Jack and Lee 9

I am an organized man, but I am also a brooding and lonely man.

I love humanity, and I hate humanity.

I am normal, and yet I am not normal.

I can fit in, and yet I cannot fit in.

There are two people living with in me – a product of a disrupted childhood.

Today I am depressed, very depressed.

I wanted great things for my life, fabulous things.

Time is running out for me.

The years are flying away.

I’ve struggled for peace and serenity.

I see others with money and love.  I have only my work.

Had I not two people  coexisting inside me I might have killed myself.

Oh, it’s easy to get out of a bad mood.

I just count my blessings.

I begin with the simple things – the easy chores of the day.

If I awaken in the morning without falling, that’s one positive.

If I brush my teeth and do a good job, that’s two positives.

If I make myself breakfast, that’s three positives.

It works every time.

I forget about my solitude.  My spirit freshens.

I’m ready for a new day at the office.

A killer needs his spirit right.

 

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Copyright 2019   Archer Crosley   All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction based upon real events.

 

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Jack and Lee 8

I love 1963.

I don’t like the modern world.

1963 was fun.

Life was simple in 1963.

America was happy.

Sure, we had problems.  There are always going to be problems.

Wars?

Of course there were wars.  Man will never be at peace.  

Are animals at peace?

War is the natural status of man.  Aggression and defense.

A world without war is a world that’s dead.

People say, well, we shouldn’t have war.

I don’t think that’s possible.  Do you?

Well, JFK must have thought so.

Ot at least we came to believe he thought so.

A world without war sounds noble, but it’s not reflective of reality.

You see, the world physically hurtles through the heavens.

Poor Earth is constantly bombarded by cosmic rays and gravitational forces.

Every day is a new event.

Every day poor Earth, our home in a lonely universe, is struck by new solar flares.

These forces change Earth and it’s geography.

Tides rise and fall differently, droughts occur, rivers change course.

This changes our food supply which then affects us.

This  is why we move, and it is that movement that causes war.

Sometimes we get a break.  It’s fun to kick back and enjoy the fruits of life.

That was 1963.

People were happy.

WWII was over.  Korea was over.  And Vietnam was a fly on an elephant’s ass.

That was about to change.

 

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Copyright 2019   Archer Crosley   All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction based upon real events.

 

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Jack and Lee 7

Was it moral to kill these guys, these two investigative reporters – Hunter and Koethe?

Maybe not.

I don’t set the objectives. My job is to achieve them.

If I were king of the world, we would not act immorally in an order to achieve our ends.

We live in an immoral world.

Yes, the universe is moral, but earth is anything of the sort.

I understand that the earth is under God’s dominion, but my bosses don’t have time for God.  

They want what they want now. God moves too slow for them.

Plus, the enemy does not believe in God and shows no inclination of reforming.

I am caught.

I do not like my world.

I handle what is before me.

I killed JFK.

I pinned it on Lee.

Lee lived.

Lee must die.

I recruited Jack to kill Lee.

Jack killed Lee.

Two reporters threatened to expose the plot I had so carefully planned.

If they expose me, I die.

They were trying to kill me.

I killed them in self defense.

Self defense is morally justifiable.

 

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Copyright 2019   Archer Crosley   All Rights Reserved.

This is a work of fiction based upon real events.

 

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Jack and Lee 6

I screwed up.

I must be a man and admit my weaknesses.

I involved too many people in killing Lee.

Humans are your biggest assets and your biggest variables.

You need people, but, man, they don’t always get the big picture.  Nor can they.  If they did, they’d know too much.

I needed George to be Jack’s alibi.  George had to be there at the apartment when Jack left.

My goal was to create the act of spontaneity.

Jack wakes up like any other morning, reads about JFKs funeral, becomes mildly upset, eats breakfast, gets the call from Little Lynn, grabs his cash and gun, heads down to Western Union, sends the money order to Little Lynn, walks down Main Street to the police station ramp.

And, well, you know the rest.

Too bad it didn’t happen that way.

Of course Jack was already in the garage before 10 AM.  Isn’t that obvious?

We didn’t know when Lee was coming down from the third floor.  Do you think we’re mind readers?

For the effect to work a) Jack has to be in the garage and b) the assistants, George and Little  Lynn, have to say their lines.

Yes, of course, I used assistants to pull the trick off.

Do you think Harry Houdini did every trick by himself?

No way.

For the uninitiated, George is George Senator, Jack’s roommate. He was in the apartment when Jack woke up and when Jack got the call from Little Lynn.

Little Lynn is Karen Bennett – a stripper at Jack’s club.  She was over in Fort Worth that morning.  She had called Jack the night before to tell him that he needed him to send her money.  She called again on Sunday, the day Lee was transported, to tell him again.

I only needed them to lie a little and be vague.

Technically they didn’t lie.  Read their testimony a little more closely.

On the whole I thought they both did their jobs well enough.  That wasn’t the problem.

The problem is that I can’t tell them the whole caper; I can’t even tell Jack the whole caper.

So if I can’t tell Jack, then Jack can’t tell George or Little Lynn.

That presents a problem when someone unexpected pops into the caper.

Unexpected people are unpleasant variables.

The variables in this equation were Bill Hunter and Jim Koethe – two investigative reporters who managed to find their way into Jack’s apartment the night Jack killed Lee.

I’m still not precisely sure what they found that night. I think it was more what they suspected that wasn’t right.  After all, these guys were experienced reporters.

I think they became suspicious of George.

George must have conveyed complicity in his body language.

The body doesn’t lie.

They knew George was lying about Jack’s whereabouts that day.

Or maybe they asked why Jack would have a copy of that morning’s Dallas Times Herald under his bed when George testified that they didn’t get a paper delivered? Hell, maybe Jack was out late and picked up an early edition at 3 AM. Jack was not exactly Ben Franklin’s role model for success. He was late to bed, late to rise.

At any rate, they were reporters, and good ones too. I couldn’t have them writing articles and books this early into the assassination.

So I took care of them.

Okay, upon looking at things now, years later, maybe I was a little hasty.

 

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Copyright 2019   Archer Crosley   All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction based upon real events.

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Jack and Lee 5

I worked harder on killing Lee than I did on the JFK and Tippit killing combined.

Not really, but it seemed like I did.

I guess it seemed more difficult because I had to connive it at the last moment.

Connive it, ha ha.

I love the way Dean talks.

That would be Dean Andrews.

He was right of course.  Lee couldn’t have connived the killing of Kennedy.

You do have to practice at things.

And not just for shooting at someone.

You have to practice planning things.

And that’s what I do; that’s my unofficial job at the CIA.

I’m a conniver, ha ha.

That’s why I was able to connive Lee’s murder on the fly.

You see, Lee was supposed to die at the Texas Theater.

But he outsmarted me.

I expected him to run and get gunned down by the cops, but he was smarter than I gave him credit for.

That was my mistake.

He raised his hands and said: “I am not resisting arrest,” or something to that effect.

That’s when Nick McDonald clocked him over his left eye.  That’s how Lee got the mouse.

I guess Nick interpreted Lee raising his hands as an aggressive move.

At any rate, when they both fell down into the chair and the melee ensued, it was difficult to justify killing him.

So he lived, and that presented a problem for me.

I had to shift gears damn quick and work double time to fix what shouldn’t be broken.

Now, how was I going to kill him?

 


 

Dean Andrews Testimony before the Warren Commission

 

Mr. LIEBELER – Do you mean to suggest by that statement that you have considerable doubt in your mind that Oswald killed the President? 

Mr. ANDREWS – I know good and well he did not. With that weapon, he couldn’t have been capable of making three controlled shots in that short time. 

Mr. LIEBELER – You are basing your opinion on reports that you have received over news media as to how many shots were fired in what period of time; is that correct? 

Mr. ANDREWS – I am basing my opinion on five years as an ordnance man in the Navy. You can lean into those things, and with throwing the bolts–if I couldn’t do it myself, 8 hours a day, doing this for a living, constantly on the range, I know this civilian couldn’t do it. He might have been a sharp marksman at one time, but if you don’t lean into that rifle and don’t squeeze and control consistently, your brain can tell you how to do it, but you don’t have the capability. 

Mr. LIEBELER – You have used a pronoun in this last series of statements, the pronoun “it.” You are making certain assumptions as to what actually happened, or you have a certain notion in your mind as to what happened based on material you read in the newspaper? 

Mr. ANDREWS – It doesn’t make any difference. What you have to do is lean into a weapon, and, to fire three shots controlled with accuracy, this boy couldn’t do it. Forget the President. 

Mr. LIEBELER – You base that judgment on the fact that, in your own experience, it is difficult to do that sort of thing? 

Mr. ANDREWS – You have to stay with it. You just don’t pick up a rifle or a pistol or whatever weapon you are using and stay proficient with it. You have to know what you are doing. You have to be a conniver. This boy could have connived the deal, but I think he is a patsy. Somebody else pulled the trigger. 

Mr. LIEBELER – However, as we have indicated, it is your opinion. You don’t have any evidence other than what you have already told us about your surmise and opinions about the rifle on which to base that statement; is that correct? If you do, I want to know what it is. 

Mr. ANDREWS – If I did, I would give it to you. It’s just taking the 5 years and thinking about it a bit. I have fired as much as 40,000 rounds of ammo a day for 7 days a week. You get pretty good with it as long as you keep firing. Then I have gone back after 2 weeks. I used to be able to take a shotgun, go on a skeet, and pop 100 out of 100. After 2 weeks, I could only pop 60 of them. I would have to start shooting again, same way with the rifle and machine guns. Every other person I knew, same thing happened to them. You just have to stay at it. 

 

 

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Copyright 2019   Archer Crosley   All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction based upon real events.

 

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Jack and Lee 4

Ruby RouteEvery step of the way in this caper has to be thought out and questioned assiduously.

I have to think ten ways at once.

It’s a giant Sudoku puzzle, baby.

What are the ramifications of each decision?

Assiduously. Assidus.  Asidere.  Ad-sidere.

Ad means next to.  Sidere means to sit.

Assiduously means to sit next to.

I need to know what words meant to the ancients who invented our words.

Knowing what they thought gets me closer to the truth. It makes me better at my job.

I become more assiduous when I sit closer to my work.

In the case of Jack Ruby, I needed to think out how I was going to signal him so that he could get there in time.

I could put him down at the Western Union office only 300 feet from the Dallas Police Department, but how do I choreograph the event?

Do I hang out near Captain Fritz’s office and telephone Jack just before the move?  Do I wait in the police garage and wait until the word comes down that Lee is to be moved?  If I wait near Captain Fritz’s office until the move, I have to get down to the side door by the alley to let Jack in.   Will I have the time?

Should I use an assistant?  No, that’s one more variable in the equation – one more person that can talk.

How about magic?

What would Harry do?  Harry Houdini, of course.

Suppose I position Jack near the green car well before Lee arrives, clear the vehicle, then go to the Western Union office posing as Jack?

These are the questions that keep me up at night.

It’s no wonder I don’t have a life.

 

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Copyright 2019   Archer Crosley   All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction based upon real events.

 

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Jack and Lee 3

One of the problems I had in planning this assassination was my minimal brain dysfunction. It takes me a long time to get things done.

I am very easily distracted.

Now, you would think this would disqualify me for planning an assassination, but it doesn’t.

You see, you have to take the good with the bad.

It’s my minimal brain dysfunction that allows me to integrate with regular people like Jack and Lee.

If I was well balanced and perfect, no regular Joe would accept me as a regular person. And you need regular people to pull off an assassination.

Who is going to kill JFK? Somebody from the University Club? Forget it.

Just today I got thrown off on a tangent. I became preoccupied with free trade. What does free trade have to do with my job?

Absolutely nothing.

Yet absolutely everything.

I work for the CIA, my friend.

Here is what I wrote.

Tariffs

There are need of vast tariffs everywhere in the world.

The only people free trade benefits are the wealthy who can’t be satisfied with a little money.

They need to conquer the world.

Fuck them.

They make life miserable for the rest of us.

They relentlessly consume, absorb and grow fat.

Market share is their currency

Growth for the sake of growth.

Quality only if it’s absolutely necessary.

If there were a parallel world circling earth they would need to conquer that also.

One world would not be enough.

They make me sick.

What’s so wrong with owning a small shop?

Whats so wrong with making a few people happy?

“No way to that,” sing the Fat Pigs.

These fuckers need it all.

They consume it all

In the name of Democracy.

Fuck Democracy.

Democracy is a dictator controlled by the Fat Pigs.

Free Trade is a code word for exploitation where in the dark recesses of the world they the Fat Pigs can work their slaves for 18 hours per day without bathroom breaks uninhibited by the morass of regulations the First World imposes upon them.

They pay their dictator to do so.

That’s what free trade is all about.

Fuck free trade.

Praise God for tariffs.

Praise God Almighty for tariffs.

For tariffs set me free.

Tariffs are a castle that protects me from my oppressor.

Tariffs are a barrier that keeps me safe and sound at night.

Tariffs protect my family.

Tariffs provide a healthy home for my kids.

I love tarrifs.

I imbibe tariffs.

I embrace tariffs.

I have sex with tariffs.

Tariffs have sex with me.

Tariffs and I are in looooooooove.

Well, all I can say is that there is a lot of stress in planning an assassination.

Stress will always find an outlet.

 

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Copyright 2019   Archer Crosley   All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction based upon real events.

 

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