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JFK (1991)

by Oliver Stone and Zachary Sklar.
Based on the books by Jim Garrison "On the Trail of the Assasins" and Jim Marrs "Crossfire: The Plot That Killed Kennedy".
Final script.

More info about this movie on



Credits run in counterpoint through a 7 to 10 minute sequence of
documentary images setting the tone of John F. Kennedy's Presidency and
the atmosphere of those tense times, 1960 through 1963.  An omniscient
narrator's voice marches us through in old time Pathe' newsreel fashion.

	January, 1961 - President Dwight D. Eisenhower's
	Farewell Address to the Nation -


	The conjunction of an immense military
	establishment and a large arms industry is new
	in the American experience.  The total influence
	- economic, political, even spiritual - is felt
	in every city, every statehouse, every office of
	the Federal Government ... In the councils of
	government we must guard against the acquisition
	of unwarranted influence, whether sought or
	unsought, by the military industrial complex.
	The potential for the disastrous rise of
	misplaced power exists and will persist ... We
	must never let the weight of this combination
	endanger our liberties or democratic processes.
	We should take nothing for granted ...


School kids reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.  WPA films of farmers
harvesting the Texas plains.  Rain, thunderheads, a dusty car coming
from far away on a road moving towards Dallas.  Cowboys round up the
cattle.  Young marrieds in a church.  Hillsides of tract homes going up.
The American breadbasket, the West.  Over this we hear Eisenhower's
address.  As we move into the election campaign of 1960, we see the TV
debates, Nixon vs. Kennedy, Mayor Daley, Kennedy victorious ...

Against this is juxtaposed other forces: segregation, J. Edgar Hoover,
military advisors, Castro, Marilyn Monroe, Lumumba ... three frames of
the Zapruder film counter-cut ... ending with the Kennedy inauguration
and the irony of Earl Warren administering the oath as he will Kennedy's

	November, 1960 - Senator John F. Kennedy of
	Massachusetts wins one of the narrowest election
	victories in American history over the Vice-
	President Richard Nixon by a little more than
	100,000 votes.  Rumors abound that he stole the
	election in Illinois through the Democratic
	political machine of Mayor Daley ...
		(inauguration shots)
	At his inauguration, at a time when American
	males all wore hats, he let his hair blow free
	in the wind.  Alongside his beautiful and
	elegant wife of French origin, Jacqueline
	Bouvier, J.F.K. is the symbol of the new freedom
	of the 1960's, signifying change and upheaval to
	the American public, scaring many and hated
	passionately by some.  To win the election and
	to appease their fears, Kennedy at first takes a
	tough Cold War stance.


The beach, the bombardment, the rounding up of prisoners, Kennedy's
public apology, Allen Dulles standing next to J.F.K., both uncomfortable
with the small talk ...

	He inherits a secret war against the Communist
	Castro dictatorship in Cuba, a war run by the
	CIA and angry Cuban exiles out of bases in the
	Southern United States, Panama, Nicaragua and
	Guatemala.  Castro is a successful revolutionary
	frightening to American business interests in
	Latin America - companies like Cabot's United
	Fruit, Continental Can, and Rockefeller's
	Standard Oil.  This war culminates in the
	disastrous Bay of Pigs invasion in April 1961,
	when Kennedy refuses to provide air cover for
	the exile brigade.  Of the 1600 men who invade,
	114 are killed, 1200 are captured.  The Cuban
	exiles and the CIA are furious at Kennedy's
	irresolution ... Kennedy, taking public
	responsibility for the failure, privately claims
	the CIA lied to him and tried to manipulate him
	into ordering an all-out American invasion of
	Cuba.  He vows to splinter the CIA into a
	thousand pieces and fires Director Allen Dulles,
	Deputies Charles Cabell and Richard Bissell, the
	top leadership of the Agency.


Cuban rallies, footage of training camps, espionage activities, boats,
cases of weapons, Robert Kennedy ... John Roselli, Sam Giancana, Santos
Trafficante, Richard Helms (the new CIA chief), Bill Harvey, Head of
ZR/RIFLE, Howard Hunt ...

	The CIA, however, continues it's secret war on
	Castro with dozens of sabotage and assassination
	attempts under it's ZR/RIFLE and MONGOOSE
	programs - The Agency collaborates with
	organized crime elements such as John Roselli,
	Sam Giancana, and Santos Trafficante of Tampa,
	whose casino operations in Cuba, worth more than
	a hundred million dollars a year in income,
	Castro has shut down.


Khrushchev, Kennedy, Castro on television, meetings with Cabinet,
Russian vessels in Caribbean, U.S. nuclear bases on alert, civilians
going to underground safe areas ... the Russian ship turning around, the
country smiling ...

	In October 1962, the world comes to the brink of
	nuclear war when Kennedy quarantines Cuba after
	announcing the presence of offensive Soviet
	nuclear missiles 90 miles off American shores.
	The Joint Chiefs of Staff and the CIA call for
	an invasion.  Kennedy refuses.  Soviet ships
	with more missiles sail towards the island, but
	at the last moment turn back.  The world
	breathes with relief but backstage in
	Washington, rumors abound that J.F.K. has cut a
	secret deal with Russian Premier Khrushchev not
	to invade Cuba in return for a Russian
	withdrawal of missiles.  Suspicions abound that
	Kennedy is "soft on Communism."


Closing down Cuban Camps, McNamara speaking, Khrushchev and Kennedy, the
"hot line" telephone system inaugurated, Kennedy with Jackie and
children sailing off Cape Cod ... Vietnam introduction, early shots,
Green Berets, counterinsurgency programs, De Lansdale, leading up to the
Test Ban signings ... then J.F.K. at American University, June 10, 1963.

	In the ensuing months, Kennedy clamps down on
	Cuban exile activities, closing training camps,
	restricting covert operations, prohibiting
	shipment of weapons out of the country.  The
	covert arm of the CIA nevertheless continues its
	plan to assassinate Castro ... In March '63,
	Kennedy announces drastic cuts in the defence
	budget.  In November 1963, he orders the
	withdrawal by Christmas of the first 1000 troops
	of the 16,000 stationed in Vietnam.  He tells
	several of his intimates that he will withdraw
	all Vietnam troops after the '64 election,
	saying to the Assistant Secretary of State,
	Roger Hilsman, "The Bay of Pigs has taught me
	one, not to trust generals or the CIA, and two,
	that if the American people do not want to use
	American troops to remove a Communist regime 90
	miles from our coast, how can I ask them to use
	troops to remove a Communist regime 9.000 miles
	away?" ... Finally, in August 1963, over the
	objections of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the
	United States, Great Britain and the Soviet
	Union sign a treaty banning nuclear bomb tests
	in the atmosphere, underwater and in space ...
	Early that fateful summer, Kennedy speaks of his
	new vision at American University in Washington.

	What kind of peace do we seek?  Not a pax
	Americana enforced on the world by American
	weapons of war ... we must re-examine our own
	attitudes towards the Soviet Union ... If we
	cannot now end our differences at least we can
	help make the world safe for diversity.  For, in
	the final analysis, our most basic link is that
	we all inhabit this small planet.  We all
	breathe the same air.  We all cherish our
	children's future.  And we are all mortal ...


Diplomats at the United Nations ... Adlai Stevenson, Castro ... Martin
Luther King and the March on Washington (a snatch of his "I Have a
Dream" speech) ... Bobby Kennedy and Jimmy Hoffa going at it ... U.S.
Steel Chairman's remarks in the steel face-off, men going to courtrooms
with briefcases, ... Teddy Kennedy, Rose, Joe, the Kennedy family, all
teeth and good looks ... and of course John campaigning, always
campaigning, shaking hands, smiling, that supremely warm smile and sense
of grace and ability to convey to crowds their oneness with him ...
forever ... culminating in the more specific Texas shots ... with Jackie
in San Antonio, and Houston ... then at Fort Worth ... then at Love
Field moving through the clouds toward the Dallas/Forth Worth plain
which suddenly breaks into view as we descend ...


A moving car carrying two Cuban males disgorges a rumpled, screaming
woman, Rose Cheramie, a whore in her thirties, lying there bleeding in
the dirt.  The car drives off.


We see Rose, badly cut but quite lucid, trying to reason with a
policeman, Lt. Fruge, and a doctor - in a remote black-and-white

	They're going up to Dallas ... to whack Kennedy.
	Friday the 22nd, that's when they're going to do
	it.  In Dealey Plaza.  They're gonna whack him!
	You gotta call somebody, these are serious
	fuckin' guys.

		(to the police officer)
	Higher 'n a kite on something.  Been like this
	since she came in.


We see the last close-ups of Kennedy shaking hands on the tarmac at Love
Field, smiling, into the motorcade ... the downtown streets of Dallas,
people packing the sidewalks clear back to the buildings, hanging out of
windows ten stories up, schoolgirls surging out into the street in front
of the car.  The President is wildly popular - except for the occasional
posters calling for his arrest for treason ...

	More rumors emerge of J.F.K.'s backdoor efforts
	outside usual State Department and CIA channels
	to establish dialogue with Fidel Castro through
	contacts at the United Nations in New York.
	Kennedy is seeking change on all fronts.  Bitter
	battles are fought with Southern segregationists
	to get James Meredith into the University of
	Mississippi.  Three months after Kennedy submits
	a sweeping civil rights bill to Congress, Martin
	Luther King leads 250,000 in a march on
	Washington.  Robert Kennedy, as Attorney
	General, for the first time ever vigorously
	prosecutes the Mafia in American life, bringing
	and winning a record number of cases - 288
	convictions of organized crime figures including
	13 grand juries against Jimmy Hoffa and his
	Teamsters Union.  The President also takes on
	Big Business, forcing back steel prices, winning
	45 of 46 antitrust cases during 1963 and he
	wants to help everyday taxpayers by ending age-
	old business privileges like the oil depletion
	allowance and the fees paid to the Federal
	Reserve Bank for printing America's currency.
	Revolutionary changes are foreseen after
	J.F.K.'s assumed re-election in 1964.  Foremost
	in the political consciousness of the country is
	the possibility of a Kennedy dynasty.  Robert
	Kennedy in '68, Teddy Kennedy in '76.  In
	November, 1963 John Kennedy travels to Texas,
	his popularity sagging to 59% largely due to his
	civil rights stand for which he is particularly
	hated in the South.  Texas is a crucial state
	for him to carry in '64.  With him is Vice-
	President, Lyndon Johnson and Texas Governor
	John Connally.  On November 21, they visit
	Houston and San Antonio.  On the morning of
	November 22, he speaks in Fort Worth, then flies
	15 minutes to Love Field in Dallas, where he
	takes a motorcade through downtown Dallas on his
	way to speak at 12:30 at the International Trade
	Mart.  Later, the motorcade takes him through
	Dealey Plaza at 12:30 ...


We see a massive overhead shot of the Plaza as it lay then.  Credits
conclude under shot - and we have the subtitle "November 22, 1963."

A young epileptic screams and suddenly collapses near the fountains in
front of the Texas School Depository.  He has a violent epileptic fit
that attracts surrounding attention.  Dallas policemen run over to him.
We hear the siren of an ambulance roaring up.

TIMECUT TO ambulance loading the epileptic man and taking off.

	We are en route to Parkland.

BACK TO a montage of the shooting.  We see Kennedy, in the last seconds,
waving, turning the corner at Houston from Main ... We see TV footage
and a piece of Zapruder film from before the shooting; fragmented images

CUT TO stages shots of crowd people looking on.  The images are grainy
to match the tone of the Zapruder film.  People are on rooftops,
hollering.  The crowd is wild with enthusiasm.  We pan past Jack Ruby
and slam into him in black-and-white.  The camera shows a Cuban man with
a radio; a man with an umbrella; subliminals.  Through open windows on
the fifth floor of the Criminal Courts Building, convicts watch and
holler from their jail cells.  We see the sixth floor of the Texas Book
Depository with open windows and a vague blur of a figure and a rifle.
The clock on the Hertz sign reads 12:30.

	We'll be there in about five minutes.

A motorcycle officer paralleling the Kennedy car tries to use his radio.
It's jammed.  The sound of the jammed Dictabelt drives the rest of the

We see Zapruder, a short middle - aged man, shooting his 8mm film from
the Grassy Knoll, and then we see Jackie Kennedy - floating on film, her
voice, high, soft:

		(voice restaged)
	And in the motorcade, you know I usually would
	be waving mostly to the left side and he was
	waving mostly to the right, which is one reason
	you're not looking at each other very much.  And
	it was terribly hot.  Just blinding all of us
	... We could see a tunnel in front of us.
	Everything was really slow then.  And I remember
	thinking it would be so cool under that tunnel.

The camera rests on Jackie for a beat, and then we see the shot of the
little schoolgirl skipping on the grass.

CUT TO the approaching overpass.  J.F.K. waves ... Mrs. Connally turns
to J.F.K.  The shot is crazy, fractured, surreal.

	Mr. President, you can't say that Dallas doesn't
	love you.

		JFK (V.O.)
	No, you certainly can't.

Then we hear the shots: the volley sounds like a motorcycle backfire.
We catch a glimpse of a muzzle flash and smoke.  We see a view from the
street of the Texas School Book Depository - all in line with the
"official" version of events.  Pigeons by the hundreds suddenly shoot
off the roof.  Then the screen goes gray as did CBS TV's first bulletins
to the country.

		(full screen)
	We interrupt this program to bring you this
	flash bulletin.  A burst of gunfire!  Three
	bursts of gunfire, apparently from automatic
	weapons, were fired at President Kennedy's
	motorcade in downtown Dallas.

We hear voices under this from everywhere, colliding in confusion and

	still.  You're going to be all right.  LET'S GET

	Oh, no, they've shot Jack ... I love you, Jack
	... Jack ... they've killed my husband ...

	The first reports say that President Kennedy has
	been seriously wounded by the shooting.  More
	details just arrived.  United Press say the
	wounds to President Kennedy perhaps could be
	fatal.  Repeating: President Kennedy has been
	shot by a would-be assassin in Dallas.  Three
	bursts of gunfire, apparently from automatic
	weapons ...

		(blending under)

We hear sirens and screeching tires.  The screen is still gray, randomly
intercut with the end of the Nix film showing the car escaping.  There
are wildly tracking shots of the crowd running towards the Grassy Knoll.
The camera pans up the little set of stairs.  We see more faces.
Someone in a suit stops our camera.  Secret Service?

We see the briefest glimpse from the Zapruder film.  The camera moves in
on the open umbrella next, then to the freeway sign, then to Mrs.
Kennedy out of the car reaching for help, then to the agent rushing onto
the rear fender.  The car finally speeds away.  The people on the other
side of the underpass wave at the oncoming hearse from hell.  (These are
fragmented, mystifying shots.  The main effect is one of blackout - of
not knowing; of being in the dark, as we all were back then.)


Pause.  The lovely old china clock on the wall reads 12:35.  Somewhere a
car backfires.  We see a close-up of the clock moving to 12:36.  We hear
the sound of a pen on paper, scratching ... We see a shot of Jim
Garrison as a young air pilot in World War II; hear the sound of
airplanes.  The camera moves to framed photos of Jim as a young,
Lincolnesque lawyer ... we hear sounds of political rallies, cheering
... a shot of Jim's grandfather shaking hands with President William
Taft.  The sound of bulldozers carries us to a shot of Jim staring at
piles of decaying corpses at Dachau ... a photo of Clarence Darrow ... a
law degree and an appointment as District Attorney of the New Orleans
Parish ... Mother Garrison with young Jim on the desk ... another family
- his own.  We look across the thick desk with the chess set, A Complete
Works of William Shakespeare and a Nazi helmet with a bullet hole in it
... to Jim himself writing - pen to paper.  We sense the quiet intellect
of the 43 year old man.  The clock ticks in the awful suspended silence.
It's as if the air itself has been sucked from the silent room.  This is
the last moment of peace before the World will rush through the door in
all its sound and fury - to change his life forever.  The camera
haywires into a close-up of Jim as he looks up ... and knows.

Lou Ivon, Jim's chief investigator, is already standing there in the
room.  He is burly, in his 30s - his expression universal for that day.

	What's wrong, Lou?

	Boss, the President's been shot.  In Dallas.
	Five minutes ago.

Jim is stunned.  His look of horror and shock speaks the same language
as on faces all across America that Black Friday.

	Oh no! ... How bad?

	No word yet.  But they think it's in the head.

Jim gets up, heading rapidly for the door.

	Come on.  Napoleon's has a TV set.


The midday customers all stare solemnly at the TV set high in the corner
of the cafe.  The manager, ashen, serves drinks to Jim and Lou.

	Apparently three bullets were found.  Governor
	Connally also appeared to be hit.  The President
	was rused by the Secret Service to Parkland
	Memorial Hospital four miles from Dealey Plaza.
	We are told a bullet entered the base of the
	throat and came out of the backside, but there
	is no confirmation, blood transfusions are being
	given, a priest has administered the last rites.

	There's still a chance, dammit!  Come on, Jack -
	pull through.

		(Italian, distracted)
	I don't believe it.  I don't believe it.  Here,
	in this country.

They all look up, expectant, as Walter Cronkite interrupts on the TV:

	From Dallas, Texas - the flash apparently
	official, President Kennedy died at 1 p.m.
	Central Standard Time, 2 o'clock Eastern
	Standard Time, some 38 minutes ago.
		(choked pause)
	Vice - President Johnson has left the hospital
	in Dallas, but we do not know to where he has
	proceeded.  Presumably, he will be taking the
	oath of office shortly, and become the 36th
	President of the United States.

There are sounds of shock, muttering, some sobbing in the restaurant.
Lou gulps down his drink.  Jim sits stunned.

	I didn't always agree with him - too liberal for
	my tastes - but I respected him.  He had style
	... God, I'm ashamed to be an American today.

He holds back the tears.  The food comes.  Lou waves it off.  They just
sit there.


Katzenjammer's is an Irish working class bar across Canal St. In a seedy
area near the Mississippi River, just off Lafayette Square.


A variety of loud Irish working men sit on stools watching the TV.
There are a few formica tables with chairs against the walls, and an
unused pool table.

	Many arrests have been made here today.  Anyone
	looking even remotely suspicious is being
	detained.  Most of the crowd has gone home but
	there are still many stunned people wandering
	around in Dealey Plaza unable to comprehend what
	happened here earlier today.

On the TV, we see the scene at Dealey Plaza.  The reporter has several
men, women, and children gathered around him.  He puts his microphone in
their faces.

	It's all so terrible.  I jes' can't stop crying.
	He did so much for this country, for colored
	people.  Why?

		(Bill Newman, with wife and kids)
	I grabbed my kids and wife and hit the ground.
	The bullets were coming over our heads - from
	that fence back on the knoll - I was just so
	shaken.  I saw his face when it hit ... he just,
	his ear flew off, he turned just real white and
	then went stiff like a board and flopped over on
	his stomach, with his foot sticking out.

CUT TO the picket fence above the Grassy Knoll.

	I thought ... it came from up there, that

CUT TO the Book Depository.

		MAN 2
	I heard shots from over there.

CUT TO the County Records Building.

	How many shots?

	About 3 to 4 ... I don't know.

		MAN 3
	I never thought it could happen in America.

Back in the bar, the camera moves to two patrons seated at a table by
themselves, far enough away not to be heard.  Guy Banister is a sturdy,
imposing ex - FBI agent in his 60's, steel gray hair, blue eyes, ruddy
from heavy drinking.  He wears a small rosebud in his lapel.  Jack
Martin is a thin, mousy man in his mid - 50's, wearing a Dick Tracy hat.
They're both drinking Wild Turkey heavily.  The TV blares loudly across
the room over their voices.

	All this blubbering over that sonofabitch!
	They're grieving like they knew the man.  It
	makes me want to puke.

	God's sake, chief.  The President was shot.

	A bullshit President!  I don't see any weeping
	for all the thousands of Cubans that bastard
	condemned to death and torture at the Bay of
	Pigs.  Where are all the tears for the Russians
	and Hungarians and Chinese living like slaves in
	prison camps run by Kennedy's communist buddies
	- All these damned peace treaties!  I'm telling
	ya Jack, that's what happens when you let the
	niggers vote.  They get together with the Jews
	and the Catholics and elect an Irish bleeding

	Chief, maybe you had a little too much to drink.

		(yells across the room)
	Bartender, another round ...
		(finishes drink)
	Here's to the New Frontier.  Camelot in
	smithereens.  I'll drink to that.


Several hours have elapsed.  The clientele has grown, drinking, watching
the tube with the insatiable curiosity the event engendered.  People
stare in from the street ... There is a silence in the restaurant.

TELEVISION INSERT:  image of a Dallas policeman hauling a Mannlicher -
Carcano rifle with a sniperscope over the heads of the press gathered in
the police station.

	This is the rifle, it is a Mannlicher - Carcano
	Italian rifle, a powerful World War II military
	gun used by infantry and highly accurate at
	distances of 100 yards.

We see images of the textbook boxes - the sniper's nest in the sixth
story of the Book Depository - and then the view out the window looking
down at Elm Street.

	The assassin apparently fired from this perch
	... but so far no word, much confusion and ...

CUT TO Newsman 2 at a different location or in studio.

	A flash bulletin ... the Dallas Police have just
	announced they have a suspect in the killing of
	a Dallas police officer, J.D. Tippit, who was
	shot at 1:15 in Oak Cliff, a suburb of Dallas.
	Police are saying there could be a tie - in here
	to the murder of the President.

TELEVISION INSERT:  Lee Harvey Oswald, a bruise over his right temple,
is apprehended at the Texas Theatre.

	The suspect, identified as Lee Harvey Oswald,
	was arrested by more than a dozen police
	officers after a short scuffle at the Texas
	movie theatre in Oak Cliff, several blocks from
	where Officer Tippit was killed, apparently with
	a .38 revolver found on Oswald.  There is
	apparently at least one eyewitness.

TELEVISION INSERT:  Oswald is booked at the station.  A surly young man,
24, he claims to the press:

	No, I don't know what I'm charged with ... I
	don't know what dispatches you people have been
	given, but I emphatically deny these charges.

	They oughta just shoot the bastard.

The room bursts out with an accumulated fury at the young Oswald - a
tremendous release of tension.  On the TV we see the excitement in the
newsmen's eyes; they all sense that this is the break they're looking
for in the case.

Garrison and Ivon watch the TV, and then Garrison stands and pays the

	One little guy with a cheap rifle - look what he
	can do.

	Let's get outta here, Lou.  I saw too much stuff
	like this in the war.

As they leave, the camera holds on the image of Oswald.


The sun is setting through thunderheads over the Mississippi River
waterfront as Banister and Martin wobble out, drunk, down the street.

	Well, the kid musta gone nuts, right?
		(Martin says nothing, looks
	I said Oswald must've flipped.  Just did this
	crazy thing before anyone could stop him, right?

	I think I'll cut out here, chief.  I gotta get

		(strong - arms Martin)
	Get home my ass.  We're going to the office,
	have another drink.  I want some company


Rain pours down outside 531 Lafayette Street as Banister opens several
locks on the door and turns on the lights.  The frosted glass on the
door says "W. Guy Banister Associates, Inc., Investigators."  It's a
typical detective's office with spare desks, simple chairs, large filing
cabinets and cubicles in the rear.

	Who'd ever thought that goofy Oswald kid would
	pull off a stunt like an assassination?
		(Martin waits)
	Just goes to show, you can never know about some
	people.  Am I right, Jack?
		(Martin, frightened now, doesn't
	Well, bless my soul.  Your eyes are as red as
	two cherries, Jack.  Don't tell me we have
	another bleeding heart here.  Hell, all these
	years I thought you were on my side.

	Chief, sometimes I don't know whether you're
	kidding or not.

	I couldn't be more serious, Jack.  Those big red
	eyes have me wondering about your loyalty.

Banister, going to a file cabinet to get a bottle out, notices one of
the file drawers is slightly ajar.  He flies into a rage.

	Who the hell opened my files!  You've been
	looking through my private files, haven't you,
	you weasel?

	You may not like this, chief, but you're
	beginning to act paranoid.  I mean, you really

	You found out about Dave Ferrie going to Texas
	today and you went through all my files to see
	what was going on.  You're a goddamn spy.

	Goddammit chief, why would I ever need to look
	in your files?  I saw enough here this summer to
	write a book.

	I always lock my files.  And you were the only
	one here today ...
		(stops as he hears Martin)
	What do you mean, you son of a bitch?

	You know what I mean.  I saw a lot of strange
	things going on in this office this summer.  And
	a lotta strange people.

Enraged, Banister pulls a .357 Magnum from his holster, cursing as he
suddenly slams it into Martin's temple.  The smaller man crumples
painfully to the ground.

	You didn't see a goddamn thing, you little
	weasel.  Do you get it?  You didn't see a
	goddamn thing.


Jim and his wife, Liz, watch the television.  She is in her early 30's,
an attractive, quiet southern woman from Louisiana.  They live in a
spacious two-story wood house, suburban in feel.

TELEVISION IMAGE: Reporters are jammed in the Assembly Room of the
Dallas Police Headquarters as Oswald is brought through the corridor,
officers on either side of him.

		(over the din)
	Did you shoot the President?

	I didn't shoot anybody, no sir.  I'm just a

The camera moves onto Jim with Liz and the children - Jasper, the oldest
at 4, holds his dad's hand.  On Liz's lap, Snapper, the youngest, is
asleep.  Virginia, the 2-year-old, is pestering the Boxer dog ... and
Mattie, the heavyset black housekeeper, 35, is in tears.

	My god, he sure looks like a creep.  What's he
	talkin' 'bout ... a patsy?

TELEVISION IMAGE: Oswald in front of the cameras, on a platform.

	Well, I was questioned by a judge.  However, I
	protested at the time that I was not allowed
	legal representation during that very short and
	sweet hearing.  Uh, I really don't know what the
	situation is about.  Nobody has told me anything
	except that I am accused of, uh, murdering a
	policeman.  I know nothing more than that and I
	do request that someone come forward to give me,
	uh, legal assistance.

	Did you kill the President?

	No.  I have not been charged with that.  In fact
	nobody has said that to me yet.  The first thing
	I heard about it was when the newspaper
	reporters in the hall, uh, asked me that

	You have been charged.


	You have been charged.

Oswald seems shocked.

	Were you ever in the Free Cuba Movement or
	whatever the ...

		(a voice in the back)
	It was the Fair Play for Cuba Committee.

Oswald looks over and spots Ruby in the back of the room, on a table.
Recognition is in his eyes.  The police start to move him out.

	What did you do in Russia?  What happened to
	your eye?

	A policeman hit me.

	He seems pretty cool to me for a man under
	pressure like that.

	Icy, you mean.
	He gives me the willies ... come on sugarplums,
	it's past your bedtimes ...
		(to Jim)
	Come on, let's go upstairs.
	Mattie - get ahold of yourself.

	Why, Mr. Jim?  He was a great man, Mr. Jim, a
	great man ...

Jim is moved by her.

TELEVISION IMAGE: Texas D.A. Henry Wade addresses the journalists.

	There is no one else but him.  He has been
	charged in the Supreme Court with murder with
	malice.  We're gonna ask for the death penalty.

Jim moves to the phone as Liz starts the kids up the stairs.  The TV
cuts to stills of Oswald's life.  Two newsmen sit in a studio, smoking,
sharing information.

		(Newsman 7)
	So several hours after the assassination, a
	disturbed portrait is emerging of Lee Harvey
	Oswald.  Described as shy and introverted, he
	spent much of his childhood in New Orleans,
	Louisiana and went to high school there.  After
	a stint in the Marines, he apparently became
	fascinated by Communism and in 1959 defected to
	the Soviet Union.

		(Newsman 8)
	He married a Russian woman there, Frank, had a
	child, and then returned to the United States
	after 30 months.  But he is still believed to be
	a dedicated Marxist and a fanatical supporter of
	Fidel Castro and ultra left wing causes.  He
	spent last summer in New Orleans and was
	arrested in a brawl with anti-Castro Cuban

		(Newsman 7)
	And apparently, Bob, Oswald had been passing out
	pro-Castro pamphlets for an organization called
	Fair Play for Cuba, a Communist front he
	reportedly belongs to.

		(Newsman 8)
	And we have Marina Oswald, his Russian-born
	wife, who has identified the rifle found in the
	Book Depository as belonging to her husband.
	And we have ...

TELEVISION IMAGES: Kennedy's casket coming off the plane in Washington
D.C. play under the newsman ... Jackie stands there in her blood-spotted
dress ... we cut to the photograph of L.B.J. taking the oath of office
earlier that day ... and a still photo of Robert Kennedy's reaction ...

		(on the phone)
	Lou, I'm sorry to disturb you this late ...
	yeah, matter of routine but we better get on
	this New Orleans connection of Oswald's right
	away.  Check out his record, find any friends or
	associates from last summer.  Let's meet with
	the senior assistants and investigators day
	after tomorrow, Sunday, yeah, at 11 ... Thanks


Jim is with his key players: Lou Ivon, chief investigator; Susie Cox, in
her 30's, and efficient, attractive Assistant D.A.; La Oser, Assistant
D.A. in his 40's, serious, spectacled; Bill Broussard, Assistant D.A.,
handsome, volatile, in his 30's; Numa Bertell, D.A. in his 30's, chubby
and friendly, and several others.  They sit around a conference table
with a black-and-white portable TV on a side table showing the current
Sunday, November 24 news from Dallas.

		(on TV)
	Lee good man ... he not shoot anyone.

Camera moves to Lou Ivon, looking at paperwork.

	As far as Oswald's associates, boss, the one
	name that keeps popping up is David Ferrie.
	Oswald was seen with him several times last

	I know David - a strange character.

	He's been in trouble before.  Used to be a hot
	shot pilot for Eastern Airlines, but he got
	canned after an alleged homosexual incident with
	a 14-year old boy.

		(on phone, excited)
	Get Kohlman ... he told somebody the Texas trip
	... yesterday mentioned to somebody about Ferrie
	... find it out.

On the TV we see the first image of the "backyard photos" of Lee Harvey
Oswald holding the rifle.

	These backyard photos were found yesterday among
	Oswald's possessions in the garage of Janet
	William's home in Riving, Texas, where Marina
	Oswald and her children are living.  The picture
	apparently was taken earlier this year.  Police
	say the rifle, a cheap World War II Italian-made
	Mannlicher-Carcano, was ordered from a Chicago
	mailing house and shipped to Oswald's alias A.
	Hidell at a post office box in March, 1963.
	This is the same rifle that was used to
	assassinate the President.

The camera moves back to the staff, who watch, obviously influenced.

	That ties it up ...

	Another nut.  Jesus, anybody can get a rifle in

		(hangs up)
	So it seems that Dave Ferrie drove off on a
	Friday afternoon for Texas - a source told
	Kohlman he might have been a getaway pilot for

Members of the team exchange looks of surprise and disbelief.

	Hold your horses.  What kinda source?

	The anonymous kind, Chief.

	I think I remember this guy Ferrie speaking at a
	meeting of some veteran's group.  Ranting
	against Castro.  Extreme stuff.

	We go back now to the basement of police
	headquarters where they're about to transfer
	Oswald to County Prison ...

TELEVISION IMAGE: The basement of the Dallas police headquarters -
waiting.  Men mill around as Oswald is led out of the basement by two
deputies.  Jack Ruby rushes forward out of the crowd - and into history
- putting his sealing bullet into Oswald.  Total chaos erupts ...

The camera is on the staff, looking.  We hear gasps.

	He's been shot!  Oswald's been shot!

	Goddamn!  Look at that ... Look at that ... I
	don't believe this ... Right on TV!  What is
	going on?  Who is this guy ... oh Jesus.

Jim is silent.

	Seventy cops in that basement.  What the hell
	were they doing?

	Jack Ruby ... Who is Jack Ruby?  Oswald is hurt.

We see images of Oswald being lifted onto the stretcher, into the
ambulance, and the newscaster crouching, whispering.  Everybody in the
room is stunned still.

	Well, no trial now.  Looks like somebody saved
	the Dallas D.A. a pile of work.

They look to Jim.  There's a pause.  He is deeply disturbed.

	Well, let's get Ferrie in here anyway.


The portable television plays to Jim alone, sitting in his chair smoking
a pipe.  We see searing images of the funeral - crowds of mourners, the
casket being driven through the streets, the honor guards, the horses,
the dignitaries walking behind, Jackie veiled ... the faces of De
Gaulle, MacMillan, Robert Kennedy.  We intercut briefly to Lyndon
Johnson sitting down earlier that day with the Joint Chiefs of Staff ...
and then a future cut to Johnson in the Oval Office (staged).  The shots
are very tight, uncomfortable - noses, eyes, hands - very tight.

As the door opens following a knock, David Ferrie is brought into Jim's
office by two police officers and Lou Ivon.  Jim stands up, cordial.

	Chief ... David Ferrie.

Ferrie suffers from alopecia, a disease that has removed all his body
hair, and he looks like a Halloween character - penciled eyebrows, one
higher than the other, a scruffy reddish wig pasted on askew with glue,
thrift store clothing.  His eyes, however, are swift and cunning, his
smile warm, inviting itself, his demeanor hungry to please.

		(shakes hands)
	Come in, Dave.  Have a seat, make yourself
	comfortable.  Coffee?

	Do you remember me, Mr. Garrison?  I met you on
	Carondolet Street right after your election.  I
	congratulated you, remember?

	How could I forget?  You make quite a first
		(on intercom)
	Sharon, could you please bring us some coffee?
		(Ferrie laughs; pause)
	I've heard over the years you're quite a first -
	rate pilot, Dave.  Legend has it you can get in
	and out of any field, no matter how small ...
		(Jim points to the pictures on his
	I'm a bit of a pilot myself, you know.  Flew
	grasshoppers for the field artillery in the war.

Ferrie glimpses the low-volumed TV - and images of the funeral.  He
looks away, jittery, and takes out a cigarette.  Sharon brings the
coffee in.

	Do you mind if I smoke, Mr. Garrison?

		(holds up his pipe)
	How could I?  Dave, as you know, President
	Kennedy was assassinated on Friday.  A man named
	Lee Harvey Oswald was arrested as a suspect and
	then was murdered yesterday by a man named Jack
		(on each name, watching Ferrie's
	We've heard reports that Oswald spent the summer
	in New Orleans and we've been advised you knew
	Oswald pretty well.

	That's not true.  I never met anybody named
	Oswald.  Anybody who told you that has to be

	But you are aware, he served in your Civil Air
	Patrol unit when he was a teenager.

	No ... if he did, I don't remember him.  There
	were lots of kids in and out ... y'know.

		(hands him a current newspaper)
	I'm sure you've seen this.  Perhaps you knew
	this man under another name?

	No, I never saw him before in my life.

	Well that must've been mistaken information we
	got.  Thanks for straightening it out for us.
		(puffs on pip, Ferrie looks
relieved; images of the funeral
continue on the TV)
	There is one other matter that's come up, Dave.
	We were told you took a trip to Texas shortly
	after the assassination of Friday.

	Yeah, now that's true.  I drove to Houston.

	What was so appealing about Houston?

	I hadn't been there ice skating in many years,
	and I had a couple of young friends with me, and
	we decided we wanted to go ice skating.

	Dave, may I ask why the urge to go ice skating
	in Texas happened to strike you during one of
	the most violent thunderstorms in recent memory?

	Oh, it was just a spur of the moment thing ...
	the storm wasn't that bad.

	I see.  And where did you drive?

	We went straight to Houston, and then Saturday
	night we drove to Galveston and stayed over

	Why Galveston?

	No particular reason.  Just to go somewhere.

	And then Sunday?

	In the morning we went goose hunting.  Then
	headed home, but I dropped the boys off to see
	some relatives and I stayed in Hammond.

	Did you bag any geese on this trip?

	I believe the boys got a couple.

	But the boys told us they didn't get any.

		(fidgeting, lighting another
	Oh yes, well, come to think of it, they're
	right.  We got to where the geese were and there
	were thousands of them.  But you couldn't
	approach them.  They were a wise bunch of birds.

	Your young friends also told us you had no
	weapons in the car.  Dave, isn't it a bit
	difficult to hunt for geese without a shotgun?

	Yes, now I remember, Mr. Garrison.  I'm sorry, I
	got confused.  We got out there near the geese
	and it was only then we realized we'd forgotten
	our shotguns.  Stupid, right?  So of course we
	didn't get any geese.

	I see.
		(stands up)
	Dave thank you for your time.  I'm sorry it has
	to end inconveniently for you, but I'm going to
	have you detained for further questioning by the

	Why?  What's wrong?

	Dave, I find your story simply not believable.

Lou and the two cops escort Ferrie out of the office as Jim turns to the
television image of Kennedy's final moments of rest.  The bugler plays
taps.  John Jr., 3 years old, in an image which will become famous,
salutes his Dad farewell.  The riderless horse stands lonely against the
Washington sky.


At a small press conference, the FBI spokesman reads a statement.

	Gentlemen, this afternoon the FBI released David
	W. Ferrie of New Orleans.  After extensive
	questioning and a thorough background check, the
	Bureau found no evidence that ...


In Garrison's office see the same broadcast, on the portable television.
Lou, Broussard, Numa and Jim watch.

		(on TV)
	... Mr. Ferrie knew Lee Harvey Oswald or that he
	has had any connection with the assassination of
	President Kennedy.  The Special Agent in Charge
	would like to make clear that Mr. Ferrie was
	brought in for questioning by the District
	Attorney of Orleans parish, not by the Federal
	Bureau of Investigation.  The Bureau regrets any
	trouble this may have caused Mr. Ferrie ...

	In national news, President Johnson has
	announced the creation of a blue ribbon
	presidential commission to probe the events in

Lou looks at Jim, angry.

	Correct me if I'm wrong.  I thought we were on
	the same side.  What the hell business is it of
	theirs to say that?

	Pretty fast, wasn't it.  The way they let him

	They must know something we don't.
		(dismisses it)
	So, let's get on with our lives, gentlemen ...
	we got plenty of home grown crimes to prosecute.

He reaches to turn off the TV and get back to work.  The last image on
the TV is:

	The Commission will be headed by Chief Justice
	of the United States Supreme Court, Earl Warren,
	and is expected to head off several
	Congressional and Texas inquiries into the
	assassination.  On the panel are Allen Dulles,
	ex-chief of the CIA, Representative Gerald Ford,
	John J. McCloy, former head of Chase Manhattan
	Bank ...

Jim flicks the TV off as the overture ends.


We look down at the White House from the plane's point of view.  A
subtitle reads: "THREE YEARS LATER."


		(looking out the window)
	That's a mess down there, Jim.  We've bitten off
	more "Vietnam" that we can possibly chew.

Jim, now 46, reads the front page of THE WASHINGTON POST which details
the latest battle in Vietnam.  He sits next to Senator Long from
Louisiana, in his 50's, who's drinking a whiskey.  They're on a crowded
businessman's shuttle.  We see a close-up of a newspaper article about
the Vietnam war: "more troops asked by Westmoreland."

	Sad thing is the way it's screwing up this
	country, all these hippies running around on
	drugs, the way young people look you can't tell
	a boy from a girl anymore.  I saw a girl the
	other day, she was pregnant - you could see her
	whole belly, and you know what she painted on
	it?  "Love Child."  It's fuckin' outa control.
	Values've gone to hell, Jim ... Course it
	figures when you got somebody like that polecat
	Johnson in the White House.

	I sometimes feel things've gone downhill since
	John Kennedy was killed, Senator.

	Don't get me started on that.  Those Warren
	Commission fellows were pickin' gnat shit out of
	pepper.  No one's gonna tell me that kid did the
	shooting job he did from that damned bookstore.

	Here you go, Senator Long.

The stewardess brings more drinks.

	I thought the FBI test-fired the rifle to make
	sure it could be done?

	Sure, three experts and not one of them could do
	it!  They're telling us Oswald got off three
	shots with world-class precision from a manual
	bolt action rifle in less than six seconds - and
	accordin' to his Marine buddies he got Maggie's
	drawers - he wasn't any good.  Average man would
	be lucky to get two shots off, and I tell ya the
	first shot would always be the best.  Here, the
	third shot's perfect.  Don't make sense.  And
	then they got that crazy bullet zigzagging all
	over the place so it hits Kennedy and Connally
	seven times.  One "pristine" bullet?  That dog
	don't hunt.

	You know, something always bothered me about
	that from day one, and I can't put my finger on

	If I were investigatin', I'd round up the 100
	best riflemen in the world and find out which
	ones were in Dallas that day.  You been duck
	hunting?  I think Oswald was a good old-
	fashioned decoy.  What'd he say?  "I'm just a
	patsy."  Out of the mouth of babes y'ask me.

	You think there were other men involved,

Russell looks at Jim quizzically and laughs.

	Hell, you're the District Attorney.  You read
	the Warren Report - and then you tell me you're
	satisfied Lee Oswald shot the President all by
	his lonesome.

	Russell, honestly you sound like one of those
	kooky critics spreading paranoia like prairie
	fire.  I just can't believe the Chief Justice of
	the United States would put his name on
	something that wasn't true.

		(to the stewardess)
	Honey, another one of these.  This one's as weak
	as cricket pee-pee.  Yessir, you mark my words,
	Jim, Vietnam's gonna cost Johnson '68 and it's
	gonna put that other varmint Nixon in - then
	watch your hide, 'cause there ain't no offramps
	on a freeway to Hell!


The study is lined with bookshelves up to the ceiling; we see photos of
family, a chess set.  Jim, smoking his pipe, reads in a red leather
chair from on eof the 26 thick Warren Commission volumes piled all over
the place.  Liz enters.  Jasper, now 7, draws on a piece of paper on the
floor at Jim's feet.

	Jim, dinner's just about ready ... I've got a
	surprise for you ... tried something new ...
	Jim?  Jim, dinner.

		(lost in thought)
	Mmmmm ... sure smells good ... but Egghead, do
	you realize Oswald was interrogated for twelve
	hours after the assassination, with no lawyer
	present, and nobody recorded a word of it?  I
	can't believe it.  A police captain with 30
	years experience and a crowd of Federal agents
	just had to know that with no record anything
	that Oswald said would be inadmissible in court.

	Come on now, we'll talk about it at the table,
	dinner's getting cold.
		(to Jasper)
	What are you doing in here?

	Daddy said it was all right if I was real quiet.

		(rising to dinner)
	Sure it is.  Freckle Face, if I ever handled a
	minor felon like that, it'd be all over the
	papers.  I'd catch hell.  And this is the
	alleged murderer of the President?


Two-year-old Elizabeth watches "Crusader Rabbit" on TV as the new one-
year-old sits in diapers with Liz at one end of the dinner table.  Jim
sits at the other end.  There are five kids now, ages 7, 5, 4, 2 and 1
... and Mattie, the housekeeper.  Dinner's finished, they pass plates,
the children horse around ... the boxer dog, Touchdown, begs for a piece
of the action.  Jim, not a big eater, feeds him ice cream.

	Again and again they ignore credible testimony,
	leads are never followed up, its conclusions are
	selective, there's no index, it's one of the
	sloppiest, most disorganized investigations I've
	ever seen.  Dozens and dozens of witnesses in
	Dealey Plaza that day are saying they heard
	shots coming from the Grassy Knoll area in front
	of Kennedy and not the Book Depository behind
	him, but it's all broken down and spread around
	and you read it and the point gets lost.

	I never did believe it either!

		(politely listening)
	Uh huh ... Mattie, I'll do the dishes, you take
	Be up now.  And Elizabeth, too, your bedtime,

	Nahhhh!  I don't wanna go to bed!

	Honey, that was three years ago - we all tried
	so hard to put that out of our minds, why are
	you digging it up again?  You're the D.A. of New
	Orleans.  Isn't the Kennedy assassination a bit
	outside your domain?  I mean all those important
	people already studied it.

	I can't believe a man as intelligent as Earl
	Warren ever read what's in those volumes.

	Well maybe you're right, Jim.  I'll give you one
	hour to solve the case ... until the kids are in
		(rising, she puts her arms around
him from behind and kisses his
	Then you're mine and Mr. Kennedy can wait 'til
	morning.  Come on, everybody say goodnight to

		(showing his drawing)
	Dad, look what I drew.

	That's something, Jasper.  What is it?

	A rhinoceros.  Can I stay up another hour?

Virginia and Snapper each get one of Jim's shoes as he dances with them,
holding one with each hand.

	Pickle and Snapper, my two favorite dancing

As the children dance, they fall off Jim's feet, laughing and giggling.
He throws each in the air and kisses them.

	Goodnight, my doodle bugs.

	Goodnight, Daddy.

Liz comes over, smiling.  Jim takes her in his arms.

	One hour, y'hear?  Some Saturday night date you
	Mama warned me this would happen if I married
	such a serious man.

	Oh, she did, huh?  When I come up I'll show you
	how Saturday night got invented.


The clock on mantelpiece reads 3 A.M.  Jim is alone, smoking his pipe.
In the stillness, his mind crawls all over the place.  The camera closes
on the thickly-worded pages of the Warren Report.

FLASHBACK TO the Warren Commission hearing room in Dallas, 1964.  We
hear thin, echoey sound as the attorneys question some of the witnesses.
The overall effect is vague and confusing, as is much of the Warren
Report.  A Mr. Ball is questioning Lee Bowers, the switchman in the
railroad yard.  Bowers, in his early 40's, has a trustworthy, working-
man face and a crew cut.

	I sealed off the area, and I held off the trains
	until they could be examined, and there was some
	transients taken on at least one train.

	Mr. Bowers ... is there anything else you told
	me I haven't asked you about that you can think

	Nothing that I can recall.

	Witness is excused.

Jim, upset, reads on ... Another witness, Sgt. D.V. Harkness of the
Dallas Police responds to a second attorney.

	Well we got a long freight that was in there,
	and we pulled some people off of there and took
	them to the station.

We see another FLASHBACK - to the Dallas rail yards on the day of the
assassination.  Three hoboes are being pulled off the freight by the
Dallas policemen.

	You mean some transients?

	Tramps and hoboes.

	Were all those questioned?

FLASHBACK TO Dealey Plaza an hour or less after the assassination.  The
three hoboes are marched by shotgun-toting policemen to the Sheriff's
office at Dealey Plaza.  We note that they do not look much like hoboes.

	Yes, sir, they were taken to the station and

		(writes "incomplete")

		(switching subjects)
	I want to go back to this Amos Euins.
		(voices dribble off)

	Yes sir, traffic had been cut off into the area
	since about 10, but there were three cars came
	in during this time from around noon till the
	time of the shooting ... the cars circled the
	parking lot, and left like they were checking
	the area, one of the drivers seemed to have
	something he was holding to his mouth ... the
	last car came in about 7 to 10 minutes before
	the shooting, a white Chevrolet, 4-door Impala,
	muddy up to the windows.

The camera's point of view is now from the railroad tower near Dealey
Plaza.  We are fourteen feet off the ground, overlooking the parking lot
behind the Grassy Knoll.  The shot includes this last car circling in
the lot.

	Towards the underpass, I saw two men standing
	behind a picket fence ... they were looking up
	towards Main and Houston and following the
	caravan as it came down.  One of them was
	middle-aged, heavyset.  The other man was
	younger, wearing a plaid shirt and jacket.

Inside the railroad tower, Bowers glances out, busy with the main board,
flashing lights, a train coming in.

	There were two other men on the eastern end of
	the parking lot.  Each of 'me had uniforms.

We see the parking lot from Bower's point of view - at a distance, but
we have a sense of the cars and see the men at a distance, tow uniformed
men.  The parking lot is bumper-to-bumper with a sea of cars.  Rain that
morning has muddied the lot.  These brief images are elaborated on

	At the time of the shooting there seemed to be
	some commotion ... I just am unable to describe
	- a flash of light or smoke or something which
	caused me to feel that something out of the
	ordinary had occurred there on the embankment

We feel the growing intensity: music, drums - but all blurred.  We see a
puff of smoke but no sound because of the window Bowers is glancing
through.  A motorcycle cop shoots up the Grassy Knoll incline.  People
run, blurring into a larger mosaic of confusion.  Bowers is confused,
seeing this.

INTERCUT with Jim's heart pounding as he reads.

Back in Dealey Plaza, S.M. Holland, an elderly signal supervisor, stands
on the parapet of the railway.

	Four shots ... a puff of smoke came from the
	trees ... behind that picket fence ... close to
	the little plaza - There's no doubt whatever in
	my mind.

We see the scene from Holland's point of view - the puff of smoke
lingering under the trees along the picket fence after the shooting.


Jim is asleep, having a tortured dream.

DREAMSCAPE FLASHBACK: We see the Zapruder film, in slow-motion and
J.F.K.'s face just before he goes behind Stemmons Freeway sign.  Jim
sits up suddenly.


Liz stirs, shaken.

	Honey, you all right?
		(looks at watch)

	It's incredible, honey - the whole thing.  A
	Lieutenant Colonel testifies that Lee Oswald was
	given a Russian language exam as part of his
	Marine training only a few months before he
	defects to the Soviet Union.  A Russian exam!

		(sitting up, angered)
	I cannot believe this.  It's four-thirty, Jim
	Garrison.  I have five children are gonna be
	awake in another hour and ...

	Honey, in all my years in the service I never
	knew a single man who was given a Russian test.
	Oswald was a radar operator.  He'd have about as
	much use for Russian as a cat has for pajamas.

	These books are getting to your mind, Mr.
	Garrison.  I wish you'd stop readin' them.

	And then this Colonel tries to make it sound
	like nothing.  Oswald did badly on the test, he
	says.  "He only had two more Russian words right
	than wrong."  Ha!  That's like me saying
	Touchdown here ...
		(points to the dog)
	... is not very intelligent because I beat him
	three games out of five the last time we played

		(gives up)
	Jim, what is going on, for heaven's sake!  You
	going to stay up all night every night?  For
	what?  So you'll be the only man in America who
	read the entire 26 volumes of the Warren Report?

	Liz, do I have to spell it out for you?  Lee
	Oswald was no ordinary soldier.  That was no
	accident he was in Russia.  He was probably in
	military intelligence.  That's why he was
	trained in Russian.

		(with a quizzical look)
	Honey, go back to sleep, please!

	Goddammit!  I been sleeping for three years!

She takes him now, gently, and pulls him down on top of her and kisses

	Will you stop rattling on about Kennedy for a
	few minutes, honey ... come on.


A Sunday, early.  We see a statue of Ben Franklin in an empty square
frequented by drunks who doze on benches in a little leafy park in the
center of the Square.  The camera moves to Jim by himself and then moves
to a sedan, pulling up, which disgorges Lou Ivon and Bill Broussard.

	Morning, boys.  Ready for a walking tour?

	At 7:30 Sunday morning?  It's not exactly fresh
	blood we're sniffing here, boss.

	Old stains, Bill, but just as telling.

TIME CUT TO Jim indicating 531 Lafayette Street, a seedy, faded, three-
story building across the street from the square.

	Remember whose office this was back in '63?  531
	Lafayette Street.

	Yeah, Guy Banister.  Ex-FBI man.  He died couple
	years ago.

FLASHBACK TO the exterior of the Banister Office on a day in 1963.  The
door is now clearly labelled "W. GUY BANISTER, INC. INVESTIGATORS."  It
opens and Banister comes out in slow motion, neatly dressed, rose in his
lapel - the same office and same man we saw three years before when he
pistol-whipped Jack Martin.  Banister seems to be smiling right at us,
greeting us.

		JIM (V.O.)
	Headed the Chicago office.  When he retired he
	became a private eye here.  I used to have lunch
	with him.  John Birch Society, Minutemen,
	slightly to the right of Attila the Hun.  Used
	to recruit college students to infiltrate
	radical organizations on campus.  All out of
	this office.  Now come around here, take a look
	at this ...

Back to the Lafayette Square of 1966.  Jim walks Ivon and Bill to the
corner, to another entrance to the same building - this one with a sign
that says "544 Camp Street."

	544 Camp Street.  Same building as 531
	Lafayette, right ... but different address and
	different entrances both going to the same place
	- the offices on the second and third floors.

Bill studies the present sign: "Crescent City Dental Laboratory", and
gives Jim a puzzled look.

	Guess who used this address?

Lou gets it and glances up.  We FLASHBACK TO the exterior of 544 Camp
Street in 1963.  Lee Oswald comes out the door into a full close-up, now
clearly seen by us, and heads out into the street as Guy Banister
intercepts him on the sidewalk, holding a leaflet and point to "544 Camp
Street stamped on it.  Guy seems miffed at Oswald, tells him something
quickly, and then moves on.

	See this?  What the hell is this doing on this
	piece of paper?
		(he moves away)

		LOU (V.O.)
	My God!  Lee Harvey Oswald.

		JIM (V.O.)
	Bull's-eye.  How do we know he was here?  Cause
	this office address was stamped on the pro-
	Castro leaflets he was handing out in the summer
	of '63 down on Canal street.  They were the same
	leaflets that were found in his garage in

FLASHBACK to Canal Street in New Orleans on a summer day in 1963.
Oswald, in a thin tie and white short-sleeved shirt, and wearing a
homemade placard reading "Hands Off Cuba"; "Viva Fidel!", is hawking
leaflets to pedestrians with two young helpers.

A large white-haired businessman in a white suit, very distinguished,
walks with a friend on Canal Street.  Oswald glances at him and meets
his eyes.  The businessman enters an office building.  This man is Clay
Bertrand, later known as Clay Shaw.

Some Cubans, led by Carols Bringuier, now appear.  One of them, "the
Bull", is heavy-set with dark glasses.  More of him will also be seen.

		JIM (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	He was arrested that day for fighting with some
	anti-Castro Cubans ... but actually he had
	contacted them a few days earlier as an ex-
	Marine trying to join the anti-Castro crusade.
	When they heard he was now pro-Castro, they paid
	him a visit.

		(haranguing passerby)
	He's a traitor, this man!  Don't believe a word
	he tells you!
		(to Oswald)
	You sonofabitch, you liar, you're a Communist,
	go back to Moscow.

Carlos throws Oswald's leaflets in the air and pulls off his glasses,
prepared to fight.  Oswald only smiles, and puts his arms down in an X
of passivity.

	Okay, Carlos, if you want to hit me, hit me.

There is no real fight, but the police, as if pre-alerted, arrive.
Arrests are made.  We see Oswald in a room in the police station,
talking with FBI Agent John Quigley.  A calendar on the wall shows that
it's August, 1963.

		JIM (V.O.)
	There was no real fight and the arresting
	Lieutenant later said he felt it was a staged
	incident.  In jail, Oswald asked to talk to
	Special Agent John Quigley of the FBI who showed
	up immediately.  They have a private session.
	Oswald is released and Quigley destroys his
	notes from the interview.

In a television studio in 1963, Oswald debates Carlos Bringuier with two

		JIM (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	But the arrest gets him a lot of publicity and
	as a result Oswald appears on a local TV debate
	that established his credentials as a Communist.

	But you're a Communist, are you not, and you
	defected to Russia.

	No, I am not a Communist.  But I am a Marxist-

	What did you do when you were in Russia?

	I worked while I was there.  I was always under
	the protection of ... that is to say, I was not
	under the protection of the U.S. Government.

Back in 1966, Jim walks with his two assistants.

	What the hell's a Communist like Lee Oswald
	doing working out of Banister's?

	Y'ever heard of a double agent, Bill?  I'm
	beginning to doubt Oswald was ever a Communist
	... after the arrest, 544 Camp Street never
	appeared on the pamphlets again.  Now here's
	another one for you:  What would you say if I
	told you Lee Oswald had been trained in the
	Russian language when he was a Marine?

	I'd say he was probably getting intelligence

	Lou, you were in the Marines.  Who would be
	running that training?

	The Office of Naval Intelligence.

	Take a look across the street.

We see the Post Office building across the street.

	Post Office.

	Upstairs.  In 1963 that was the Office of Naval
	Intelligence - And just by coincidence,
	Banister, before he was FBI, was ONI.  What do
	they say?

	"Once ONI, always ONI"?

	Well, he likes to work near his old pals.

Jim makes a gesture encompassing the whole Square.

	Bill, Lou, we're standing in the heart of the
	United States Government's intelligence
	community in New Orleans.  That's the FBI there,
	the CIA, Secret Service, ONI.  Doesn't this seem
	to you a rather strange place for a Communist to
	spend his spare time?

	What are you driving at, boss?

	We're going back into the case, Lou - the murder
	of the President.  I want you to take some money
	from the Fees and Fines Account and go to Dallas
	- talk to some people.  Bill, I want you to get
	Oser on the medical, the autopsy, Susan on
	Oswald and Ruby histories, tax records ...

	Lord, wake me, please.  I must be dreaming.

	No, you're awake, Bill, and I'm dead serious.
	And we're going to start by tracking down your
	anonymous source from three years ago.  How did
	you find out Dave Ferrie drove to Texas that


A straggly group of people watch from the grandstands eating hotdogs and
talking in small clusters.  The horses are running early morning laps.
Three men sit apart in the bleachers.  A scared Jack Martin, three years
older than when last seen, still wearing the Dick Tracy hat, sucks up
coffee like a worm does moisture.  He has the red puffy cheeks of an
alcoholic and deeply circled, worried eyes.  Bill and Jim wait.

	You're not under cross-examination here, Jack.
	What I need is a little clarification about the
	night Guy Banister beat you over the head with
	his Magnum.  You called our office hopping mad
	from your hospital bed.  Don't tell me you don't
	remember that?

Jack looks away and doesn't respond.

	Here's my problem, Jack.  You told me you and
	Guy were good friends for a long time?

	More than ten years.

	And he never hit you before?

	Never touched me.

	Yet on November 22, 1963 - the day of the
	President's murder - our police report says he
	pistol-whipped you with a .357 Magnum.
		(Martin's eyes are fixed on Jim)
	But the police report says you had an argument
	over the phone bill.  Here, take a look at it.
		(Martin looks at the report)
	Now, does a simple argument over phone bills
	sound like a believable explanation to you?

SUDDEN FLASHBACK to the night of the pistol-whipping.  The camera shows
Banister laying Martin's head open/ the beating the humiliation.

		(shaking his head slowly, dreamily)
	No, it involved more than that.

Bill looks at Jim.

	How much more?

	I don't know if I should talk about this.

	Well, I'd ask Guy - we were friendly, you know -
	heart attack, wasn't it?

	If you buy what you read in the paper.

	You have other information?

	I didn't say that.  All I know is he died
	suddenly just before the Warren Report came out.

	Why did Guy beat you, Jack?

	Well, I guess now that Guy's dead, it don't
	really matter ... it was about the people
	hanging around the office that summer.  I wasn't
	really part of the operation, you know.  I was
	handling the private-eye work for Guy when that
	came in - not much did - but that's why I was
	there ... it was a nuthouse.  There were all
	these Cubans coming and going.  They all looked
	alike to me.

FLASHBACK to Banister's office in 1963.  There are Cubans in battle
fatigues and combat boots; duffle bags are lying around.  David Ferrie,
in fatigues, directs the Cubans as they carry crates of ammunition and
weapons into a back room.  Martin observes from another desk.

	Dave Ferrie - you know about him?

		JIM (V.O.)
	Was he there often?

	Often?  He practically lived there.  It was real
	cloak and dagger stuff.  They called it
	Operation Mongoose.  The idea was to train all
	these Cuban exiles for another invasion of Cuba.
	Banister's office was part of a supply line that
	ran from Dallas, through New Orleans to Miami,
	stockpiling arms and explosives.

Still in 1963, we see the exterior of Banister's office.  A dozen Cubans
follow Ferrie downstairs into the street, and pile into several cars,
duffels thrown in with them.  Ferrie drives the lead car.

		JIM (V.O.)
	All this right under the noses of the
	intelligence community in Lafayette Square?

We see the cars cross the long Lake Pontchartrain Bridge and enter a
remote guerrilla training camp.  Bayou and jungle are all around.

	Sure.  Everybody knew everybody.  It was a
	network.  They were working for the CIA -
	pilots, black operations guys, civilians,
	military - everybody in those days was running
	guns somewhere ... Fort Jefferson, Bayou Bluff,
	Morgan City ... McAllen, Texas was a big gun-
	running operation.

At the guerrilla training camp at Lake Pontchartrain in 1963, we see
scenes of basic training - shooting, obstacle courses, callisthenics -
led by Ferrie and other trainers.  Scattered among the Cubans are
several white American mercenaries.  We catch a glimpse of Oswald and
glimpses of several other men we will see again, in sprinklings.

		JIM (V.O.)
	Where is Banister in all this?

	Banister was running his camp north of Lake
	Pontchartrain.  Ferrie handled a lot of the
	training.  There was a shooting range and a lot
	of tropical terrain like in Cuba.  A few
	Americans got trained, too.  Nazi types.
	Mercenaries.  But Ferrie was the craziest.

It's night at the training camp.  FBI agents race up in cars in the
middle of the night, swarming over the camp, rounding up the trainees.

	Anyway, late summer the party ended.  Kennedy
	didn't want another Bay of Pigs mess, so he
	ordered the FBI to shut down the camps and
	confiscate the napalm and the C-4.  There were a
	buncha Cubans and a couple Americans arrested,
	only you didn't read about it in the papers.
	Just the weapons got mentioned ... 'cause the
	first ones behind bars would've been Banister
	and Ferrie, but I think the G-men were just
	going through the motions for Washington.  Their
	hearts were with their old FBI buddy Banister.

We see FBI agents loading dynamite, bomb casings, arms 155mm artillery
shells, etc.

Back at the racetrack in 1966, Jim listens.

	Like I said, a fuckin' nuthouse.

	And Oswald?

Martin hesitates.  We hear the rhythmic beating of the horse hooves and
Martin sucking on the steaming cup of coffee.

	Yeah, he was there, too ... sometimes he'd be
	meeting with Banister with the door shut.  Other
	times he'd be shooting the bull with Ferrie.
	But he was there all right.

	Anything more specific, Jack?  It's important.

FLASHBACK TO Banister's office in 1963.  Banister and Martin shooting
the breeze as the straight-laced middle-aged secretary, Delphine
Roberts, hurries in.

	Yeah, one time the secretary got upset, I
	remember ...

	I can't believe it, Mr. Banister.  Lee Oswald is
	down on Canal Street giving out Communist
	leaflets supporting Castro!

Banister just looks at her and laughs.

	It's okay, Delphine, he's with us.

Back at the racetrack ...

	Anyone else involved at Banister's level?

	There was one guy, I don't know, big guy,
	business guy, white hair - I saw him come into
	the office once.  He looked out of place, y'know
	- like a society guy.  Can't remember his name.
	Oswald was with him.

FLASHBACK to Banisters office on a day in 1963.  Martin is snooping in
Banister's files.  Cut to Martin leaving the office as a big businessman
with white hair briefly talks to Oswald and then goes into Banister's
private office.

	He had something to do with money.  I remember
	him cause Guy, who didn't kiss anybody's ass,
	sure kissed his.

Banister lets the man into his private office.

	Clay something, that was his name - Clay.

	Bertrand.  Clay Bertrand?

	Yeah!  That's it.
		(pause, paranoid)
	I don't know.  Maybe it wasn't.  I gotta go.

		(to Bill)
	Clay Bertrand.  He's in the Warren Report.  He
	tried to get Oswald a lawyer.
		(to Martin)
	Was Kennedy ever discussed, Jack?

	Sure.  'Course they hated the sonofabitch, but

	The assassination, Jack?

	Never.  Not with me sir, never ... Listen, I
	think I'd better go.  I said enough.  I said all
	I'm going to say.
		(rises suddenly)

	Hold on, Jack.  What's the problem?

	What's the problem?  What's the problem?  Do I
	need to spell it out for you, Mr. Garrison?  I
	better go.

	Nobody knows what we're talking about, Jack.

	You're so naive, mister.

Martin picks his way nervously down the bleacher benches.


Jim drives, with Numa in the front and Bill in the back.

	Well, it's a terrific yard, Chief, but the man's
	an obvious alcoholic with a reputation lower
	than crocodile piss.

	Does that bother you, Bill?  I always wondered
	in court why it is because a woman is a
	prostitute, she has to have bad eyesight.

	He'll never sign a statement, boss, let alone
	get on a witness stand.

	When something's rotten in the land, Bill, it
	generally isn't just one fish, we'll get
	corroboration ... find this Clay Bertrand.  If I
	were a betting man, I'd give you 10 to 1 it's an
	alias.  Start checking around the Quarter.

	And the six of us, with almost no budget and in
	secret, are going to solve the case that the
	Warren Commission with dozens of support staff
	and millions of dollars couldn't solve.  We
	can't keep up with the crimes in the Parish as
	it is, Chief.

	The murder of a President, Bill, is a crime in
	Orleans Parish too.  I didn't pick you because
	of your legal skill, you know.

	Gee, thanks boss.

Jim pulls the car over to park.

	But because you're a fighter.  I like a man who
	isn't scared of bad odds.


Jim and the others get out of the car and head towards Antoine's
Restaurant.  A black woman greets him.

	How ya doing, Mr. Garrison?  Remember me - from
	the piano bar at the Royal Orleans?

	I sure do.  We sang "You're the Cream in My

She laughs.  Others move in on him.

		(to Numa)
	Make sure we come back here, now.


They enter a busy lunchtime crowd in an elegant eatery.  Lou Ivon and Al
Oser are waiting for them as they're shown to their table by the Maitre

	Mr. Garrison, we have not seen enough of you

	Been too busy, Paul - an elected man can't have
	as much fun as he used to.
		(seeing Lou and Al)
	Welcome back, Lou.  Find out anything on those

Lou's been waiting, excited.  He gives Jim blowups of the five hobo

	They took 'em to the Sheriff's office, not the
	police station, and they let 'em go.  No record
	of them ever being questioned.

	I can't say that comes as a surprise anymore.

	A photographer from The Dallas Times Herald got
	some great shots of them never published ...

The camera moves in on the photographs.

FLASHBACK TO the "hoboes" being escorted to the Sheriff's office - as
per Sgt. Harkness' earlier description.

		LOU (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	... take a good look, chief, do any of 'em look
	like the hoboes you remember?

	Hoboes I knew of old used to sleep in their
	clothes - these two look pretty young.

	... not a single frayed collar or cuff, new
	haircuts, fresh shaves, clean hands - new shoe
	leather.  Look at the ear of the cop ... That's
	a wire.  What's a cop wearing a headset for?  I
	think they're actors, chief; they're not cops.

Susie Cox arrives.

	Who the hell are they, then!  Hi, Susie, sit
		(to Lou)
	This could be it.  Let's start looking for 'em.
	How 'bout that railroad man, Lee Bowers?  Saw
	those men at the picket fence?

	Graveyard dead.  August this year.
		(Jim curses quietly)
	A single car accident on an empty road in
	Midlothian, Texas.  The doctor said he was in
	some kind of strange shock when he died.

		(shares the look)
	We need to find more witnesses, Lou.

	There was Rose Cheramie.  A whore.  Two Cubans
	threw her out of a car on the way to Dallas.
	She talked to a cop from a hospital bed two days
	before the assassination, said Kennedy would be
	hit that Friday.  She said she was a dope runner
	for Jack Ruby and that Ruby knew Oswald for
	years ...

	Can we find her?

	Graveyard dead near Big Sandy, Texas in '65.
	Two in the morning on some highway.  A hit and

FLASHBACK to Rose lying dead on an empty highway.

	Why not go right to the horse's mouth, chief?
	Jack Ruby's been rotting in a Dallas jail cell
	for three years.  Maybe he's ready to crack?

	If we go to him our investigation'll hit the
	front pages by sunrise.  Blow up right in our
	face.  Ruby was just given a new trial.  If he
	has something to say, it'll be there.  Susie,
	what did you find out on Oswald?

	Negative on his tax records.  Classified.  First
	time I know a D.A. can't get a tax record.  I
	put together a list of all the CIA files on
	Oswald that were part of the Warren Report and
	asked for them.  There are about 1200 documents
		(gives it to Jim who reads)
	Oswald in the USSR, in Mexico City, Oswald and
	the U2, a CIA 201 personnel file, a memo from
	the Director on Oswald, travel and activities -
	can't get one of them.  All classified as secret
	on the grounds of national security.  It's real

	Maybe there's more to this, Susie.  The CIA's
	keeping something from our enemies.

	Yes, but we're talking about a dead warehouse
	employee of no political significance.  Three
	years later and he's still classified?  They
	gave us his grammar school records, a study of
	his pubic hairs ... Put it in context, Bill, of
	what we know about Oswald.  Lonely kid, no
	father, unstable childhood, high school dropout
	- wants to grow up and be a spy, joins the
	Marines at 17.  He learns Russian, he acts
	overtly Marxist with two other marines, but he's
	stationed at a top secret base in Japan where U2
	spy flights over Russia originate.  He's
	discharged from the Marines supposedly because
	his mother's sick.  He stays home 3 days, then
	with a $1500 ticket from a $203 bank account, he
	goes to Moscow ...

FLASHBACK TO Moscow in 1959.  We see shots of the city - strange and
eerie black-and-white stills.  Inside the U.S. Embassy Oswald slaps his
passport on the table with a formal letter.  Two consuls attend him.

		(voice stilted)
	I want to renounce my citizenship and become a
	Soviet citizen.  I'm going to make known to them
	all information I have concerning the Marine
	Corps and my specialty therein, radar operation

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	One of the consuls, John McVickar, says Oswald's
	performance was not spontaneous - it seemed
	coached.  Oswald gives an interview to a

Continuing the Moscow flashback, we see Oswald talking with a female
journalist in his small room in the Hotel Metropole.  Again he sounds

	I will never return to the United States for any
	reason.  It is a capitalist country, an
	exploitive, racist country.  I am a Marxist
	since I was 15.  I've seen poor niggers and that
	was a real lesson.  People hate because they're
	told to hate, like school kids.  It's the
	fashion to hate people in the U.S.

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	The Russians are sceptical - want to send him
	back.  Maybe they suspect he's a spy.  He
	supposedly slashes his wrists in a suicide
	attempt so that they're forced to keep him, and
	he disappears for six weeks, presumably with the

We see photos of the city of Minks, in Russia, Oswald with various
friends and tourists, shots of Lee and Marina with a new baby.

	Finally they shuttle him to a radio factory in
	Minks where he lives as high on the hog as he
	ever has - he's given 5,000 rubles, a roomy
	apartment with a balcony, has affairs with local

	Makes sense - he's a spokesman.

	But he never writes, speaks, or does any
	propaganda for the Russians.  He meets Marina,
	whose uncle is a colonel in Soviet intelligence,
	at a trade union dance; she thinks he's Russian
	the way he speaks, six weeks later they marry,
	have a daughter.

	Didn't someone say he didn't speak good Russian?

	It's a contradiction, Numa, get used to them.
	The only explanation for the royal treatment is
	he did give them radar secrets.  Or fake

We see documentary shots of the U2 on Russian soil ... Francis Gary
Powers ... The Summit Conference cancelled ... Eisenhower and

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	I don't know if it's coincidence, but Oswald had
	a top security clearance and knew about the U2
	program from his days at Atsugi Air Base in
	Japan.  Six months after he arrives in Russia,
	Francis Gary Powers' U2 spy flight goes down in
	Russia.  That plane was untouchable.  Powers
	hinted that Oswald could've given the Russians
	enough data to hit it.  As a direct result, the
	peace summit between Khrushchev and Eisenhower
	failed.  I can't help thinking of that book
	Seven Days In May, maybe someone in our military
	didn't want the Peace Conference to happen,
	maybe Oswald was part of that.  It gets weirder.

	Susie, you're an assistant D.A., remember.
	Stick to what you can prove in court.

	You want facts, Bill?  Okay.  From 1945 to '59
	only two U.S. soldiers defect to Russia.  From
	'59 to '60, seven defect, six return, one of
	them another Marine a month before Oswald.  All
	of them young men made to seem poor,

	Don't get sidetracked!  How does he get back to
	the States?  That's the point.  Does he have any

	None!  The State Department issues him a new
	passport in 48 hours and loans him the money to
	travel.  He's never investigated or charged by
	the Navy for revealing classified information
	or, as far as we know, debriefed by the CIA.

	This is a man whose secrets cause us to change
	our radar patterns in the Pacific!  He should've
	been prosecuted as a traitor!

	The FBI finally gets around to talking to him in
	Dallas and runs a file on him as a miscreant
	Communist type.

	But who meets him when he gets off the boat in
	New York in June '62?

The screen shows photos of New York: Empty docks ... a ship coming in
... Wall Street on a Sunday morning - Graphic Weegee-type black-and-
white stills, then a photo of Spas T. Raikin.

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	Spas T. Raikin, a leading member of an anti-
	Communist group.

		JIM (V.O.)
	And Marina?  Does she have a problem getting

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	None either.  It's bizarre.  It's next to
	impossible to get Russian sweethearts out.  Nor
	does Lee have any problem getting a new passport
	when he wants to go to Cuba and Russia in '63.
	A man who has defected once already.  It's

	Dammit, it doesn't add up!  Ordinary people get
	blacklisted for leftist affiliations!  The State
	Department did everything short of dispatching a
	destroyer to Minks to insure Oswald's return.
	Only intelligence people can come and go like

FLASHBACK TO a Forth Worth map factory.  We see Oswald at work on photo
mattes with a Minox spy camera.  The camera shows close-ups of maps and
then flashes to a hand in the photographic section.  We see a close-up
of Oswald's head in a photograph - the same headshot that will be
superimposed on the Oswald photo - and a razor blade cutting mattes.

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	The next thing we know he's living in Dallas/Ft.
	Worth in October '62 working 6 months at
	Jaggars-Chiles-Stovall, a photographic firm that
	contracts to make maps for the U.S. Army ... He
	starts work only days before the government
	reveals Russian missiles in Cuba and the crisis
	explodes.  Oswald may have had access to missile
	site footage obtained by the U2 planes and works
	alongside a young man who'd been in the Army
	Security Agency.

	Sort of like Benedict Arnold coming back to
	George Washington's cabinet.

	Equally incongruous is Oswald becoming chummy
	with the White Russian community of Dallas - all
	rabid anti-Communists.

FLASHBACK TO Fort Worth in 1963.  In Oswald's cheap apartment, seven
White Russians, including George de Mohrenschildt, a distinguished grey-
haired man in his late fifties, are visiting Marina and Oswald, bringing
old dresses, groceries, and toys and milk for the crying baby, whose
cradle is two suitcases.

	His closest friend is an oilman named George de
	Mohrenschildt who's about 35 years older than
	Oswald, who's only 23 and supposedly broke.  De
	Mohrenschildt is a member of the Dallas
	Petroleum Club, speaks five languages and was in
	French Vichy Intelligence during the War.  Also
	rumoured to have been a Nazi sympathizer and
	member of the "Solidarists", an international
	anti-Communist organization with many Eastern
	Europeans and ex-Nazis, many of them brought
	here by the CIA after the war, many of them
	involved in oil and munitions interests in
	Dallas and the Southwest.  You figure it.

	Where'd you get all this Nazi stuff?

		(hands him a file)
	Read it.  They called it "Project Paperclip."

		JIM (V.O.)
	This is the guy that keeps turning up in
	colonial countries and each time something
	strange happens.  Coup d'etats, presidents
	overthrown.  He shows up on a "walking tour" of
	Guatemala's Cuban invasion camps just before the
	Bay of Pigs invasion.  If we don't know he's
	CIA, let's circle him very probable - Oswald's

We see Oswald and de Mohrenschildt talking with the others and a
magazine cover with J.F.K. the subject of discussion.

	I think he's made some mistakes on Cuba, but
	he's doing a pretty good job.  If he succeeds,
	in my opinion, he'll be a great President.  And
	a really attractive one too - open features,
	great head of hair ...

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	De Mohrenschildt draws a picture of Oswald as an
	intellectual, well read, speaks excellent
	Russian, a man who adored J.F.K.

	That's scenery.  Don't get sidetracked.  This is
	the man, bottom line, who nailed Oswald to the
	Warren Commission as a potentially violent man,
	and linked him to the rifle.

TIME CUT TO Oswald's apartment on a different day in 1963.  George de
Mohrenschildt points out a Mannlicher-Carcano rifle in the closet, turns
to Lee.

	So, Lee, what are you taking a potshot at this
	week - rabbits or fascists?

Lee's look is sickly.  He freezes up.

RESUME scene of White Russian gathering in Oswald's apartment.

	The only Russian that suspects Oswald of still
	being a Communist is Anna Meller.  But her
	Russian friend tells her "he's checked" with the
	local FBI and was told Oswald is all right.

Anna Meller, one of the guests, glances at a copy of Das Kapital in a
pile of books, and talks to another Russian man about it ... Talking now
to Lee and Marina are Janet and Bill Williams, a mid-American couple in
their late twenties, freshly minted.

	The Oswalds are introduced by George de
	Mohrenschildt to Janet and Bill Williams.  It's
	through Janet Williams in October '63 that Lee
	gets the warehouse job, right smack on Elm
	Street at the Book Depository, which is owned by
	another oilman with ties to defense and military

		JIM (V.O.)
	Presumably so he can now exercise his intellect
	stacking school texts at $1.25 an hour.

We see Oswald and another man in the Texas School Book Depository in
1963.  They are hauling and stacking school textbooks - an obviously
lower-level job for Oswald after the map factory.  We cut ahead to empty
graphics of the sealed off area, the window site, the cafeteria.

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	All I can find out about the Williams' is their
	tax returns are classified and that Bill
	Williams, a descendant of the Cabots of
	Massachusetts, has links through his family and
	United Fruit to the CIA and does classified work
	for Bell Helicopter which requires a security
	clearance - so what is Oswald, a defector, doing
	visiting his wife in his house?  Williams has a
	relationship at Bell with General Walter
	Dornberger, another one of the Nazis we brought
	in after the War for our missile program.  He
	used slave labor to build the V-2 Rockets for
	Hitler before Bell needed him.

	I wonder about the Williams'.  Just where did
	the first description of Oswald come from at
	12:44?  No one knows.  They claimed it was
	Brennan's, but his description came after 1 P.M.
	Who called?  Somehow the FBI's been tapping the
	Williams' and picks up a call between Bell
	Helicopter and Janet's phone, an unidentified
	voice saying "We both know who's responsible."
	Who called?  Why's the Bureau been tapping them?

We see the interior of the Williams' home in Irving on a day in 1963.

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	His wife, Janet Williams, studied Russian in
	college and her father worked for the Agency for
	International Development, which works hand in
	hand with the CIA.  She suddenly becomes
	Marina's best friend.  Marina fights often with
	Lee about many things - his secrecy, the lack of
	money.  She says Lee is not sexually adequate.
	Lee hits her on several occasions.  Bill
	Williams' convenient separation from Janet
	allows Janet to invite Marina to move into her
	house in Irving.  There Marina and Lee have a
	second daughter - while Lee, now 24, stores his
	belongings in Janet's garage and rents a small
	room in Dallas under an alias of "O.H. Lee".

We see Marina and Oswald in bed at night in the Williams' house, in a
tender scene.  Oswald says goodbye to his child.

TIME CUT TO Oswald living in a boarding house.  It is at night, and he
sits in his room alone.  The housekeeper, Earlene Roberts, heavyset,
white, in her 60's, comes in and asks him if he wants to watch some TV
with her.  He declines.

	When he's arrested, Marina buries him with the
	public.  Her description of him is that of a
	psychotic and violent man.

FLASHBACK TO Marina on TV, a different person from before.

	I do not want to believe, but I have too much
	facts .. tell me that Lee shot Kennedy.

		JIM (V.O.)
	Yeah, after, they take her to Six Flags Inn in
	Arlington, prepare her for the interviews, teach
	her how she should answer - and after two months
	and 46 interviews, she has a nervous breakdown.
	Oswald was no angel, that's clear, but who was

BACK TO Antoine's Restaurant.

	I'm lost, boss.  What are we saying here?

	We're saying that when Oswald went to Russia, he
	was not a real defector, that he was an
	intelligence agent on some kind of mission for
	our government and he remained one till the day
	he died, that's what we're saying.

	And therefore because Oswald pulled the trigger,
	the intelligence community murdered their own
	commander in chief.  That's what you're saying!

	I'll go you one better!  Maybe Oswald didn't
	even pull the trigger, Bill.  The nitrate test
	indicates he didn't even fire a rifle on
	November 22nd.  And on top of that, they didn't
	even bother to check if the rifle had been fired
	that day.

	He had his palm print on the weapon.

	It went to the goddamn FBI and they didn't find
	a goddamn thing.  It comes back a week later and
	one guy in the Dallas police department suddenly
	finds a palm print which for all I know he
	could've taken off Oswald at the morgue.
	There's no chain of evidence, Bill.  And what
	about the tow guns actually seen in the
	Depository?  One an Enfield photographed by a
	newsman and the other a Mauser, described by
	Deputy Weitzman ... Maybe, just maybe, Lee
	Oswald was exactly what he said he was Bill - "a
	patsy".  Take it at face value.  Lou, Susie, I'm
	going with my gut here.  He's got an alias of
	Hidell to buy the rifle, "O.H. Lee" to rent the
	room, right?  What's in a name, right?  In
	intelligence, they're assumed to be fake.  A
	name is sort of like a postbox number, a code -
	several different people can use the same name,
	right?  Then why can't somebody be using
	Oswald's name?

We see blank faces around the table.

	But why?

	To frame him, obviously.  You got to get in your
	minds how the hell spooks think, Bill!  They're
	not ordinary crooks.

	I never could figure out why this guy orders a
	traceable weapon to that post office box when
	you can go into any store in Texas, give a
	phoney name and walk out with a cheap rifle
	which can never be traced.

	Unless he or someone else wants him to get
	caught.  Maybe he never ordered the weapon, Lou.
	Somebody else did.  It was picked up at the post
	office early morning when Oswald's time sheet
	shows him clocked in at his job.  Lou, come
	alive.  These things are not adding up.

	I still have to question what the legal basis is
	that supports this, boss.  Susie's stuff is
	colorful, but ...

	Let's start making some assumptions about the
	man.  Why would he leave a path as big as Lee
	Harvey Oswald's?  This is not a thin trail,
	gentlemen, it is a very wide one.  Who found the
	evidence?  Who set him up?  Lou, Bill, Susie, I
	want you to go back and check all the sightings
	of Oswald in Dallas, New Orleans and Mexico in
	the summer and fall of '63 - see if it's the
	same guy.

	Boss, Oswald impersonators?  Sounds like James
	Bond now.

	Al, you can't tell a mink from a coonskin unless
	you see the fur up close.  Goddamn, Sam!  If we
	don't start reading between the lines here!
	Y'all gotta start thinking on a different level
	- like the CIA does.  We're through the looking
	glass.  Here white is black and black is white.

	What do you think, Lou?

	I'm just an investigator, Bill.  I leave the
	theories to you lawyers.

	You, Numa?

	A week ago I would've said this is nuts, but now
		(shakes his head)
	There's a lot of smoke there, but there's some

	Now you guys, come on.  You're talking about the
	United States Government here!

	We're talking about a crime, Bill.  No one is
	above the law.  Reduce it.  A crime was
	committed.  Let's get to work.


Jack Ruby, thick fudge of an angry face, flu-ridden, confronts a doctor
and two guards in his cell.

	Christ, what the hell kinda needle is that?  I
	just got a cold for Chrissake.  I don't want any

	Please relax, Mr. Ruby.  This'll calm you down
	and clear this up.

	Doc, I'm telling you, I don't need any shots.

	Mr. Ruby, I don't want to involve the guards.
	It'll just take a few seconds.

Ruby looks over at the two guards, who eye him.  The Doctor gives him
the injection.

FLASHBACK TO Ruby's jail cell in 1964.  Ruby talks to men with their
backs to us.  Lawyers and police clutter the cell, making Ruby hyper-
nervous.  The chief official's white hair and avuncular voice are all we
see and hear of him; his back is to us.

	Then do you understand that I cannot tell the
	truth here?  In Dallas.  That there are people
	here who do not want me to tell the truth ...
	who do not want me to have a retrial?

	Mr. Ruby, I really can't see why you can't tell
	us now.

Ruby catches the stern face of Sheriff Bill Decker from the corner of
his eye, the Assistant D.A. next to him.

	When are you going back to Washington, sir?

		(looks at watch)
	I am going back very shortly after we finish
	this hearing - I am going to have some lunch.

	Can I make a statement?  If you request me to go
	back to Washington with you right now, that is
	if you want to hear further testimony from me,
	can you do that?  Can you take me with you?

	No, that could not be done, Mr. Ruby.  There are
	a good many things involved in that.

	What are they?

	Well, the public attention it would attract.
	And we have no place for you there to be safe,
	we're not law enforcement officials, and many
	things are at stake in this affair, Mr. Ruby.

	But if I am eliminated there won't be any way of
	knowing.  Consequently a whole new form of
	government is going to take over this country,
	and I know I won't live to see you another time.
	My life is in danger here.  Do I sound screwy?

	Well I don't know what can be done, Mr. Ruby,
	because I don't know what you anticipate we will

	Then you don't stand a chance, Mr. Chief
	Justice, you have a lost cause.  All I want is a
	lie detector test, and you refuse to give it to
	me.  Because as it stands now - and the truth
	serum - how do you pronounce it - Pentothal -
	whatever it is.  They will not give it to me,
	because I want to tell the truth ... And then I
	want to leave this world.

The camera pauses on Ruby's face.  The men rise and leave in the


Jack Ruby is escorted out of the infirmary, dead of cancer.


The puffy, smiling face of Dean Andrews, framed by huge black glasses,
talks in a Louisiana hippie argot of the 50's.  The restaurant has a
fancy French decor, mirrored walls, marble - it serves the cream of
Louisiana society.

	Why you keep dancing on my head for, my man?  We
	been thicker'n molasses pie since law school.

	Because you keep conning me, Dean.  I read your
	testimony to the Warren Commission and ...

	There you go.  Grain of salt.  Two sides to
	every coin.

	You tell them the day after the assassination
	you were called on the phone by this "Clay
	Bertrand" and asked to fly to Dallas and be Lee
	Oswald's layer.


	Now that's pretty important, Dean.  You also
	told the FBI when you met him, he was six foot
	two.  Then you tell the Commission he was five
	foot eight.  How the hell did the man shrink
	like that, Dean?

	They put the heat on, my man, just like you're
	doing.  I gave'em anything that popped into my
	cabeza.  Truth is, I never met the dude.

Sudden FLASHBACK to Andrews' office on a day in 1963.  Clay Bertrand
sits, back to us, talking to Andrews.  He has close-cropped white hair.
He is the same patrician man we've seen earlier with Oswald on Canal
Street and in Banister's office.  Andrews is evidently lying.

	I don't know what the cat looks like and
	furthermore I don't know where he's at.  All I
	know is sometimes he sends me cases.  So one day
	he's on the phone talkin' to me about going to
	Dallas and repping Oswald ...
		(notices a woman, in present)
	Hey, pipe the bimbo in red.  What ever happened
	to that little gal you was dating in the Quarter
	- from Opelousas, y'know, elevator didn't go to
	the top floor but tits could smother gumbo with.

Jim, in present, looking briefly - a pretty girl walking in.

	Yeah, she was pretty, all right, but not half as
	cute as you, Deano.  You shoulda tried a
	legitimate line of business.

	You can't ever say crime don't pay in Louisiana,
	Jim - only not as good as it used to.  Good
	chowder, ain't it?

	When did you first do business with this

	Oh, I first heard these street cats jiving about
	him back in '56, '57 when I lived down in the

	Street cats?

	Swishes.  They swish, y'know.  Young fags, you
	know.  They'd come into my bureau needing help,
	no bread, and I'd say, hey man, I ain't
	Rockefeller, who gonna back you up?  These
	cornmuffins go to the phone and dial ...

FLASHBACK TO Andrews' office on another day in 1963.  We catch a glimpse
of a young swish sitting in Andrew's office talking on the phone.
Andrews is also on the phone to Bertrand, unseen, on the other end.

	The dude on the other end says ...

	I'm Clay Bertrand.  Whatever they owe, I

	Hey, suits me fine, Daddy Warbucks - how do I
	get in touch with you?

	I'm around.

	And that's how I first heard of Clay Bertrand.

		JIM (V.O.)
	What was his voice like?

	You knew you weren't talking to some low life
	fag, you know.  He had command of the king's

	Did he pay?

	Always - like tits on a pig.  I wish I had a
	million of those bimbettes.

	And Oswald?

		(just a slight hesitation)
	Like I told to the Washington boys, Bertrand
	called that summer and asked me to help the kid
	upgrade his Marine discharge ...

	So you saw Oswald how many times?

	Three, four.  He came in with a few Cubano
	swishes one time I remember ...

FLASHBACK TO a third day at Andrew's office in 1963.  Oswald is in the
office with two young boys.

		JIM (V.O.)
	Recall any names?

		(in present)
	Mario, Jose - they wear names like you and I
	wear clothes.  Today the name is Candy, tomorrow
	it's Butsie.  I wish I could help you, Jim.

	Did you speak to Oswald in Dallas?

		(knee-jerk reaction)
	Hell, no!  I told this Bertrand cat right off,
	this isn't my scene, man.  I deal with muni
	court, I'm a hack in nigger town, that kid needs
	a hot dog.

	Then how the hell did you get in the Warren
	Commission, Dean?  Except through the phone
	records in the Dallas jail?

		(nervous moment)
	There were no phone records.

	Of course there weren't. 'Cause they
	disappeared.  And yet the Commission found you,

	I don't know how they got to me.  Maybe cause I
	repped him here.  The Feebees run background
	checks.  On my mama's breasts, man, that's all I
		(pauses, adjusts)
	There wasn't no conspiracy, Jim.  If there were,
	why the hell didn't Bobby Kennedy prosecute it
	as Attorney General, he was his brother for
	Chrissake.  How the fuck three people could keep
	a secret like that, I don't know.  It was
	Oswald.  He was a nut job.  Faggot, y'know,
	hated this country.

As Andrews resumes eating his crabmeat Louie with gusto, Jim reaches
over and grabs the fork in mid-air.

	Dean, I think we're having a communication
	problem.  I know you know who Clay Bertrand is.
	Now stop eating that damn crabmeat for a minute
	and listen.
		(gets Dean's attention)
	I'm aware of our long friendship, but I want you
	to know I'm going to call you in front of a
	grand jury.  I took nine judges on, Deano, right
	here in New Orleans, and I beat 'me all.  If you
	lie to the grand jury as you've been lying to
	me, I'm going to charge you with perjury.  Now,
	am I communicating with you?

Andrews puts down the fork, shaken, silent for a moment.

	Is this off the record, Daddy-o?
		(Jim nods)
	In that case, let me sum it up for you real
	quick.  If I answer that question you keep
	asking me, if I give you the name of the "Big
	Enchilada", y'know, then it's bon voyage, Deano
	- I mean like permanent.  I mean like a bullet
	in my head.  You dig?  Does that help you see my
	problem a little better?  You're a mouse
	fighting a gorilla.  Kennedy's dead as that crab
	meat.  The government's still breathing.  You
	want to line up with a dead man?

At a nearby table, a waiter has just poured brandy on Crepe Suzettes.  A
blue flame hovers in the air as Jim leans forward across the table,
speaking deliberately.

	Read my lips, Deano.  Either you dance into the
	Grand Jury with the real identity of Clay
	Bertrand or your fat behind is going to the
	slammer.  Do you dig me?

Andrews stands suddenly.

	You're just as crazy as your mama.  Goes to show
	it's in the genes!  Do you have any idea what
	you're getting into, my man?  You think Jack
	Ruby just up and died of cancer in four weeks
	after he gets a retrial?  That's some kinda new
	cancer - I'd say that's a "going out of business
	cancer".  You got the right ta-ta, but the wrong
	ho-ho.  The government's gonna jump all over
	your head, Jimbo, and go "cock-a-doodledoo!"

Andrews drops his pink napkin in the crabmeat and waddles out.  Jim now
feels closer to the truth than ever.


From the point of view of an approaching car, the prison looms over the
swamp, dogs patrolling the wire.

		VOICE (V.O.)
	District Attorney Garrison to see Prisoner 5388,
	Ward Block 237B.

	Send him on in.


A chief guard walks Jim and Bill into a circus-like atmosphere.  In
Louisiana the prisoners can wear any outfit they choose, which makes
this prison look like Mardi Gras.  There are many transvestites.

		(with evident pride)
	... we don't need no gates out there, sir, we
	got the "swamp".  Many of 'em gone in there but
	none come out ... Hey, Willie!

Willie O'Keefe, a handsome, muscled, young chickenhawk with an earring,
bandana, colorful clothes, an aura of burned truth in his intense,
staring brown eyes and thick country accent, sashays over.

	You got some company, wants to talk wid you.
	You behave now, boy, y'hear.

TIMECUT TO the prison work area, where Willie talks, leaning against a
tree looking out on a mangrove swamp.  It's lunch break and other
prisoners move in the background, eating, socializing.

	I want to thank you, Mr. O'Keefe, for this time.

	Call me Willie.  I ain't got nuthin' but time,
	Mr. Garrison.  Minutes, hours, days, years
	of'em.  Time just stands still here like a snake
	sunnin' itself in the road ...

	Clay Bertrand, Willie?

	Yeah.  Clay.  I met him sometime in June of '62
	at the Masquerade Bar.  Dave Ferrie took me
	there, for the express reason to meet him.

	For sexual purposes?

	Well ... yeah.

FLASHBACK TO the Masquerade Bar in the French Quarter.  It's nighttime
and Ferrie, Bertrand and O'Keefe sit at a back booth.  Bertrand, as seen
earlier, is an imposing, white-haired patrician man, over six feet tall,
heavily defined bones and eyelids, in his late 40's or early 50's.

		BILL (V.O.)
	Did he pay you for this?

		O'KEEFE (V.O.)
	Twenty dollars each time.  Hell, it's no secret.
	That's what I'm here for.

They rise to leave.  Bertrand with a slight limp.

		JIM (V.O.)
	Anything else unusual about him you'd be able to
	describe in a court of law, Willie?

		O'KEEFE (V.O.)
	I remember he had some kinda thing wrong with
	his left leg.  He limped.  Don't get me wrong,
	he's not one of those, youknow, limp wrists.
	He's a butch John.  You'd meet him on the
	street, you'd never snap.  You could go fishing
	with him, play poker with him, you'd never snap
	in a million years.  So one night we were over
	at Ferrie's place.  Having a party.  Sometime in
	the late summer of '63.

FLASHBACK TO Dave Ferrie's apartment on a night in 1963.  The place is
filled messy bricabrac, including two dozen mouse cages for Ferrie's
cancer experiments.  Ferrie, Bertrand, O'Keefe, and four Cubans in
battle fatigues are laughing and fooling around.  Oswald is in a corner
cleaning a .22 rifle with a scope on it.  He looks different, unkempt,
unshaven.  A record player grinds out a speech in Spanish by Castro.
Some other people are there as well - it's a beatnik scene: sandals,
hanging out, only one woman.  Ferrie is taking pictures throughout of
the group horsing around, photographing Oswald.

	... there were about nine or ten people, Cubans,
	friends of Dave doing some stuff in the bush
	with him.  Place was a mess.  Dave's mind was a
	Y'know he had all those mice cages around cause
	he's working on this cure for cancer ... Dave's
	smart - real smart - speaks five languages,
	knows philosophy, medicine, military history,
	politics.  He wanted to be a priest but they
	defrocked him 'cause he was queer ...

		BILL (V.O.)
	And that's where you met Oswald for the first

		O'KEEFE (V.O.)
	Yeah, strange guy.  Dave introduced him as ...

	Willie, say hello to Leon Oswald.

		(over the racket)
	How ya doing?

		(sullen, to Ferrie)
	What the fuck's he doing here?

	Fuck you, man.

Ferrie separates them.  Oswald seems to resent an outsider being there.

		(to O'Keefe)
	Leon's in a bad mood, don't get excited, he's
	all right.

		JIM (V.O.)
	Would you say this "Leon" was actually Lee
	Harvey Oswald?

		(in present)
	Fuck, yes.  Hell, I'm already in jail.  I got no
	reason to lie to you.  I ain't no nigger.

	Go on, Willie.

		(present merging to past)
	... well the party got crazier and crazier, one
	of those, y'know "beatnik" type things.

		(to O'Keefe)
	We're having a little meeting here.
		(indicates the second player)
	That's Castro.  Sounds like Hitler doesn't he?
	Sonofabitch is going to go.  Real soon.

	Muerte a Fidel!  Muerte!

		(irritated at the noise)
	Oh, stop it already!  What are all these people
	doing here anyway?  I can't bear all this
	infernal noise.

	Clara, don't be so sensitive.

	I didn't come here for a pep rally.  Get all
	this riffraff out of here.

	Okay, okay.

TIMECUT TO later that night, when only O'Keefe, Ferrie, Bertrand, Oswald
and three Cubans are left.

		O'KEEFE (V.O.)
	... finally they got out of there and I found
	myself alone with Dave and this Leon, two of the
	Cubans, and this guy Bertrand.  Dave pulled out
	his clippings which he was always carrying
	around.  He'd been obsessed with Castro and
	Kennedy for months and he started in again ...

		(waving a clipping, drunk)
	Kennedy fucked us in '61, '62, and he's fuckin'
	us now!  And that fuckin' zealot Bobby Kennedy
	is the fuckee!  The nerve of that little asswipe
	closing the camps.  Took all our C-4!  Took ten
	thousand rounds, 3,000 pounds of gunpowder, all
	our weapons.  Next we'll be living in a world
	where only the cocksucking Reds will have all
	the weapons and we'll be surrounded.  If we want
	a free Cuba, we gotta whack out the fucking

	That faggot Kennedy won't let us.  Our hands are
	empty - how can we kill him?

		(moving with a drink, walks with a
slight limp)
	It's a real problem getting at him.  Castro's
	got informers on every block.

		(pointing to a map of Cuba on the
	Bullshit!  There's all kinds of new stuff.  I
	heard about rockets in an umbrella - they're
	tested at Fort Detrick?  I can show you a dozen
	poisons.  Stick it in his food, he'll die in
	three days, no trace.  We can put something in
	his beard, make it fall out, he'll look fuckin'
	ridiculous without his beard.

	Why don't we just take care of the main problem?
	Which is that piece of shit Kennedy.  He's doing
	all kinds of deals!  Kissing Khrushchev's ass.
	I wouldn't even call him President Kennedy.

		O'KEEFE (V.O.)
	... then the Cubans left and the bullshitting
	was going on, Dave was drunk, really drunk and
	he starts in with Kennedy again.

	See, what Kennedy done, with him you should take
	a knife and stab and kill the fucker where he is
	now.  I mean it.  This is true.  But I tell you
	something.  I hope I get a week's notice.  I'll
	kill.  Right in the fuckin' White House.
	Somebody's got to get rid of this fucker.

Oswald looks up, listens quietly.

	Oh, c'mon, Dave, you're never gonna get that

	No?  It won't be long, mark my words.  That
	fucker'll get what's coming to him.  And it can
	be blamed on Castro.  Then the whole country'll
	want to invade Cuba.  All we got to do is get
	Kennedy in the open.

Bertrand with his arms around O'Keefe, laughs, tries to change the

	David, David, always some harebrained scheme or
	another ... Oh?  What do I see here?  Oooooh,
	let's have some more champagne, shall we!

		(interested in Ferrie's proposal)
	What about the Secret Service, the cops?

		(pacing, hyper)
	No problem if it's planned right.  Look how
	close they got with de Gaulle.  Eisenhower was
	always riding around in an open top.  I know
	somebody who actually went up and touched
	Eisenhower once.  We need to have three
	mechanics at three different locations.  An
	office building with a high-powered rifle.
	Triangulation of crossfire is the key.  You get
	the diversionary shot gets the Secret Service
	looking one way - Boom!  You get the kill shot.
	The crucial thing is one man has to be
	sacrificed, then in the commotion of the crowd
	the job gets done and the others fly out of the
	country to someplace with no extradition.  I
	could do that myself.  I could fly to Mexico,
	and then Brazil.

Oswald listens, playing with his rifle.  Bertrand suddenly turns cold,
flashing a look at Ferrie.

	Why don't we drop this subject ... it's one
	thing to engage in badinage with these
	youngsters, but this sort of thing could be so
	easily misunderstood.
		(he squeezes Ferrie)


		O'KEEFE (V.O.)
	I didn't think much about it at the time.  Just
	bullshit, y'know, everybody likes to make
	themselves out to be something more than they
	are.  Specially in the homosexual underworld.
	But then when they got him
		(merging to the present)
	I got real scared, y'know.  Real scared.  And
	that's when I got popped.

BACK TO the prison work area.  Jim and O'Keefe continue talking.

	Willie, are you willing to repeat your
	statements under sodium pentothal?  Under the
	supervision of a doctor?

	Fuck, yeah!  I told you so.  And you can tell'em
	all I told you so.

	You realize the things you're saying, Willie,
	are going to be attacked by a lot of different

	Bring on all the motherfuckers!  Bring their
	college degrees in here!  I got nuthin' to hide.
	They can't buy me.  You can't buy me.  I don't
	even need the parole.  This is about the truth
	coming out.  You're a goddamn liberal, Mr.
	Garrison, you don't know shit, cause you never
	been fucked in the ass.  Fascism is here now,
	Facism is ...

	No one's trying to buy you, Willie.  It's
	important to know why you're telling us this.

	You wanna know why?  'Cause that mother fucker
	Kennedy stole that fuckin' election, that's why!
	Nixon was gonna be one of the great Presidents
	'til Kennedy wrecked this fuckin' country.  Got
	niggers all over the fuckin' place asking for
	their rights, where do you think we got all this
	fuckin' crime now, 'cause Kennedy promised 'em
	too damned much.  Revolution comin'.  Fascism's
	coming back.  I tell ya this - the day that
	Communist sumbitch died was a great day for this
	country.  I jes' hate to think they're blaming
	it on some silly fuckin' Oswald who didn't know
	shit anyway.  People should know why that
	sumbitch was killed.  'Cause he was a Communist.
	Put me on the stand, go ahead, I'll tell the
	same goddamn story, I'm proud of it, don't
	matter fuck all to me, things don't change.

As he talks, Jim shares a sickened look with Bill.  Whatever truth he
may be telling is necessarily compromised by an attitude that could be
destroyed in court.


Jim, Lou, Al, Susie, and Numa sit around the table having an after hours
conference.  The kids run in and out of the room, playing.  Susie is
doing the talking, showing new paperwork and photos.

	Your hunch was right, boss, but it's even
	spookier than we thought.  Starting in September
	'63 on, two months before the assassination,
	there are sightings of Oswald all over Dallas,
	buying ammunition, getting a telescopic sight
	fixed, going to rifle ranges ... Early November,
	a Dallas downtown Lincoln-Mercury dealership
	where he tells the salesman Albert Bogard ...

FLASHBACK TO the Lincoln-Mercury dealership.  Oswald is deliberately
kept in half or three quarter shots - a mystery figure.  He kicks the
tires on a used red Mercury Comet, cocky.

	Let's take it out for a test drive.

The salesman, Bogard, is hesitant.  "Oswald" doesn't look like he's got
a dime to his name.

		(sensing Bogard's hesitancy)
	Hey, I got a lotta money coming in the next two

In the next scene we see the car, driven by "Oswald", zooming up the
ramp and disappearing onto the freeway.

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	... despite the fact he has no license and from
	what marina says, does not know how to drive, he
	hits the curves like Mario Andretti at the Indy
	500.  Bogard later told his boss he drove "like
	a madman."

Resume the scene at the dealership.

	Three hundred bucks down, Mr. Oswald, you can
	drive outta here with it.

"Oswald", unhappy, starts to leave.

	Who you kidding!  For this heap?  Forget it ...
	No honest working man can afford a car anymore
	in the goddamn country!  Maybe I'll have to go
	back to Russia to buy a car ...

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	... really dumb dialogue like he's trying to
	draw attention to himself.  A real moron.  He
	walks out.  The salesman remembers him as about
	5'7", but we know from his draft card he was
	about 5'11" ...

	... several witnesses see him on several
	separate days at different firing ranges.

FLASHBACK TO a Dallas firing range in 1963.

		LOU (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	... one time, November 9, he decides he needs to
	practice on the target of the guy next to him.
	Says something really dumb to the guy, who says
	Oswald was a great shot.

	Hey, watcha doing, boy ... that's my target.

	Hey, sorry, buddy.  I just thought it was that
	sonofabitch Kennedy, y'know.  I couldn't help

		(in present)
	... about as subtle as a cockroach crawling
	across a white rug.

	I'll go you one better, Lou.  He shows up at
	Silvia Odio's, a Cuban lady in Dallas working in
	the anti-Castro underground - remember that
	name, a solid witness.  The two Cubans introduce
	him as "Leon Oswald".

FLASHBACK TO the corridor of Silvia Odio's apartment in Dallas on a
night in 1963.  Oswald drags behind two Cubans - one is "the Bull",
heavyset with a scar over his left eye, who we saw at the Canal Street
incident, and the other, "the Indian", is quiet and cold.  The men ring
the doorbell and talk to a concerned Silvia as Oswald hangs back,
watching, in the shadows..  The men give her intimate information about
her father, who is imprisoned in Cuba.  The men chatter ad lib in

	... the Cubans want Silvia, whose parents are
	political prisoners in Cuba, to help them raise
	money to assassinate Castro.  Something about
	the men bothers her.  She tells them she doesn't
	want anything to do with violence ... about 48
	hours later one of the Cubans calls her back ...

We see a shot of Silvia on the phone in her apartment intercut with a
shot of "the Bull" in a gas station phone booth, on a night in 1963.

		(on the phone, in Spanish)
	This guy Leon Oswald's great, he's kinda nut ...
	he told us we don't any guts, us Cubans, cause
	Kennedy should've been whacked after the Bay of
	Pigs, and some Cubans should've done that, it's
	easy to do, he says -you know he's a Marine, an
	expert shooter ...

Silvia Odio is surprised to hear this information volunteered.  "The
Bull's" eyes are on "Oswaldo", outside the booth with "the Indian".
They're hanging out, talking to a mystery man, an Anglo.

	It's like he's giving her information she
	doesn't even ask for.  She's scared, doesn't see
	them again till she sees Oswald's picture in the
	paper.  But the Warren Commission says she has
	bad eyesight because they have Oswald in Mexico
	at this time, trying to get back into Cuba.  The
	Cubans think he's a double agent so they won't
	take him.  The CIA has a camera outside the
	Cuban Embassy and says this is Oswald in Mexico.
		(hands over a picture)
	You figure it.

Jim looks at the famous photo ... the camera closes in on a heavyset man
who looks nothing like Oswald.  Liz has come back in and overhears.

	If this is Oswald, it must be our third Oswald.

	The interesting thing is the extent to which the
	Warren Commission went to make him a Communist.
	They got almost 150 pages and 130 exhibits of
	the report on this Mexico trip and the picture
	doesn't even match.  I'm beginning to think the
	point of the Mexican episode was to lay the
	blame at Castro's door.  If Oswald, or someone
	purporting to be Oswald, had gotten into Cuba,
	come back, then killed the President, the
	American public once again would've screamed for
	a Cuban invasion ...

Susie picks up the famous Life magazine cover shot of Oswald holding a
rifle in his backyard.

	I even have doubts about this photo, boss.  It
	pretty much convicted Oswald in the public mind.
	Well, according to Captain Fritz, Oswald told
	him during his interrogation the photo was fake.

FLASHBACK TO the Dallas Homicide Office in 1963.  Oswald is being
interrogated by Will Fritz, Dallas Homicide Chief, who shows him the
original of the photo from the Williams garage.

	That's not me.

	It came from Janet William's garage.

	Well, I never saw that picture.  It is my face,
	but my face has been super-imposed - the rest of
	the picture is not me at all.  I've done a lot
	of photographic work, and that picture was made
	by someone else.

	So who the hell are you?  Alex Hidell or Oswald?

	Well, you're the policeman, you work it out.

		(in the present)
	Oswald, who worked for Jaggars-Chiles-Stovall,
	did know spy photography pretty well.  I took
	this picture to two experts.  Look at the way
	the shadows on the nose fall in a straight line
	like it's high noon.  But the shadow here on the
	ground reads like late afternoon or early
	morning.  It's not the same time.  Also look at
	the crop marks across the chin.  It seems like
	his head is pasted on somebody else's body
	implicating him with this rifle and gun.

We see a blowup of the photo - the shadows, the crop mark.

	And of the two newspapers in his hands, one is
	Leninist, the other Trotskyite.  Any genuine
	Socialist would know they hate each other's


Broussard walks past a jazz wake leaving the cemetery - black flambeurs
carry torches, people sing "When the Saints Go Marching in".  Bill is
with a local gambler type.

	Clay Bertrand?  Sure I know him.  He comes
	around the Quarter.

	Who is he, Joe?  I've been to every bar, no one
	wants to talk.

	I told your uncle I never met a lawman who
	wasn't a punk.  You too, Bill, even if you're
	family.  He's a big shot businessman.  I seen
	him on the TV news a lot with all the other big
	shots.  A fag, you know.  Goes by another name
	down here.

	What's the other name?

	Shaw.  Clay Shaw.

	Clay Bertrand is Clay Shaw?  The guy who used to
	run the International Trade Mart?

	Yeah, what's the big mystery?  Everybody down
	here knows the guy.

	So why does he call himself Bertrand?

	Who gives a shit what he calls himself?


	... now it gets positively spooky.  In January,
	1961 - in New Orleans, at the Bolton Ford
	Dealership - when the Oswald we know is in
	Russia - there is a man using the name "Oswald"
	to buy trucks for the Friends of Democratic
	Cuba.  The salesman never saw him again, but
	guess who's on the articles of incorporation of
	the Friends of Democratic Cuba?  Guy Banister.
		(reactions from the others)
	Banister has someone using the name "Oswald" to
	buy the trucks.  Hoover, at the FBI, writes a
	memo dated June, 1960, that there could be
	someone using Oswald's passport and identity.

	Goddamn!  They put Oswald together from Day One!
	Like some dummy corporation in the Bahamas - you
	just move him around a board.  Sent him to
	Russia, in and out, no passport problems.  You
	got the word "microdots" in his notebook, you
	got the Minox camera and the electronic devices
	they find in his possessions, the sealed DIZ201
	personnel file.  For all we know, there could be
	a dozen Oswalds in different cities, countries -
	all of them leaving a trail of incriminating
	evidence that could easily be traced to a
	scapegoat after the assassination.  Does the
	real Oswald know he's been put together?  Who
	knows.  It doesn't matter, does it?  He's a low
	level spy, he doesn't know who he really works
	for ...
	Let's call it a night.
		(to Lou)
	Anything new on Ruby?

The staff members, anxious to go home, have all risen ... and now sigh.

	Mobbed up all the way.  Tight with the Dallas
	cops.  I'm digging, chief.  I just need 10 more
	men and some more dollars.

	I know you do, Lou.  I'm doing three more
	lectures this month.  You're all doing an
	incredible job, Sue, Al, Numa.  But this is one
	where if you don't nail the other guy, you're
		(he pulls a book from the bookcase
for Lou)
	How did Jack Ruby dies so quick?  Of what?
	Cancer, right?  A history of Nazi Germany, Lou.
	They were studying viral cancers as a weapon in
	the 30's.  We learned a lot more than you think
	from the Nazis.  Read this.  Our biological
	warfare lab is in Fort Detrick, Maryland.  Close
	to where the National Cancer Institute is
	located.  Think about it.  Think the unthinkable
	- question everything.

	Even my own wife, chief,
		(looking at his watch)
	Who's wondering where I am?

		(looking at Liz)
	Even your own wife, Numa.  Any of you want to
	quit, do me a favor ... put us out of our

They all raise their hands as Bill walks in, excited.

	I fould Clay Bertrand.

They all stop, look.


	Grab your socks and pull ... Clay Bertrand is
	Clay Shaw ...

	No! ... Shaw!  Director of The Trade Mart?  This
	is incredible.

	Pillar of the community by day, gay bars at

Liz Garrison is the most shaken, as she pours a fresh pot of coffee.

	Can you get some sworn statements?

	That's gonna be tough.  Nobody's talking.

	I think we should have him in for a little talk.

	Do you have any evidence against him, Jim?  Clay
	Shaw's done so much for the city with all that
	restoration in the Quarter.  He's well
	connected, all his friends, the money, people,
	be careful, Jim.

	It'll be off the record, honey.  I'll bring him
	in on a Sunday.  A quiet little chat between

Liz walks out of the room silent.  There is a tense pause.


The TV is on to the latest Vietnam Reports - combat footage.

	In heavy fighting in Vietnam today, seven more
	American soldiers died and 23 were wounded.  The
	body count for this week now stands at 67
	Americans and 626 enemy soldiers killed in

Liz plays with the kids looking for Easter eggs.  The dog is barking -
it's a scene of commotion.  Jim is getting ready to go out.

	Jim, come on, honey, get down on your hands and
	knees and hunt for Jasper's Easter egg.

	You know I don't like these tribal rituals,
	Freckle Face.  I'm interviewing Clay Shaw this

		(as TV cuts to President Johnson)
	President Johnson, meanwhile at an informal
	press conference, said he regretted that there
	is no end in sight to the war in Vietnam, where
	500,000 American troops are now fighting.  "We
	face more cost, more loss, and more agony."  In
	his proposal to raise taxes, Johnson ...

	But Jim, we're going to Antoine's with the kids
	- like we do every year.

	No.  I told you I was going to talk to Shaw.

	But why in the Lord's name would you do it in
	the middle of Easter Sunday when you knew we
	were ...

		(annoyed with her look)
	Because when I scheduled it I didn't realize it
	was a holiday.  You were there, why didn't you
	say something?

	Look at the calendar, for Christ's sake.  You
	said a Sunday, not Easter Sunday.

	I'm sorry, but it's important.  Clay Shaw is
	important.  I'm sorry.

	You're missing most of your life, Jim, and you
	don't even know it.  The kids are missing out
	It's not just you making the sacrifice here,

	Look, I'll rush and be there by two, I promise.
	Go ahead without me.

As he leaves, the camera holds on Liz.


Clay Shaw ("Bertrand"), in an elegant white summer suit, is shown in.
Indeed, there is a slight limp to his gait which Jim notices right away.
He shares a look with Bill.  Susie is also in the room.  Shaw's rich
bassoon voice drips with dialect.  Imperiously smoking a Gaulois, Shaw
has about him an air of authority matched only by Jim's.

	Mr. Garrison - what can I do for you on Easter

	I'm sorry, Mr. Shaw, to interrupt this holiday,
	but I feel this is a conversation we might
	better have out of the everyday bustle in this
	office ...

	I'm not sure I understand.

		(bringing some papers forward)
	Well ... in an investigation we're conducting
	your name has come up a number of times.

	I wouldn't imagine where.

	We recently talked to a number of men who claim
	to know you.  Are you acquainted with a David

	No.  Never heard of him.

	A Perry Russo?


	A Willie O'Keefe?

	No, I don't believe I know anyone by that name.

	Mr. O'Keefe told us he met you at the Masquerade
	Bar down in the Quarter and several evenings
	later you had him over for dinner at your
	apartment on Dauphine Street.  Do you recall

FLASHBACK TO Clay's Dauphine Street residence, in the Quarter, at night
in 1962.  The butler opens the door and O'Keefe is admitted to the
townhouse.  Shaw appears behind the butler.

		SHAW (V.O.)
		(in present)
	Of course not.  I don't know this man.
	Obviously then, I wouldn't have him to dinner.
	Incidentally, I do not live in an apartment.
	It's an 1860's house built by Gallier.  I've
	restored it faithfully.  You know I am quite an
	advocate of restoration.

At Shaw's house, dinner is served at a long table by the black butler.
The table is decorated by a sumptuous setting of silver and candelabra.
Shaw uses a bell to summon the butler.

		JIM (V.O.)
	Perhaps a few more details about the evening
	will refresh your memory.  Mr. O'Keefe told us
	dinner was served by a uniformed waiter - a
	colored man.  He particularly remembers that you
	sat at one end and he at the other - which he
	found rather unusual because the table was so
	long.  Does that bring back memories of Willie

		(in present)
	Not at all.  But on the other hand, I do have a
	lovely Chippendale dining table and I often have
	a friend over sitting at one end while I sit at
	the other.  That is precisely the point of a
	long dining table.  The splendor of the meal
	adds to the enjoyment of it.

	I would imagine a uniformed waiter helps.

	It adds a taste of elegance for which I must
	confess a weakness for now and then.  I call him
	Smedley.  His real name is Frankie Jenkins - but
	I could hardly imagine anything more uncouth
	during dinner than my turning toward the kitchen
	and hollering "Frankie!" ... Where is this
	leading to, Mr. Garrison?

Willie O'Keefe and Clay Shaw leave the dining table.

		JIM (V.O.)
	After dinner you paid him to have sex with you.

		SHAW (V.O.)
	Pffft!  Absolute nonsense.  The Quarter is
	filled with vivid imaginations, my dear Mr.
	Garrison - grimy young hoodlums who'll say and
	do anything.  As you well know.

		JIM (V.O.)
	... in the course of that night, Mr. O'Keefe
	said a man named David Ferrie stopped by the
	house ... along with another young man ...

At Shaw's townhouse, we see Ferrie coming in, with another young

		SHAW (V.O.)

		JIM (V.O.)
	David Ferrie.

		SHAW (V.O.)
	No.  I have never known anyone by that name.  Of
	course never having met Mr. O'Keefe I could
	hardly have met Mr. Ferrie ...

		JIM (V.O.)
	... and that the four of you partied early into
	the morning hours ...

We see the four men in drag, smiling for the flash camera, champagne
bottles in hand.  Ferrie sniffs some poppers, then shoves a popper in
Shaw's face.

		(to Shaw)
	You're mine, Mary.  Go get the fucking tools
	out, bitch.  Now!  I want some ass.

Ferrie forces more poppers on Shaw.  The camera movies to Shaw's
bedroom, where Ferrie scatters a drawer full of leather tools.

		(to Shaw)
	Come here, bitch.
		(Ferrie grabs Shaw by the hair)
	You want this?  The only way you get this is do
	what I say.
		(Ferrie whacks Shaw)
	I'm the man.  Don't ever forget it.
		(Shaw begs and whines)
	You want it?  You want it?
		(Ferrie spits on Shaw)
	Fuck you and your rich friends.  You're nothing
	but a rich whore!  You're my woman!  Get the
		(to young man)
	Strip!  Now, woman.  I want to see skin.

BACK TO Garrison's office.

		(in present)
	Let me show you his picture.
		(he hands Shaw a general photo of

		(in present)
	No.  I'm sure I've never met anyone of such a
	bizarre appearance.

	Does the name Clay Bertrand mean anything to

	Clay Bertrand?  Clay Bertrand?  I believe there
	was a man with a name similar to that who worked
	at the Chamber of Commerce.  Is that the man you
	had in mind?

	No, it was not.  Do you know an attorney by the
	name of Dean Andrews?

	One meets so many attorneys in my business.
	Nod, I don't believe I know Dean Andrews.

Jim is getting incredibly irritated.  He feels Shaw is lying.

CUT TO Antoine's Restaurant, where Liz and all five kids look at menus.

	I'm hungry!  When're we gonna eat!

	We're going to start without him and he'll be
	here for dessert.  Snapper, you put that back!

	I want a Shirley Temple!

	Me, too.

	When's Daddy coming, Mama?

	Soon.  He's real sorry he can't start with us
	but he's promised to be here.

BACK TO Garrison's office later that day.  Everyone looks tired as the
questioning goes on.  Shaw sucks on endless Gauloises.

		(handing a photo to Shaw)
	Mr. Shaw, can you identify this man?

		(he looks up)
	Are you claiming, Mr. Garrison, that Mr. Oswald
	also had dinner with me?

	Mr. Shaw, did you ever meet Lee Harvey Oswald?

	You really have me consorting with a cast of
	sordid characters, don't you, Mr. Garrison.

	Please answer the question.

	Of course not!  Such a pity, that assassination.
	In fact, I admired President Kennedy.  A man
	with true panache, and a wife with impeccable

Jim shows Shaw a newspaper clipping.

	Mr. Shaw, this is an Italian newspaper article
	saying you were a member of the Board of Centro
	Mondo Commerciale in Italy, that this company
	was a creature of the CIA for the transfer of
	funds in Italy for illegal political-espionage
	activities.  It says that this company was
	expelled from Italy for those activities.

	I'm well aware of this asinine article.  And I
	am thinking very seriously of suing this rag of
	a newspaper.

	It says that this company has heavily Fascist
	ties to the French secret army organization that
	tried to assassinate de Gaulle in 1960.

	Nonsense.  What next?

	... and that this company is linked to the
	Schlumber tool company here in Houma, Louisiana
	- which is where their arms may have come from
	to David Ferrie and his Cubans ...

	Mr. Garrison, you're reaching.  I am an
	international businessman.  The Trade Mart which
	I founded is America's commercial pipeline to
	Latin America.  I trade everywhere.  I am
	accused, as are all businessmen, of all things.
	I somehow go about my business, make money, help
	society the best I can and try to promote free
	trade in this world.

	Mr. Shaw, have you ever been a contract agent
	with the Central Intelligence Agency?

Shaw glares at him.  Silence.

		(with powerful contempt)
	And if I was, Mr. Garrison ... do you think I
	would be here today ... talking to somebody like

	No, people like you don't have to, I guess -
	people like you walk between the raindrops.

	May I go?  Regardless of what you may think of
	me, Mr. Garrison, I am a patriot first and

	I've spent half my life in the United States
	military serving and defending this great
	country, Mr. Shaw, and you're the first person I
	ever met who considered it an act of patriotism
	to kill his own president.

	Now just a minute, sir!  You're way out of line!

Susie and Bill quiet Jim down.

	Come on, chief.
		(as he shows Shaw to the door)
	I'm sorry, Mr. Shaw, it's getting late.  That's
	all the questions we have.  Thank you for your
	honesty and for coming in today.

	I enjoyed meeting with you gentlemen, and you,
	Miss Cox.  It was most pleasant.  I wish to
	extend to each of you - and to each of your
	families - my best wishes for a happy Easter.
		(he exits.)

		(beat, excited)
	"One may smile and smile and be a villain."
	Goddammit!  We got one of 'me!


Jim walks in, contrite.  Liz is shutting down the house.  Some of the
kids are still up.

	Daddy!  Where have you been?

		(kisses Liz)
	Hi, Freckle Face.


	Tough day.

	My sympathies.

	Liz, I'm really sorry.  The meeting went much
	longer than expected.

	We waited for you ... hours, Jim.  You could
	have telephoned, for God's sake.  It's Easter!
	You promised, Jim.

	I don't know what to say except I'm sorry.  I
	just don't have rabbits on my mind.

	I think you care more about John Kennedy than
	your family!  All day long the kids are asking,
	"Where's Daddy?"  What am I supposed to tell
	your kids, Jim!

	I don't know what to tell them.  How 'bout the
	truth - I'm doing my job to make sure they can
	grow up in a country where justice won't be an
	arcane, vanished idea they read about in history
	books, like the dinosaurs or the lost continent
	of Atlantis.

	That sounds dandy, but it doesn't replace a
	father and a husband on Easter Day.

		(angry, turns away)
	It's going to get worse, honey.


Jim, is coming down the corridor with Broussard, is confronted by some
20 local journalists and TV crew members.  We hear a hubbub of fierce
questioning - ad libs but Jim, puzzled, brushes by, seeking refuge in
his office.  Lou, Al, Numa and Susie are all waiting for him.  The
regular staff - some 30 people - are looking, wondering.  Lou presents
him with the front page of the New Orleans States-Item.

	Congratulations, Boss - you're page one!

We see a close-up of the headline: "D.A. LAUNCHES FULL J.F.K. DEATH PLOT
PROBE - Mysterious Trips Cost Large Sums."


		(striding into his office reading
the paper)
	Goddamn Sam!

	And it ain't pretty
		(reading the copy)
	... "the AD has spent more than $8,000 on
	unexplained travel and investigative expenses
	since November, 1966.

	They went to the public records and got the
	vouchers we requested for withdrawals.

	Shaw must've gotten them on our tail.

	Could be Ferrie, Martin, Andrews, any of 'em.

	We didn't talk to Ruby 'cause of them and
	they're on our asses for a measly $8,000!

Jim, at his desk, finishes reading the article.  A huge picture of him
is on the front page.  He puts down the paper, reaching for a long, gold
pen that is part of the desk set.

	They hunted down the news, it's their business.
	Getting angry doesn't accomplish a damned thing,
	but this changes everything.  We either pull out
	now or we go through some heavy flack together.

They look at each other.

	Bear in mind, each of you, this may affect the
	rest of your careers, your lives ...
	... if any of you pull out, I assure you I will
	bear no ill feelings towards that person and
	will reassign you to regular duties.

No takers.

	There it is then.  Thank you.  It means very
	much to me.  I'm giving this office $6,000 from
	my National Guard savings so we can continue.  I
	will make speeches where I can to pick up
	additional money.  Some local businessmen are
	putting together a fund for us and ...

		(coming in)
	Mr. Garrison, what shall I tell them?  They're
	piling up outside the door.  They want a
	statement, the phones are going crazier than
	bugs on a cake.

Everyone waits.  Jim stands, repacks his briefcase with papers and
reference books and heads for the back door elevator.

	Neither confirm, deny, nor discuss, Sharon.
	Goodbye, ladies, gentlemen, I'm going home where
	I can get a decent day's work done.


Lou drinks a beer in front of the TV news in his small bachelor
apartment.  A fan is blowing.

	Mr. Garrison's own silence on the subject has
	raised some interesting questions.  With
	taxpayer money has he uncovered some valuable
	new evidence or is he merely saving the
	information which will gain for him exposure on
	a national level?  Mr. Garrison it seems, should
	have some explanation.

The phone rings and Ivon picks it up.


		(very agitated)
	Did your office plant that garbage in the
	fucking paper?

	Who is this?

	You know damn well who it is.


	Yeah, you got it.  Since you're the only
	straight shooter in that fuckin' office, I'd
	like an answer from you.  Did you plant it?

	Dave, do you think we're out of our minds?  The
	whole building's been a zoo since that broke.
	We can't get a thing done.  Reporters crawling
	everywhere.  You think we want that?

We see Ferrie in a phone booth on the street outside his apartment house
in the French Quarter.  He's a nervous wreck, watching the reporters and
TV cameras surrounding his place, waiting for him.

	Somebody planted that fucking story!  And
	somebody tipped off the press I'm one of
	Garrison's fucking suspects.  I can't go home.
	I'm out on the street.  The maggots are
	everywhere!  Do you know what you've done to me?
	It's all over the national news now.  You know
	what you've done to me?

	Calm down, Dave, what?

	I'm a dead man!  From here on, believe me, I'm a
	dead man.

	What are you talking about, Dave?  You weren't
	mentioned in the story.  Don't jump to

	You think your investigation's been all that
	secret?  You know, when you talk to people, they
	talk to other people.

	What did they ...

	You still questioning any Cubans?

	Dave, you know that's where this road leads.

	It leads farther than that.

	Dave, just calm down.  Meet me in the lobby of
	the Fontainbleau in 20 minutes.  I'll have a
	suite reserved for you under an assumed name.

	The Fontainbleau?  20 minutes?

	Yeah.  Come on, Dave, come on our side.  I
	guarantee you the boss'll protect you ...
		(there's a long silence as Ferrie,
torn, agonizes)

	... give me protection?

	Yeah!  He'd kill for you Dave.  He likes you.
	Your mind.

	I got no place to sleep.  I'll meet you in 20

Ferrie hangs up.  Pause.  At his end, Lou Ivon hangs up, excited.


The phone rings.  Liz picks it up.  Jim is watching the TV news:  Martin
Luther King is delivering a speech against the Vietnam War.

		(on TV)
	President Kennedy said on one occasion, "Mankind
	must put an end to war, or war will put an end
	to mankind."  I pray God that America will hear
	this before it's too late, because today we're
	fighting a war I'm convinced is one of the most
	unjust wars that has ever been fought in the
	history of the world.

		(on the phone meanwhile, testy)
	No, he's not here now.  And he would not take
	calls here if he were!  So please call the
	office number.  Thank you.
		(hangs up)
	Tow of them even had the gall to come to the
	door this afternoon, one all the way from

	Did they live?

	It's not funny, Jim, I'm scared.

	Don't be.  Nothing to be scared about, honey, I
	been through four years of war - this is

The phone rings again.

		(on TV)
	... sending them 8,000 miles away to guarantee
	liberties in Southeast Asia which they have not
	found in Southwest Georgia or East Harlem.  So
	we have been repeatedly faced with the cruel
	irony of watching Negro and white boys on TV
	screens as they kill and die for a nation that
	has been unable to seat them together in the
	same school.

	I haven't, Jim.

	Nothing is going to happen to you.  I won't let

	Leave us ALONE for God's sake!
		(recognizes the voice)
	... Oh, it's Lou.


Jim and Lou watch as Ferrie paces wildly, speeding.

	I'm caught in the middle.  They're after me.
	It's almost over.

	Listen, Dave, why don't we order some room
	service, have a bite, relax.  I'll stay as long
	as you want.

	I don't know who to trust anymore.  Yeah, sure I
	could use a pot of hot coffee and a few packs of
	Camels.  You got anything new in the

As Lou picks up the phone and orders room service, Jim answers.

	You mean about the Cubans getting trained north
	of the lake?

	Oh, you got that?  Banister's pet project.
	Getting paid by the government to work against
	the government.  Beautiful.  What a mind he had,
	what a guy, Guy.  He had all those files.

	Who was paying you, Dave?

	You think I was a getaway pilot for the
	assassination, don't you?

	I don't know.  Were you?
		(Dave laughs)
	Who you scared of, Dave?

	Everybody!  The Agency.  The Mob.  The Cubans.
	Yeah, follow the Cubans.  Check them out.  Here,
	in Dallas, Miami.  Check out a guy named Eladio
	del Valle.  My paymaster when I flew missions
	into Cuba - he's somewhere in Miami.  You're on
	the right track.

Lou writes it down.  Seeing him writing makes Ferrie even more paranoid.

	Hold it!  Hold it!  I'm not cooperating with
	anyone.  There's a death warrant for me, don't
	you get it?  Wait a minute.  You're not bugged,
	are you?

He feels Lou for bugs, but out of a sense of hierarchy, ignores Jim.  He
checks around the room - the phone, behind paintings, flower vase, light
fixtures - as the batty conversation continues:

	Dave, I always play square.  No bugs.  I'd love
	you to go on the record, but I"m in no hurry.
	Whenever you're ready.

		(checking the room)
	I don't have much time.  They don't even need
	bugs anymore.  They got these fuckin' satellite
	waves.  They put a bug in a friend of mine when
	he was born, right up his nostrils,
	subcutaneous, between his eyes.  He was one of
	those products of a crossbreading experiment.  A
	Nazi rocket scientist father and a Commie spy
	mother.  You'd never believe half the shit the
	Agency does.
		(holding his neck)
	I'm so fuckin' tired.  Haven't slept since that
	shit article came out.  Why'd you guys have to
	go and get me involved with this?

	Did we involve you, Dave, or did Clay Shaw?

	That cocksuckin' faggot!  He's got me by the

	What do you mean?

	Photographs - compromising stuff.  And he'll use
	'em.  The Agency plays for keeps ...
		(checks the room for bugs)
	I knew Oswald.  He was in my Civil Air Patrol
	unit.  I taught him everything.  A "wanna be,"
	y'know, nobody really liked him cause he was a
	snitch.  I treated him good.  He'd talk about
	his kid, y'know, really wanted her to grow up
	with a chance, but ... He got a raw deal.  The
	Agency fucked him.  Just like they're gonna fuck

	Let me get this straight, now.  Clay Shaw is
	blackmailing you?

	Fuckin' A.  How do you think the Agency gets
	people to do their bullshit?  Fuck knows what
	they got on Oswald!

Room service knocks, and Ferrie jumps and rushes to the bathroom.

	Who is it?

	Room service.

Jim whispers something and Lou goes to the door, takes the service table
without letting the bellhop in.  Jim, excited but trying to stay even,
continues with Ferrie.

	Was it the same Oswald, Dave, that was in
	Dallas, or was it an impersonator.

	Same one.  I didn't know no impersonator.

FLASHBACK TO Ferrie at the party with Oswald (obscured) per Willie
O'Keefe's witness.  Jim, in the present, doesn't feel right about it.

	Did you take a good look at the TV when they had

		(shrugs, can't be bothered)
	Black, black - just give it to me.
		(takes the fresh coffee from Lou,
lights a Camel)
	Shit.  I'm so exhausted.  My neck is killing me.
	I've got cancer.  Had it for years.  I been
	working with mice, y'know, trying to come up
	with a cure.

	Dave, can I just ask you this directly?  did you
	ever work for the CIA?

	You make it sound like some remote fuckin'
	experience in ancient history.  Man, you never
	leave the Agency.  Once they got you, you're in
	for life.

	And Shaw?

	Shaw's an "untouchable", man - highest
	clearance.  Shaw, Oswald, the Cubans - all

	What about Ruby?

	Jack?  Jack was a pimp.  A bagman in Dallas for
	the Mob.  He used to run guns to Castro when he
	was still on our side.  Check out Jack
	Youngblood.  Shit - we almost had Castro.  Then
	we tried to whack him.  Everybody's flipping
	sides all the time.  It's fun 'n' games, man fun
	'n' games.

	What about the mob, Dave?  How do they figure in

	They're Agency, too.  Don't you get it?  CIA and
	Mafia together.  Trying to whack out the Beard.
	Mutual interests.  They been doing it for years.
	There's more to this than you dream.  FBI
	fucking hates the CIA.  Navy Intelligence got
	something to do with it too.  Check out "Alan
	Pope" in Miami.  Jack Youngblood.  Bill Harvey.
	Colonel Roselli.  The shooter, I hear, was a
	Dallas cop - the bagman at Ruby's club.  I heard
	he shot his own partner.  Got that?  Check out
	the rich fucks in Dallas.  H.L. Hunt.  He's
	dirty.  That's all I know.  But the Agency
	always runs the show.  Check out something
	called "Mongoose"  Operation Mongoose.
	Government, Pentagon stuff, they're in charge,
	but who the fuck pulls whose chain who the fuck
	knows, fun 'n' games man - check out Southeast
	Asia - that's the next big number - the heroin
	trail.  "Oh, what a deadly web we weave when we
	practice to deceive."

	Then who killed the President?

	Oh man, why don't you stop.  This is too fuckin'
	big for you!  Who did Kennedy?  It's a mystery
	wrapped in a riddle inside an enigma.  Even the
	shooters don't fuckin' know!  Don't you get it
	yet?  I can't be talking like this.  They're
	gonna kill me.  I'm gonna die!
		(he sits down, cracking, sobbing)
	I don't know what happened.  All I wanted in the
	world was to be a Catholic priest - live in a
	monastery, study ancient Latin manuscripts,
	pray, serve God.  But I had this one terrible,
	fatal weakness.  They defrocked me.  And then I
	started to lose everything.

He bows his head, holding it in his hands, and his wig starts to come
off in his hands.

	Shit!  Forgot to glue this fuckin' rug today.
	You know, at one time I even had a full head of
	hair like everyone else.  And then I lost that.
	That fuckin' Clay Shaw.  I hate the bastard.
	All I got left is in his rotten, bloody hands.
	He tipped the newspapers - I know it.  That's
	how the Agency works.  They use people, chew
	them up, spit 'em out.  Now it's my turn.

	Dave, it's going to be okay.  Just talk to us on
	the record and we'll protect you.  I guarantee

There's a long silence.  Ferrie, spent, stares at Jim.  He's about to
crack, but ...

	They'll get to you, too - they'll destroy you
	... They're untouchable, man ...
	I'm so fucking exhausted I can't see straight.

	Get some rest, Dave, and you'll feel better in
	the morning.  We'll talk then.

	Yeah, yeah.  But leave me alone for awhile.  I
	got to make some calls.

His eyes are going again.  Deals ... intrigue - thru the tears.

	Whatever you say, Dave.  I'll be home.  Okay?

Lou and Jim share a look.


A mob scene.  Press from the U.S. and all over the world are filling the
corridor.  A French reporter tries to get past the receptionist as Numa
passes him with a stack of mail.  Also in the hall are many individual
citizens who have come to give tips and theories.  One of them is
dressed as Satan in a red jump suit with mask, horns, tail and a

		(waving credentials)
	Paris Match.  We are the largest magazine in all
	of France.

	My name is Bulgarinov.  I am with Literaturnaya
	Gazeta of Moscow.

	Bill Turner.  Ramparts.

A mailman, black, comes through lugging three sacks of mail.

	Coming through, out of the way.

	You know who killed the President?  Mr. Garrison
	is busy but his assistant ...

A camera moves by into the interior offices.



A man with the demeanor of Julius Caesar walks into Bill's office.

		(raising arm)
	Hail!  Et tu, Brutus?

	And you, too, my friend.

Bill escorts him out before he gets the chance to sit down, and then
heads for Jim's office.


Numa joins Jim with a stack of new mail.

	Love a duck!  It takes twenty minutes to get
	into this office these days.  Are we famous or

Jim is reading Newsweek, deeply hurt.  There are newspapers all over his

	Notorious is more like it.  "Jim Garrison is
	right.  There has been a conspiracy in New
	Orleans - but it's a plot of Garrison's own
	making" ... and this - "one of the D.A.'s
	investigators offered an unwilling witness $3000
	if only he would fill in the facts of the
	alleged meeting to plot the death of the
	President" ... How can they write that?  Where
	did they come up with this? ...
		(sorting through others)
	"A charlatan,""power-mad," a "hulking D.A."
		(New York Post)
	"Morbid Frolic in New Orleans."

Bill has come in during this, completely frazzled.

	The crazies have taken over the asylum!  It's a
	zoo out there.

	Sensational garbage sells newspapers, Jim.  What
	else is new?  Look at the thousands of letters
	you're getting.  That's where the heart of the
	country is.
		(reads from one)
	"Dear Mr. Garrison, God bless you for having the
	courage to go after the murderers of President
	Kennedy.  Please don't stop till they're behind
	bars.  I am a beautician here in Hannibal,
	Missouri, and my husband is a janitor in the
	local high school.  We have four kids and not an
	extra lot of money but we enclose a contribution
	to help with your work.  We are praying for you.
	God bless, Judith Hardy, Hannibal, Missouri."

Numa pulls a dollar bill fromt the envelope.

	That's what it's about, boss.  For every lousy
	article in the press there's a hundred of these.

Jim is moved.  Bill is not.

	That's fine, Numa, but what about all the people
	who aren't writing letters.  They're sitting
	home reading all these lies.  I just heard NBC
	crew's in town to do a "White Paper" - not on
	the Kennedy killing, but on us.  One of their
	top guys, Harry Stoner, is talking to everybody
	he can find about you, boss ...

	Oh Jesus, Stoner! ... Why doesn't he call me?

		(to Bill)
	What do you want to do, Bill - fold up and close
	the store?  You sound like it.

	Look, this is bigger than all of us.  We can't
	try a case in this atmosphere.

Sharon has come in during this, signalling to Jim.

	Mr. Miller's been waiting.

	Oh!  Send him in.
		(to Numa)
	Denver oilman wants to support the
		(specifically to Bill)
	Bill, I know what you're thinking, but sometimes
	when it makes no sense that's exactly when you
	just gotta stick to it, head down.

Sharon shows in Mr. Miller, the Denver oilman.  He's a self-assured,
impressive man in his 50's with a western accent, cowboy boots and hat,
and a well-cut gabardine suit.

	Welcome, Mr. Miller.  Jim Garrison.  Would you
	care for some coffee?

	Yes, thank you, Mr. Garrison.  Your coffee's
	almost Turkish down here but I could get used to

Numa leaves.  Bill indicates he'd like to sit in.  Jim nods okay.
Miller pays no attention to Bill.

	I'm glad you could find time to see me.  I flew
	down from Denver this morning on my private jet.

	Yes, your letter indicated you were in he oil
	business up there.

	I've done quite well in Denver, Mr. Garrison,
	but I have to admire someone like you - and I
	have the means to back up what I say.

	We can use all the support we can get.  I think
	these might interest you.

Jim has gathered together a group of photos of the shooting.  Sharon
bringing the coffee.

	They've been enlarged and show a lot of detail

	Splendid, love to see them.

He glances at the photo but continues on across the room, looking at the
pictures on the walls.

	Where were you?  Europe, Pacific?


	You were lucky.  I spent three years in the
		(he looks out the blinds at Tulane
	I've never seen an avenue with such a profusion
	of bail-bonding companies.  Why is that?

		(nettled by Miller's moving around)
	I imagine because this is the Criminal District
	Court Building
		(showing a photo)
	This is an enlargement of a potential shooter
	standing behind the picket fence.  We ...

We see a blurry blowup of something behind the picket fence.  Miller
takes the photo, glances at it and sits down.

	I know about that shot.  A terrible tragedy.
		(Puts the photo back on the desk)
	How much do you have for carrying on your

	If you must know, virtually nothing.

	How many men are working with you on this?

	Less than you would guess.  Most days two to
	three assistant D.A.'s.  A handful of police

	That's all you've had all this time?

	That's it.

Jim expectant of some help.  A pause.  Then:

	I admire you, Mr. Garrison.  How did you manage
	to make your way into Guy Banister's operation?

The clock is ticking.  Jim shares a look with Bill.  The cards are on
the table.

	That was never in he newspapers, Mr. Miller.

Miller smiles, stands, paces the room.  He continues to ignore Bill

	I'm going to be very frank with you.  You've
	done a great job, an astounding job considering
	the limited resources available to you.  But the
	best you can ever hope for is to stir up a lot
	of confusion.  You're not going to do this
	country any good, and you're not going to do
	yourself any good.
		(he sits back down and looks
directly at Jim)
	You don't belong here.  On this Mickey Mouse
	street with that cheap strip of bail bond shops.

	The job manages to keep me pretty busy.

	Nonsense.  You should be in a job where you can
	make decisions that have impact, affect the
	world.  Here you're trying to climb up the steep
	side of Mount Everest.

He leans forward across Jim's desk, tapping his manicured index finger
on the desk.  Clearly visible to Jim and to us (in a close-up) is
Miller's Annapolis ring tapping.

	I propose you accept an appointment to the bench
	in Federal District Court and move into a job
	worthy of your talent.
		(he leans back and pauses)
	Do you have any idea, do you have any conception
	of how easily such an appointment can be

	And what would I have to do?

	Stop your investigation ... it was a magnificent
	effort but it's over and done with.  The press
	is already on your behind and that's only the
	beginning, my boy, only the beginning.

	How long do you think it would take me to be

Jim's eyes go to Bill.  He could be wrong, but it's almost as if Bill
were going along with the idea now.

		(smiling, thinking Jim is hooked)
	Well, ordinarily these things take a long time.
	But in your case, with your record it can be
	expedited - easily.  I guarantee it.

Jim leans back, puts his feet up on the corner of the desk, waving them
like fans.  Bill waits.

	Who are you, Mr. Miller?
		(no answer - just the sound of the
overhead fan)
	You see that helmet over there?
		(the Nazi helmet with a bullet hole
on his desk)
	I picked that up at the Dachau concentration
	camp when we liberated it in 1945.  It was the
	most horrifying sight I've ever seen, Mr.
	Miller.  Pyramids of decaying, stinking bones
	and skin one on top of the other.  I don't enjoy
	looking at that swastika every day, Mr. Miller,
	but I keep it there to remind me of what can
	happen when a country turns from free democratic
	principles to Fascism, when a few madmen turn
	human beings into digits and millions sit in
	silence and do nothing about it.

Miller waits.  Bill waits.  Jim comes forward with his reply.

	Mr. Miller, you and I have met under a great
	misunderstanding.  I haven't the remotest
	interest in becoming a Federal Judge.  And
	nothing is going to keep me from going ahead
	with my investigation of John Kennedy's murder.

Miller's entire demeanor tightens into a corkscrew of anger and danger.

	Bill, Mr. Miller and I have finished our
	conversation.  Would you show him out?

Bill has a strange reaction - a sudden exhalation of breath as if an
entire house of cards were collapsing.  He rises, but Miller goes first,
leaving silently.  Once he's gone, Bill turns wearily to Jim.

	Those bastards!  That's proof enough right there
	of what we're up against.  The whole goddamn
	Federal Government, Bill!

	Well, they offered you the carrot, and you
	turned it down ... you know what's coming next,
	don't you, boss?


The staff is assembled.  We see the headline in the Times-Picayune,

	Boss, I tell you something or somebody is
	putting tremendous heat on David Ferrie.  If we
	sit on our behinds any longer, I don't think the
	guy's going to hold on.

		(raps the newspaper)
	Look at this bullshit!  He keeps changing what
	he says.  We can't possibly call him to a Grand

	Susie, watch the language, would you please.

	My instinct is that Ferrie is going to keep on
	deteriorating, and we'll end up getting more out
	of him when he finally cracks.  If we call him
	now, he might freeze up and we could lose the
	best shot we've ever had.

	You don't get it, guys - he can't go down any
	further.  We got to protect him full time.

		(rises, looks at his watch)
	I have a plane to catch ... going to Washington.
	An interesting lead, says he's closely connected
	to these events, but he won't come down here ...
	I know what you're going through with Ferrie,
	Lou.  We'll talk tomorrow.

	I'm onto Ferrie's Cuban paymaster, Eladio del
	Valle, in Miami.  I gotta get him in, boss.  I
	need more men - I can't even pull the teams to
	watch Ferrie ... This is our case!

Numa rushes in with a young investigator, Williams - displaying a
miniature microphone.


		(to Lou)
	You just need some sleep, Lou.  It won't look so
	bad when ...

Numa makes violent signals to shut up - not to talk - sticking the
microphone in front of Jim.  Williams searches the walls for the bug.
Numa signals everyone outside.


The staff comes out into the office with Him, disturbed.

	What the hell is ...

	Williams found this in your office ... We think
	the conference room is also bugged.  And maybe
	the phones.  The whole place needs debugging.

The whole staff from the conference room reacts.  Jim looks stunned.

	I don't believe it!

	Bugging the District Attorney's office of New
	Orleans!  It's outrageous!

	Sharon has been standing there trying to get
	Lou's attention.

	It's urgent for you, Mr. Ivon.

Lou goes to the phone.

	Well, believe what you want, boss, but we got to
	be more careful.  All these new volunteers, any
	one of them could be ...

	Okay, you handle it, Numa.  I don't have time
	for this nonsense.
		(to the hidden mikes loudly)
	We've obviously got the bastards worried now.
	I'm going to Washington.

Everyone laughs, but the camera goes to the look of shock on Lou's face
as he holds the receiver.  They all look over at him; feeling the bad
news before they hear it.

	Dave Ferrie's dead.  The body was found at his
	apartment two hours ago.

Jim's look says "There goes the case."


Jim and his staff storm into the area, which is cordoned off by police.
Members of the press are all over, yelling questions at Jim.

		(to chief police officer)
	This case is in our jurisdiction.  I don't want
	anyone from a Federal agency in here without an
	explicit Federal court order.  You got that,
		(Hank looks at him weirdly)

	Was Ferrie murdered, Mr. Garrison?  Do you have
	any leads?


The apartment is filthy and sinister.  Hundreds of mice squeal in their
cages, upset by the invasion of men and light.  Nothing seems to have
been washed in years.  There is an accumulation of furniture, college
pennants, photos of young boys in training, books everywhere,
ammunition, guns, a piano, maps, fake college degrees on the walls.
Ferrie's naked body lies on the couch with a sheet over it.  He is
unwigged, his eyebrows unpainted, false teeth next to him.  Jim studies
the corpse as the coroner comes alongside.

	What's it look like, Nick?

	I don't see any violence, Jim.  Heart attack,
	maybe an aneurysm.  Looks like natural causes.

Jim picks several empty, capless medicine bottles on a table next to the
sofa and looks at them.  Lou and Bill come over with a typed suicide

	It's addressed to no one and no signature.  "To
	leave this life is, for me, a sweet prospect.  I
	find nothing in it that is desirable and on the
	other hand, everything that is loathsome."

	Pretty flowery for Dave Ferrie.

The words from the note hang there weirdly, as Jim paces on into the
apartment, one of them medicine bottles in his hand.  The music grows,
and a sinister feel of danger and death pervades the atmosphere.  Then
the sounds drop away.


Jim hands Lou the medicine bottle.


	I took it once for a low thyroid condition ...
		(he walks away)
	It raises the metabolism, Lou.
	Did David Ferrie strike you as the kind of
	person who had a low metabolism?

	I'd say the opposite - hypertension.


Jim runs an eye through Dave's closet, cluttered with shabby jackets.
His eye falls on a neat but faded lace and satin, some sort of garment
of priestly origin, he takes it in his hand.

	Ferrie was the only one to express some kind of
	remorse about this whole thing.  I think it got
	him killed.

Susie Cox walks in, a new message written on her face.

	Boss, we just got bad news from Miami.  They
	found Ferrie's Cuban friend - Eladio del Valle -
	this morning, hacked to death with a machete in
	his car.  He was tortured, shot in the heart at
	point-blank range and his skull was split open
	with an axe ...

	Jesus - if that ain't the Devil's piss!  Those

Jim's mood darkens, and he heads back into the living room as Ferrie's
corpse is being trundled out the door.  The sickness is everywhere; an
oppressive mood.  Bill comes up.

	Found another note, same thing, no name, no
	signature.  "When you receive this, I will be
	quite dead, so no answer will be possible.  I
	offered you love.  All I got in return in the
	end was a kick in the teeth."

	Jesus, they must've been hard pressed to come up
	with that one.

Jim, feeling ill, wanting to leave, stops the coroner before he exits

		(gives the coroner the empty bottle)
	Nick, what would happen if a man suffering from
	hypertension were to take an entire bottle of

	He'd die pretty quick, either a heart storm or a
	ruptured blood vessel in the brain.

	Can you ascertain if there's Proloid in his

	Not in a routine autopsy, but if we looked at
	the spinal fluid, there might be a high level of
	iodine, but it's difficult to know.  Whatcha
	thinkin', Jim?

	Well, it doesn't make sense, Nick - he was
	afraid of dying, then he kills himself in a way
	that leaves no trace, but he leaves two unsigned
	suicide notes.

		(shrugs, sceptical)
	If it's a suicide, I seen weirder, Jim.

	The fact is he's gone, chief, and so's our case.

	Not unless we go for Shaw now.

	With whose testimony?  Willie O'Keefe?  A male
	prostitute.  Jack Martini?  A drunk?  Vernon
	Bundy?  A dope fiend.  Shaw's got respect, the
	newspaper editors, the American Bar Association
	- they're not ...

	I'm afraid I'm with Bill on this one.  We
	haven't got the goods yet.

	We wait, Shaw's gonna get whacked.  Oswald,
	Ruby, Ferrie, del Valle, Banister, Bowers ...
	how many corpses you lawyers gotta see to figure
	out what's going on?

	All right, all right.  Break it up.

	Where you going, boss?

	I don't know, Bill, I just don't know.


As Jim, questioned by reporters, gets in his car and leaves, Bill waves
goodbye to Lou and walks toward his own car, dejected.  The area is
cordoned off and humming with activity.  Frank, an FBI man who knows
Bill from previous cases, approaches him out of the crowd.  He wears a
hat, suit, and tie.


	Hey, where y'at, Frank?  You're wasting your
	time here.  Big Jim gave strict orders.  No FBI

	It's you I want to talk to, Bill.

	Boss would fry me in hog fat if he knew ...
		(motions to car)

		(getting in the car)
	Your boss got a serious problem, Bill.  Real
	serious.  We know what's been going on at your

	Yeah, I guess you do.

	You've got nothin', Bill.  I'm talking as a
	friend now.  You're riding on the Titanic.  Time
	to jump off before you get destroyed along with

	Frank, I don't want to hear it.

	Senator Long set your boss up, my friend.

This gets Bill's attention.

	Who do you think fed him that information?
	Garrison's going down.  We're talking your
	career here, Bill, your life.  You're a young
	guy ... we know you're working that Castro

	No, I'm not ...

	Yes, you are.  Look we know Oswald didn't pull
	that trigger.  Castro did.  But if that comes
	out, there's gonna be a war, boy - millions of
	people are gonna die.  That's a hell of a lot
	more important than Jim Garrison.
	Goddammit, look at me when I talk to you!
	You're too goddamn self-opinionated, now shut
	up.  If you got a brain in that thick skull of
	yours, listen to me.  Listen real hard.

Bill, taken aback, listens.


Jim walks down from the Lincoln Memorial, where he is met unobtrusively
by a military man in his 50's in casual clothing, hat on his head, an
erect posture.  They walk towards the Mall, with the Capitol building
looming in the background.

	Jim Garrison?


		(shakes hands)
	I'm glad you came.  I'm sorry about the

	Well, I just hope it was worth my while, Mr ...

The man doesn't answer.  Jim, after his meeting with Miller and loss of
Ferrie, is testy and suspicious.

	I could give you a false name, but I won't.
	Just call me X.

	I've already been warned by the Agency, Mr.
	Whoever.  If this is another type of threat, I
	don't ...

	I'm not with the Agency, Mr. Garrison, and I
	assume if you've come this far, what I have to
	say interests you.  But I'm not going to name
	names, or tell you who or what I represent.
	Except to say - you're close, you're closer than
	you think ...

Something about his manner speaks of authority, knowledge, and above
all, old-fashioned honesty - the eyes looking at you straight on.  He
indicates a bench.

		X (CONT'D)
	Everything I'm going to tell you is classified
	top secret ...
		(significant look)
	I was a soldier, Mr. Garrison.  Two wars.  I was
	one of those secret guys in the Pentagon that
	supplies the military hardware - the planes,
	bullets, rifles - for what we call "black
	operations" - "black ops", assassinations, coup
	d'etats, rigging elections, propoganda, psych
	warfare and so forth.  World War II - Rumania,
	Greece, Yugoslavia, I helped take the Nazi
	intelligence apparatus out to help us fight the
	Communists.  Italy '48 stealing elections,
	France '49 breaking strikes - we overthrew
	Quirino in the Philippines, Arbenz in Guatemala,
	Mossadegh in Iran.  Vietnam in '54, Indonesia
	'58, Tibet '59 we got the Dalai Lama out - we
	were good, very good.  Then we got into the
	Cuban thing.  Not so good.  Set up all the bases
	for the invasion supposed to take place in
	October '62.  Khrushchev sent the missiles to
	resist the invasion, Kennedy refused to invade
	and we were standing out there with our dicks in
	the wind.  Lot of pissed-off people, Mr.
	Garrison, you understand?  I'll come to that
	later ... I spent much of September '63 working
	on the Kennedy plan for getting all U.S.
	personnel out of Vietnam by the end of '65.
	This plan was one of the strongest and most
	important papers issued from the Kennedy White
	House.  Our first 1,000 troops were ordered home
	for Christmas.  Tensions were high.  In November
	'63, one week after the murder of Vietnamese
	President  Diem in Saigon, and two weeks before
	the assassination of our President ...

FLASHBACK TO the Pentagon offices in 1963.  X strides down a busy hall
and into the offices of one of his superiors, Major General Y, a lean,
cold warrior, battlefield handsome, civilian clothes, and several
advisors.  There's a U.S. flag on the wall.  The status of Y is only
clear by the sing on the desk, the name blocked by a passing figure.

		X (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	... a strange thing happened.  I was sent by my
	superior officer, call him Y, to the South Pole
	as the military escort for a group of
	international VIP's.  This trip had nothing to
	do with my nine years of work in Special
	Operations.  It was sort of a "paid vacation".

We hear vague ad-lib mutterings on the soundtrack indicating a friendly
atmosphere, and we see stock footage of a C-130 transport flying to
Antarctica and ice floes on the surface of the sea.

Then, at a New Zealand airport, we see X, in a uniform, at a newsstand
reading of Kennedy's assassination.  The banner headline of an "Extra"
edition of The Christchurch Star screams out "KENNEDY SHOT DEAD."

		X (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	It wasn't until I was on my way back in New
	Zealand that I read of the President's murder.
	That was 2 in the afternoon the next day New
	Zealand time, but already the papers had the
	entire history of an unknown 24-year-old man,
	Oswald - a studio picture, detailed biographical
	data, Russian information - and were pretty sure
	of the fact he'd killed the President alone,
	although it took them four more hours to charge
	him with the murder in Texas.  It felt as if,
	well, a cover story was being put out like we
	would in a black op.

Back at the Pentagon office, we see X returning and meeting Y.  The
atmosphere is cordial, but Y is slightly different from before - more
harried, more nervous.  He turns away to light a cigarette, he doesn't
want the usual conversation.

		X (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	Anyway, after I came back I asked myself why was
	I, the chief of special ops, selected to travel
	to the South Pole at that time to do a job that
	any number of others could have done?  One of my
	routine duties if I had been in Washington
	would've been to arrange for additional security
	in Texas.  The Secret Service is relatively
	small, and by custom the military will augment
	them.  I checked it out when I got back and sure
	enough, I found out someone had told the 112th
	Military Intelligence Group at 4th Army
	Headquarters at Fort Sam Houston to "stand down"
	that day, over the protests of the unit
	Commander, a Colonel Reich ...

We see an outdoor shot of the Texas Army Headquarters on a day in 1963.
Inside, on the same day, Col. Reich is on the phone, puzzled.

		X (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	Now this is significant, because it is standard
	operating procedure, especially in a known
	hostile city like Dallas, to supplement the
	Secret Service.  Even if we had not allowed the
	bubbletop to be removed from the limousine,
	we'd've put at least 100 to 200 agents on the
	sidewalks, without question!  There'd already
	been several attempts on de Gaulle's life in
	France.  Only a month before in Dallas UN
	Ambassador Adlai Stevenson had been spit on and
	hit.  We'd have arrived days ahead of time,
	studied the route, checked all the buildings ...
	We never would've allowed all those wide-open
	empty windows overlooking Dealey ... never ...
	We would have had our own snipers covering the
	area.  The moment a window went up they'd have
	been on the radio.  We would've been watching
	the crowds - packages, rolled up newspapers, a
	coat over an arm, never would have let a man
	open an umbrella along the way - Never would've
	allowed that limousine to slow down to 10 miles
	per hour, much less take that unusual curve at
	Houston and Elm.  You would have felt an Army
	presence in the streets that day, but none of
	this happened.  It was a violation of the most
	basic protection codes we have.  And it is the
	best indication of a massive plot in Dallas.
	Who could have best done that?  People in my
	business, Mr. Garrison.  People like my superior
	officer could've told Col. Reich, "Look - we
	have another unit coming from so and so
	providing security.  You'll stand down."  That
	day, in fact, there were some individual Army
	Intelligence people in Dallas and I'm still
	trying to figure out who and why.  But they
	weren't protecting the client.  One of them, by
	the way, was caught in the Book Depository after
	police sealed it off.

In Dealey Plaza, 1963, we see an Army intelligence man taking a shot
with a Minolta camera.

		X (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	Army Intell had a "Harvey Lee Oswald" on file,
	but all those files have been destroyed.  Many
	strange things were happening that day, and Lee
	Harvey Oswald had nothing to do with them.  We
	had the entire Cabinet on a trip to the Far
	East.  We had a third of a combat division
	returning from Germany in the air above the
	United States at the time of the shooting, and
	at 12:34 P.M., the entire telephone system went
	dead in Washington for a solid hour, and on the
	plane back to Washington, word was radioed from
	the White House Situation Room to Lyndon Johnson
	that one individual performed the assassination.
	Does that sound like a bunch of coincidences to
	you, Mr. Garrison?  Not for one moment.  The
	cabinet was out of the country to get their
	perception out of the way.  The troops were in
	the air for possible riot control.  The phones
	didn't work to keep the wrong stories from
	spreading if anything went wrong with the plan.
	Nothing was left to chance.  I bet you there
	were even backup teams and cars on the other
	side of the underpass in the event that Kennedy
	got through wounded.  They would have moved in
	with vehicles like they did with de Gaulle.  He
	could not be allowed to escape alive.

The camera is on Jim, listening.  This information is much greater than
he ever envisioned, and he is stunned.  X pauses.

		X (CONT'D)
	I never though things were the same after that.
	Vietnam started for real.  There was an air of,
	I don't know, make-believe in the Pentagon and
	the CIA.  Those of us who'd been in secret ops
	since the beginning knew the Warren Commission
	was fiction, but there was something ... deeper,
	uglier.  And I knew Allen Dulles very well.  I
	briefed him many a time in his house.  He was
	also General Y's benefactor.  But for the life
	of me I still can't figure out why Dulles was
	appointed to investigate Kennedy's death.  The
	man who had fired him.  I got out in '64.  I
	retired from the U.S. Air Force.

	I never realized Kennedy was so dangerous to the
	establishment.  Is that why?

	That's the real question, isn't it - "Why?" -
	the "how" is just "scenery" for the suckers ...
	Oswald, Ruby, Cuba, Mafia, it keeps people
	guessing like a parlor game, but it prevents
	them from asking the most important question -
	Why?  Why was Kennedy killed?  Who benefitted?
	Who has the power to cover it up? ... You know
	in '61 right after the Bay of Pigs - very few
	people know about this - I participated in
	drawing up National Security Action Memos 55,
	56, and 57.  These are crucial documents,
	classified top secret, but basically in them
	Kennedy instructs General Lemnitzer, Chairman of
	the Joint Chiefs, that from here on forward ...

FLASHBACK TO the Pentagon offices on a day in 1961.  A document is moved
by hand into Lemnitzer's office where we see a set of hands holding it
while it's read.  There's a look of surprise on Lemnitzer's face.

		X (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	... the Joint Chiefs of Staff would be wholly
	responsible for all covert paramilitary action
	in peacetime.  This basically ended the reign of
	the CIA - "splintered it", as J.F.K. promised he
	would, into a "thousand pieces", - and now was
	ordering the military to help.  This was
	unprecedented.  I can't tell you the shock waves
	this sent along the corridors of power in
	Washington.  This and, of course, firing Allen
	Dulles, Richard Bissell, and General Charles
	Cabell, all of them sacred cows of Intell since
	World War II.  You got some very upset people

DOCUMENTARY IMAGES flash on the screen - Allen Dulles, sweet-faced,
smiling, at the Warren Commission Hearing and visiting Dealey Plaza;
General Charles Cabell and Richard Bissell ...

		X (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	Kennedy's directives were never really
	implemented, because of bureaucratic resistance,
	but one of the results was that the Cuban
	operation was turned over to my department as
	"Operation Mongoose", which meant that people
	like my superior officer, General Y, took over
	the Cuban personnel that were being trained to
	invade Cuba - and the bases like the training
	camp at Pontchartrain in your home state that
	were closed down by Kennedy ... and that's how
	the "black ops" people, people like General Y,
	ended up taking the rules of covert warfare
	they'd used abroad and brought'em into this
	country.  Now they had the people, the
	equipment, bases and the motivation ... check
	out an old CIA man, Bill Harvey - ran something
	called "Executive Action", which carried out
	foreign assassinations.  Harvey was also
	involved with the fake defection program that
	got Oswald into Russia.  Check out the Cabell
	brothers.  Interesting links to this case.

At Arlington Cemetery on the same day, Jim visits the grave of President
Kennedy.  We see the eternal flame.  Jim thinks about what he should do
now.  The size of it stuns him.  He is lost, reeling back to the past in
his mind.

DISSOLVE TO DOCUMENTARY FOOTAGE of Dachau concentration camp: thousands
of bodies are piled and bulldozed ... And then back to Jim at Arlington
Cemetery reliving it ... only the enormity of past evil can prepare him
to confront present evil.  In a strange way, it reassures him.

		X (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	... don't underestimate the budget cuts Kennedy
	called for in March of '63 either - close to 52
	military installations in 25 states, 21 overseas
	bases, you're talking big money.  You know how
	many helicopters have been lost in Vietnam?
	About three thousand so far.  Who makes them?
	Bell Helicopter.  Who owns Bell?  Bell was near
	bankruptcy when the First National Bank of
	Boston approached the CIA about developing the
	helicopter for Indochina usage.  How 'bout the
	f-111 fighters?  General Dynamics in Fort Worth.
	Who owns that?  Find out the defence budget
	since the war began.  $75 going on a hundred
	billion ... $200 billion'll be spent before it
	ends.  In 1950 it was $13 billion.  No war, no
	money.  Sometimes I think the organizing
	principle of any society is for war.  The
	authority of the state over it's people resides
	in it's war powers.  Even Eisenhower - military
	hero of WWII - warned us about it: "beware the
	military - industrial complex", he said.
	Kennedy wanted to end the Cold War in his second
	term.  He wanted to call of the moon race in
	favor of cooperation with the Soviets.  He
	signed a treaty with the Soviets to ban nuclear
	testing, he refused to invade Cuba in '62, and
	he set out to withdraw from Vietnam.  But that
	all ended on November 22, 1963.

FLASHBACK TO the White House, 1963.  Lyndon Johnson is with Henry Cabot
Lodge.  We see them as shadowy figures from a distance across the wide
room, or near a veranda with a porch and plenty of light.  Johnson, his
back to us, talks in a loud, thick Texas drawl (mostly muted) and signs
a document.

		X (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	Only four days after J.F.K. was shot, Lyndon
	Johnson signed National Security Memo 273, which
	essentially reversed Kennedy's new withdrawal
	policy and gave the green light to the covert
	operations against North Vietnam that provoked
	the Gulf of Tonkin incident.  In that document
	lay the Vietnam War.

In the park with X, Jim is staggered by all this information.  X ceases
walking and looks at Jim.

	I don't ... I can't believe it.  They killed him
	because he wanted to change things.  In our time
	- in our country?

	Kings are killed, Mr. Garrison.  Politics is
	power, nothing more.  But don't believe me.
	Don't trust me.  Do your own work, your own

	The size of this is ... beyond me.  Testify?

	No chance in hell, Mr. Garrison.  I'd be
	arrested and gagged, declared insane and
	hospitalized ... maybe worse.  You, too.  I can
	only give you background, you got to find the
	foreground, the little things ... Keep digging.
	Y'know you're the only person to ever bring a
	trial in the murder of John Kennedy.  That's
	important - it's historic.

	I haven't yet.  I don't have much of a case.

		(rising to leave)
	But you don't have a choice anymore.  You've
	become a significant threat to the national
	security structure.  They would've killed you
	already, but you got a lot of light on you.
	Instead, they're gonna destroy your credibility;
	they already have in many circles in this town.
	You're some kinda ego-crazed southern caricature
	to many folks.  Be honest - the best chance you
	got is come up with a case, something, anything,
	make arrests, stir the shitstorm.  You gotta
	hope to reach a point of critical mass where
	other people will come forward and the
	government will crack.  Remember, fundamentally
	people are suckers for the truth, and the truth
	is on your side, 'bubba.  I hope you get a break

Jim watches this mystery man walking away.  The figure vanishes in the
Washington breeze.  Flags flap over some distant memorial to some
distant history of the Republic.  Jim rises, a decision made.


Jim, Lou, Al, Numa and several policemen stand at the door as Clay Shaw
comes to it.

	Mr. Shaw, you're under arrest, charged with
	conspiracy and entering into an agreement with
	other persons for the specific purpose of
	committing the crime of murder of President John
	F. Kennedy in violation of ...

The voice dropping away as the devastated look on Shaw's face spreads,
sickly, undone, his arrogant public composure gone, face now filled with
terror, disbelief.

	... we have a warrant to search the premises.

The policemen take Shaw while the D.A. staff moves into the carriage
house past the butler, Frankie Jenkins.


In the bedroom, Numa points out to Jim the hooks screwed into the
ceiling.  Al pulls out five whips, several lengths of chain, a black
hood and matching black cape.  Dried blood is on one whip.

	It's either a Mardi Gras outfit, or we got the
	Marquis de Sade here, chief.

	I don't care if he was doing it with giraffes in
	the zoo, Numa, it's none of our business.  Let's
	keep this side of it quiet, shall we?

	When you're in a war, boss, you use every weapon
	you got.

	Not one word.  That's an order.


Shaw is being fingerprinted.  He seems rattled.  Police officers try to
get the press under control.

	Name?  First, middle, last.

	Clay Lavergne Shaw.


	1313 Dauphine, New Orleans.

	Ever use any aliases?

	Clay Bertrand.

Habihorst notes it as routinely as Shaw seems to have said it, without
thinking, possibly preoccupied by thoughts of press people pushing in.

	Next of kin?

	Mr. Shaw - What do you have to say?


We see a shot of the exterior of the Justice Department in 1967.


The acting Attorney General speaks to the press.

	Yes, Mr. Shaw was included in our investigation
	and there was no connection found at all between
	Shaw and the President's assassin.


Jim confronts a packed room.  Bill is with him.

	If Mr. Shaw had no connection to the
	assassination, why did the FBI investigate him?
	And why, if they did, is his name not mentioned
	once in the entire 26 volumes of the Warren
	Report, even it if is to clear his name?  I
	doubt this Attorney General would qualify for my

We see a shot of the Supreme Court building in Washington, D.C. and then
a corridor inside the building.  A Chief Justice, looking gray and wise
like Earl Warren, moves along the corridor in his black robe delivering
his verdict to the press.

	No, I don't think so.  Mr. Garrison has
	presented absolutely nothing publicly to
	contradict our findings.  As yet I have not
	heard one fact to refute the Commission
	determination that Lee Oswald was the lone

In his own office, Jim responds to Justice Warren.

	I congratulate Mr. Shaw.  Most witnesses have to
	wait for trial before they're allowed to produce
	sacred cows like the Chief Justice of the land
	as a character witness, who is of course not
	under oath and free from the laws of perjury.

	Mr. Garrison, if what you say is even partly
	true in this case, you realize you are damaging
	the credibility of our government, possibly
	destroying it?

	Let me ask you ... is a government worth
	preserving when it lies to the people?  It has
	become a dangerous country, sir, when you can't
	trust anyone anymore, when you can't tell the
	truth.  I say let justice be done, though the
	heavens fall.

It doesn't play with the press.  They shuffle off, quiet, whispering.


Liz and Jim watch, silently devastated, as the NBC "WHITE PAPER"
unfolds, attacking Jim.  They can do nothing.  Liz leaves the room,


Julia Ann Mercer, 28, looks at Jim with sincere eyes.  Her husband, a
prosperous Republican businessman, watches from the corner.  Jim - along
with Al - has her testimony in front of him.

	In the sheriff's report, Mrs. Mercer, it says
	you were at Dealey Plaza two hours before the
	assassination but that ...

	Yes, it was about 11 in the morning.  I was
	driving west on Elm Street toward the Triple
	Underpass, in a rented car - a blue Valiant.
	I'll never forget that day.

FLASHBACK TO Dealey Plaza in 1963.  It's a normal scene - cars, traffic,
people starting to arrive for Kennedy's appearance.  We catch a glimpse
of Julia Ann Mercer, 23, driving, then stopping traffic.

	... there was quite a bit of traffic and I was
	stopped alongside a green pickup truck.  It was
	very noticeable because it was blocking traffic
	and it was parked with two wheels on the curb.
	When I saw the gun, I thought - the Secret
	Service is not very secret.

She glances over at the man in the driver's seat.  It's Jack Ruby,
wearing a green jacket.  Then she sees a young white man in his mid -
20's, in a gray jacket, brown pants, plaid shirt and wool stocking hat,
getting out of the passenger side, going to the rear of the van, opening
a tool compartment and removing a package that looks like a rifle
wrapped in paper.  He walks up the embankment in the direction of the
picket fence.  Ruby looks over and stares at Julia Ann, who turns away
and notices three police officers standing near a motorcycle on the
overpass bridge.  Her eyes lock with Ruby's a second time and as the
traffic moves, she drives on.

	The next morning, Saturday, I went to the FBI
	office and the agents showed me photographs ...

In the Dallas FBI office, Mercer sits at a table looking at photos.  Two
FBI agents stand near her showing her photos.  She shakes her head "no"
several times, until they put a shot of Jack Ruby in front of her.  She
holds it up.

	I picked out three pictures that looked
	generally like the driver of the truck and then

	That's the man.

		(to Second Agent)
	Jack Ruby.

	What about these others?  You said they might be

	They look a little like him.  But no,
		(holding up the Ruby photo)
	I'm sure this is the man.

Back in the present, Jim continues to question Mercer.

	You mean you identified him on Saturday, the day
	before Ruby shot Oswald?

	That's right.  When I saw him on TV, I was
	shocked.  I said to my family, "that was the man
	I saw in the truck."

	But you didn't seem nearly so sure in your
	statement to the Warren Commission.

	That's what bothers me, Mr. Garrison.  You see,
	they've been altered.  My statements ...

Jim is silent.  Mercer picks up the report and finds the pertinent

	This says "Mercer could not identify any of the
	photographs as being identical with the person
	she had observed slouched over the wheel of a
	green Ford pickup truck."  That's not true.  I
	recognized him and I told them so ... They also
	said it was a dark green air conditioning truck,
	which it was not.  And here ...
		(she goes to another report)
	... on the Dallas Sheriff's report.  This is
	really strange.  See that notarized signature on
	the bottom of each page?  That's not my
	signature.  And there never was any notary
	present during any of my questioning.
		(she hands the papers back to Jim)
	I guess that's all ...

	Mrs. Mercer, as a former FBI man, it's difficult
	to accept this.

	I know, but Mr. Garrison, the FBI is just not
	doing their job.

	I'm a Republican, Mr. Garrison, and I don't go
	in for this kind of government bashing, but I
	must tell you something's not right when they
	don't even bother to call Julia in front of the
	Warren Commission.

	They didn't call a lot of people, Mr. Mercer.  I
	think it's safe to say the Warren Report is a
	work of fiction.


BEVERLY, a woman of ample proportions and a big, cute Texas face, ex-
club singer, meets with Jim and Lou Ivon in a nightclub not unlike
Ruby's Carousel.

	Beverly, tell Mr. Garrison about the Carousel

	Oh yes, I used to go over there a lot to see
	Jack and especially my friend Jada who danced
	there.  It was the real swinging spot in town.
	Everybody came.  Businessmen, politicians from
	Austin, Lyndon Johnson's friends ... Dallas was
	a slow town back then.  You chewed toothpicks,
	played dominos, spit and dated policemen.  But
	Jack's was exciting.  There were always cops
	there.  Jack liked 'em around, but he used to
	throw the drunks out himself, 'cause he was
	kinda a violent-tempered man ... it seemed
	everybody in those days knew Jack was with the
	Mob.  The cops were "bad" back then - they'd
	shake you down for the money in your pocket.
	They put a lotta people in the cemetery,
	especially colored people.

	Beverly, what about Lee?

Jada and Beverly sit down at the table with Ferrie, Oswald, and Jack,
with Jack doing the buying.  It's too loud to hear anything.

	Oh, yeah.  One time I came in, Jack introduces
	me to these two guys.  He said, "Beverly, this
	is my friend Lee ..." and I didn't catch the
	other guy's name.  He was a weird-looking guy
	with those funny little eyebrows.  The other
	guy, Lee, didn't make much of an impression
	either.  He wasn't good-looking or nuthin', he
	didn't look like he had any money, and he was in
	a bad mood, so I didn't pay him much mind.
	Well, I might not remember a name, but I always
	remember a face.  When I saw him tow weeks later
	on the television, I screamed, "Oh, my God -
	that's him!  That's Jack's friend!"  I knew
	right then it had something to do with the Mafia
	... Well, about a week later, after she told the
	newspapers she'd met this guy Lee with Jack,
	Jada disappears off the face of the Earth ...
		(the camera moves in on Jada)
	never knew what happened to her till Herman
	offered to sell me her wardrobe.  I said, "but
	Jada's coming back," and I remember the way he
	smiled ... and I knew she was never coming back.

BACK TO the 1967 scene.

	Will you testify,  Beverly?

	I don't think so, sir.

	I thought when we came here, we had an

	I just don't want to become another statistic
	like her.  If they can kill the President, do
	you think they're gonna think twice about a two-
	bit showgirl like me?

	We could call you in, Beverly.

	I know the pressure you're under, Beverly.
	Don't think I don't.
		(as he exits)
	I understand.


Our view is from the roof of the building on the extreme south side of
the Plaza.  J.C. Price, the building engineer, in hat and overalls,
points for Jim and Lou.

		PRICE (V.O.)
	... yes, sir, right here on this spot.  The
	shots came from near that wooden fence over
	there, near the overpass.

The camera tightens on the picket fence.

	I saw a man run from this spot and go behind the
	Book Depository - 30 minutes later I gave this
	information to the Sheriff.

On the overpass near Dealey Plaza, S.M. Holland, a tan, elderly,
leather-faced signal supervisor, points to the picket fence for Jim and
Lou.  His accent is thick and rural.  We saw him before, briefly, when
Jim was reading the Warren Report.

	I made it very clear to the Warren people one of
	the shots came from behind that picket fence.  I
	heard the report and saw the smoke come out
	about 6 or 8 feet above the ground, right out
	from under those trees.  There is no doubt
	whatsoever in my mind ...

FLASHBACK TO the restaged shooting.  The smoke hangs under the trees.

CUT TO Richard Dodd on the overpass.  He's a cowboy type with a hat and
an even thicker accent than Holland.

	... we, all four of us, all railroad men,
	standing here, seen about the same thing.  The
	smoke came from behind the hedge - and a
	motorcycle policeman dropped his cycle in the
	street and run up the embankment ...

FLASHBACK to the motorcycle ...

BACK TO 1967.  Jim and Lou walk with Dodd and Holland near the picket
fence.  We feel the emptiness of the area now and see the normal amount
of traffic driving by.

	... we came around here to look for tracks.  It
	rained that morning and we found a bunch.
	Cigarette butts.  Someone'd been standing about
	here ...

The camera shows the "spot" and Lou sighting.

	This is a good spot, chief, for the head shot.

Jim looks, reliving the moment.

Later Jim and Lou stand on the south side of Elm Street in Dealey Plaza
talking to Jean Hill, an attractive, 30-ish teacher.  Her demeanor has a
rock-solid Texas back-country conviction to it; she's a woman not easily

	I was standing here next to my friend Mary
	Mooman, who took the photograph when he was
	killed ...

We see a flash of the Moorman photograph - a blurry Polaroid with the
President in the foreground and the picket fence in background.  We will
return to this photograph in more detail later.

	I jumped out in the street and yelled, "Hey Mr.
	President, look over here, we wanna take your
	picture."  He looked up and then shots rang out.
	Mary fell to the ground right away, shouting,
	"Get down, they're shooting, get down, they're
	shooting." I knew it but I was moving to get
	closer to him.  The driver had stopped - I don't
	know what was wrong with that driver.  And then,
	out of the corner of my eye, I saw this flash of
	light, in the bushes and that last shot ... just
	ripped his head off, I mean, blood, brains, just
	blew everything ...

FLASHBACK TO the day of the shooting.  We hear the sound of shots and
see the Grassy Knoll from Jean's point of view.

	I looked up and saw smoke from the Knoll.  And
	everything was frozen - seemed like people
	wasn't even breathing, like you're looking at a
	picture - except this one guy.  I saw this one
	guy running from the Book Depository towards the
	railroad tracks.  And that was the same man I
	saw on TV two days later shooting Oswald.  That
	was Jack Ruby.  No question about it.

Blurry image - we're not at all sure what or who or if ... but a seed is
planted.  We see smoke - the same smoke Bowers saw ... then Jack Ruby in
a brown coat running from the Book Depository toward the railroad
tracks.  Then we see Jean's view as she runs toward the Knoll along with
others.  there are yells, shouts, and general confusion.

	It was him I was chasing up the Grassy Knoll,
	thinking our guys had shot back and maybe we got
	one of them.  I don't know what I would have
	done if I had caught him, but I knew something
	terrible had happened and somebody had to do

At the picket fence, we see blurry images of police officers, railroad
workers, cigarette butts, buddy footprints, confusion ...

	I never did catch him.  All I saw in that
	parking area were railroad workers and Dallas'

Two Secret Service types approach her suddenly, and one of them puts an
arm on her shoulder.

	Secret Service, ma'am.  You're coming with us.

	Oh no, I'm not.  I don't know you.  We gotta
	catch this shooter - don't you realize?

		(grabbing her other shoulder)
	I said you're coming with us.  I want the
	pictures in your pocket.

	... he put a hurt on me but good.

	I don't have any pictures!  I have to go back
	and find my friend Mary.  Lemme alone!

The two agents hustle her away.

	Hush!  Just smile and keep walking.

Hill, 32 years old that day, is shown into a third floor office of the
County Courts Building - which has a view of the assassination area.
Other Secret Service agents are there.  Some 18 people are detained

TIME CUT TO two men interrogating Hill.

	These new people never identified themselves.
	They musta been watching the whole thing 'cause
	they knew everything Mary and me had been doing
	that day.  I guess I wasn't too hard to find -
	wearing that red raincoat.

	How many shots you say you heard?

	Four to six.

	That's impossible.  You heard echoes ... echoes.
	We have three bullets and three shots which came
	from the Book Depository and that's all we're
	willing to say.

	... which is strange 'cause this is less than 20
	minutes after the assassination.

	No, I saw a guy shooting from over there.  He
	was behind that fence.  What are you going to do
	about it?

	We have that taken care of.  You only heard
	three shots and you are not to talk to anyone
	about this.  No one, you hear?

	I was scared.  It was all kinda queer, but it
	sure felt like two and two was coming up three
	... and then they took Mary's five snapshots
	from me, sent them to Washington, and when they
	returned them weeks later, two of them had the
	backgrounds mutilated ... The only one we saved
	was in Mary's camera.  I didn't want to go to
	Washington when the Warren Commission subpoenaed
	me ... so the lawyer come down here and
	interviewed me at Parkland Hospital.

In a Parkland Hospital office in 1964, a lawyer interviews Jean Hill.  A
female stenographer takes notes.

	He asked me why I thought I was in danger and I

	Well if they can kill the President, they can
	certainly get me.

	That doesn't make sense, Mrs. Hill.  We have the
	man that killed the President.

	No, you don't!

	He kept trying to get me to change my story
	about the shots.  He was getting hot under the
	collar, and telling the woman not to write when
	he wanted.

	Look, do you want the truth, or just what you
	want me to say?

	I want the truth.

	The truth is that I heard between four and six
	shots.  I'm not going to lie for you.

	... you heard echoes.

	No.  I had guns all my life.  I used to go
	turtle shooting.

	I realize you're under a great deal of stress
	... it's clouded your judgement.

	So off the record, he starts talking about my
	family, and even mentioned my marriage was in
	trouble like I didn't know it or something.  He
	got angrier and angrier and then:

	Look, we can put you in a mental institution.
	We can make you look crazier'n Marguerite
	Oswald, and everybody knows how crazy she is.

	I knew something was crooked as a dog's hind
	leg, 'cause no one who is just taking a
	deposition gets that involved and angry ... sure
	enough, when I finally read my testimony as
	published by the Warren Commission, it was a
	fabrication from start to finish.

	Are you willing to testify, Mrs. Hill?

Back at the Knoll.

		(without hesitation)
	Damned right I would.  Somebody's got to tell
	the truth around here 'cause the Government sure
	ain't doing it.

DISSOLVE TO a scene inside the Texas School Book Depository in 1967.
Jim and Lou walk the floor and look out the windows.  Lou has a
Mannlicher-Carcano in his hand with a sight and clip.  We see Oswald's
supposed view of the limousine as he pulls the trigger.  Now, innocuous
traffic goes by, but the iris of the camera tightens into a sniper's

	The Zapruder film establishes 3 shots in 5.6
	seconds.  Here.  I'm Oswald.  Time me.

Lou cocks the Mannlicher for the first shot.  Jim looks at this watch.
Lou assumes the Oswald pose, crouched at the window aiming out.


Lou pulls, quickly recharges the bolt, fires, recycles, fires.


	Between six and seven seconds.

	The key is the second and third shots came right
	on top of each other, and it takes a minimum 2.3
	seconds to recycle this thing.
		(he recycles the bolt for firing)
	The other problem is there was a tree right
	there ...
		(he points)
	Blocking the first two shots at the time they
	occur in the Zapruder film.

	Didn't Hoover say something about that?  The
	leaves had fallen off in November?

	It was a Texas Live Oak, boss.
		(he shakes his head)
	It sheds it's leaves the first week of March.
	You try to hit a moving target at 88 yards
	through heavy foliage with this cheap 13-dollar
	sucker, the world's worst shoulder weapon.  No
	way.  The FBI tried two sets of tests and not
	one of their sharpshooters could match Oswald's
	performance.  Not one.  And Oswald was at best a
	medium shot.  The scope was defective on it,
	too.  I mean this is the whole essence of the
	case to me.  The guy couldn't do the shooting.
	Nobody could.  And they sold this lemon to the
	American public.

	The Zapruder film is the proof they didn't count
	on, Lou.  We gotta get our hands on it.

	That means we gotta subpoena Time-Life on it.

		(looks out the window)
	Why not just shoot Kennedy coming up Houston?
	There's plenty of time - he's out in the open -
	a frontal shot?

Jim points the Carcano south, right up Houston Street, following a car
that happens to be passing by - a convertible with an unknown woman

	I asked myself the same thing.  Common sense.
	Even if you miss the first shot, if he
	accelerates you still got him for a second shot.
	No ... the only reason for waiting to get him on
	Elm is you got him in a triangulated crossfire.
	You got him on a flat low trajectory from the
	front at the fence there.

The camera swings to the Grassy Knoll and the picket fence as seen from
the sixth floor of the Depository.

	... you put a third team there - in that
	building, on a low floor.

The camera swings to the Daltex Building across the street.

		LOU (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	When Kennedy gets to the kill zone, it's a
	turkey shoot.

	How many men?

	One shooter.  One spotter on a radio.  Maybe
	three teams.  I'd say these were professional
	riflemen, chief, serious people.  Hunters ...
	patient.  It takes skill to kill with a rifle,
	that's why there's been no execution of an
	executive with one in 200 years ... "3-2-1 ...
		(he taps Jim on the shoulder)
	Or else "Abort!  Abort!"

Jim pulls the dead trigger, reliving the moment through the scope on a
passing car.

		LOU (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	Main Street's over there - the original parade
	route on the way to the Trade Mart.  Too far
	right?  Impossible shot.

Jim swings the scope up to confront Main Street.  Another car is in his
sight.  Too far.

		LOU (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	So they changed the route to bring it this way.
	Moving at a normal 25 mph, they knew the
	motorcade would have to slow to about 10 miles
	per hour to make this turn.  That's where you
	get him.

The camera swings to the Houston and Main intersection.

	Who do you think changed the parade route?

	Beats me.  City officials.  Secret Service.
	Dallas police.  They did a dry run with Chief
	Curry a few days before.  But they didn't bother
	running through Dealey.  They stopped right
	there, said something like, "and afterwards
	there's only the freeway," and went home.

	You know who the mayor was?


	Earle Cabell.  And guess who his brother is?


	General Charles Cabell.  Deputy Director of the
	CIA.  Fired by Kennedy in '61 because of the Bay
	of Pigs fiasco, he moved back to the Pentagon,
	called Kennedy a "traitor".  When he came to New
	Orleans to address the Foreign Policy
	Association, you know who introduced him?  Our
	friend Clay Shaw.

	The Warren Commission call him?

		(shaking his head)
	His boss was the one on the Warren Commission
	who handled all the leads to the intelligence

	Allen Dulles?

		(he nods)
	Head of the CIA since '53.  Kennedy fired them
	both.  Cabell was his deputy for nine years.
	Talk about the fox investigating the chicken
	coop.  Now we'll have to subpoena them, Lou.

	They're gonna love you, chief.

Lou walks to another window in the empty Book Depository where Oswald
supposedly did his dirty deed and looks out over the plaza, with all its
ghosts.  Jim and Lou are two men - with only two men's power.  A
terrible aloneness pervades their minds.

	Maybe we should just call it a day, Lou.  Go
	home.  While we're still a little behind.  We
	got two people killed, maybe more we never
	thought about.

	You never got anyone killed, boss.  Their
	actions killed them years before.  If we stopped
	now, it'd e even more wrong.

FLASHBACK TO 1963 - the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository
- the same place Jim and Lou are now.  Jim looks around and sees one
shooter and one spotter with a lunchbox radio, in repairman clothes.
Jim is watching.  Neither of these men is Oswald.  We hear the sounds of
the motorcade below.  The shooter pulls the trigger on the Carcano.  A
loud frightening sound snaps Jim back to the present.

		(in present)
	Subpoena them, Lou - Dulles, the Cabells, Time-
	Life ... the whole damned lot of 'em!


We see another smoke-filled conference of assistants.  Paperwork is
stacked in the corners almost to the ceiling; there are coffee cups and
doughnuts on desks.  The disorganization and lack of resources are
apparent.  The staff working on this project now numbers some eleven
people, and there are some new investigators and assistants.  We sense
that the trial is drawing closer.

	The U.S. Attorney in Washington "declines" to
	serve our subpoena on Allen Dulles, Charles
	Cabell, CIA Director Richard Helms, or any FBI
	agent we named.

	Well, what do you expect from a pig but a grunt.

	Without them, it's going to be near impossible,
	chief, to prove Shaw's connection to the CIA.
	We got the same problem with the governors.  All
	of them.  Reagan in California won't give us
	Brading, Ohio refuses Orville Townsend, Texas on
	Arcacha, and Nebraska on Sandra Moffet.

	What the hell is going on?  Never before has an
	extradition request from this office been

	We haven't tried to get Julia Anne Mercer in?

	No, she could get hurt.  If you believe what's
	happening to these other people.

	She's the best damn witness we have!

	I just don't want to do it.  What else?

Numa is opening another stack of letters.  The dollar bills keep coming.
He points to two giant stacks of mail.

	Hate mail here.  Fan mail here.  the bad news is
	the IRS has just requested an audit on your
	income from this office.

		(he snorts)
	I expected that two months ago, and they're
	wasting their time ... The bad news is the
	National Guard has just asked me to resign after
	18 years.
		(we see his hurt)
	Well, maybe that's good news - it was never as
	good as combat, but this is.  Bill, any more on
	Oswald and Shaw?

	Yeah.  They were seen together in Clinton in
	early September.  The Civil Rights Movement was
	running a voter registration drive.

		BILL (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	... rumor is Shaw, a local boy, was working on
	some arms deal to discredit the civil rights
	movement.  No one really knows what they were
	doing there, but everyone sure saw 'em.  They
	stood out like cottonballs.  I got whites and
	blacks saw 'em, but last time I checked there
	was nothing illegal with registering to vote.
	We still got the Negro junkie, Vernon Bundy, saw
	'em talkin' at the seawall near Lake
	Pontchartrain.  But it's tough, boss - no one
	wants to talk about Shaw.  He's ...

		(back to present)
	You know you keep saying that.

	Keep saying what?

	You're not digging.

	I think Clinton is a breakthrough.  Shaw denies
	he knows Ferrie or Oswald.  Is that right?  It
	proves he's a liar.  Keep on it, Bill.
		(a look from Lou)

	This is interesting - are you ready for this?
	Oswald went to see the FBI two weeks before the
	assassination.  It seems Special Agent Hosty
	made three routine visits to his house,
	supposedly to keep an eye on Marina Oswald.

FLASHBACK TO Dallas FBI Office in 1963.  Oswald is at the counter
addressing the female receptionist.

	I want to see Special Agent Hosty.

	I'm sorry, he's not in.  Can someone else help

	Can I use a pen?

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	He left a note.  Hosty told a Dallas
	newspaperman it was a warning to him to stop
	questioning Marina at their home when Oswald was
	not present.  She was not a citizen, so possibly
	he was threatening to deport her back to Russia.

TIMECUT TO FBI James Hosty confronting his agitated superior, FBI Agent
Shanklin in one of his cubicles.

	But what the note really said no one knows
	because his boss Shanklin told Hosty ...

		(reading the note)
	Oswald's dead now.  There's no trial.  Get rid
	of it.  I don't even want this in the office.
	Get rid of it, Hosty.
		(he gives it back to Hosty)

		SUSIE (V.O.)
	Hosty tore it up and flushed it down the toilet.
	Waggoner Carr, the Attorney  General of Texas,
	says he had evidence from the Dallas Sheriff's
	office that Oswald had been employed as an
	undercover informant for the FBI at a salary of
	$200 a month, beginning more than a year before
	the murder.

		(in present)
	This is just speculation, people, but what if
	the note was describing the assassination
	attempt on J.F.K.?
		(the staff seem surprised by the
	Come on guys, think - that's the only reason to
	destroy it, because if it was any kind of
	threat, like Hosty said, they would've kept it
	'cause it makes their case against the "angry
	lone nut" stronger!  Remember the New Orleans
	meeting with Agent Quigley the day he got

FLASHBACK TO Oswald, under arrest, meeting with Quigley.

	... there again Quigley destroyed the notes of
	the meeting.  I think we can raise the
	possibility that Oswald not only was an
	informant but that he may well have been the
	original source for the telex we have dated
	November 17 warning of the Kennedy assassination
	in Dallas on November 22.

Holds up the telex.  We see a close-up: "URGENT TO ALL SACS FROM

	William Walter, the night clerk on duty here in
	the FBI office, gave me a copy of this.  It went
	all over the country.  Nothing was done, and the
	motorcade went ahead on schedule - and this
	wasn't even mentioned in the Warren Report!
	Read it, Al.

		AL (V.O.)
	"Threat to assassinate President Kennedy in
	Dallas, Texas, November 22-23.  Information
	received by the Bureau has determined that a
	militant revolutionary group may attempt to
	assassinate President Kennedy on his proposed
	trip to Dallas, Texas, etc, etc ..."

FLASHBACK TO New Orleans FBI office in 1963.  Walter, the night clerk,
receives the teletype, reads it, and runs it.

		JIM (V.O.)
	... shortly after the assassination, Walter
	says, the telex was removed from all the files
	in all cities, as an obvious embarrassment to
	the Bureau.  I believe Oswald was sending
	information through Hosty ...

FLASHBACK TO a Dallas safe house in 1963.  Oswald, Ruby, and several
Cubans including the Bull and the Indian are talking.

		JIM (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	I have a hunch that from the get go, Oswald had
	infiltrated this group, probably Cubans or
	right-wing extremists.  He was at the Book
	Depository that day, told to be there by their
	handlers, either to prevent the assassination or
	to take part in it.  They coulda told him
	anything, either 1) they were going to close
	down the plotters that day, or 2) they were
	going to fake an attack on Kennedy to whip up
	public opinion against Russia or Cuba and
	reverse his policies - it doesn't really matter
	what they told him, 'cause he was under orders,
	he was a foot soldier.

Underneath the voice-over we hear and see Oswald, with a floor plan of
the Book Depository, at the center of the group.  Jack Ruby, Bull, and
the Indian, two or three young Cubans and a young white shooter - the
man in the plaid shirt described by Julia Ann Mercer - are also there.

		(to the two young Cubans)
	I can get you in and up there.  This is a shot
	out the southeast window of the sixth floor.
	That floor will be unoccupied between noon and

	What about the elevator?

	I can close it off.  The only access is a

	We get them in as an air-conditioning unit.

	No.  A floor refurbishing group.  Got the van,
	the uniforms ...

		(his back to the screen)
	... if we can get the motorcade to turn from
	Main onto Houston, that'll do the trick, 'cause
	it'll slow down to make the turn here.  You
	can't miss.
		(to the two young Cubans)
	He's a dead duck.

Ruby shares a look with Bull unbeknownst to Oswald, and then we see the
looks on the faces of Jim's team.

	I don't buy it, chief - why would the FBI cover
	it up?  You're talking the whole FBI here.  A
	telex that disappears from every single FBI
	office in the country?

	There's a word - orders.

Back in Garrison's office in 1968.

	Or a cover up!  Jesus, Bill, don't you have
	enough proof of the FBI's complicity now?

		(to Susie)
	Maybe I have a little more respect for this
	country's institutions than you do, Susie.  You
	tell me how the hell you can keep a conspiracy
	going between the Mob, the CIA, FBI, and Army
	Intelligence and who knows what else, when you
	know you can't even keep a secret in this room
	between 12 people!  We got leaks everywhere!
	We're going to trial here!  What the hell do we
	really got?  Oswald, Ruby, Banister, Ferrie are
	dead.  Shaw - maybe he's an agent, I don't know,
	but as a covert operator in my book he's wide
	open for blackmail 'cause of his homosexuality.

	Shaw's our toehold, Bill.  I don't know exactly
	what he is, where he fits, and I don't care.  I
	do know he's lying through his teeth and I'm not
	gonna let go of him!

	So for those reasons, you're going to trial
	against Clay Shaw, chief?  Well, you're gonna
	lose!  We should be investigating all our Mafia
	leads here in New Orleans - Carlos Marcello,
	Santos Trafficante - I can buy that a hell of a
	lot easier than the Government.  Ruby's all Mob,
	knows Oswald, sets him up.  Hoffa - Trafficante
	- Marcello, they hire some guns and they do
	Kennedy and maybe the Government doesn't want to
	open up a whole can o'worms there because it
	used the Mob to get to Castro.  Y'know, Castro
	being assassinated sounds pretty wild to John Q.
	Citizen.  So they close the book on J.F.K.  It
	makes sense to me.

	I don't doubt their involvement, Bill, but at a
	low level.  Could the Mob change the parade
	route, Bill, or eliminate the protection for the
	President?  Could the Mob send Oswald to Russia
	and get him back?  Could the Mob get the FBI,
	the CIA, and the Dallas Police to make a mess of
	the investigation?  Could the Mob appoint the
	Warren Commission to cover it up?  Could the Mob
	wreck the autopsy?  Could the Mob influence the
	national media to go to sleep?  And since when
	has the Mob used anything but .38's for hits, up
	close?  The Mob wouldn't have the guts or the
	power for something of this magnitude.
	Assassins need payrolls, orders, times,
	schedules.  This was a military-style ambush
	from start to finish ... a coup d'etat with
	Lyndon Johnson waiting in the wings.

	Oh, now you're saying Lyndon Johnson was
	involved?  The President of the United States?

His voice is challenging.  There's a pause.  The men exchange looks and

	I know this, Bill - Lyndon Johnson got $1
	billion for his Texas friends, Brown and Root,
	to dredge Cam Ranh Bay for the military in
	Vietnam.  That's just for openers.

	Boss, are you calling the President a murderer?

	If I'm so far from the truth, why is the FBI
	bugging our offices?  Why are our witnesses
	being bought off and murdered?  Why are Federal
	agencies blocking our extraditions and subpoenas
	when we were never blocked before?

	Maybe 'cause there's some rogue element in the

The others in the room groan at the reasoning.  Bill feels embittered,

	With a full-blown conspiracy to cover it up?
	Y'ever read your Shakespeare, Bill?


	Julius Caesar:  "Brutus and Cassius, they too
	are honorable men."  Who killed Caesar?  Twenty,
	twenty-five Senators.  All it takes is one
	Judas, Bill - a few people, on the inside,
	Pentagon, CIA ...

		(he gets up)
	This is Louisiana, chief.  How the hell do you
	know who your daddy is?  'Cause your momma told
	you so ... You're way out there taking a crap in
	the wind, boss, and I for one ain't going along
	on this one.
		(he exits)

Jim sighs, saddened.  Bill was one of his best men.

	Chief, I've had my doubts about Bill for a long
	time.  He's fighting everything.

	We need him back.

	Bill wasted a goddamn month trying to prove that
	mob boys like Barding and Jack Ruby played ball
	in right field with Hunt Oil.

	I don't trust the guy.

	Gentlemen, I will not hear this.  I value Bill
	as much as anyone here.
		(Lou reacts angrily)
	We all need to make room for someone else's
	ideas, Lou, especially me.  Maybe Oswald is what
	everyone says he is and I'm just plain dumb

	I've seen him copying files, leaving here late
	at night.

	I just plain don't trust him anymore.

	Maybe you didn't hear what I said.  I will not
	tolerate this infighting among the staff, I warn
	you that ...

	Boss, then I'm afraid I can't continue working
	with Bill.

Tension, silence.

		(pause, then quietly)
	Are you giving me an ultimatum, Lou?

	Well, if that's what you want to call it.  I
	didn't ever think it would come to this.  I
	guess I am, boss.

	I will not have any damned ultimatums put to me,
	Lou.  I'll accept your resignation.

	You sure got it.  You're one stubborn and stupid
	sonofabitch D.A. and you're making one hell of a

He storms out.

	Aren't you being a little hard?

	No, I don't think I am, Susie.  Anyone else?


It's after dinner and toys scattered around the living room.  Snapper is
chasing his sister Elizabeth around.  Virginia, 6, runs to the ringing
phone in the living room, as her mother and Mattie, stunned, watch the
news of Martin Luther King's death on TV.

	My God!  My God!  What have they done!
	It's lynchin' time!

	I'll get it.
		(into phone)

	Hello.  Is this Jim Garrison's daughter?


	Virginia or Elizabeth?


	Virginia, you're a lucky little girl.  Your
	daddy has entered you in a beauty contest.
	Would you like to be in a beauty contest?

	That sounds fun.

	I need some information from you then.  How old
	are you?


	And how tall are you?

CUT TO Jim's study, where Jim also watches the news in horror.  We see
TV images of Martin Luther King on the motel balcony, dead.

	To repeat - 39-year-old Martin Luther King, who
	preached non-violence and won the Nobel Peace
	Prize, was cut down earlier today by a sniper's
	bullets while standing on the porch of the
	Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee.  He was
	surrounded by his closest aides.  The police say
	they have no suspects at this time.  Mr. King

Jim, visibly shaken, slams his book down on the desk in frustration.

BACK TO the male voice on the phone.

	And you get of from school at 3 every day?


	Do you walk home?

	Uh huh.

Liz comes to the phone, a wary look on her face.

		(taking the phone)
	Who are you talking to?

	Okay, Virginia, that's all I need to know.  I'll
	call you again when it's time for the beauty

	Who's this? ... Hello?  ... Hello?

After a pause, the man hangs up.

	Mama, I'm going to be in a beauty contest!

	What did he ask you?

	Well, he asked me everything.  He asked me ...

Liz freaks out.  She marches into Jim's study.

	Did you enter Virginia into a beauty contest?

		(absorbed in the TV)

	A man just called.  He asked her everything!
	Her height, her weight, when she came home from

	Honey, some crackpot.  Martin Luther King was
	killed in Memphis today!

	Your daughter's life was just threatened!

	Just a crank making phone calls.  Happens a
	dozen times a day at the office.

	Our home, Jim!  A kidnapper, a murderer, who

	Only cowards make crank calls, sweetheart,
	nothing is going to happen.

	How do you know?  How do you even know what goes
	on in this house anymore!  You're too busy
	making speeches, stirring up every crazed
	Klansman in Louisiana after us!

	Get a hold of yourself.

	I'm leaving.  I'm taking the kids and I'm
	leaving!  I won't stand it anymore.

The kids, hearing the shouting, come to watch from the door of the

	Honey, come on.  The government wants you to be
	scared.  They want everybody to be scared to
	speak out.  They count on it.  But there's
	nothing to be scared of.

	You and your government!  What's the matter with
	you?  Don't you have any feelings?  Your
	daughter!  What kind of man are you?

Jim controls himself, shoos the kids out, closes the door.

	I'll take them up to my mother's if it'll make
	you feel better.  Spend a week.  I'll change the
	locks, the phone lines, I'll even get a
	bodyguard, all right?  Elizabeth, get a hold of

	Jim, before this Kennedy thing, nothing mattered
	to you in this life more than your children.
	The other night Jasper tried to show you a
	drawing.  You didn't even notice he was there.
	He came to me bawling his little eyes out.  Jim,
	he's sensitive - he needs more from you.

	I promise I'll make more time for Jasper.

	Is it such a chore?  I don't understand you.

	Damn it, if I say I'll spend more time with him,
	I'll spend more time with him.  I can't fight
	you and the world too, Liz.

	I'm not fighting you, Jim, I'm just trying to
	reach you.  You've changed.

	Of course, I've changed!  My eyes have opened,
	and once they're open, believe me, what used to
	look normal seems insane!  And now King.  Don't
	you think this has something to do with that?
	Can't you see?

		(she explodes)
	I don't want to see, goddammit!  I'm tired.
	I've had enough!  They say you don't have
	anything anyway!  Everybody in town's talking.
	You're ruining this man Shaw's life!  You're
	attacking him because he's homosexual!  Going
	ahead with this stupid "trial"!  Did you ever
	once stop and consider what he's going through?

	That's not why I'm attacking him!  You don't
	believe me - all this time you never believed

	Oh, I don't know anymore!  I believe there was a
	conspiracy, but not the government.  I just want
	to raise our children and live a normal life!  I
	want my life back!

The children press in at the door.  Mattie, ignoring them, is enraged as
she watches King's eulogy on TV.  Riots are already breaking out.

	Well so do I, goddammit!  So do I!  I had a life
	too, y'know - I had a life, too.  But you just
	can't bury your head in the sand like some
	ostrich, goddammit, Elizabeth!  It's not just
	about you - and your well-being and you tow cars
	and your kitchen and your TV and "I'm jes fine
	honey."  While our kids grow up into a shithole
	of lies!  Well, I'm not "fine" about that, I'm
	angry.  My life is fucked, Liz!  And yours is,
	too!  And if you don't want to support me I can
	understand that but don't you go start making
	threats of taking the children away.

	You never talked to me this way before, Jim
	Garrison.  I'm not making any threats.  I'm
	leaving you.  I'm taking the kids to my
	mother's.  I am - I am.

She runs out, past the stunned kids, sobbing as she goes up the stairs.
Jim pursues her like an angry spirit, yelling up the stairs at her.

	Go on then, get out!  Go hide someplace.  Join
	the rest of them!  They'll tell you I'm crazy.
	You got plenty of people'll tell you Jim
	Garrison's crazy.  You won't have a problem
	filing your divorce papers on me ... somebody's
	got to try, goddammit, somebody!

The kids move away, fearful.  Quaking with rage and hurt, Jim stands
there at the bottom of the stairs, strangled with pain.  He takes a law
dictionary in his hand and throws it across the room.  Jasper and
Virginia come over to him.

	Are we going away, Daddy?

	Well, it looks like it, Jasper.

	Because of Kennedy?
		(a beat.  Jim doesn't answer)
	Are the same people gonna kill us, Daddy?

	No, Jasper, nobody's gonna kill us.

	Do you love us?

	Yes, of course I do, honey.

	No.  I mean like mommy loves us.  She really
	loves us.

	I'm scared.

		(bending down)
	There's nothing wrong with feeling a little
	scared, Jasper, Virginia.  Telling the truth can
	be a scary thing.  It scared President Kennedy,
	but he was a brave man.  If you let yourself be
	too scared, then you let the bad guys take over
	the country, don't you - and then everybody gets

	Stay with Mom, Daddy ... please.


The band strikes up "When the Saints Go Marching In" introducing Jim,
who strides in from the wings to shake hands with Jerry Johnson, the
friendly-looking host.

	And now, Jerry, here's Big Jim Garrison,
	District Attorney of New Orleans, Louisiana.

The audience is enthusiastic.  Jim smiles and waves, then sits down next
to Johnson.

	Welcome, District Attorney Garrison.  May I call
	you Jim?

	I've been called everything under the sun,
	Jerry.  Call me whatever you like.

He reads from a script on the desk.

	First we had your charge that the Cuban exiles
	killed the President, then the Mob, then you
	said the oil billionaires did it, then you said
	the Minutemen and the Ku Klux Klan collaborated
	to do it, now your latest theory seems to be
	that the CIA and the FBI and the Pentagon and
	the White House all combined in some elaborate
	conspiracy to kill John Kennedy.  Let me ask
	you, is there anyone besides Lee Harvey Oswald
	who you think did not conspire to kill the

He fixes his eyes on Jim, waiting for a reply.  A weariness has set in
on Jim.  Once more into the slaughter.

	How many hours do I have to answer that one?
	Well let's just say this, Jerry - I've stopped
	beating my wife.
		(the audience laughs)
	Or maybe you should ask Lyndon Johnson.  We know
	he has some answers.

The audience, loving it, cheers.  Johnson looks at Jim blankly, and
reads the next question on his list.

	There have been a number of reports in reputable
	news media - Time, Newsweek, our own NBC - that
	you have gone way beyond the legal means
	available to a prosecutor, that you've
	intimidated and drugged witnesses, bribed them,
	urged them to commit perjury.  What is your

	Your faith in the veracity of the major media is
	touching, Jerry.  It indicates that the Age of
	Innocence is not yet over.  But seriously,
	Jerry, people aren't interested in Jim Garrison
	- they want the hard evidence!  They want to
	know why he was killed and what forces were
	opposed to ...

	Some people would say you're paranoid.

	Well, if I am, why is the Government concealing

	Are they?  Why would they?

		(pulling out his briefcase)
	That's exactly my question, Jerry.  Maybe I'd
	better show you some pictures so you can begin
	to understand what I am talking about.

He pulls out a large blowup of the Allen photo of the three hoboes and
starts to hold it up in front of the camera.

	These arrests were photographed minutes after
	the assassination, and were never shown to the
	American public.  They show ...

It takes Johnson a few moments to realize what's happening.  When he
does, he lunges like a cobra for the photographs, pulling Jim's arm down
so the pictures are out of the camera's view.

	Pictures like this don't show up on television!

		(holding the picture up again)
	Sure they do.  The camera can pick this up.

		(yanking his arm down)
	No, it can't!

Jim swings the picture up a third time, but the stage director gives a
"cut" signal - finger across the throat - and the red light on the
camera blinks off.  The monitor shows another camera panning the

		(quickly realizes he's about to be
cut off)
	Those men you just saw were arrested in Dallas
	minutes after the assassination.  They were
	never seen again.  No record of arrest, no
	fingerprint, no mugshot, nothing.  They all got

The director frantically gives Johnson the "cut" sign.

	We'll be back after these messages.

The audience cheers as the commercial comes on.


Jim comes home.  His wife and two of the children are waiting in the
doorway.  They kiss.  Al Oser interrupts.

	Jim, bad news.  Bill's turned, boss.  I think
	he's given everything we've got to the Feds.

	We studied the memos - there was nothing there,
	chief, nothing!  When we went to confront him,
	the landlady said that sonofabitch just took
	off, left everything.

	I'm sorry.

	I know.

		(to Jim)
	I'm sorry.

	Something sure scared him.

	Bill doesn't scare that easy.  Somebody got to
	his thinking.  He was never that good a thinker.

On the TV, the news is on.

	Much is at stake tonight in California.  Public
	opinion polls show Senator Robert Kennedy of New
	York leading Senator Eugene McCarthy of
	Minnesota.  Their anti-Vietnam War message is
	obviously striking a chord with the voters, and
	whoever wins tonight will certainly emerge as
	the favorite over Vice-President Humphrey to win
	the nomination in Chicago in August.  That man
	now seems to be Senator Kennedy.

We see a shot of Robert Kennedy in Los Angeles with his supporters.

	Sure sounds like he's winning.

	He'll never make it.  If he wins, they'll kill
	him.  He wants to avenge his brother.  He'll
	stop that war.  No, they'll kill him before they
	let him become President.

Liz shares a look with Al and Numa.

	Boss, with Broussard they have everything.  All
	our witnesses, our strategy for the trial.  We'd
	have to doublecheck all his work, there could be
	false leads ... we gotta rethink this trial.
	We don't have a choice.

	I don't think so, Al.  You remember the
	Hemingway story, "The Old Man and the Sea"?
		(Al nods)
	The old fisherman manages to catch this great
	fish - a fish so huge he has to tie it to the
	side of the boat to get it back in.  But by the
	time he reached shore, the fish had long since
	been picked apart by sharks and nothing was left
	but the skeleton.

	Then what are we going through all this trouble

	It's a means to an end.  This war has two fronts
	- in the court of law, we hope, against the
	odds, to nail Clay Shaw on a conspiracy charge.
	In the court of public opinion, it could take
	another 25 or 30 years for the truth to come
	out, but at least we're going to strike the
	first blow.

	And if you're wrong?

	I never doubted for a second that I was.
	Will you come to the trial, Elizabeth?

	I don't think so, Jim ...

She walks out.

We see the outside of Jim's house and hear crickets chirping - the purr
of the suburb.  Inside, the TV election results are still on.

	With 53% of the precincts reporting, Senator
	Kennedy continues to hold a lead of 48% to 41%
	over Senator McCarthy.  CBS News has projected
	Senator Robert Kennedy the winner of the crucial
	California primary.

Jim is in the kitchen fixing himself a sandwich.  There's a strange
feeling in the house.  We hear the wind - a shutter sighing.  Jim
suddenly doesn't feel alone in the kitchen.

		(voice over on TV)
	... and that is what has been going on within
	the United States over the last three years -
	the division, the violence, the disenchantment,
	whether it's between blacks and whites, between
	poor and the more affluent, or between age
	groups or the war in Vietnam - we can start to
	work together.  We are a great country, an
	unselfish country and a compassionate country.
	I intend to make that my basis for running.

He waves and leaves the podium, going back through the kitchen of the
hotel.  Jim is frozen in his spot, shaken.  The ghost of Jack Kennedy -
as he was before the killing - stares at him through the kitchen, as if
encased in a hologram.  The hooded eyes watch Jim without expression.
They're communicating, in some strange subliminal way.  Suddenly shots
ring out from the television and there's pandemonium.


The television shows a scene of confusion.  Jim walks out, looking at
the TV, struck down with his foreknowledge and his inability to do
anything about it.

In their bedroom upstairs that night, Jim gently wakes Liz and holds

	They killed him, honey.


	He won ... and they killed Robert Kennedy.  They
	shot him down.

		(realizing, with terror)
	Oh no!  No!  I can't believe it.  I can't
	believe it.  Both of them, both brothers, oh my

She clings to him, horrified.  He caresses her hair.  They look in each
other's eyes.

	You're right, it hasn't ended, has it?

He kisses her gently - They start to make love, numbed, needing each
other, needing their love in an increasingly terrifying world.

	I wish I could've loved you more ... I feel
	sometimes like I didn't ever .. love you or the
	children enough ... I'm sorry.


The scene is like a circus.  Armed, uniformed guards with walkie-talkies
are everywhere.  Guards with rifles are on the rooftop.  There are
crowds of reporters from around the world and many onlookers.  Everyone
going into the courtroom is frisked by electronic metal detectors.


Jim, accompanied by Mattie, the maid, but not his wife, forges his way
through a tightly packed crowd to the prosecution table, joining Al,
Susie, Numa, and others from his team.  Young law student have come to
watch.  The crowd is noisy to the point of unruliness.  Suddenly there's
a hush as everyone cranes their necks to see Clay Shaw and his
attorneys, Irvin Dymond and two others, enter the court.  Shaw,
impeccably dressed, his high handsome cheekbones sucking on an ever-
present cigarette in a porcelain filter (smoking in court was allowed
then), smiles to those who greet him as if they were not really there
and limps past Jim with a stony indifference.

The clerk starts pounding the gavel to call the court to order as Judge
Edward Aloysius Haggerty sweeps in and takes the bench.  He's a stocky
little Jimmy Cagney look alike with fierce blue eyes under bushy brows.
The jurors - nine white men and three black men - all dressed in suits
and ties, look on.

CUT TO Willie O'Keefe pointing out Clay Shaw.

	That's Clay Bertrand.  That's the man I saw at
	David Ferrie's.

Irvin Dymond cross-examines O'Keefe.

		(words wafting)
	That's who you say you saw ... a confessed
	homosexual, convicted of solicitation, pandering
	... a man who has lied about most everything,
	who ...

TIME CUT TO Vernon Bundy, a poor black man, who points at Shaw.

	It was that man there, yessir.  He was at the
	Pontchartrain wall with the man who shot the
	President.  I remember him cause o' his limp

	A heroin addict, injecting himself at the wall,
	barely conscious ...

TIME CUT TO Jim looking over at a strange man, Matthews, a kind of
lawyer, making notes and conferring with Shaw and Dymond.  Matthews
seems to have some authority over both men.

Corrie Collins, a black woman who is one of the CORE workers from
Clinton, is on the stand.

		(pointing at Shaw)
	... that was the man there.  He dropped Oswald
	off on the voter line.  I remember 'cause they
	were the only white strangers around that
	morning.  That big, black Cadillac of his made
	me think they might be FBI.

TIME CUT TO the Town Marshall on the stand.

		(looking at Shaw)
	... said he was a representative of one
	International Trade Mart in New Orleans.

	... more than five years ago, for two minutes.
	It's fair to say you could be mistaken, isn't

TIME CUT TO Dymond cross-examining Dean Andrews, shaking his head.

	... figment of my imagination ... The cat's
	stewing me, the oyster's shucking me I told him,
	you got the right at-at but the wrong oh-oh ...
	Bertrand is not Shaw, scout's honor and you can
	tell him I said so ...

	Objection, your Honor.  This office has won a
	conviction of perjury against Dean Andrews on
	this matter.

	Exception taken.  That case is on appeal!

Arguments follow.

TIME CUT TO Charles Goldberg, a mild-looking New York accountant, on the
stand with Dymond cross-examing.

		(relishing this)
	Mr. Goldberg, you claim you met David Ferrie and
	Clay Shaw while on a vacation here from your
	accounting business in New York, you had drinks
	and, under the influence discussed killing
	Kennedy, is that not so?

	I did.


	Well, I wanted to make sure she's the same girl
	I sent.

	I see ... and why are you experiencing this

		(launching into his explanation)
	Well, you see, I've been subject to hypnosis and
	psychological warfare ever since 1948, when I
	was in Korea ...

We see the faces of people in the courtroom ... the judge's face ...
obviously Goldberg is disturbed (or maybe he is telling the truth, but
it doesn't play well) ... Jim looks at Al sickly.

	He was one of Broussard's witnesses, chief.  I'm
	sorry.  He was totally sane when we took his

	But how does Dymond know what to ask?  FUCK!
	We're dead.

	... when someone tries to get your attention -
	catch your eye - that's a clue right off.

TIME CUT TO Jim calling Officer Habighorst to testify.

	Your Honor, I call police officer Aloysisus
	Habighorst to the stand.

Habighorst, the clean-cut police officer who booked Clay Shaw on the day
of his arrest, starts forward.

	I'm going to have to ask the jury to leave the


This is an ugly surprise for Jim.  We see him at the bench arguing
loudly with the judge.  Susie, Dymond and Al are also there.

	I'm sorry, Jim, but the defendant did not have
	his lawyer present when asked.

FLASHBACK TO 1967, in the New Orleans police station.  Shaw is being
booked.  The press is there and Habighorst is questioning him.

	Any alias?

	Clay Bertrand.

We see a close-up on Habighorst typing this in.

	Jesus, Ed, from time immemorial it's been
	standard booking procedure to ask an alias.  You
	know that.  There's no constitutional
	requirement that says a lawyer has to be present
	for routine questions.

	I call'em as I see'em, Jim.  I'm ruling it

	That's our case!

	If that's your case, you didn't have a case.  I
	wouldn't believe whatever Habighorst said,

	I can't believe you're saying this in the

	Well, I am saying it.  Bring in the jury.

	We're filing for a writ to the appellate court.

	You do that.

Dymond goes back to Shaw, very please.  Shaw smokes, icy.  Jim,
devastated, sits, feeling it's over.

CUT TO Clay Shaw on the stand.  Dymond cross-examines him.

	... Oswald?

	No, I did not.

	... ever called Dean Andrews?

	No, I did not.

	... and have you ever met David Ferrie?

		(with a smirk of amusement)
	No, I would not even know what he looked like
	except for the pictures I've been shown.

	... did you ever use the alias Clay Bertrand?

	No, I did not.

	Thank you ... Mr. Shaw.

Jim rises slowly out of his chair.

	Well, a very great actor has just given us a
	great performance, Your Honor, but we are
	nowhere closer to the truth.  Let it be noted,
	my office is charging Clay Shaw with outright
	perjury on the fifteen answers he has given, not
	one word of this ...

	You're out of order, Jim Boy, now sit down.
	Strike those remarks!!

CUT TO later in the trial.  A movie screen has been installed for the
jury.  Jim paces dramatically, as if waiting, casting looks at the door.
Members of the press pack the hot room, and a fan turns overhead.

	To prove their was a conspiracy involving Clay
	Shaw we must prove there was more than one man
	involved in the assassination.  To do that, we
	must look at the Zapruder film, which my office
	has subpoenaed.  The American public has not
	seen that film because it has been kept locked
	in a vault in the Time-Life Building in New York
	City for the last five years.  There is a reason
	for that.  Watch.

The Zapruder film (8mm) now rolls.  We have seen pieces of it before in
the opening of the film, but now we see it whole.  It is crucial that
this piece of film be repeated several times during the trial to drive
home a point that is easily lost on casual viewing.  The first viewing
is silent except for the sound of the clanky projector.  It lasts about
25 seconds, and then the lights come on.  The jury is shaken.  The judge
is shaken.  The people in the courtroom murmur.  Even Clay Shaw is
surprised at what he has seen.  Jim says nothing, letting the truth of
it sink in.  Then:

	A picture speaks a thousand words.  Yet
	sometimes the truth is too simple for some ...
	The Warren Commission thought they had an open
	and shut case: three bullets, one assassin - but
	two things happened that made it virtually
	impossible: 1)the Zapruder film which you just
	saw, and 2)the third wounded man, Jim Tague, who
	was nicked by a fragment down by the Triple
	Underpass.  The time frame of 5.6 seconds
	established by the Zapruder film left no
	possibility of a fourth shot from Oswald's
	rifle, but the shot or fragment that left a
	superficial wound on Tague's cheek had to come
	from a bullet that missed the car entirely.  Now
	they had two bullets that hit, and we know one
	of them was the fatal head shot.  So a single
	bullet remained to account for all seven wounds
	in Kennedy and Connally.  But rather than admit
	to a conspiracy or investigate further, the
	Commission chose to endorse the theory put forth
	by an ambitious junior counsellor, Arlen
	Specter.  One of the grossest lies ever forced
	on the American people, we've come to know it as
	the "magic bullet" theory.

CUT TO a drawing which has been put on a chair for the Jury.  Jim has
also moved Al, acting as J.F.K., into a chair directly behind the larger
Numa, acting as Governor Connally.  He demonstrates with a pointer.

	The magic bullet enters the President's back,
	headed downward at an angle of 17 degrees.  It
	then moves upward in order to leave Kennedy's
	body from the front of his neck - his neck wound
	number two - where it waits 1.6 seconds, turns
	right and continues into Connally's body at the
	rear of his right armpit - wound number three.
	Then, the bullet heads downward at an angle of
	27 degrees, shattering Connally's fifth rib and
	leaving from the right side of his chest -
	wounds four and five.  The bullet continues
	downward and then enters Connally's right wrist
	- wound number six - shattering the radius bone.
	It then enters his left thigh - wound number
	seven - from which it later falls out and is
	found in almost "pristine" condition on a
	stretcher in a corridor of Parkland Hospital.
		(he shows a mock-up of the
"pristine" bullet)
	That's some bullet.  Anyone who's been in combat
	can tell you never in the history of gunfire has
	there been a bullet like this.
		(the court laughs)
	The Army Wound Ballistics experts at Edgewood
	Arsenal fired some comparison bullets and not
	one of them looked anything like this one.
		(he shows mock-ups of comparison
	Take a look at CE 856, an identical bullet fired
	through the wrist of a human cadaver - just one
	of the bones smashed by the magic bullet.  Yet
	the government says it can prove this with some
	fancy physics in a nuclear laboratory.  Of
	course they can.  Theoretical physics can prove
	an elephant can hang from a cliff with it's tail
	tied to a daisy, but use your eyes - your common
	sense -
		(he holds the bullet)
	Seven wounds, skin, bone.  This single bullet
	explanation is the foundation of the Warren
	Commission's claim of a lone assassin.  And once
	you conclude the magic bullet could not create
	all seven of those wounds, you have to conclude
	there was a fourth shot and a second rifleman.
	And if there was a second rifleman, there had to
	be a conspiracy, which we believe involved the
	accused Clay Shaw.  Fifty-one witnesses,
	gentlemen of the jury, thought they heard shots
	coming from the Grassy Knoll, which is to the
	right and front of the President.

Jim walks to a drawing of an overhead view of Dealey Plaza.  On it are
dots representing locations of the witnesses. He points to each portion.
He pauses and looks out into the courtroom - Liz has entered accompanied
by Jasper.  Quietly she takes a seat.  Jim is unbelieving at first, then
very moved.  He takes a beat, then:

	Key witnesses that day - Charles Brehm, a combat
	vet, right behind Jean Hill and Mary Moorman,
	S.M. Holland and Richard Dodd on the overpass,
	J.C. Price overlooking the whole Plaza, Randolph
	Carr, a steelworker, who served in the Rangers in
	North Africa, William Newman, father of two
	children who hit the deck on the north side of
	Elm, Abraham Zapruder, James Simmons - each of
	these witnesses has no doubt whatsoever one or
	more shots came from behind the picket fence!
	Twenty six trained medical personnel at Parkland
	Hospital saw with their own eyes the back of the
	President's head blasted out.

CUT TO: Dr. Peters on the stand.

		(describing the wound)
	... a large 7 cm opening in the right
	occipitoparietal area, a considerable portion of
	the brain was missing there.
		(he gestures to his head)

CUT TO: Dr. McClelland on the stand.

	... almost a fifth or perhaps a quarter of the
	back of the head - this area here ...
		(he indicates his head)
	... had been blasted out along with the brain
	tissue there.  The exit hole in the rear of his
	head was about 120 mm. across.  There was also
	a large piece of skull attached to a flap of
	skin in the right temporal area.

FLASHBACK TO: Parkland Hospital Emergency Room on that day in 1963.  The
doctors work on the President.  The wounds on the back of his head are
evident but will change later in the autopsy.  He is placed in a bronze

	Not one of the civilian doctors who
	examined the President at Parkland Hospital
	regarded his throat wound as anything but
	a wound of entry.  The doctors found no
	wounds of entry in the back of the head.
	But the body was then illegally moved
	to Washington for the autopsy.

CUT TO: the Secret Service team preparing to wheel the casket out.  The
Dallas Medical Examiner, Dr. Rose, backed by a justice of the peace,
bars the way.  A furious wrestling match ensues.
	Texas Law, sir, requires the autopsy be
	done here.  You're not taking him with

	Sonofabitch, you're not telling me what
	to do!  Get the hell outta the way!

The Secret Service agents put the doctor and judge up against the wall
at gunpoint and sweep out of the hospital.

	Because when a coup d'etat has occurred
	there's a big difference between an
	autopsy performed by civilian doctors
	and one by military doctors working for
	the government.

FLASHBACK TO: Love Field the same day.  We see Air Force One taking off
and a photo of L.B.J. being sworn in.

	The departure of Air Force One from
	Love Field that Friday afternoon was
	not so much a takeoff as it was a
	getaway with the newly sworn in President.

	Objection, your honor.


	On the plane, of course, Lee Harvey
	Oswald's guilt was announced by the
	White House Situation Room to the
	passengers before any kind of investigation
	had started.  The "lone nut" solution
	is in place.

	Objection!  Your Honor!

	Sustained.  Mr. Garrison, would you please
	bottle the acid.

FLASHBACK TO: the Bethesda autopsy room in 1963.  The room is crammed
with military officers, Secret Service men and, at the center, three
intimidated doctors.  Pictures are being taken as they remove bullet

	The three Bethesda Naval Hospital doctors
	picked by the Military left something to
	be desired inasmuch as none of them had
	experience with combat gunfire wounds.
	Through their autopsy we have been able
	to justify eight wounds - three to Kennedy,
	five to Connally - from just two bullets,
	one of these bullets the "magic bullet".

CUT TO: Jim in court with a series of drawings indicating with arrows
entry and exit wounds to Kennedy's neck and head.  Dr. Finck is on the
stand, erect, very precise, and irritated.

	Colonel Finck, are you saying someone
	told you not to dissect the neck?

	I was told that the family wanted
	examination of the head.

	As a pathologist it was your obligation
	to explore all possible causes of death,
	was it not?

	I had the cause of death.

	Your Honor, I would ask you to direct the
	witness to answer my question.  Why did
	Colonel Finck not dissect the track of
	the bullet wound in the neck?

	Well I heard Dr. Humes stating that -
	he said ...

FLASHBACK TO: Bethesda autopsy room.

	Who's in charge here?

	I am.

	I don't remember his name.  You must
	understand it was quite crowded, and
	when you are called in circumstances
	like that to look at the wound of the
	President who is dead, you don't look
	around too much to ask people for their
	names and who they are.

	But you were a qualified pathologist.
	Was this Army general a qualified


	But you took his orders.  He was
	directing the autopsy.

	No, because there were others.  There were

	There were admirals.

	Oh yes, there were admirals - and when
	you are a lieutenant colonel in the Army
	you just follow orders, and at the end of
	the autopsy we were specifically told -
	as I recall it was Admiral Kenney, the
	Surgeon General of the Navy - we were
	specifically told not to discuss the case.

		(in Bethesda scene)
	Gentlemen, what you've seen in this room
	is intensely private to the Kennedy family
	and it is not our business to ...

Jim turns away from the jury.  His point is made.  Finck is no longer on
the stand.

	In addition to which, 1) the chief
	pathologist, Commander Humes, by his
	own admission voluntarily burned his
	autopsy notes, 2)never released the
	autopsy photos to the public, 3)
	President Johnson ordered the blood
	soaked limousine filled with bullet
	holes and clues to be immediately
	washed and rebuilt, 4) sent John
	Connally's bloody suit right to the
	cleaners, and 5) when my office finally
	got a court order to examine President
	Kennedy's brain in the National
	Archives in the hopes of finding from
	what direction the bullets came, we
	were told by the government the President's
	brain had disappeared!

There's a pause, and then a murmur from the court.  Jim is on a roll and
knows it.  The faces in the courtroom are with him, absorbed, horrified.
The law students are still there, they have been since day one.  But it
is Liz's interest that touches him the most.

	So what really happened that day?  Let's
	just for a moment speculate, shall we?
	We have the epileptic seizure around
	12:15 P.M. ... distracting the police,
	making it easier for the shooters to
	move into their places.  The epileptic
	later vanished, never checking into the
	hospital.  The A Team gets on the 6th
	floor of the Book Depository ...

FLASHBACK TO: the Book Depository, 1963.  A shooter and two spotters
dressed as working men move into the Oswald spot.  One spotter produces
the Mannlicher-Carcano.

	They were refurbishing the floors in
	the Depository that week, which allowed
	unknown workmen in and out of the
	building.  The men move quickly into
	position just minutes before the

The camera takes the shooter's point of view: we see down the street
through a scope.  His spotter wears a radio earpiece.  The second
spotter is working out of the southeast window.

	The second spotter is probably calling
	all the shots on a radio to the two
	other teams.  He as the best overall
	view - "the God spot".

Inside the Dal - Tex Building, a shooter and a spotter dressed as air -
conditioning men move into a small second - story textile storage room.

	B Team - one rifleman and one spotter
	with a headset, with access to the
	building - moves into a low floor of the
	Dal - Tex Building.

At the picket fence a shooter in a Dallas Police uniform moves into
place, aiming up Elm Street.  His spotter has a radio to his ear.
Another man in a Secret Service suit moves further down the fence.

	The third team, the C Team, moves in
	behind the picket fence above the Grassy
	Knoll, where the shooter and the spotter
	are first seen by the late Lee Bowers
	in the watchtower of the railyard.  They
	have the best position of all.  Kennedy
	is close and on a flat low trajectory.
	Part of this team is a coordinator who's
	flashed security credentials at several
	people, chasing them out of the parking
	lot area.

An "agent" in tie and suit moves on the underpass, keeping an eye out.
In the crowd on Elm Street, we catch brief glimpses of the umbrella man
and the Cuban, neither of them watching Kennedy, both looking around to
their teams.  There is a third man, heavyset, in a construction helmet.

	Probably two to three more men are down
	in the crowd on Elm ... ten to twelve
	men ... three teams, three shooters.
	The triangulation of fire Clay Shaw
	and David Ferrie discussed two months
	before.  They've walked the Plaza, they
	know every inch.  They've calibrated their
	sights, practiced on moving targets.
	They're ready.  It's going to be a turkey
	shoot.  Kennedy's motorcade makes the
	turn from Main onto Houston.

J.F.K. waves and turns in slow motion.

	Six witnesses see two gunmen on the
	sixth floor of the Depository moving
	around.  Some of them think they're
	policemen with rifles.

From Houston Street we look up at the sixth floor of the Book Depository
and see the shooter moving around.  Arnold Rowland points him out to his

	... probably a security agent.

In the Dallas County Jail, Johnny Powell is one of many convicts housed
on the sixth floor - the same height as the men in the Book Depository.
We look across to the Depository through cell bars.  Johnny and various
cell mates are watching two men in the sixth floor of the Depository.

	John Powell, a prisoner on the sixth floor
	of the Dallas County Jail, sees them.

	... quite a few of us saw them.  Everybody
	was hollering and yelling and that.  We
	thought is was security guys ...

	... they don't shoot him coming up Houston,
	which is the easiest shot for a single
	shooter in the Book Depository, but they
	wait till he gets to the killing zone
	between three rifles.  Kennedy makes the
	final turn from Houston onto Elm, slowing
	down to some 11 miles per hour.

All the shooters tighten, taking aim.  It's a tense moment.

	The shooters across Dealey Plaza tighten,
	taking their aim across their sights ...
	waiting for the radio to say "Green
	Green!" or "Abort Abort!"

The camera is on Kennedy waving.  A MONTAGE follows - all the faces in
the square that we've introduced in the movie now appear one after the
other, watching - the killers, the man with the umbrella, the Newman
family, Mary Moorman photographing, Jean Hill, Abraham Zapruder filming
it, S.M. Holland, Patrolman Harkness ... INTERCUT with the Zapruder and
Nix films on J.F.K. in the final seconds coming abreast of the Stemmons
Freeway sign.

	The first shot rings out.

CUT TO: the Dal - Tex shooter firing.  We see the back of Kennedy's head
through his gun sight.  Kennedy (stand in) reacts in the Zapruder film.

	Sounding like a backfire, it misses
	completely ... Frame 161, Kennedy stops
	waving as he hears something.  Connally
	turns his head slightly to the right.

Everything goes off very fast now.  Repeating intercuts are slowed down
with shots of Kennedy reacting in the Zapruder film.

	Frame 193 - the second shot hits Kennedy
	in the throat from the front.  Frame 225 -
	the President emerging from the road sign.
	He obviously has been hit, raising his arms
	to his throat.

CUT TO: the picket fence shooter hitting him from the fence.  We see
Kennedy (stand in) from the point of view of his telescopic sight.  In
the Zapruder film, we see Kennedy clutch his throat.

	Frame 232, the third shot - the President
	has been hit in the back, drawing him
	downward and forward.  Connally, you will
	notice, shows no signs at all of being
	hit.  He is visibly holding his Stetson
	which is impossible if his wrist has
	been shattered.

CUT TO: the Dal - Tex shooter.  We see Kennedy from his point of view,
and the Zapruder film in slow motion.

	Connally's turning now here.  Frame 238
	... the fourth shot misses Kennedy and
	takes Connally in the back.  This is the
	key shot that proves two rifles from the
	rear.  This is 1.6 seconds after the third
	shot, and we know no manual bolt action
	rifle can be recycled in that time.
	Connally is hit, his mouth drops, he yells
	out, "My God, they're going to kill us
	all" ... Here ...

CUT TO: the sixth floor shooter firing rapidly and missing Kennedy but
hitting Connally (stand in).

	... the umbrella man is signalling "He's
	not dead.  Keep shooting."  James Tague
	down at the underpass is hit sometime now
	by another shot that misses.

CUT TO: the umbrella manpumping his umbrella.  The Cuban is
looking off.  The man on the curb in the construction helmet is looking
not at J.F.K. but up at the Book Depository.

	The car brakes.  The fifth and fatal
	shot - frame 313 - takes Kennedy in the
	head from the front ...

CUT TO the picket fence shooter.  We see J.F.K. from his point of view.
He fires, and then we see Kennedy in the Zapruder film flying backwards
and to his left in a ferocious, conclusive spray of blood and brain
tissue.  We repeat the shot.

	This is the key shot.  Watch it again.
	The President going back to his left.
	Shot from the front and right.  Totally
	inconsistent with the shot from the
	Depository.  Again - (repeats) ... back
	and two the left.  (he repeats it like
	a mantra) ... back and to the left ...
	back and to the left.

Kennedy's car speeds off.  Jackie is like a crawling animal in a pillbox
hat on the back of the car.  The people on the other side of the
underpass wave innocently as the car speeds through with it's horrifying
contents.  Pigeons fly off the rooftop of the Book Depository.

	What happens then?  Pandemonium.  The
	shooters quickly disassemble their
	various weapons, all except the Oswald

CUT TO: sixth floor spotter dumping the Mannlicher - Carcano in a corner
as he leaves ... and then to the Dal - Tex spotter and shooter, who
break down the gun and move out ... and then to the spotter with the
fence shooter, who quickly breaks down the weapon, throwing it in the
trunk of a car parked at the fence.  He walks away.  The fence shooter,
dressed as a policeman, blends with the crowd.

CUT TO: the umbrella man and the Cuban sitting quietly together on the
north side of the curb of Elm Street.

CUT TO: stunned, confused, people in the crowd - some lying on the
ground, some running for the Grassy Knoll.

Back in the courtroom, patrolman Joe Smith is on the stand.

	Patrolman Joe Smith rushed into the
	parking lot behind the fence.  He
	smelled gunpowder.

FLASHBACK TO: the picket fence area where, with his gun drawn, Smith
rushes across to a man standing by a car who reacts quickly, producing
credentials.  He is one of the hoboes.  There's a strange moment when
the camera moves from Smith's eyes to the man's fingernails.

	... the character produces credentials
	from his pocket which showed him to be
	Secret Service.  So I accepted that and
	let him go and continued our search.
	But I regretted it, 'cause this guy
	looked like an auto mechanic.  He had on
	a sports shirt and pants, but he had
	dirty fingernails.  Afterwards it didn't
	ring true, but at the time we were so
	pressed for time.

	Yet all Secret Servicemen in Dallas that
	day are accounted for.  None were on foot
	in Dealey Plaza before or after the shooting,
	till Dallas Secret Service Chief Forrest
	Sorrels returned at 12:55.

Back in the courtroom, Liz is totally absorbed.  Jim exchanges looks
with her.  The camera movies in for a close - up of Jim.

		(pausing for effect)
	What else was going on in Dealey Plaza
	that day?  At least 12 other individuals
	were taken into custody by Dallas police.
	No records of their arrests.  Men acting
	like hoboes were being pulled off trains,
	marched through Dealey Plaza, photographed,
	and yet there is no records of their

FLASHBACK TO: the three hoboes being arrested ... marching across Dealey
Plaza.  The hoboes look familiar now.

	Men identifying themselves as Secret
	Service Agents were all over the place.
	But who was impersonating them?

FLASHBACK TO: men in suits, ties, and hats moving people out of the
parking lot area ... turning a policeman back.

FLASHBACK TO: the Cuban, putting away a radio, and the umbrella man, who
now rise and leave the area in opposite directions.

	And where was Lee Oswald?  Probably
	in the second floor snack room.  Eddie
	Piper and William Shelly saw Oswald
	eating lunch in the first floor lunch
	room around twelve.  Around 12:15, on
	her way out of the building to see the
	motorcade, secretary Carolyn Arnold saw
	Oswald in the second floor snack room,
	where he said he went for a Coke ...

In the second floor lunchroom of the Book Depository we see Carolyn
Arnold, a pregnant secretary, crossing past Oswald, who is in a booth.

	He was sitting in one of the booths on
	the right hand side of the room.  He
	was alone as usual and appeared to be
	having lunch.  I did not speak to him
	but I recognized clearly.  I remember
	it was 12:15 or later.  It coulda been
	12:25, five minutes before the
	assassination, I don't exactly remember.
	I was pregnant and I had a craving for
	a glass of water.

On the sixth floor of the depository, Bonnie Ray Williams is eating a
chicken lunch, alone.

	At the same time, Bonnie Ray Williams is
	supposedly eating his chicken lunch on
	the sixth floor, at least until 12:15,
	maybe 12:20 ... he sees nobody.

On the street, Arnold Rowland and his wife look up at the sixth floor
windows and we see, from their point of view, two shadowy figures ...

	Down on the street, Arnold Rowland was
	seeing two men in the sixth floor
	windows ... presumably after Bonnie Ray
	Williams finished his lunch and left.

We see footage of J.F.K. coming up Houston - waving.

Oswald walks into the second floor lunchroom as policeman Marrion Baker
runs in, gun at his side.  He is about 30 feet from Oswald.  Roy Truly,
the superintendent, runs in a moment later.

	Kennedy was running five minutes late
	for his appointment with death.  He was
	due at 12:25.  If Oswald was the assassin,
	he was certainly pretty non-chalant about
	getting himself into position.  Later he
	told Dallas police he was standing in the
	second floor snackroom.  Probably told to
	wait there for a phone call by his handler.
	The phones were in the adjacent and empty
	second floor offices, but the call never
	came.  A maximum 90 seconds after Kennedy
	is shot, patrolman Marrion Baker runs into
	Oswald in that second story lunchroom.

	Hey you!
		(to Truly)
	Do you know this man?  Is he an employee?

	Yes he is.
		(as Baker moves on)
	The President's been shot!

Oswald reacts as if hearing it for the first time.  Truly and Baker
continue running up the stairs.  Oswald proceeds to get a Coke and
continues out of the room.

CUT TO: the sixth floor, where we see Oswald as the shooter.  After
firing, he runs full speed for the stairs, stashing the rifle on the
other side of the loft.  Our camera follows him roughly down stairs - we
hear the loud sound of his shoes banging on the hollow wood - to the
lunchroom, where Patrolman Baker and Superintendent Truly run in.  Then
they start to repeat the same action as seen in the previous scene.

	... but what the Warren Report would
	have us believe is that after firing 3
	bolt action shots in 5.6 seconds, Oswald
	then leaves three cartridges neatly side
	by side in the firing nest, wipes the
	rifle clear of fingerprints, stashes the
	rifle on the other side of the loft,
	sprints down five flights of stairs, past
	witnesses Victoria Adams and Sandra Styles
	who never see him, and then shows up cool
	and calm on the second floor in front of
	Patrolman Baker - all this within a
	maximum 90 seconds of the shooting.  Is
	he out of breath?  According to Baker,
	absolutely not.

CUT TO: the second floor.  Oswald ambles past Mrs. Reid, a secretary in
the second floor office, on his way out, Coke bottle in hand and wearing
his usual dreamy look ... there's a lingering close - up on his face.

	Assuming he is the sole assassin, Oswald
	is now free to escape from the building.
	The longer he delays, the more chance the
	building will be sealed by the police.
	Is he guilty?  Does he walk out the
	nearest staircase?  No, he buys a Coke
	and at a slow pace, spotted by Mrs. Reid
	in the second floor office, he strolls
	out the more distant front exit, where
	the cops start to gather ...

Outside, we see Oswald stroll out the door of the Book Depository into
the crowd.  He heads for the bus stop to the east.

	Oddly, considering three shots are
	supposed to have come from there, nobody
	seals the Depository for ten more
	minutes.  Oswald slips out, as do
	several other employees.  Of course,
	when he realized something had gone
	wrong and the President really had
	been shot, he knew there was a problem.
	He may even have known he was the patsy.
	An intuition maybe - the President
	killed in spite of his warning.  The
	phone call that never came.  Perhaps
	fear now came to Lee Oswald.  He wasn't
	going to stand around for roll call.

Back in the courtroom, Jim continues speaking:

	The story gets pretty confusing now -
	more twists in it than a watersnake.
	Richard Carr says he saw four men take
	off from the Book Depository in a
	Rambler that possibly belongs to Janet
	Williams.  Deputy Roger Craig says two
	men picked up Oswald in the same Rambler
	a few minutes later.  Other people say
	Oswald took a bus out of there, and
	then because he was stuck in traffic,
	he hopped a cab to his rooming house
	in Oak Cliff ...

FLASHBACK TO: Oswald's boarding house.  Oswald enters his room, passing
Earlene Roberts, the heavyset white housekeeper.

	... we must assume he wanted to get
	back in touch with his intell team,
	probably at a safehouse or at the
	Texas Theatre, but how could he be
	sure?  He didn't know who to trust
	anymore ...

		(watching TV)
	My God, did you see that, Mr. Lee?
	A man shot the President.

The camera closes in on Oswald's perplexed face.  Earlene peeks out the
shades as she hears two short honks on a horn.

Outside is a black police car driven by Tippit.  Also in the car is the
fence shooter, dressed as a Dallas policeman.  The car drives by, honks
twice, waits, then moves away.  During this visual, we see the fence
shooter changing his uniform into civilian clothes.

	Oswald returns to this rooming house
	around 1 P.M., half hour after the
	assassination, puts on his jacket,
	grabs his .38 revolver, leaves at 1:04
	... Earlene Roberts, the housekeeper,
	says she heard two beeps on a car horn
	and two uniformed cops pulled up to the
	house while Oswald was in his room, like
	it was a signal or something ... Officer
	Tippit is shot between 1:10 and 1:15
	about a mile away.  Though no one actually
	saw him walking or jogging, the Government
	says Oswald covered that distance.
	Incidentally, that walk, if he did it, is
	in a straight line toward Jack Ruby's
	house.  Giving the government the benefit
	of the doubt, Oswald would have had to
	jog a mile in six to eleven minutes and
	commit the murder, then reverse direction
	and walk 3/5 of a mile to the Texas
	Theatre and arrive sometime before 1:30.
	That's some walking.

On a street, Oswald walks alone, fast.  A police car pulls up alongside
him on 10th Street.  Oswald leans on the passenger side of the window.
Officer Tippit, suspicious, gets out to question him.  Oswald pulls his
.38 revolver and shoots him down in the street with 5 shots.

	It's also a useful conclusion.  After all,
	why else would Oswald kill Officer Tippit,
	unless he just shot the President and
	feared arrest?  Not one credible witness
	could identify Oswald as Tippit's killer.

Domingo Benavides, hidden in his truck only a few yards away, watches as
another unidentified man (not seen before) shoots and walks away.

	Domingo Benavides, the closest witness to
	the shooting, refused to identify Oswald
	as the killer and was never taken to a

We see Acquilla Clemons, a black woman, looking on.  She watches as two
men kill Tippit.  One of them resembles the fence shooter.  The other
one is a mystery figure, seen before in the fringes.  The men walk off
quickly in opposite directions.  We notice a policeman's uniform hanging
in the back seat of Tippit's car.

	Acquilla Clemons saw the killer with another
	man and says they went off in separate
	directions.  Mrs. Clemons was never taken to
	lineup or to the Warren Commission.  Mr.
	Frank Wright, who saw the killer run away,
	stated flatly that the killer was not Lee
	Oswald.  Oswald is found with a .38 revolver.
	Tippit is killed with a .38 automatic.  At
	the scene of the crime Officer J.M. Poe
	marks the shells with his initials to record
	the chain of evidence.

CUT TO: Policeman Poe marking the bullets.

	Those initials are not on the three
	cartridge cases which the Warren Commission
	presents to him.

On a Dallas avenue near the Texas Theatre, Oswald moves along, spooked.
Police cars roar by with sirens blaring.  Johnny Brewer, in a shoestore,
spots him and follows him.

	Oswald is next seen by shoe salesman
	Johnny Brewer lurking along Jefferson
	Avenue.  Oswald is scared.  He begins
	to realize the full implications of this
	thing.  He goes into the Texas Theatre,
	possibly his prearranged meeting point,
	but though he has $14 in his pocket, he
	does not buy the 75 - cent ticket.  Brewer
	has the cashier call the police.

Outside the Texas Theatre Oswald walks past the cashier, who is out on
the sidewalk watching the police cars go by.  A double feature is
playing - Cry of Battle with Van Heflin and War is Hell.  He goes in.

CUT TO: 30 officers arriving at the theatre in a fleet of patrol cars.

	... in response to the cashier's call, at
	least thirty officers in a fleet of patrol
	cars descend on the movie theatre.  This has
	to be the most remarkable example of police
	intuition since the Reichstag fire.  I don't
	buy it.  They knew - someone knew - Oswald
	was going to be there.  In fact, as early as
	12:44, only 14 minutes after the assassination,
	the police radio put out a description
	matching Oswald's size and build.  Brewer
	says the man was wearing a jacket, but the
	police say the man who shot Tippit left his
	jacket behind.  Butch Burroughs, theatre
	manager, says Oswald bought some popcorn from
	him at the time of the Tippit slaying.
	Burroughs and witness Bernard Haire also
	said there was an Oswald look - alike taken
	from the theatre.  Perhaps it was he who
	sneaked into the theatre just after 1:30.

Inside the theatre, Cry of Battle is on the screen.  Twelve to fourteen
spectators sit scattered between the balcony and ground floor.  Brewer
leads the officers onto the stage and the lights come on.  He points to

	In any case, Brewer helpfully leads the
	cops into the theatre and from the stage
	points Oswald out ...

The cops advance on Oswald, who jumps up, as if expecting to be shot.

	This is it!

	Kill the President, will you?

Scared, Oswald takes a swing at a policeman.  He pulls out his gun.  The
officers close in on him from the rear and front.  A wrestling and
shoving match ensues.  One officer gets a chokehold on Oswald and
another one hits him.

	The cops have their man!  It was already
	been decided - in Washington.

Outside the theatre, Oswald, his eye blackened, is led out by the
phalanx of officers.  They are surrounded by an angry crowd.

	Kill him!  Kill him!

	Dr. Best, Himmler's right hand man in the
	Gestapo, once said "as long as the police
	carries out the will of the leadership, it
	is acting legally."  That mindset allowed
	for 400 political murders in the Weimar
	Republic of 1923 - 32, where the courts
	were controlled and the guilty acquitted.
	Oswald must've felt like Josef K in Kafka's
	"The Trial".  He was never told the reason
	of his arrest, he does not know the unseen
	forces ranging against him, he cries out
	his outrage in the police lineup just like
	Josef K excoriates the judge for not being
	told the charges against him.  But the
	state is deaf.  The quarry is caught.  By
	the time he is brought from the theatre,
	a large crowd is waiting to scream at
	him.  By the time he reaches police
	headquarters, he is booked for murdering
	Tippit ...

At the Dallas police station, Dallas Police Captain Will Fritz takes a
call from a high official in Washington.  In the background we notice
Lee Oswald continuing to be questioned by federal agents.  We hear
Johnson's distinctive Texas drawl but we never see him.

	No legal counsel is provided.  No record
	made of the long questioning.

	Howdy there, Cap'n.  Thanks for taking care
	of us down in Dallas.  Lady Bird and I will
	always be grateful.

	Thank you, Mr. President.  We're doing
	our best.

	Cap'n, I know you're working like a hound
	dog down there to get this mess wrapped up,
	but I gotta tell you there's too much
	confusion coming out of Dallas now.  The
	TVs and the papers are full of rumour 'bout
	conspiracies.  Two gunmen, two rifles, the
	Russkies done it, the Cubans done it, that
	kinda loose talk, it's carin' the shit
	outta people, bubba'.  This thing could lead
	us into a war that could cost 40 million
	lives.  We got to show'em we got this thing
	under control.  No question, no doubts, for
	the good of our country ... you hear me?

	Yes, sir.

	Cap'n, you got your man, the investigation's
	over, that's what people want to hear.

The camera closes in on Oswald in the background.  He turns to an unseen
Deputy, sad.

	Now everyone will know who I am.

	By the time the sun rose the next morning,
	he is booked for murdering the President.
	The whole country - fueled by the media -
	assumes he's guilty.

In an underground police garage, we see Jack Ruby being allowed in via
an interior staircase by his police contact.  He moves towards the outer
edge of reporters, nervous.

Oswald comes out with his two guards.  We see a repeat of the
assassination in stop time ... Ruby's eyes, Oswald's ... do they
recognize each other?

	Under the guise of a patriotic nightclub
	owner out to spare Jackie Kennedy from
	having to testify at a trial, Jack Ruby
	is shown into the underground garage by
	one of his inside men on the Dallas Police
	Force, and when he's ready Oswald is brought
	out like a sacrificial lamb and nicely
	disposed of as an enemy of the people.  By
	early Sunday afternoon, the autopsy has been
	completed on him.  Who grieves for Lee Harvey
	Oswald?  Buried in a cheap grave under the
	name "Oswald"?  No one.

We see Oswald dying on the floor of the police station.  A paramedic
pushes in and starts administering artificial respiration, which only
aggravates the internal hemorrhaging.

At a Texas cemetery, Oswald's mother weeps.  Oswald is buried with a few
people present, but there are no details, no dates.  We see Marina
whisked out by agents.

CUT TO Kennedy's funeral, which, in contrast, attracts thousands of

	Within minutes false statements and press
	leaks about Lee Oswald circulate the globe.

FLASHBACK TO X: reading about it in the New Zealand Airport, and then
back to the courtroom in 1969.

	The Official Legend is created and the media
	takes it from there.  The glitter of official
	lies and the epic splendor of the thought -
	numbing funeral of J.F.K. confuse the eye
	and confound the understanding.  Hitler
	always said "the bigger the lie, the more
	people will believe it."  Lee Oswald - a
	crazed, lonely man who wanted attention and
	got it by killing a President, was only the
	first in a long line of patsies.  In later
	years Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King,
	men whose commitment to change and to peace
	would make them dangerous to men who are
	committed to war, would follow, also killed
	by such "lonely, crazed men," who remove
	our guilt by making murder a meaningless
	act of a loner.  We have all become Hamlets
	in our country - children of a slain father
	- leader whose killers still possess the
	throne.  The ghost of John F. Kennedy
	confronts us with the secret murder at the
	heart of the American dream.  He forces on
	us the appalling questions:  Of what is our
	Constitution made?  What is our citizenship,
	and more, our lives worth?  What is the
	future of a democracy where a President can
	be assassinated under conspicuously
	suspicious circumstances while the machinery
	of legal action scarcely trembles?  How
	many political murders, disguised as heart
	attacks, cancer, suicides, airplane and car
	crashes, drug overdoses will occur before
	they are exposed for what they are?

Liz watches, moved.  Susie, Al and Numa are also there for the
summation.  Even Lou Ivon has come back to support his friend.

	"Treason doth never prosper," wrote an
	English poet, "What's the reason?  For if
	it prosper, none dare call it treason."
	The generals who sent Dreyfus to Devils
	Island were among the most honorable men
	in France, the men who killed Caesar were
	among the most honorable men in Rome.  And
	the men who killed Kennedy, no doubt, were
	honorable men.  I believe we have reached
	a time in our country, similar to what life
	must've been like under Hitler in the 30's,
	except we don't realize it because Fascism
	in our country takes the benign disguise
	of liberal democracy.  There won't be such
	familiar signs as swastikas.  We won't build
	Dachaus and Auschwitzes.  We're not going
	to wake up one morning and suddenly find
	ourselves in gray uniforms goose - stepping
	off to work ... "Fascism will come," Huey
	Long once said. "in the name of anti -
	fascism" - it will come in the name of your
	security - they call it "National Security,"
	it will come with the mass media manipulating
	a clever concentration camp of the mind.
	The super state will provide you tranquility
	above the truth, the super state will make
	you believe you are living in the best of
	all possible worlds, and in order to do so
	will rewrite history as it sees fit.  George
	Orwell's Ministry of Truth warned us, "Who
	controls the past, controls the future."
	The American people have yet to see the
	Zapruder film.  Why?  The American people
	have yet to see the real photographs and
	X - rays of the autopsy.  Why?  There are
	hundreds of documents that could help
	prove this conspiracy.  Why have they been
	withheld or burned by the Government?  Each
	time my office or you the people have asked
	those questions, demanded crucial evidence,
	the answer from on high has been "national
	security."  What kind of "national security"
	do we have when we have been robbed of our
	leaders?  Who determines our "national
	security"?  What "national security" permits
	the removal of fundamental power from the
	hands of the American people and validates
	the ascendancy of invisible government in
	the United States?  That kind of "national
	security," gentlemen of the jury, is when
	it smells like it, feels like it, and looks
	like it, you call it what it is - it's
	Fascism!  I submit to you that what took
	place on November 22, 1963 was a coup d'etat.
	Its most direct and tragic result was a
	reversal of President Kennedy's commitment
	to withdraw from Vietnam.  War is the
	biggest business in America worth $80 billion
	a year.  The President was murdered by a
	conspiracy planned in advance at the highest
	levels of the United States government and
	carried out by fanatical and disciplined
	Cold Warriors in the Pentagon and CIA's
	covert operations apparatus - among them
	Clay Shaw here before you.  It was a public
	execution and it was covered up by like -
	minded individuals in the Dallas Police
	Department, the Secret Service, the FBI,
	and the White House - all the way up to and
	including J. Edgar Hoover and Lyndon
	Johnson, whom I consider accomplices after
	the fact.

The camera holds on onlookers shuffling and murmuring.  Clay Shaw
smirks, smoking his cigarette.  The very grandiosity of the charge works
in his favor.  Jim is falling apart from built - up strain and fatigue.
He looks over at Liz, gathering his spirit.

	There is a very simple way to determine if I
	am being paranoid here.
	Let's ask the two men who have profited the
	most from the assassination - your former
	President Lyndon Baines Johnson and your
	new President, Richard Nixon - to release
	51 CIA documents pertaining to Lee Oswald
	and Jack Ruby, or the secret CIA memo on
	Oswald's activities in Russia that was
	"destroyed" while being photocopied.
	All these documents are yours - the people's
	property - you pay for it, but because the
	government considers you children who might
	be too disturbed to face this reality,
	because you might lynch those involved, you
	cannot see these documents for another 75
	years.  I'm in my 40's, so I'll have shuffled
	off this mortal coil by then, but I'm already
	telling my 8 year - old son to keep himself
	physically fit so that one glorious September
	morning in 2038 he can walk into the
	National Archives and find out what the CIA
	and the FBI knew.  They may even push it
	back then.  It may become a generational
	affair, with questions passed down from
	father to son, mother to daughter, in the
	manner of the ancient runic bards.  Someday
	somewhere, someone might find out the
	damned Truth.  Or we might just build
	ourselves a new Government like the
	Declaration of Independence says we should
	do when the old one ain't working - maybe
	a little farther out West.

He approaches the jury.

	An American naturalist wrote, "a patriot
	must always be ready to defend his
	country against its government."  Well,
	I'd hate to be in your shoes today.  You
	have a lot to think about.  Going back to
	when we were children, I think most of
	us in this courtroom thought that justice
	came into being automatically, that virtue
	was its own reward, that good would triumph
	over evil.  But as we get older we know
	that this just isn't true.  "The frontier
	is where a man faces a fact."  Individual
	human beings have to create justice and this
	is not easy because truth often presents a
	threat to power and we have to fight power
	often at great risk to ourselves.  People
	like Julia Ann Mercer, S.M. Holland, Lee
	Bowers, Jean Hill, and Willie O'Keefe have
	come forward and taken that risk.
		(he produces a stack of letters)
	I have here some $8000 in these letters
	sent to my office from all over the
	country - quarters, dimes, dollar bills
	from housewives, plumbers, car salesmen,
	teachers, invalids ... These are the people
	who cannot afford to send money but do,
	these are the ones who drive the cabs, who
	nurse in the hospitals, who see their kids
	go to Vietnam.  Why?  Because they care,
	because they want to know the truth -
	because they want their country back,
	because it belongs to us the people as long
	as the people got the guts to fight for
	what they believe in!  The truth is the most
	important value we have because if the
	truth does not endure, if the Government
	murders truth, if you cannot respect the
	hearts of these people ...
		(shaking the letters)
	... then this is no longer the country in
	which we were born in and this is not the
	country I want to die in ...  And this was
	never more true than for John F. Kennedy
	whose murder was probably the most terrible
	moment in the history of our country.  You
	the people, you the jury system, in sitting
	in judgement on Clay Shaw, represent the
	hope of humanity against Government power.
	In discharging your duty, in bringing the
	first conviction in this house of cards
	against Clay Shaw, "Ask not what your
	country can do for you, but what you can
	do for your country."  Do not forget your
	young President who forfeited his life.
	Show the world this is still a government
	of the people, for the people, and by the
	people.  Nothing as long as you live will
	ever be more important.
		(he stares into the camera)
	It's up to you.

He returns to the table and sits.  The courtroom is still.

CUT TO: later in the same courtroom.  The jury files in, having reached
a verdict.  Jim, prepared, sits with his staff and Liz.  The jury
foreman enters the courtroom.

	We find Clay Shaw ... not guilty on all

There's jubilation and commotion in the Court.  Shaw stands, happily
shaking hands all over ... Members of the press run for the phones.  In
the corridor outside the courtroom, the press interviews the jury

	We believe there was a conspiracy, but
	whether Clay Shaw was a part of it is
	another kettle of fish.

The camera moves to Jim, who walks out past the banks of reporters.  TV
lights are in his face.  Liz is by his side.

	Mr. Garrison, the American media is
	reporting this as a full vindication
	of the Warren Commission, do you ...

	I think all it proves is you cannot run a
	trial even questioning the intelligence
	operations of the government in the light
	of day.

	We understand that The Times - Picayune
	will call for your resignation - unfit
	to hold office.  You've ruined Clay Shaw's
	reputation - are you going to resign?

	Hell, no.  I'm gonna run again.  And I'm
	gonna win.  Thank you very much.  If it
	takes me 30 years to nail every one of
	the assassins, then I will continue this
	investigation for 30 years.  I owe that
	not only to Jack Kennedy, but to my

He and Liz squeeze hands as they walk on.


Jim waits on the same park bench as earlier in the film, overlooking the
Mall or the Lincoln Monument ... as X walks up, a little grayer, a
little more stooped, wearing ill fitting civilian clothes.

	Well, thanks for coming.

	You didn't get that break you needed, but
	you went as far as any man could, bubba.
		(he sits next to Jim)
	What can I do for you?

	Just speculating, I guess.  How do you
	think it started?

	I think it started in the wind.  Money -
	arms, big oil, Pentagon people, contractors,
	bankers, politicians like L.B.J. were
	committed to a war in Southeast Asia.  As
	early as '61 they knew Kennedy was going
	to change things ... He was not going to
	war in Southeast Asia.  Who knows?
	Probably some boardroom or lunchroom
	somewhere - Houston, New York - hell,
	maybe Bonn, Germany ... who knows, it's
	international now.

CUT TO: a New York lunch club or executive dining room.  From the window
we have a towering view of the City.  Four men in their 50's to 70's -
old men, rich men, talk at a quiet table.  Their figures are shadowy and
we overhear their conversation obliquely, across faces flared out by sun
bouncing off the skyscraper window.

	One worried sonofabitch with a few million
	dollars turns to the others ... with a few
	million dollars ... and says something
	pretty direct like ...

	The sonofabitch is gonna get re-elected by
	a bigger vote than ever in '64.  It's gonna
	be worse than Roosevelt.  The country won't
	survive as we know it.

	I agree, Bob, it can't go on.
		(he looks to Man 3)

	... and Bobby in '68?  Something's got to
	be done.

Looks pass among them.  There's a pause, and then ...

	He's gotta go, Lou.  The election's gotta
	be stopped.

There is a breathless moment with the thought in the air.

	I talk to a lot of people.  I know I'm
	not the only one thinking this.

	What's the feeling in Washington, Jack?

FLASHBACK TO: the Pentagon in 1962.

	... so calls are made.  Down to Washington.
	All over the world.  They start talking
	about it.  A few people here, there.  Just
	conversations, nothing more ...

We see a general meeting with another general.  They talk.

	Generals, Admirals, CIA people, and probably
	some people on the inside of Kennedy's staff
	- young, brilliant Judases, ready to go to
	war in Southeast Asia ...

FLASHBACK TO: the White House, 1962.  A general talks to one of
Kennedy's staff - a bespectacled, bright young Harvard type.

	... and maybe a Vice - President getting
	separate memos from Vietnam, eager to get
	his backers the billions of dollars in
	contracts for Southeast Asia ...

In a White House office, Lyndon Johnson meets with a cabinet member, a
contractor, and two military men.

	Kennedy, like Caesar, is surrounded with
	enemies.  Something is underway but it
	has no face.  Yet everyone in the loop
	knows ...

The camera shows Washington, D.C. buildings from strange angles.  The
feeling is still, weird, angled, alien.  The buildings are twisted.

	Money is at stake.  Big money.  A hundred
	billion.  The Kennedy brothers target voting
	districts for defense dollars.  They give
	TFX fighter contracts only to the counties
	that are going to make a difference in '64.
	These people fight back.  Their way.  One
	day another call is made ...

In a Pentagon office, a man in civilian clothing is on the phone, his
back to the screen.  This is Mr. Y, X's superior officer.  Shadows
pervade the room.  An unshuttered window overlooks the Potomac River and
the White House.

	... maybe to somebody like my superior
	who's been running the "Mongoose" program
	out of Florida and who has no love for

	Bill, we're going.  We need your help.

	Everything's cellurized.  No one has said
	"he must die," there's been no vote, there's
	nothing on paper, there's no one to blame.
	It's as old as the Crucifixion: the Mafia
	firing squad, one blank, no one's guilty
	because everyone in the Power Structure who
	knows anything has a plausible deniability.
	There are no compromising connections except
	at the most secret point.  But what's
	paramount is that it must succeed.  No matter
	how many die, how much it costs, the
	perpetrators must be on the winning side and
	never subject to prosecution for anything
	by anyone.  That is a coup d'etat.

		(into phone)

	In the fall.  Probably in the south.  We
	want you to come up with a plan ...

	He's done it before.  Other countries.
	Lumumba in the Congo, Trujillo, the
	Dominican Republic, he's working on Castro.
	No big deal.  In September, Kennedy
	announces the Texas trip.  At that moment,
	second Oswalds start popping up all over
	Dallas where they have the mayor and the
	cops in their pocket.  Y flies in the
	assassins, maybe from the special camp
	we keep outside Athens, Greece - pros,
	maybe some locals, Cubans, Maria hire,
	separate teams.  Does it really matter
	who shot from what rooftop?  Part of
	the scenery.  The assassins by now are
	dead or well paid and long gone ...

	Any chance of one of them confessing

	... don't think so.  When they start to drool,
	they get rid of 'em.  These guys are proud
	of what they did.  They did Dealey Plaza!
	They took out the President of the United
	States!  That's entertainment!  And they
	served their country doing it.

		(in present)
	... and your General?

	... got promoted to two stars, but he was
	never military, you know, always CIA.
	Went to Vietnam, lost his credibility when
	we got beat over there, retired, lives
	in Virginia.  I say hello to him when I see
	him at the supermarket ...

	Ever ask him?

	You never ask a spook a question.  No point.
	He'll never give you a straight answer.
	General Y still thinks of himself of the
	handsome young warrior who loved this
	country but loved the concept of war more.

	His name?

	Does it matter?  Another technician.  But
	an interesting thing - he was there that day
	in Dealey Plaza.  You know how I know?
		(Jim shakes his head)
	That picture of yours.  The hoboes ...
	you never looked deep enough ...

FLASHBACK TO: one of the hobo pictures.  Next to the freight entrance of
the Book Depository, Y, in a dark suit, is nonchalantly walking past the
hoboes, his back to us.  The camera closes in on Y.

	I knew the man 20 years.  That's him.  The
	way he walked ... arms at his side, military,
	the stoop, the haircut, the twisted left
	hand, the large class ring.  What was he
	doing there?  If anyone had asked him, he'd
	probably say "protection" but I'll tell
	you I think he was giving some kind of
	"okay" signal to those hoboes - they're
	about to get booked and he's telling 'em
	it's gonna be okay, they're covered.  And
	in fact they were - you never heard of them

	... some story ... the whole thing.  It's
	like it never happened.

	It never did.
		(he smiles tartly)

	Just think ... just think.  What happened
	to our country ... to the world ...
	because of that murder ... Vietnam, racial
	conflict, breakdown of law, drugs, thought
	control, guilt, assassinations, secret
	government fear of the frontier ...

	I keep thinking of that day, Tuesday the
	26th, the day after they buried Kennedy,
	L.B.J. was signing the memorandum on
	Vietnam with Ambassador Lodge.

FLASHBACK TO: the White House, 1963.  Johnson sits across the shadowed
room with Lodge and others.  His Texas drawl rises and falls.  He signs
something unseen.

	Gentlemen, I want you to know I'm not going
	to let Vietnam go the way China did.  I'm
	personally committed.  I'm not going to
	take one soldier out of there 'til they
	know we mean business in Asia ...
		(he pauses)
	You just get me elected, and I'll give
	you your damned war.

	... and that was the day Vietnam started.

CUT TO: Documentary footage of - U.S. Marines arriving in full force on
the beaches of Danang, March 8, 1965 ... as another era begins and our
movie ends.

On a black screen we read:

** In 1975, VICTOR MARCHETTI, former executive assistant to the CIA's
deputy director, stated that during high - level CIA meetings during
Shaw's trial in 1969, CIA director RICHARD HELMS disclosed that CLAY
SHAW and DAVID FERRIE had worked for the Agency, and asked his
assistants to make sure Mr. Shaw received Agency help at his trial.

** In 1979, RICHARD HELMS, director of covert operations in 1963,
admitted under oath that CLAY SHAW had Agency connections.

** It is now known that in 1963, U.S. military intelligence controlled
more agents than the CIA and had almost as much money to spend.  It
surfaced in the 1970's that the Army had long been conducting
surveillance and keeping files on thousands of private citizens in the
name of national security.  The prime targets were dissident - left -
wingers of the kind Oswald appeared to be.

** CLAY SHAW died in 1974 of supposed lung cancer.  No autopsy was

** WILLIAM SULLIVAN, Assistant Director of the FBI, died in the early
morning hours of November 9,177 when he was mistaken for a deer in an
open field in New Hampshire.  Shortly before his death, Sullivan had a
preliminary hearing with the HSCA.

** GEORGE DE MOHRENSCHILDT committed suicide just hours after HSCA
investigator Gaeton Fonzi located him.

** In November, 1969 JIM GARRISON was re - elected to a third term as
District Attorney of Orleans Parish.  In June of 1971, he was arrested
by Federal Agents on charges of allowing payoffs on pinball gambling by
organized crime.  In September of 1973, after defending himself in
Federal Court, he was quickly found not guilty of charges that appear to
have been framed against him.  Less than six weeks later, he was
narrowly defeated for a fourth term as District Attorney.

** In 1978, Garrison was elected Judge of the Louisiana State Court of
Appeal in New Orleans.  He was re - elected in 1988.  To this date, he
has brought the only public prosecution in the Kennedy killing.

** ELIZABETH and Jim were divorced in 1978.  He now lives in the same
house he lived in with Elizabeth.  She lives a block away.  Their five
children are grown.

** SOUTHEAST ASIA: 58,000 American lives, 2 million Asian lives, $220
billion spent, 10 million Americans air - lifted there by commercial
aircraft, more than 5,000 helicopters lost, 6.5 million tons of bombs

** A Congressional Investigation from 1976 - 1979 found a "probable
conspiracy" in the assassination of John F. Kennedy and recommended the
Justice Department investigate further.  As of 1991, the Justice
Department has done nothing.  The files of the House Select Committee on
Assassinations are locked away until the year 2029.

The camera moves onto the mottoes chiselled in the walls of the National
Archives in Washington, D.C.:





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