments. The CIA shitcanned the Cuban cause. The rank & file Outfit ditto.
Pete still cared. Carlos too. The old crew found new work.
John Stanton was in Vietnam. The CIA was there large. Vietnam was Cuba with gooks. Laurent Guery and Flash Elorde freelanced--right-wing muscle on call. They gigged out of Mexico City. Laurent clipped Reds in Paraguay. Flash clipped Reds in the DR.
Pete and Carlos schmoozed Tiger Kab. Good times in Miami--dope and exile recruitment. Tiger-striped cabs/black-and-gold seats/heroin and la Causa.
They schmoozed the hit. Carlos brought it up. Carlos schmoozed new details. Pete keyed on the pro shooter. Chuck said he was French. Carlos had new details.
Laurent brought him in. Laurent went Francophile. The pro had frog credentials. He was an ex-Indochine hand. He was an ex-Algerian killer.
He tried to kill Charles de Gaulle. He failed. He hated de Gaulle. He waxed homicidal. Let's kill JFK--JFK french-kissed Charlie in Paris.
Carlos waxed mad--Jack Z.'s body washed up--the Dallas paper ran news. Jack's missing guests got bopkes. Jack was dirty. Jack ran a "hideout." Jack's death vibed "gangland job."
The wash-up felt like a fuck-up. The wash-up felt like a No. Junior said "No files." The Boys said "No dope."
Carlos said, "March." You know what I want--kill the safe-house crew.
Pete drove to Dallas. Pete fake-searched for Arden. Pete searched for Betty Mac. He tapped out. That was good. He warned Betty. Betty got smart and ran.
He got a lead on Hank Killiam. Hank was now in Florida. Hank read the Dallas paper. The Jack Z. bit scared him.
Pete called Carlos. Pete reported the lead. Pete kissed some wop ass. They schmoozed. Carlos ragged on Guy B.
Guy drank too much. Guy talked too much. Guy loved his blowhard pal Hank Hudspeth. They boozed too much. They talked too much. They bragged to excess.
Pete said, "I'll clip them." Carlos said, "No." Carlos changed the subject. Hey, Pete--where's that hump Maynard Moore?
Pete said a coon killed him. The DPD was pissed. The Klan kontingent issued a kontract.
Carlos laughed. Carlos howled. Carlos oozed delight.
The hit awed him.
They did it. They got away clean. The safe-house geeks meant shit. Carlos knew it. The hit was a kick. Let's schmooze it and relive it. Let's kill some geeks for conversation.
Pete sipped a Coke. He quit booze last week. Carlos ragged Guy. Carlos despised drunks.
Barb twirled the mike cord. Barb blew a note. Barb threw perspiration off.
Pete watched Barb. Wayne Junior watched him.
Barb gigged late. Pete went home alone.
He called room service. He stood on the terrace and dug on the Strip. He felt cold air swirl.
The phone rang. He grabbed it.
"Yeah?"
"That Pete? You know, the big guy passin' out his number on the west side?"
"Yeah, this is Pete."
"Well, that's good, 'cause I'm calling 'bout that reward."
Pete said, "I'm listening."
"You should be, 'cause Wendell Durfee's in town, and I heard he bought a gun off a craps dealer. And I also heard that Curtis and Leroy just brought in some hair-o-wine."
DOCUMENT INSERT: 1/7/64. Covert tape-recording transcript. Recorded at Hickory Hill, Virginia. Speaking: Doug Eversall, Robert F. Kennedy.
(Background noise/overlapping voices) RFK (conversation in progress): Well, if you think it's essen-- DE: If you wouldn't mind, I'd (background noise/overlapping voices) (Incidental noise. Door slam & footsteps) RFK (conversation in progress): Have been in here. They shed all over the rugs.
DE (coughs): I've got two Airedales.
RFK: They're good dogs. They get along well with children. (Pause: 2.6 seconds) Doug, what is it? You look the way people are telling me I look.
DE: Well.
RFK: Well, what? We're here to set trial dates, remember?
DE (coughs): Well, it's about the President.
RFK: Johnson or my brother?
DE: Your brother. (Pause: 3.2 seconds) It's, well, I don't like the thing with Ruby. (Pause: 1.8 seconds) I don't want to sound out of line, but it bothers me.
RFK: You're saying? (Pause: 2.1 seconds) I know what you're saying. He's got Mob connections. Some reporters have been digging up stories.
DE (coughs): That's the main thing, yes. (Pause: DE coughs) And, well, you know, Oswald allegedly spent some time in New-- RFK: Orleans last summer, and you used to work for the State's Attorney down there.
DE: Well, that's about-- RFK: No, but thanks. (Pause: 4.0 seconds) And you're right about Ruby. He walked in there, he shot him, and he looked relieved as hell that he did it.
DE (coughs): And he's dirty.
RFK (laughs): Cough away from me. I can't afford to lose any more work days.
DE: I'm sorry I brought all this up. You don't need to be reminded.
RFK: Jesus Christ, quit apologizing every two seconds. The sooner people start treating me normally, the better off I'll be.
DE: Sir, I-- RFK: That's a good example. You didn't start calling me "Sir" until my brother died.
DE (coughs): Ijust want to help. (Pause: 2.7 seconds) It's the time-line that bothers me. The hearings, Valachi's testimony, Ruby. (Pause: 1.4 seconds) I used to prosecute homicides with multiple defendants. I learned to trust time-- RFK: I know what you're saying. (Pause: RFK coughs) Factors converge. The hearings. The raids I ordered. You know, the exile camps. The Mob was supporting the exiles, so they both had motives. (Pause: 11.2 seconds) That's what bothers me. If that's what happened, they killed Jack to get at me. (Pause: 4.8 seconds) If that . . . shit . . . they should have killed .
DE (coughs): Bob, I'm sorry.
RFK: Quit apologizing and coughing. I'm susceptible to colds right now.
(DE laughs.) RFK: You're right about the time-line. It's the order of things that bothers me. (Pause: 1.9 seconds) There's another thing, too.
DE: Sir? I mean-- RFK: One of Hoffa's lawyers approached me a few days before Dallas. It was very strange.
DE: What was his name?
RFK: Littell. (Pause: 1.3 seconds) I made some inquiries. He works for Carlos Marcello. (Pause: 2.3 seconds). Don't say it. Marcello is based in New Orleans.
DE: I'd be willing to contact my sources, and-- RFK: No. It's best for the country this way. No trial, no bullshit.
DE: Well, there's the Commission.
RFK: You're being naive. Hoover and Johnson know what's best for the country, and they spell it "Whitewash." (Pause: 2.6 seconds) They don't care. There's the people who care and the people who don't. They're all part of the same consensus.
DE: I care.
RFK: I know you do. Just don't labor the point. This conversation is starting to embarrass me.
DE: I'm sor-- RFK: Jesus, don't start that again.
(DE laughs.) RFK: Will you stay on in Justice? If I resign, I mean.
DE: It depends on the new man. (Pause: 2.2 seconds) Are you going to?
RFK: Maybe. I'm just licking my wounds right now. (Pause: 1.6 seconds) Johnson might put me on the ticket. I'd take it if he asked, and some people want me to run for Ken Keating's senate seat in New York.
DE: I'll vote for you. I've got a summer place in Rhinebeck.
(RFK laughs.) DE: Ijust wish there were something I could do.
RFK: Well, you made me feel better.
DE: I'm glad.
RFK: And you're right. Something about the time-line feels suspicious.
DE: Yes, that's-- RFK: We can't bring my brother back, but I'll tell you this, though. When the--(footsteps obscure conversation)--right I'll jump on it, and devil take the hindmost.
(Door slam & footsteps. Tape terminates here.)
25.
(Los Angeles, 1/9/64)
He bought Jane a wallet. Saks engraved it.
Soft kid. A lowercase "j.f."
Jane fanned the sleeves. "You were right. I showed them my Alabama license, and they gave me a new one right there."
Littell smiled. Jane smiled and posed. She leaned on the window. She jutted a hip out. She blocked off the view.
Littell pulled his chair up. "We'll get you a Social Security card. You'll have all the ID you need."
Jane smiled. "What about a master's degree? You got me the B.A. already."
Littell crossed his legs. "You could go to UCLA and earn one."
"How about this? I could divide my studies between L.A., D.C., and Vegas, just to keep up with my peripatetic lover."
Littell smiled. "Was that a jibe?"
"Just an observation."
"You're getting restless. You're overqualified for a life of leisure."
Jane pirouetted. Jane dipped low and stood on her toes. She was good. She was lithe. She'd studied somewhere.
Littell said, "Some people from the safe house have disappeared. That's good news more than bad."
Jane shrugged. Jane scissored low. Her skirt brushed the floor.
"Where did you learn that?"
Jane said, "Tulane. I audited a dance class, but you won't see it on my transcript."
Littell sat on the floor. Jane scissored up to him.
"I want to find a job. I was a good bookkeeper, even before you improved my credentials."
Littell stroked her feet. Jane wiggled her toes.
"You could find me something at Hughes Aircraft."
Littell shook his head. "Mr. Hughes is very disturbed. I'm working against him on some levels, and I want to keep you out of that side of my life."