All language subtitles for JFK.1991.2160p.4K.BluRay.x265.10bit.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX]

But we can no longer risk

emergency improvisation
of national defense.

We have been compelled to create

a permanent armaments industry

of vast proportions.

Added to this...

three and a half million men and women

are directly engaged

in the defense establishment.

We annually spend on military
security alone...

- January 1961.

President Dwight D. Eisenhower's
Farewell Address to the nation.

Now this 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 state house,

every office of the federal government.

- We must guard against the acquisition

of unwarranted influence,

whether sought or unsought,

by the military-industrial complex.

We must never let the weight

of this combination

endanger our liberties,

or democratic processes.

November, 1960.

Senator John Fitzgerald 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.

Alongside his beautiful

and elegant wife, Jacqueline Bouvier,

Kennedy is the symbol

of the new freedom of the 1960s,

signifying change and upheaval

to the American public.

That all men are created equal.

Every degree of mind and spirit

that I possess...

will be devoted to the cause of
freedom around the world.

Today, the proudest boast is...

"Ich bin ein Berliner!"

He inherits a secret war

- against the communist Castro dictatorship

in Cuba, a war run by the CIA

and angry Cuban exiles.

Castro is a successful revolutionary,

frightening to American business interests

in Latin America.

This war culminates

in the disastrous Bay of Pigs invasion

in April 1961,

when Kennedy refuses to provide air cover

for the exiled Cuban brigade.

- 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.

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.

Soviet ships with more missiles

sail towards the island,

but at the last moment,

they turn back.

- The world breathes with relief.

In Washington, rumors abound that JFK

has cut a secret deal

with Russian Premier Khrushchev

- ...no wish to war with Soviet Union...
- not to invade Cuba

in return for a Russian withdrawal

of missiles.

Suspicions abound

that Kennedy is soft on communism.

Kennedy also finds himself embroiled

in Laos and Vietnam.

We've got our difficulties there,

quite obviously.

Unless a greater effort is made
by the government,

to win popular support, I don't think that

the war can be won out there.

And the final analysis...

it's their war.

They're the ones who have to win it
or lose it.

Early that fateful summer,

Kennedy speaks of his new vision

at the American University in Washington.

What kind of a peace do I mean?

And what kind of a peace
do we seek?

Not a Pax Americana,

enforced on the world

by American weapons of war.

We must reexamine our own attitudes

towards the Soviet Union.

Our most basic, common link

is that we all inhabit

this small planet.

We all breathe the same air.

We all cherish our children's futures.

And we are all mortal.

You fucking asshole!

You come back here!

Don't leave me here!

They're going up to Dallas.

Friday.

They're gonna...kill...Kennedy.

Call somebody...

And stop them.

These are serious fucking guys!

She's high as a kite
on something.

- Been that way since they brought her in.
- Please help!

Please!

In Dallas, Texas,

three shots were fired

at President Kennedy's motorcade

in Downtown Dallas.

The first reports say that

President Kennedy has been
seriously wounded

by this shooting.

What's wrong, Lou?

Boss,
the president's been shot.

In Dallas. Five minutes ago.

Oh, no.

How bad?

There's no word yet,

but they think it's in the head.

Come on.

Napoleon's has a TV set.

Apparently, three bullets were found.

Governor Connally also appeared to
have been hit.

The President was rushed
by 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,
damnit.

Come on, Jack.
Pull through.

From Dallas, Texas.

The flash, apparently official.

President Kennedy died

- at 1:00 p.m. Central Standard Time.

2:00 Eastern Standard Time.

Some 38 minutes ago.

Vice President Lyndon Johnson

has left the hospital.

Presumably, he will be taking
the oath of office shortly

and become the 36th President
of the United States.

He did so much for this country,

for colored people.

Why?

Why?

He's dirty!

Goodbye,
you sorry bastard!

Die!

- Hey, shut the fuck up!

God, I'm ashamed to be an
American today.

The President of the United States...

is dead.

I have just talked to Father
Oscar Hubert,

of the Holy Trinity
Catholic Church.

He and another priest
tell me that the pair of men

had just administered
the last rites

to President Kennedy.

Shortly after 12:30,

as the president's motorcade
near the freeway entrance

near the park in the westside
of Downtown Dallas,

those terrible shots rang out.

The president is dead.

Bullets were coming up
over our heads...

from that fence up on
the knoll.

- I seen his face when it hit. He just...

His ear blew off...

and he turns this real white.

He kind of flopped over
on his stomach...

And um...

with his foot sticking out.

Excuse me.

None of us thought it could
happen in America

- or any place else, and yet...

All this blubbering over that no-count
son of a bitch.

They're bawling
like they knew the man.

Makes me want to puke.

For God's sake,
chief, the president was shot.

A bullshit president.

I don't see anybody crying
for all those thousands of Cubans

that bastard condemned to death
and torture at Bay of Pigs.

Goddamn peace treaties.

I heard shots from over there.

Well, I heard some shots
from right over there.

- How many shots?
- Uh, I can't...

That's what happens when
you let the niggers vote.

They get together with the Jews
and the Catholics...

and elect an Irish bleeding heart.

Uh, chief, maybe you had a little
too much to drink.

Bullshit.

Here's to the New Frontier.

Camelot in smithereens.

I'll drink to that.

A flash bulletin.

Dallas police have just announced
that they have a suspect

in the killing of a Dallas police officer,
a J. D. Tippit,

who was shot at 1:15 in Oak Cliff.

That's a suburb of Dallas.

Police are saying there could be
a tie-in, here,

- to the murder of the president.

The suspect, identified as
Lee Harvey Oswald,

was arrested by more than
a dozen police officers,

after a short scuffle at the Texas
movie theater in Oak CIiff.

Officer Tippit
was killed apparently...

...by a revolver,
which was found on Oswald.

There is apparently...

They oughta just shoot
the bastard!

They should give him a medal
for shooting Kennedy!

- Oswald!

Oswald,
did you fire that rifle?

No, sir, I didn't.

I don't know what I am
charged with,

- but I emphatically deny these charges.

Well, the kid must've gone
nuts, right?

- I said, Oswald must've flipped.
- Yeah.

- Right?
- Yeah.

Just went ahead and did this crazy thing
before anybody could stop him.

I think I'll get out of here.
I've got to get home, chief.

What the hell
are you talking about?

Yeah,
who would ever have thought

that goofy Oswald kid would pull a stunt
like an assassination.

Just goes to show, you never can know
about some people.

- Am I right, Jack?
- Yeah.

- Am I right, Jack?
- Yeah.

- Well, bless my soul.
- Huh?

Yeah, all these years I thought
you were on my team.

Sometimes, I don't know.
Are you kidding?

I couldn't be more serious,
Jack.

The little red eyes of yours have me
wondering about your loyalty.

Look at that.
Look at that lightning.

- Who's been going through my files?
- Huh?

You've been going through my files,
haven't you?

You little weasel.

You're starting to get paranoid.

You really are!

You were going through
all my files.

You're a goddamn spy.

Why the hell would I want to look
through your files, chief?

I've seen enough here this summer
already to write a book.

I always lock my files!

You're the only one here today.

- What do you mean, you bastard?
- Huh?

What do you mean,
you're going to write a book?

What? No, I mean,
well, you know what I mean.

I've seen a lot of strange things here.

Strange people.

You didn't see a goddamn thing!

- Goddamn you.

You didn't see a goddamn thing,

you hear me,
you little weasel?

- You didn't see a goddamn thing!

Full name is Lee Harvey Oswald.

O-S-W-A-L-D.

- Stand back, please.
- Did you shoot the president?

I didn't shoot anybody, no, sir.

They have taken me in
because of the fact

I have lived in the Soviet Union.

I'm just a patsy!

God,
he sure looks like a creep.

I protested at that time I was
not allowed legal representation...

during that very short and sweet
hearing...

I really don't know
what this situation is about.

Nobody has told me anything,
except that I am accused of

murdering a policeman.

I know nothing more than that,
and I do request

someone to come forward to give me
legal assistance.

Were you ever in
the Free Cuba movement

or whatever that it's called?

That's the Fair Play for
Cuba Committee.

What did you do in Russia?

And what happened to your eye?

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

- A policeman hit me.

Gives me the willies.

Okay, come on, sugarplums,
it's past your bedtimes.

Oh, Mattie, honey.

- Get a hold of yourself.

Why, Mr. Jim?

He was a fine man.

Lee Harvey Oswald...

- A fine man.
- After a stint in the marines,

he apparently became fascinated

by communism.

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 there in a brawl

with anti-Castro Cuban exiles.

And apparently, Bob,
Oswald has been passing out...

- Hello, Lou?

Yeah, sorry to disturb you this late.

It's all right, I'm watching it, too.

Yeah, a matter of routine,

but we better get on this Oswald
connection to New Orleans right away.

- Mm-hmm.
- I want you to check out his record.

Find any friends or associates
from last summer.

Let's meet with the senior assistants
and investigators

day after tomorrow, all right?

That'd be on Sunday?

Sunday, yeah, at 11:00.

- All right.
- All right. Thanks, Lou.

I would say that, without any doubt,

he is the killer.

The law says beyond a reasonable doubt

and to a moral certainty.

I thought it was a motorcycle backfire,

and I looked over to my left

and a second shot hit him in the face.

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 of 1963.

This is the same rifle that was used

to assassinate the president.

That ties it up.

He did what?

Another nut.

Jesus Christ!
Anybody can get a rifle in Texas.

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 summer.

I know David.

Strange character.

Yeah,
he's been in trouble before.

Used to be a hot-shot pilot
for Eastern Airlines

but got canned after an alleged
homosexual incident

- with a 14 year old.
- These backyard photos

were found yesterday among
Oswald's possessions.

- Get Kohiman.

He told somebody the Texas trip.

Yesterday,
mentioned to somebody about Ferrie.

Find it out.

Did he shoot the president, Marina?

He no shoot anyone.

He good-- good man.
Good husband.

So it seems David Ferrie drove off on
Friday afternoon for Texas.

A source told Kohlman he might have been
a getaway pilot for Oswald.

What getaway pilot?

Hold on.
Hold your horses.

What kind of source?

The anonymous kind, chief.

I think I remember this guy Ferrie,

speaking at a meeting of some
veterans group,

ranting against Castro.

Extreme sort of stuff.

Susie, back up.

They're bringing him out.

- Numa, turn it up.
- Yeah.

- Here he comes!

Come on, here he comes!
Get that stuff!

Come on, let's get him!

Is there anything you want
to say in your defense?

Oswald!

What happened?

He's been shot!
- He shot him!

- He's been shot!

He shot him on TV! Just shot him!

There's a man with a gun!

- There's absolute panic!
- It's the guy in the hat.

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

Well, no trial now.

Looks like somebody just saved the
Dallas DA a pile of work.

Pandemonium has broken loose
here in the basement of Dallas Police...

Lou.

Lou, let's get David Ferrie in here
anyway.

It's wrong.

This is crazy!

Yesterday, in the midst of sorrow,

the business of government went on.

The President meeting with
Henry Cabot Lodge,

our ambassador to Vietnam,

and members of his cabinet.

The major subject was Vietnam,

a crisis that does not pause
for bereavement.

And from this meeting, came affirmations
that the United States

would continue its policy of aiding the
new government of Vietnam

in its war against the
communist insurgents.

Chief?

David Ferrie.

Come on in, Dave.

Thank you for coming.

You remember me,
Mr. Garrison?

I met you on Carondelet Street,
right after your election.

- I congratulated you, remember?
- How could I forget?

You make quite a first impression.

And I've heard over the years you're quite
a first-rate pilot, Dave.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Legend has it you can get in and out of
any field, no matter how small.

- Huh.
- I'm a bit of a pilot myself.

Flew grasshoppers for the field artillery
in the war.

Here, have a seat.
Make yourself comfortable.

Mind if I smoke,
Mr. Garrison?

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 was then murdered, yesterday,
by a man named Jack Ruby.

We've heard reports that Oswald spent the
summer here in New Orleans,

and we've been advised that you knew
Oswald pretty well.

I never met anybody named Oswald.

Anybody that told you that
has to be crazy.

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.

I mean, there were lots of boys in
and out, you know?

Well,
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, then.

Thanks for straightening it out
for us.

There is one other matter
that's come up, Dave.

We were told that you
took a trip to Texas

shortly after the assassination
on 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 was with

a couple of young friends 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?

Uh...

spur-of-the-moment thing.

- Storm wasn't that bad.
- I see.

And where did you drive?

Uh,
we went to Houston...

then Saturday night drove to Galveston

and stayed over there.

And then Sunday?

In the morning,
we went goose hunting.

You bag any geese on this trip?

I believe the boys got a couple.

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

Come to think of it,
they're right.

We got out there,
where the geese were,

and there were thousands of them,
all over the place.

But, uh,
you couldn't approach ‘em.

They're 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?

Well...

Yes,
I remember now.

I'm sorry, Mr. Garrison.
I got confused.

We got out near the geese,

and only then did we realize we had
forgotten our shotguns.

Stupid, right?

Uh, so, of course,
we didn't get any geese.

I see, Dave.
Well, thank you for your time.

I'm sorry that this has to end
inconveniently for you,

but I'm going to have to detain you for
further questioning by the FBI.

Why, what's wrong?

Dave, I find your story simply
not believable.

Really?

Come on.

What part?

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
Mr. Ferrie

- knew Lee Harvey Oswald,

or 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.
- 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 go.

They must know something
we don't.

So let's get on with our lives,
gentlemen.

We got plenty of
home-grown crimes

- to prosecute.
- President Johnson

- has announced the creation of

- a Blue Ribbon Presidential Commission

- to probe the events in Dallas.
- Goodnight.

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 the Chase
Manhattan Bank...

Fucking out of control.

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 had
painted on it?

"Love Child."

Oh, it's a mess down there,
Jim.

We've bitten off more Vietnam than we can
possibly chew.

‘Course it figures with that polecat
Lyndon in the White House.

You know, I sometimes think things
have gone downhill

since John Kennedy died,
Senator.

Oh, don't get me started on that.

Those Warren Commission fellas were
picking gnat shit out of pepper.

Nobody's gonna tell me that kid did the
shooting job he did

from that damn bookstore.

- Here you go, Senator Long.
- Oh, thank you, honey.

I thought the FBI test-fired the rifle to
see if it could be done?

Sure, three experts,
and not one of them could do it.

They're telling us that Oswald
got off three shots

with world-class precision
from a manual bolt-action rifle

in less than six seconds,

and, according to his
Marine buddies,

he got Maggie's drawers.

You know what that means?

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.

Then they got that crazy bullet
zigzagging all over the place,

so it hits Kennedy and Connally
seven times.

Ah.

One pristine bullet?

That dog don't hunt.

You know, something's always bothered me
about that from day one, too.

Legal representation.

Do you think there were other men
involved, Russell?

If I were investigating the case,

I'd round up 100 of the world's
best riflemen,

find out which ones were in Dallas
that day.

- You been duck hunting?

I think Oswald's a good,
old-fashioned decoy.

What'd he say?
"I'm just a patsy.”

You better believe it.

Jim?

Honey?

Dinner's just about ready.

Got a surprise for you tonight.

Tried something new.

Jim?

- Jim?
- What?

Dinner.

Smells good, but, honey, do you realize
that Oswald was interrogated

for 12 hours after the assassination
with no lawyer present,

and nobody--
nobody recorded a word of it?

- Huh.
- 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 says is gonna be
inadmissible in court.

Well, honey, why don't we talk about it
at the dinner table.

It's getting cold.

Jasper,
what are you doing in here?

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

Sure, it is.

Honey, if I ever handled a minor felon
like that, it'd be all over the papers.

And this is the alleged murderer of
the president!

- Do you really think so?

- Yeah. Again and again,

- credible testimony is ignored,

leads are never followed up,
its conclusions selective,

there's no index,
it's one of the sloppiest,

most disorganized investigations
I've ever seen.

You know, 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,
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.

Mattie, I'll do the dishes.
You take Eb on up.

Night, baby.

Elizabeth,
honey, your bedtime, too.

Honey,
that was three years ago.

We've all tried so hard to put it
out of our minds,

you just keep digging it up
again.

You're the DA of New Orleans.

Don't you think the Kennedy assassination
is a little bit out of your domain?

I mean all those important people
already studied it.

All right, I just can't believe a man as
intelligent as Earl Warren

ever read what was in
those volumes.

Well...

I mean,
maybe you're right.

I'll give you one hour to solve
the case,

till I can get these kids in bed,

and then you're mine,

and Mr. Kennedy will have to wait
until morning.

Daddy,
look what I drew.

Well that's something, Jasper.
What is it?

- It's a rhino in a cage.
- Mm-hmm.

- Can I stay up another hour?
- I don't think so, son.

- Aw, Papa.
- Pickle and Snapper.

My two favorite dancing partners.

- All right. Goodnight, doodle bugs.

- Goodnight.
- One hour, you hear?

- Hmm?
- Some Saturday night date you are.

Mama warned me this would happen if I
married such a serious man as you.

- Oh, she did, huh?
- Mm-hmm.

Well,
when I come up,

I want to show you how Saturday
night got invented.

All right?

I sealed off the area,

and I held off the trains until they
could be examined,

and there were some transients taken
on at least one train.

Mr. Bowers,
I believe you already talked to us

about this matter before your deposition,
is that correct?

Yes.

Now, is there anything else you told us

that I haven't asked you about
that you can think of?

Nothing that I can recall.

Witness is excused.

Well, we got a long freight
that was in there.

We pulled some people off there
and took them to the station.

Do you mean some transients?

Tramps and hoboes.

And were all those questioned?

Yes, sir, they were taken to
the station and questioned.

And?

Ask the question, ask the question.

All right, let's go back
to that Amos Euins matter.

Uh, yes, sir.

Traffic had been cut off into the area
since about 10:00,

but there were three cars that came in
during this time, from around noon

- till the time of the shooting.

The cars circled the parking lot
and left,

like they was checking the area.

And one of the drivers seemed to have
something he was holding up to his mouth.

That last car came in about seven to 10
minutes before the shooting.

It was a white Chevrolet,
four-door Impala,

muddy up to the windows.

Um...
towards the underpass,

I saw two men.

They were standing behind
a picket fence.

They were looking up towards Main
and Houston,

- following the caravan as it came down.

Uh... one of them was middle-aged,
heavyset.

The other man was younger.

There were two other men.

They were on the eastern end of
the parking lot,

- and each of them had uniforms.

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.

Goddamn.

No!

Jim?

- You all right?
- Oh, honey, it's incredible.

What?

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!
- I can't believe it.

Honey,
it's 4:30 in the morning!

I have five kids

- gonna be awake in an hour and--
- Honey, in all my years in the military,

I never knew a single man who was given
a Russian test.

Oswald was a radar operator.
He--

He'd have about as much use for--

- for Russian as a cat has for pajamas.
- These books...

have gotten to your mind,
Mr. Garrison.

And then this-- this colonel.

- He makes it sound like nothing, he says
- I wish you'd stop reading them.

- Oswald did badly on his test. He--

he got only two more Russian words
right than wrong.

- Ha! That's like me saying Touchdown here

is not very intelligent because I beat him
three games out of five

the last time we played chess.

What? Are you gonna...

stay up all night every night,
for what?

So you'll be the only man in America
that's read all 26 volumes

- of the Warren Report?
- Do I have to spell it out for you?

Lee Oswald was no ordinary soldier,
he was--

He was probably in military
intelligence.

That's why he was trained
in Russian.

- Let's go back to sleep.
- There's no accident he's in Russia.

Let's go back to sleep.

Goddammit, dear,
I've been sleeping for three years!

Morning, boys.

Ready for a walking tour?

7:30 Sunday morning.

It's not exactly fresh blood we're
sniffing here, boss.

Old stains, Bill,
but just as telling.

531 Lafayette Street.

Remember whose office this was
in '63?

Sure, Guy Banister.

Ex-FBI man.

Died couple years ago.

Banister headed the Chicago office.

When he retired,
he became a private eye here.

I used to have lunch with him.

John Birch Society,
Minutemen.

- Oh yeah, I remember him now.
- Slightly to the right of Attila the Hun.

He used to recruit college students

to infiltrate radical organizations
on campus.

Headed the Anti-Communist League
of the Caribbean.

All out of this office.

Come around here,
I want to show you something.

See that?

Now, take a look here.

544 Camp Street.

531 Lafayette Street.

Same building, right?

But with different addresses and
different entrances,

both going to the same place,

to the office upstairs.

Guess who used this address?

Lee Harvey Oswald.

Now 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.

Now these are the same leaflets they found
in his garage in Dallas.

What's this?

What the hell is this doing on
this piece of paper?

After the arrest, 544 Camp Street

never appeared on the pamphlets again.

Asshole.

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 their anti-Castro
crusade.

When they heard he was now
pro-Castro...

well, they paid him a visit.

What is this Fidel shit?

You lied to me, you hypocrite!

Liar!
Son of a bitch!

People,
do not take this paper.

This is communist propaganda.

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

Come on, you pinko shit.

Go back to Moscow, communist!

- There was no real fight,

and the arresting lieutenant later said
he felt it was a staged incident.

- Break it up!

In jail, Oswald has a private session

with Special Agent John Quigley
of the FBI.

Oswald is released,

and Quigley destroys his notes from
the interview.

The arrest gets him a lot of publicity
and as a result...

Oswald appears on a local
TV debate.

But you-- you are a communist,
are you not?

Uh, no,
Mr. Bringuier.

Uh, I am not a communist.

I'm a Marxist-Leninist.

You are not a communist,
but you are a Marxist-Leninist?

What is the difference?

Now, here's another one for you.

What would you say
if I told you...

Lee Oswald was trained in the Russian
language when he was a Marine?

I'd say he was probably getting
intelligence training.

Well, Lou,
you were in the Marines.

Who would be running
that training?

Office of Naval Intelligence.

Take a look 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.

And what's that little saying
they have?

"Once ONI, always ONL."

Well, he likes working near
his old pals.

Bill...

Lou, we are standing in the heart of the
United States government's

intelligence community
in New Orleans.

That's the FBI there, all right?
That's the CIA.

That's the Secret Service.

That's the ONI.

Now, doesn't this seem to you...

a rather strange place for a communist
to spend his spare time?

What you driving at, boss?

We're going back into the case,
Lou.

Murder of the president.

Good Lord,
wake me up, I must be dreaming.

No, you're awake,
Bill, and I'm deadly serious.

We're going to start by tracking down your
anonymous source

from three years ago.

Now how'd you find out David Ferrie drove
to Texas that day?

Hell, I can't remember last night,

let alone three years ago,
boss.

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.

Now don't tell me you don't
remember that,

all right,
‘cause you called our office.

You called our office from your
hospital bed,

and you were hopping mad
about it.

Now, here's my problem.

You told me you and Guy were good
friends for a long time.

More than 10 years.

- And he never hit you before?
- No, he never touched me.

Yet on November 22nd, 1963,

- the day of the president's murder,

- the police report says...

Says he pistol-whipped you with a
.357 Magnum.

It also says you had an argument about
the phone bill.

- Here, take a look at it.

Well, does a simple argument over a
phone bill sound like

a believable explanation
to you?

There's more to it than that.

How much more?

I don't think I should talk about it.

Well, I'd ask Guy,
we were friendly, you know.

Heart attack, wasn't it?

You buy what you read in
the papers.

You have other information?

- I didn't say that.
- You have other information?

I didn't say that. All I know is that
he died suddenly.

Just before the Warren Report
came out.

Why did Guy beat you,
Jack?

You didn't see a goddamn thing!
You didn't see a goddamn thing!

You're the only one in the place!

You didn't see a goddamn thing!

Oh, hell. I guess since Guy's dead,
it don't matter no more.

It was about all those...

people that was hanging around the office
that summer.

See, I was never part of the operation,
you know.

I was just there taking care of their
private eye work,

you know,
as it came in for Guy.

Not much did,
but that's why I was there.

It was a nuthouse.

All the Cubans coming and going.

I mean, Christ,
they all looked the same to me.

You gonna play with this rifle or you
gonna pack it? Come on.

Dave Ferrie.

You know about him?

- Yeah, we know Dave. Was he there?
- Mmm.

Christ, he practically lived there.

Don't fuck this one up.

See, the whole thing it was...

the whole cloak and dagger stuff,
you know.

They called it
"Operation Mongoose."

Whole idea was they were gonna train
these Cuban exiles, you know,

- for another invasion of Cuba.
- Mm-hmm.

Why, hell, Banister's office,

that was part of the supply line,
you know,

from Dallas through New Orleans
to Miami.

- They were stockpiling arms, explosives.

All this right under the noses of
the intelligence community

- in Lafayette Square?
- Yeah, oh yeah.

Everybody knew everybody,
you know,

they were all part of
the network.

They were all working for
the CIA!

You know, pilots,
and them Black Operators,

and the-- the civilians,
and military.

Hell, everybody in those days was
running guns somewhere.

Fort Jefferson, Bayou Bluff,
Morgan City, you name it.

Oh, McAllen, Texas,
yeah, big gun-running operation.

Banister. Now, tell-- where--
Where does he fit in all this?

He was running his camp up north
of Lake Pontchartrain.

You know, Ferrie was doing a lot
of the training.

- They had a shooting range.

Lot of tropical territory, you know,
like you got in Cuba.

- Some Americans were trained there, too.

- A few. Nazi types, mercenaries.

Ferrie, though,
Jesus, he was the craziest.

Anyway,
late summer, the whole--

the party was over.

‘Cause Kennedy didn't want another one
of them Bay of Pigs, so he...

- he told the FBI, "Shut up the camps,”

you know, and confiscate the napalm,
C-4, and the stuff like that.

So I think that the G-men,

they were just going through the motions
for Washington.

See, their hearts were still with their
old FBI buddy Banister.

Oswald?

Yeah.

- Yeah, what?
- He was there, too. He was there.

He was there,
sometimes meeting with Banister.

Give me an allowance, you know,
because I got expenses...

With the door shut.

Other times...

you know,
shooting the bull with Ferrie,

whatever,
but he was there, all right.

Anything more specific,
Jack?

It's important.

One time the secretary got upset,
I remember.

I can't believe it,
Mr. Banister.

Lee Oswald is down on Canal Street

handing out communist leaflets
supporting Castro.

It's okay, Delphine.

He's with us, it's okay.

Was anyone else involved at
Banister's level?

Oh, yeah. One guy, I don't know.

Big, white hair.

I saw him come in the office once,

but he looked out of place.

You know,
like a society guy.

And I can't remember his name,
but Oswald was with him.

But he had something to do with money
‘cause Banister, you know,

he never kissed anybody's ass--

Ooh, he kissed his.

I don't... uh...

Clay something.

Yeah.
That was his name, Clay.

- Clay.
- Bertrand?

- Bertrand, yeah! Yeah, that--
- Clay Bertrand.

- Clay Bertrand.
- Well, I don't know.

I don't know.

- Uh... maybe not. I got to go.
- No, that's right. Clay Bertrand.

- No, no. That's right.
- No, I got to go.

He was in the Warren Report.
He got Oswald a lawyer.

- Was Kennedy ever discussed, Jack?
- I don't know.

- The assassination, Jack?
- No.

Never. Not with me.

- Look, I've-- I got to go.
- Hold on.

- That's all I'm gonna say.
- Hold on, Jack.

- I've said enough.
- Hold on. What's the problem?

- What's the problem?
- What's the problem?

Do I have to spell it out for you,
Mr. Garrison?

Nobody knows what we're talking
about, here, Jack.

Oh, you are so naive.

When'd you first do business
with this Bertrand?

Pipe the bimbo in red.

Mm-hmm. Lordy.

Yeah, she's cute all right,

- but not half as cute as you, Deano.

Thank you.

You should try a legitimate line
of business.

Why are you dancing on my head for,
my man?

We been thicker than molasses pie
since law school.

‘Cause you keep conning me, Dean,
I read your testimony

- to the Warren Commission--
- There you go again!

- Grain of salt!
- You tell them the day after

- Two sides to every coin!
- the assassination,

you're called on the phone by this
Clay Bertrand

and asked to fly to Dallas and be
Lee Oswald's lawyer.

Right.

That's pretty important,
Dean.

You also told the FBI that,
when you met him,

he's six foot two,

then you tell the Commission
he's five foot eight.

Now how the hell does a man
shrink like that, Dean?

They put the heat on,
my man, just like you're doing.

I gave them anything that popped in
my cabeza.

Truth is,
I never met the dude.

Oh, wonderful.
One likes friends that have friends.

Indeed.

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
some cases.

So one day he's on the phone,

talking to me about going to Dallas,
repping Oswald.

Did you ever speak to Oswald
in Dallas?

Hell, no.

Like I told that Bertrand cat
right off--

Cashew piece?

This ain't my scene, man.

I deal in muni court.
I'm a hack in nigger town.

Then how'd the hell did your name get in
the Warren Commission, Dean?

Like I told to the Washington boys,

Bertrand called that summer

and asked me to help the kid upgrade
his Marine discharge.

Well, I was led to believe that, uh,

Mr. Bertrand said that he would
take care of any--

Oh, that's fine.

Hello,
to whom am I speaking?

I'm Clay Bertrand.
Whatever they owe, I guarantee.

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 Christ's sake.

How the fuck all those people could keep
a secret like that, I don't know.

It was Oswald.

- He was a fruitcake, you know.
- I think we're having

- Hated this country.
- a communication problem, Dean.

I know you know who Clay
Bertrand is, all right?

Now stop eating that damn crabmeat
a minute and listen.

I'm aware of our friendship...

but I want you to know I'm gonna call you
in front of the grand jury.

And you lie to the grand jury as
you've been lying to me,

I'm gonna charge you
with perjury.

All right, I took nine judges on right
here in New Orleans, Deano.

I beat 'em all.

So am I communicating with you?

Is this off the record,
Daddy-0?

Good.

In that case,
let me sum it up for you real quick.

If I answer that question you
keep asking...

if I give you the name of the
big enchilada, you know...

then it's "bon voyage, Deano."

I mean like permanent.

I mean like a bullet in my head,
you dig?

You're a mouse fighting a gorilla.

Kennedy is as dead as that crabmeat.

The government's still breathing.

- You wanna line up with a dead man?
- 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.

Now, do you dig me?

- You're as crazy as your mama.

Goes to show it's in the genes.

You have any idea what you're getting
yourself into, Daddy-o0?

The government's gonna jump all over
your head, Jimbo,

and go "cock-a-doodle-doo."

Good day to you, sir.

District Attorney
Garrison to see Prisoner 5388,

Ward Block 237B.

We don't need no gates out there
with that swamp.

Many of 'em gone in there,
ain't none of 'em come out.

Hey, Willie!

O'Keefe!

You got visitors here.

You don't give ‘em no trouble now,
you hear me boy?

- How you doing, Mr. Broussard?
- Hey, let's go, Willie.

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

I ain't got nothin' but time,
Mr. Garrison.

Minutes, hours, days, years of 'em.

Time just stands still here,

like a snake sunnin' itself on 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.

Did he pay you for this?

Twenty dollars each time.
Hell, ain't no secret.

That's why I'm in here for.

Anything else unusual about him
you'd be able

- to describe in a court of law?

I remember he had some kinda
thing wrong with his leg.

He'd limp.
You know, don't get me wrong,

he's not one of those "limp wrists."

He's a butch John, I mean, you'd meet him
on the street, you'd never snap.

- You could play poker with him,

go fishing with the man,

you'd never snap in a million years.

One night we was over at Dave Ferrie's
place having a party.

It was sometime late in the
summer of '63.

There was about nine or 10
people there. Cubans.

You know, friends of Dave, been doing
some stuff in the bush with him.

Place was a mess, man.
Dave's mind was a mess.

Has all these mice cages all over ‘cause
he's working on this cure for cancer.

- Viva Cuba libre!

Dave's smart, though,
he's sharp.

Speaks five languages.

He knows philosophy, medicine,
military history, politics.

Said he wanted to be a priest but...

they defrocked him ‘cause
he was queer.

And that's where you met Oswald for
the first time?

- Yeah, strange guy.

Dave introduced him as...

Willie, why don't you say hello to
Leon Oswald.

Hey, how you doing, man?

What the fuck is he doing here?

Fuck you, motherfucker!

Okay, okay, come on, come on,
come on.

- Leon's in a bad mood.

Don't get excited,
he's all right.

Would you say that this "Leon" was
actually Lee Harvey Oswald?

Fuck yeah!

Hey, man,
I got no reason to lie to you.

I'm already in jail.

Go on, Willie.

Finally,
they got outta there,

and I found myself alone
with Dave

and this Leon,

two of the Cubans,

and this guy Bertrand.

Kennedy.

- Kennedy.
- Dave pulled out these clippings

- Kennedy, fuckin' Kennedy!
- he'd been carrying around, you know...

- He fucked us
- He'd been obsessed with Castro

- in '61 and '62
- and Kennedy for months.

- and he's fuckin' us now!
- He started in again.

Fuckin' little asswipe
closed down the camps,

took all our C-4,

took 10,000 fuckin' rounds,
3,000 pounds of gunpowder,

all our fuckin' weapons!

I tell ya...

Shit, you wanna free Cuba?

You got to whack out the
fuckin' Beard.

Yeah, well,
that faggot Kennedy won't let us.

Our hands are empty,
how can we kill him?

It's a real problem getting at him,
Castro has informers on every block.

Bullshit.
They got all kinds of new stuff.

I can show you dozens of fuckin' poisons.
Just stick it in his food.

He'd die in three days.

No trace!

We can put something in his beard,
make his beard fall out.

He'll look fuckin' ridiculous without
his beard.

The real problem is...
is that fucking Kennedy.

He's doing all kinds of deals...

...Khrushchev. Licking his ass.

An inspired act of God should
happen here, okay?

And put a Texan in the
White House!

Then the Cubans left.

Dave was drunk now,
really drunk.

- He started in on Kennedy again.

‘Cause I will kill.

Right in the White House,
I'll stab him right in his fuckin' heart!

- Somebody got to get rid of this fucker.

Come on, Dave.

You ain't never gonna get that
son of a bitch.

No? It won't be long,
mark my words.

- That fucker'll get what's coming to him.

It can be blamed on Castro.

The whole country'll want to
invade Cuba.

All we got to do is get Kennedy in
the open.

David, David, always some harebrained
scheme or another.

Oh!

What have we here?
Let's have some more champagne.

- Shall we?

What about the Secret Service,
the cops?

If it's planned right,
it's no problem.

- Look how close they got with de Gaulle.

Eisenhower was always
riding around in an open top.

We need three mechanics in three
different locations.

An office building with a
high-powered rifle.

Triangulation of crossfire,
that's the key.

- That's the key.

The diversionary shot gets the Secret
Service looking the other 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.

The others fly out of the country to
someplace with no extradition.

Why don't we drop this subject...

it's one thing to engage in badinage
with all these youngsters,

but this sort of thing could be so
easily misunderstood.

Ouch! Ow! Ouch!

I didn't think much about it at the time.

It's just bullshit, you know.

Everybody likes to make themselves out to
be something more than they are.

Especially in the homosexual
underworld.

But when they got him, man...

I got scared...

Real scared.

And that's when I got popped.

You realize the things you're
saying, Willie,

are gonna be attacked by a lot of
different people.

Oh, bring all those
motherfuckers on, man!

Bring their college degrees in here,
I got nothin' to hide.

You can't buy me.

- They can't buy me.
- I don't wanna buy you.

- I don't even need this damn parole.
- Nobody--

- What are you talking about, parole?
- See, this is about the truth coming out.

You a goddamn liberal, Mr. Garrison.
You don't know shit...

‘cause you never been fucked
in the ass!

This ain't about justice.
You think this is about justice?

No, this is about order.

Who rules.

‘Cause, see,
fascism is coming back.

Nobody wants to buy you,
no one's promising you a parole, here.

I want to be perfectly clear
about that.

What I need to know is why.

All right?

Why are you telling us this?

‘Cause that motherfucker Kennedy...

stole that motherfucking election,
that's why.

Nixon...

was gonna be one of the great presidents
till Kennedy wrecked this country.

Got niggers all over the place asking for
their damn rights.

Why you think we got all this
crime now?

He promised those motherfuckers too
goddamn much, you ask me.

Revolution's coming,
bullshit, man.

Fascism is coming back.

I'm gonna tell you this.

The day that communist son of a bitch died
was a great day--

a great day for this country.

And I just hate to think that they blame
it on some silly fuckin' Oswald.

Didn't know shit anyway, man.
People got to know.

People got to know why
he was killed.

Because he was...

a communist.

Go ahead, man.

You go ahead,
you put me on the stand,

I'll tell the same goddamn story!

Don't matter fuck all to me!

All right, Willie.

Thank you.

We'll be in touch.

All right.

Hey, you know, you're not a
bad-looking man, Mr. Garrison.

Not bad-looking at all.

I get outta here,
I'm gonna come see you.

We could have some fun!

None of their testimony's gonna
hold up in court, chief.

Hell, all three of 'em have reputations
lower than crocodile piss.

Does that bother you, Bill?

I always wondered in court why it is
because a woman's a prostitute,

she has to have bad eyesight.

Now go find this Clay Bertrand.

Start by checking around
the Quarter.

And the six of us, with almost
no budget and in secret,

are gonna solve a case that the Warren
Commission couldn't solve?

I didn't pick you because of your
legal skill, you know.

Gee, thanks, boss.

But because you're a fighter.

I like a man who's not afraid
of bad odds.

Mr. Garrison, how are you?

Remember me?

I surely do.
Did you vote for me?

I certainly did, sir.

We sang together at the Royal Orleans,
remember?

Yeah, we sang...

"You're the Cream in My Coffee."

Mr. Garrison, we haven't seen
enough of you lately.

Been too busy, Paul.

Elected men, they can't have as much fun
as they used to.

It's always nice to see you.

Pleasure to serve you,
always.

- Hey, Jim.
- How are you?

- Good seeing you again.
- Nice to see you.

- Hey, Jim.
- Al.

- Jim.
- Welcome back, Lou.

- Paul.
- Yes?

You think I could get a martini?

Been waiting for you, sir.

Perfect.

- Keep that table open for us, will ya?
- Yes, sir.

Find out anything on those hoboes?

- Photographer from...

The Dallas Times Herald got some
great shots of ‘em.

Never published.

Can't say that comes as a surprise
anymore.

They took ‘em to the sheriff's office
and they let ‘em go.

No record of 'em ever being
questioned.

Take a good look, chief.

Any of 'em look like the hoboes
you remember?

These two look pretty young.

Not a single frayed collar or cuff,

new haircuts, fresh shaves,
clean hands,

new shoe leather.

Well who the hell are they, then?

- Hi, Susie.
- Hello.

- I'm sorry I'm late.
- Come on, sit down.

This could be it. This could be it.
Let's start looking for ‘em.

- What about that railroad man,

- Lee Bowers?

Saw those men at the picket fence.

Graveyard. Dead. August this year.

- Single car accident...

on an empty road in Midlothian,
Texas.

The doctor said he was in some kind of
strange shock when he died.

We need to find more witnesses,
Lou.

Well, there was Rose Cheramie,
a whore.

She said she was a dope runner for
Jack Ruby.

And...

she said that Ruby knew Oswald
for years.

Can we talk to her?

She's dead, too.

- Hit and run.
- Oh, mama.

Why don't we go right to the
horse's mouth, chief?

Jack Ruby's been rotting away in a Dallas
jail cell for three years.

Maybe he's ready to crack.

Can't do it, Bill.

If we go to him, our investigation'll hit
the front pages by sunrise, all right?

It'll blow up right in our face.

Susie, what did you find out
on Oswald?

Uh, negative on his tax records.

Classified.

First time I know a DA can't
get a tax record.

So 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 1,200 documents.
- Ooh.

And can't get one of them.

All classified as secret on the grounds
of national security.

They gave me his grammar school
records!

- It's a study of his pubic hairs!

Lonely kid, no father.

Joins the Marines at 17.

He learns Russian,

he acts overtly Marxist,

but he's stationed at a top-secret
air base in Japan,

where U2 spy flights over Russia
originate.

He's discharged from the Marines,
supposedly because his mother's sick.

Stays home three days,

then with a 1,500-dollar ticket

from a 203-dollar bank account,
he goes to Moscow.

Mr. Oswald, do you understand

the severity of the action that you're
about to take?

Yes, I do, sir, and I am also very
familiar...

I wish 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 he disappears for six weeks,
presumably with the KGB.

Finally they shuttle him to a radio
factory in Minsk,

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 girls.

- Makes sense, he's a spokesman.

But-- 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 by the way
he speaks.

Six weeks later they marry...

have a daughter.

The only explanation for the
royal treatment

can be that he did give them
radar secrets,

or fake secrets.

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
have given the Russians

enough data to hit it.

And as a direct result...

the peace summit between Khrushchev
and Eisenhower failed.

I can't help thinking...

maybe someone in our military didn't want
the peace conference to happen.

- Susie, come on.
- Maybe Oswald was a part of that!

- Susie, you are an assistant DA, remember?
- It gets weirder.

Just stick to what you can prove
in court.

- Facts? You want facts?
- Please.

- Susie, don't get sidetracked.
- From 1945 to '59--

How does he get back to the States?
That's the point, all right?

- Does he have any problems with Uncle Sam?
- No! None.

The State Department issues him a new
passport within 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!

Son of a bitch should've been
prosecuted as a traitor

the minute he stepped off
the boat.

What about Marina,
she have any problems getting out?

No! None either.

No, it's bizarre.

It's next to impossible to get
Russian sweethearts out.

This is a man who has defected
once already.

It's crazy.

Ordinary people...

they get blacklisted for having
leftist affiliations.

- It doesn't add up, does it?

Next thing we know, he's living in
Dallas-Fort Worth October '62...

working six months

- at Jaggars-Chiles-Stovall.

This is a photographic firm that contracts
to make maps for the US Army.

Oswald becomes chummy with the White
Russian community of Dallas,

- all rabid anti-communists.

It's odd.

- His closest friend is an oilman...

named George de Mohrenschildt,

who's about 35 years older
than Oswald,

who is 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 rumored to have been

a Nazi sympathizer.

I think you really talk like a redneck...

De Mohrenschildt draws a picture of Oswald
as an intellectual, well-read,

speaks excellent Russian,

a man who adored JFK.

Oh.

I think he's made some mistakes
regarding Cuba.

I think he's doing a pretty good job.

If he succeeds, in my opinion,
I think he'll make a great president.

- A really handsome one, too.
- Yes.

That's scenery, Susie,
now don't get sidetracked.

This is the same man that, bottom line,
nailed Oswald to the Warren Commission

as a potentially violent man,
and linked him to the rifle.

Well, in that sense,
Castro is an experimenter.

What you got there?

You have a rifle in there?

Lee...

Tell me.

What are you shooting at?

Rabbits or fascists?

I uh....

- I hunt.
- You hunt?

Mm-hmm.

Hillbillies.

We don't know he's CIA,
let's circle him very probable.

- All right.
- Call him Oswald's handler.

The Oswalds are introduced by
George de Mohrenschildt

- to Janet and Bill Williams.

I'm an engineer for
Bell Helicopter.

It's through Janet Williams

- in October '63

that Lee gets the job at
the warehouse

right smack on Elm Street at the
book depository.

Presumably so he can now exercise
his intellect

stacking school texts at
a dollar 25 an hour.

Marina fights often with Lee
about many things.

His secrecy,
their lack of money...

She says that Lee is not sexually
adequate.

- Lee, you'll hurt her! You'll hurt her!

- Lee hits her on several occasions.

Now, at the age of 24,
he rents a small room in Dallas

under the alias of O. H. Lee.

Do you want to look at television?

- Are you all right, Mr. Lee?

No, thank you. I'm fine.

All I can find out about the Williams is
that their tax returns are classified,

and that Bill Williams has links
through his family

- to the CIA,

and does classified work for
Bell Helicopter.

- Bill's convenient separation from Janet

allows Marina to move into
her house,

where she suddenly becomes
Marina's best friend.

- And, there,

- Marina and Lee have a second daughter.
- I have to go away...

- I have to go away...

- Just for a short while.

- What is the matter with this family?

- / love Lee...

And I... sorry him.

You're sorry for him?

Yes.

When he's arrested,

Marina buries him with the public.

Her description of him is that of a
psychotic and violent man.

I have too much facts...

and facts tell me...

that Lee shot Kennedy.

After, they kept her locked away
for two months,

surrounded by federal people,

in fearing she'd be deported back
to Russia.

All right, the poor woman was probably
suffering from nervous exhaustion.

- They taught her how to answer.

And when they think she's ready,
they buy her new dresses,

polish her appearance,
and wheel her out on cue.

I would like to thank the Warren
Commission...

Now, Oswald was no angel,
that's clear.

But who was he?

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 remained one
till the day he died.

That's what we're saying.

Therefore, because
Oswald pulled the trigger,

the intelligence community murdered
their own commander in chief?

Is that what you're saying?

I'll go you one better, Bill.

Maybe Oswald didn't even pull
the trigger.

Nitrate tests indicate he hadn't even
fired a rifle on November 22nd.

And on top of that,
they didn't even bother to see

if the rifle had been fired
that day.

He had his palm print on the weapon.

Well, it went to the FBI, Bill.

FBI 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.

For all we know, it could've been
taken off Oswald in the morgue.

There's no chain of evidence.

I never could figure out why this guy
orders a traceable weapon...

to this post office box,

when he can go into any store
in Texas,

give a phony name, and walk out with a
rifle which can never be traced.

To frame him, obviously.

There's a lot of smoke there,
but there's some fire.

We're talking about our
government, here.

No, we're talking about a crime, Bill.
Pure and simple.

Y'all got to start thinking on a different
level, like the CIA does.

Now we're through the looking glass,
here, people.

White is black.

And black is white.

Just maybe, Oswald is exactly what
he said he was.

A patsy.

It's unbelievable.
You were here?

Yes, sir.

This is where I was sitting.

Shots came from near that wooden
fence over there,

- near the overpass.

And I saw a man run from the fence toward
those railroad cars.

I made it very clear to the
Warren people

that one of the shots came from behind
that picket fence.

I heard the report,
saw the smoke come out

- six or eight feet above the ground,

- right out from under those trees.

- We, uh, all four of us...

- all railroad men...

- seen about the same thing.

The smoke came from behind
the hedge.

I was standing next to my friend,
Mary Moorman,

who took the photograph when he
was killed.

- Um...

I stepped down to the curb and yelled,
"Hey, Mr. President!"

Look over here!

And then shots rang out.

Mary fell to the ground right away.

She was yelling, "They're shooting,
they're shooting, get down!"

I just stood there watching.

The driver had stopped.

I don't know what was wrong with
that driver.

Then...

out of the corner of my eye...

I saw a flash of light in the bushes...

and that last shot....

just ripped his head off.

I looked up and I saw smoke coming from
over there, on the knoll.

We came around here to look for tracks.

It rained that morning,
and we found a bunch.

Cigarette butts...

and someone had stood about here.

That's a good spot,
chief.

For the head shot.

Everything was just frozen.

Seemed like people weren't even
breathing.

Like you were looking at a picture.

Except for this one man.

I saw this one man

running from the corner of the book
depository over towards the parking lot.

It was about 11:00 in the morning.

And I was driving west on Elm Street
toward the Triple Underpass

in a rented car.

A light blue Valiant.

I will never forget that day.

There was quite a bit of traffic and I
stopped alongside this green pickup truck.

And I remember it being
very noticeable

because it had one of its wheels parked up
on the side of the curb.

And then when I saw the gun,
I thought...

Well...

the Secret Service is not very secret.

Then the next morning, on Saturday,
I went down to the FBI office

and the agents showed me
some photographs

and I picked out three pictures
that looked

generally like the driver
of the truck.

That's the man.

You mean you identified Jack Ruby
on Saturday?

That's right.

The day before he shot Oswald?

That's right.
When I saw him on TV...

I was shocked.

I turned to my family
and I said,

"That's the man I saw in the truck."

But you didn't seem nearly so sure in your
statement to the Warren Commission.

What about these others?

You said one of them
might be him.

They look a little bit like him,
but I'm sure this is the man.

Well, it was him I was chasing up
the grassy knoll.

I thought maybe our guys had
shot back.

- And maybe we got one of them.

When I got up to the parking lot,

all I saw were railroad workers and
Dallas' finest.

Secret Service, ma'am.
You're coming with us.

I am not! I don't know you.
We got to find this shooter!

I said, you're coming with us, and I want
those pictures in your pocket.

- I don't have any, son of a bitch!

- He put a hurt on me but good.
- Just smile and keep walking.

But they musta been watching the whole
thing ‘cause they knew everything

Mary and I had done all day.

‘Couse I guess I wasn't too hard to find,
wearing that red raincoat.

How many shots did you say
you heard?

Four to six.

That's impossible!

You heard echoes.

Echoes!

We have three bullets and three shots
that came from the book depository.

That's all we're willing to say.

No, sir.

I saw a man shooting from over there
behind that fence.

Now what are you going to do
about that?

You got to go out there and get him!

We have that taken care of.

You only heard three shots, and you're
not to talk about this with anybody.

No one. Do you understand me?

Which is strange,

‘cause it's less than 20 minutes after
the assassination.

Get her out of here.

I knew something was
crooked as a dog's hind leg.

Sure enough...

When I read my testimony as published
by the Warren Commission,

it was a fabrication from start
to finish.

Well, that's what bothers me,
Mr. Garrison, is they've been altered.

My statements.

See, this one here says...

"Mercer could not identify any of the
photographs

"as being identical with the person that
she had observed

slouched over the wheel of the green
Ford pickup truck.”

Well, that is not true.

I never said any such thing,
I recognized him and I told them so.

Let's take your time,
be sure.

I'm sure.

And then here on the Dallas
sheriff's report,

this is really strange.

You see that notarized signature right
there at the bottom of each page?

That is not my signature.

And there never was any notary present
during any of my questioning.

Mrs. Mercer,
as a former FBI man, it's...

It's difficult to accept this.

Beverly, tell Mr. Garrison about
the Carousel Club.

Okay.

Well, 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,
LBJ's friends.

Dallas was a slowpokin' town
back then!

I mean you chewed toothpicks,

- played dominoes, spit, dated policemen,

- but Jack, that was exciting.

- There were always cops there.

- Jack liked them around...

even though he used to throw out
the drunks himself.

He was kind of a
violent-tempered man, actually.

Hey, how are ya!

You know, everybody in those
days knew Jack was in the mob.

Hey, sweetheart!

Cops back then...

- they were bad.
- Hey, Tippit.

They'd shake you down for the money
in your pocket.

You know,
there was this one case...

- Yeah, um, Beverly, what about Lee?

- Beverly, come over here!
- Well...

One time I came in, and Jack introduced me
to these two guys.

- Hi!
- Hi, baby.

He says, "Beverly, I'd like you
to meet my friend, Lee."

I want you to meet my friend,
Lee Oswald.

I don't remember the
other guy's name,

but he was a weird-looking guy.

He had these eyebrows.

He kinda looked like a buzzard!

Well...

Lee didn't make much of an impression.
He was...um...

- Well, he really wasn't very good-looking,

and he didn't look like he had
any money.

And he was in a bad mood, so I didn't
pay him much mind.

You know, I may not remember a name,
but I always remember a face.

Then a couple weeks later when I saw him
on the television...

I screamed,
"My God! That's him!"

"That's Jack's friend!"

Will you testify,
Beverly?

I don't think so.

Now I thought when we came here,
we had an agreement.

I don't want to become another
statistic, like her.

We could call you in, Beverly,
we could call you in.

If they can kill the President of the
United States...

do you think they're gonna think twice
about a two-bit showgirl like me?

I understand the pressure you're under,
Beverly.

Don't think for a minute I don't.

We both do.

Mr. Chief Justice...

You understand that I cannot tell the
truth here, in Dallas?

There are people here who do not want me
to tell the truth...

who don't want me to have
a retrial?

Mr. Ruby, I don't see why you don't
just tell us now.

My life is in danger!

If you request that I go back to
Washington with you,

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.
There would be no safe place for you.

We're not law enforcement officers.

Mr. Ruby, there's a great deal at stake
in this matter.

See,
if I am eliminated...

there won't be any way of knowing any bit
of the truth pertaining to my situation.

And, consequently, a whole new form
of government

is going to take over this country.

Yeah!

And I know that I won't live to see you
some other time.

‘Cause I want to tell the truth...

and then...
I want to leave this world.

The Zapruder film establishes
three shots in 5.6 seconds.

Here.

I'm Oswald.

Time me.

- Go.

Time?

Between six and seven seconds.

And that's without really aiming.

The key is the second and third shots came
almost right on top of each other.

It takes a minimum...

2.3 seconds to recycle this thing.

The other problem is there was
a tree there...

blocking the first two shots

at the time they occur in the
Zapruder film.

Didn't J. Edgar Hoover say something
about that?

The leaves had fallen off in
November?

It was a Texas Live Oak, chief.

It sheds its leaves the first week
of March.

You take this Carcano, the world's
worst shoulder weapon,

and you try to hit a moving target
at 88 yards,

through heavy foliage. No way.

Here.

FBI tried two sets of tests.

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 was the proof they
didn't count on, Lou.

We got to get our hands on it.

That means we have to subpoena
Time-Life.

Let me ask you something,
Lou.

Why not just shoot Kennedy coming up
Houston?

There's plenty of time.

He's out in the open.

I know, I keep asking myself the
same thing.

It's a frontal shot.

Even if you miss him for
the first shot,

if he accelerates, you still got him
for the second shot.

Now, the only reason for waiting
to get him on Elm,

is you got him in a triangulated
crossfire, all right?

You put a team there,
down at the fence,

for a frontal shot,
flat, low trajectory.

Put a third team down here,
in this building, here, on a low floor,

when Kennedy gets to the kill zone there,
it's a turkey shoot.

How many men?

Okay.

One shooter,

one spotter on a radio,
maybe three teams.

I'd say these were professional riflemen,
too, chief, they're serious people.

Hunters.

Patient.

Takes skill to kill with a rifle,
chief.

You got to figure, that's why there's been
no execution of a chief executive

with one in 200 years.

- Three...

two...

- one...

Main Street's over there,
right?

Original parade route on the way to
the Trade Mart.

Its too far, right?

Too far.

Impossible shot,
so they change the parade route,

bring him down here,

moving at a normal
25 miles per hour.

They knew the motorcade would have to slow
down to about 10 miles per hour

- to make that turn there,

and that's where you got him.

Who do you think changed
the parade route, Lou?

Beats me.

Secret Service, city officials,
Dallas police.

You know who the mayor was
at the time?

Earle Cabell.

Guess who his brother is.

Who?

- General Charles Cabell.
- Who?

Deputy Director of the CIA.

Kennedy fired him in '61 because of the
Bay of Pigs fiasco.

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?

Who?

Our friend, Clay Shaw.

And the Warren Commission call him?

His boss was the one on the Warren
Commission

who handled all the leads to the
intelligence community.

Allen Dulles?

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 both.

Clay Bertrand?

Sure, I know him.
Comes around the Quarter.

Who is he, Joe?
I've been to all the bars,

nobody wants to talk.

Why should they talk to you?

I told your uncle I never met a lawman
who wasn't a punk.

He's a big-shot businessman.

I seen him on the TV news a lot,
with all the other big shots.

The guy's a fag,
you know.

Goes by another name.

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.

Then, why does he call himself
Bertrand?

Who gives a shit what
he calls himself.

Hey, what about that
grand jury thing?

You think you're gonna give us
a little help on that?

I hope so. We could use it.

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...

Jasper, cut it out!

...getting a telescopic sight fixed,
going to rifle ranges.

Early November,

at a Dallas downtown
Lincoln-Mercury dealership,

where he tells the salesman,
Albert Bogard,

Let's take it out for a test drive.

...despite the fact he has no license,

and, from what Marina says,
doesn't know how to drive,

he hits the curves like
A. J. Foyt at the Indy 500.

Bogard later told his boss he drove
like a madman.

Hey, 300 bucks down now, Mr. Oswald,
you can drive outta here.

What?

For this heap?

No honest, working man can afford to buy
a car in this goddamn country anymore.

Maybe I'll have to go to Russia
and buy a car.

Really dumb dialogue, like he's
trying to draw attention to himself.

- Yeah, maybe you should.
- A real moron. He walks out.

Salesman remembers him as
about 5'7"

but we know from Oswald's draft card
that he was actually 5°11".

Other witnesses see him on several
separate days

- at different firing ranges.

- And one time, November 9th,

- he decides he needs to practice

- on the target of the guy next to him.

I didn't pay two bits for a target just
to have someone else shoot at it.

- Hey, I'm sorry, buddy.

I thought I was shooting at that
son-of-a-bitch Kennedy.

About as subtle as a cockroach crawling
across a white rug.

Then he shows up at
Silvia Odio's,

a Cuban lady in Dallas working in the
anti-Castro underground.

The two Cubans introduce him as
Leon Oswald.

- Because he is a friend of ours!
- Something about the men bothers her.

About 48 hours later,
one of the Cubans calls her back.

What did you think of Leon Oswald
last night?

I don't care,
I don't know Oswald.

You know what he said to us?

He said, "You Cubans don't have any guts,
‘cause Kennedy should have been killed

after the Bay of Pigs,
and some Cubans should have done it."

It's like he's giving her information

- she doesn't even ask for.
- Why did you tell me this?

She's scared,
doesn't see them again...

till she sees Oswald's picture
in the paper.

But the Warren Commission says that
Silvia has bad eyesight

because they have Oswald in Mexico
at this time,

trying to get back into Cuba.

The CIA has a camera outside the
Cuban Embassy

and they say that this...

is Oswald in Mexico. Now...

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

It's interesting, the extent to
which the Warren Commission went

to make him a communist.

I'm beginning to think the whole point
of the Mexican episode

was to lay the blame at Fidel
Castro's door.

I mean, 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
supported a Cuban invasion.

I even have doubts about this photo,
boss.

- This pretty much convicted Oswald

in the public's mind, but Oswald told
Captain Fritz during his interrogation

- that the photo was fake.
- This is not me.

That came from Janet
Williams' garage.

Well, I never saw this picture!

That is my face, but my face has been
super-imposed.

The rest of the picture is
not me at all,

and I have done a lot of
photographic work,

and that picture was made
by someone else!

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 down here on the
ground reads more like

late afternoon or early morning.

It's not the same time.

Also, look at the crop marks
across the chin.

It seems like this head is pasted onto
somebody else's body,

implicating him with the rifle
and the gun.

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

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

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's a man using the name
"Oswald" to buy trucks

for the Friends of Democratic Cuba.

Salesman never sees him again,

but guess who's on the articles of
incorporation

of the Friends for Democratic Cuba?

Who?

- Guy Banister.

- Banister has someone

using the name "Oswald"
to buy the trucks.

Hoover, at the FBI, writes a memo
dated June of 1960,

that someone could be 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.

Anybody want to quit?

All right, dumb question.
Put your hands down.

Hey, Bill.

I found Clay Bertrand.

Who?

Grab your socks and hose
and pull.

Clay Bertrand is Clay Shaw.

- Damn.
- Shaw?

Director of the Trade Mart?

- Former director of the Trade Mart.
- Oh, my God.

That's incredible.

Can you get some sworn statements?

Now, that's going to be tough.
Nobody is talking.

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

Oh, honey, I hate for him to get
dragged into this.

He's done so much for the city, with
all that restoration in the Quarter.

Remember, we saw him at the Bali
Ha'i fundraiser?

He seems like such a nice man.

Honey,
it'll be off the record.

I'll bring him in on a Sunday.

Quiet, little chat
between gentlemen.

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 action.

Liz?

President Johnson, meanwhile,
said he regretted

there is no end in sight to the war
in Vietnam.

Five-hundred thousand American troops

- Out here, honey!
- are now fighting...

We face more cost...

more loss... and more agony.

Come on outside and help the kids
hunt for Easter eggs!

Oh, honey, that's the kids' job,
all right?

You know I don't like these
tribal rituals, anyway.

Besides, I told you I'm talking
to Clay Shaw this morning.

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

- No, I told you I was talking to Shaw.

Well, why in the world did you do it
in the middle of Easter Sunday?

‘Cause when I scheduled it,
I didn't realize it was a holiday.

For Pete's sakes, honey,
look at the calendar!

Liz, honey, you were there,
why didn't you say something?

You said a Sunday,
not Easter Sunday.

Clay Shaw is important.

And we're not.

I didn't say that, Liz.

I didn't say that.

You're missing most of your life,
and you don't even know it, honey.

- The kids are missing out, too.

- You're not the only one making
- Look, I'll rush,

- sacrifices around here.
- And I'll be there by 2:00, I promise.

Okay? Now--

You just go ahead without me.

Mr. Garrison, what can I do for you
on Easter Sunday?

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.

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 Logan?

Uh, no. Never heard of him.

A Perry Russo?

No.

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 that?

Of course not.
I don't know this man.

Be still my heart.

Obviously then, I wouldn't have him
over for dinner.

- Hope you like squab.

- Champagne?
- Yeah.

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 remembered that you sat
at one end and he at the other,

which he found rather unusual because
the table was so long.

How was your mousse?

Does that bring back memories
of Willie O'Keefe?

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.

It's precisely the point of a long
dining table.

The splendor of the meal adds to
the enjoyment of it.

I would imagine that a
uniformed waiter helps.

It adds a taste of elegance,

for which I must confess a weakness,
now and then.

I call him Smedley.

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 all this leading to,
Mr. Garrison?

After dinner,
you paid him to have sex.

That is absolute nonsense.

The Quarter is filled with vivid
imaginations, my dear Mr. Garrison.

Grimy young hoodlums,
who will say and do

- anything, as you well know.
- In the course of that night,

Mr. O'Keefe told us that a man named
David Ferrie stopped by the house

along with another young man.

- Who?
- David Ferrie.

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

Course never having met Mr. O'Keefe
I could hardly have met Mr. Ferrie.

- Here you go. Here you go.

- You're mine, Mary. You're mine.

The four of you partied early into
the morning hours.

Look at this picture.

I'm sure I've never met anyone of such
a bizarre appearance.

- Come here, bitch!

- Come here!

- The only way you get this

- is do exactly what I say.

- I'm the man, don't ever forget it!

- You want it? You want it?

Does the name Clay Bertrand
mean anything to you?

- Clay Bertrand... Clay Bertrand.
- Clay Bertrand.

I believe there was a man with a
name similar to that,

worked over at the Chamber of Commerce.
Is that the man you had in mind?

No, it was not.

Mr. Shaw,
can you identify this man?

Naturally.

Are you claiming, Mr. Garrison,
that Mr. Oswald also had dinner with me?

Mr. Shaw, have you ever met
Lee Harvey Oswald?

You really have me consorting with
a sordid cast of characters.

- Just answer the question.
- Of course not.

Such a pity, that assassination.

In fact,
I admired President Kennedy.

A man of true panache,
wife of impeccable taste.

- I'm hungry!
- Well, why don't we just go ahead

and order without your daddy,
I don't think he'll mind.

I want a Shirley Temple!

- Oh, kids, put your water guns away.
- Me, too!

- When's Daddy coming, Mama?

Soon, he's coming soon.

He's really sorry he couldn't start
with us, but he promised he'd be here.

- Daddy never keeps his promises.

- I'm bored!

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
activity.

It says that this company was expelled
from Italy for those activities.

I'm well aware of that asinine article.

I'm thinking very seriously of suing
that rag of a newspaper.

It also says that this company is
linked to the Schlumberger Tool Company,

here in Houma, Louisiana,

which helped provide arms
to David Ferrie and his Cubans.

Mr. Garrison, you're reaching.

Am I?

I'm 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 for
the Central Intelligence Agency?

And if I were...

Mr. Garrison, do you believe...

I would be here today...

talking to somebody like you?

No.

People like you don't have to,
I guess.

May I go?

People like you, they just walk
between the raindrops.

May I go?

Yes.

Regardless of what you may think of me,
Mr. Garrison,

I am a patriot first and foremost.

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 murder his own president.

Now, just a minute, sir.
You are way out of line.

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.

"One may smile and smile
and be a villain."

Goddammit,
we got one of ‘em.

Did you see that?

- Hi, honey.
- Hi.

- Tough day.
- Daddy, where you been?

My sympathies.

Liz, I'm really sorry, but the meeting
took much longer than expected.

Just a second, Jasper.

We waited for hours, Jim!

Honey, you could've telephoned.

I know, I don't know what to say,
except I'm sorry, all right?

I just don't have rabbits
on my mind.

You know what I think?

Daddy?

I think you care more about John
Kennedy than your own family!

All day, the kids are asking,
"Where's Daddy?"

What am I supposed to
tell your kids, Jim!

- Papa?
- I don't know what to tell them.

How about the truth?

I'm doing my job to make sure they can
grow up in a country,

- Papa?
- where justice won't be an arcane,

vanished idea they read about
in history books.

- Oh, that sounds real dandy.
- Like the dinosaurs,

- or the lost continent of Atlantis.
- But it doesn't replace a husband

or a father on Easter Sunday.

Well, it's gonna get worse,
Liz.

Do you know who killed
President Kennedy?

Was there a conspiracy here
in New Orleans?

- Excuse me, gentlemen.
- I don't know what you're talking about.

- Get out of here!

- Watch out! Watch out!

Congratulations, boss,
you're page one.

And it ain't pretty.

It says we've spend more than
8,000 dollars

on unexplained travel
and investigative

expenses in a period
since November 1966.

Goddamn!

They went to the public records.

They got the vouchers that we requested
for withdrawals.

Shaw must've gotten them on our tail.

It could've been Ferrie, Martin,
Andrews, any of ‘em.

Damnit!

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

They hunted down the news,
it's their business.

Well, you'd at least think they'd attempt
to understand what we're trying to do!

Well, getting angry doesn't accomplish
a damn thing!

Son of a bitch.

Well, this changes everything,
now, doesn't it?

What do you mean?

Well...

Either we pull out now, or we go through
some heavy flack together.

Bear in mind, each of you, this may affect
the rest of your careers, your lives.

If any one of you want to
pull out now,

I assure you I will bear no ill feelings
towards that person

and will reassign you to
regular duties.

There it is, then.

Thank you.

That means a great deal to me.

I'm giving this office 6,000 dollars from
my National Guard savings account,

SO we cah continue.

I'll make speeches where I can
and pick up additional money.

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.

Neither confirm, deny,
nor discuss, Sharon.

Goodbye, ladies, gentlemen.

I'm going home to where I can get
a decent day's work done.

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 at a national level?

Yeah?

Did your office plant
that garbage in the fuckin' paper?

- Who is this?
- You know exactly who the fuck this is!

- Dave?
- Yeah, you got it.

Listen...

Since you're the only straight shooter
in that fuckin' office,

I'd like a fuckin' answer
from you. Did you plant it?

Dave, 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?

Somebody planted that fuckin' story!

Somebody tipped off the press I'm one
of fuckin' Garrison's suspects.

I can't-- I can't go home!

The fuckin' maggots
are everywhere!

Do you know what you've done
to me?

Calm down, Dave, what?

From here on,
I am a fuckin' dead man.

- A dead man!
- What are you talking about?

Dave, you even weren't mentioned in the
story. Don't jump to conclusions.

Look, meet me in the lobby of
the Fontainebleau in 20 minutes.

I guarantee you the boss will
protect you.

He likes you,
he likes your mind.

I guess, you know, I just don't know who
to trust anymore, you know?

I suppose I could use a pot of hot coffee
and a few packs of Luckies.

So you got anything new in the
investigation?

Who you scared of,
Dave?

Me? Everybody.

- Agency, mob, Cubans.

That's it, follow the Cubans.
Check 'em out.

Here, Miami, Dallas.

Check out a guy named
Eladio del Valle.

He used to be my paymaster when I
flew missions into Cuba.

He's somewhere in Miami.
You're on the right track.

Hey, hey!
Don't be writing this down.

I ain't cooperating here with no one.
What's going on here?

There's a death warrant for me!
Don't you get it?

Damn!

Wait a minute, you ain't bugged,
are you?

Son of a bitch, Lou.
Are you?

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.

I haven't slept since
that shit article come out.

Why'd you guys have to go and get me
involved with this?

Did we get you involved or did
Clay Shaw, Dave?

Cocksuckin' faggot!

- He got me by the balls.
- What do you mean?

You know, photographs,
compromising stuff.

And he'll use ‘em, too.
The Agency plays for keeps.

I knew Oswald.
He was in my Civil Air Patrol unit.

I taught him everything.
He was a "wannabe," you know?

Nobody really liked him ‘cause they
thought he was a snitch.

I treated him good.

He'd talk about his kid, you know, really
wanted her to grow up with a chance, but--

- What's this?

What's going on here?

Ain't nobody coming in here.

- Just room service.

Black, black-- just give it to me.

Black.

- Shit.

My neck is killing me.

I got cancer,
I've had it for years.

I been working with mice,
you know, trying to find a cure.

Did you ever work for the CIA?

You make it sound like some remote fuckin'
experience in ancient history.

- Man, you don't leave the Agency.

Once you're in,
they got you for life.

Shaw?

Shaw?
Shaw's an "untouchable."

Highest clearance.

Shaw, Oswald, the Cubans--
all Agency.

What about Ruby?

Jack?
Jack was a pimp.

He was a bagman for
the Dallas mob.

He used to run guns to Castro
when he was still on our side.

We almost had Castro with us,
then we tried to whack him.

Everybody's flipping sides
all the time.

It's fun and games, man,
fun and games.

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

They're Agency, too, man.

CIA and the mafia working together,

trying to whack out the Beard.

Mutual interests.
They been doing it for years!

There's more to this than
you could dream!

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.

"Oh, what a deadly web we weave
when we practice to deceive.”

Then who killed the president?

Oh, man,
why don't you fuckin' stop it!

Shit!

Who did--

This is too fuckin' big for you,
you know that?

This is-- who did the president?
Who killed Kennedy?

Fuck, man!

It's a mystery!

It's a mystery wrapped in a riddle
inside an enigma!

The fuckin' shooters don't even know!
Don't you get it?

Fuck, man!

I can't keep talking like this.

They're gonna fuckin' kill me!

I'm gonna fuckin' die!

Son of a bitch!

- It's all right, David.

I don't know what happened.

Fuck!

All I wanted in the world...

was to be a Catholic priest,

live in a monastery,

pray, serve God.

I had one fuckin'...

one terrible fuckin' weakness!

And they defrocked me!

Then I started to lose everything.

It's gonna be okay, Dave.

You just talk to us on the record and
we'll protect you, I guarantee it.

They'd get to you, too.

They'll destroy you.

They're untouchable, man.

I'm so fuckin' exhausted,
I can't see straight.

Out of here!

Oh, Lord.

A little early for Mardi Gras,
isn't it?

Paris Match,
largest magazine in France.

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

Victoria Taylor,
British Private Eye.

Do you know who shot the president?
Mr. Garrison is too busy...

Boss, I'm telling 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 gonna hold on.

Look at this bullshit!

He keeps changing what he says.

We can't possibly call him
to a grand jury.

Susie, watch the language,
would you please?

My instinct is that Ferrie is gonna
keep on deteriorating,

and we'll end up getting more out of him
when he finally cracks.

Oh, bullshit!
Now, if you start to--

If we call him in now,
he might freeze up

and we'll lose the best shot
we ever had.

You guys don't get it, do you?
He can't go down any further.

We got to protect him full time.

We don't have enough funds
to protect anybody full time.

I know what you're going through
with Ferrie, Lou, all right?

We'll talk tomorrow.

I got a plane to catch.

- Going to Washington.

Washington?

Yeah, an interesting lead says he's
closely connected to these events,

but he won't come down here.

I'm onto Ferrie's Cuban paymaster,
Eladio del Valle, in Miami.

I tell ya, I need more men.
I got to get him in, boss.

I can't even pull the teams
to watch Ferrie.

Listen,
I gave this man my word.

This is our case!

- Hold it! Hold it!
- For God's sake, Numa--

I got something to show you.

I think you'll find it
very interesting.

Numa, what is that thing?

Williams found this in your office.

We think the conference room is also
bugged, maybe the phones.

We're gonna have to debug
the whole place.

Bugging the DA's office!
This is outrageous!

Mr. lvon, it's for you.
It's urgent.

You can believe what you want to,
but we're gonna have to be more careful.

All these new volunteers, I mean,
any one of them could be--

Okay, Numa, you handle it, all right?
I don't have...

- I don't have time for this nonsense.

Well, we--

We've obviously got the bastards
worried now.

I'm coming to Washington.

Dave Ferrie's dead.

Found his body at his apartment
a couple hours ago.

What's it look like, Nick?

I don't see any violence, Jim.
Heart attack, maybe an aneurysm.

Looks like natural causes.

This is 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."

- Goes on and on.

"Daily we are propagandized more and
more by the rising crime wave."

Pretty flowery for Dave Ferrie.

Proloid?

Yeah, I took it once for a low
thyroid condition.

It raises the metabolism,
Lou.

Did David Ferrie strike you as the kind
of person with a low metabolism?

Hardly, I'd say the opposite.
Hypertension.

You know, Ferrie was the only one to
express any kind of remorse

about the whole thing.

I think it got him killed.

Lou? Boss?

More bad news from Miami.

They found Ferrie's Cuban friend,
Eladio del Valle, today.

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.

Now, ain't that the devil's piss.

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, and all I got..."
- Jesus.

They must've been hard pressed
to come up with that one.

Nick,
can I have a word with you?

What would happen if a man suffering
from hypertension

were to take an entire bottle
of Proloid?

He'd die pretty quick,

either a heart storm or a ruptured
blood vessel in the brain.

Uh-huh.

Can you ascertain if there's Proloid
in his system?

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.

What you thinking, Jim?

I don't know,
it doesn't make sense, Nick.

I mean, the man's afraid of dying,

then he kills himself in a way
that leaves no trace?

But he leaves two unsigned
suicide notes?

If it's a suicide,
I seen weirder, Jim.

The fact is he's gone, chief,
and so is our case.

Unless we go for Shaw now.

With whose testimony?
Willie O'Keefe, a male prostitute?

Jack Martin, a drunk?
Vernon Bundy, a dope fiend?

Shaw's got respect, Lou.

Newspaper editors,
the American Bar Association--

I agree with Bill.

- We haven't got the goods yet!
- We wait...

Shaw's gonna get whacked.
Now, how many corpses is it gonna take

before you lawyers figure out
what's going on?

You watch your mouth!
Ferrie did this to himself.

Where you going, boss?

I don't know, Bill.
I just don't know.

- Hey, Bill!
- Hey, where you at, Frank?

You're wasting your time here. Big Jim
gave strict orders, no FBI allowed.

- It's you I want to talk to, Bill.
- No, no.

Boss would fry me in hog fat
if he knew I talked to you.

Your boss got a serious problem,
Bill.

Real serious.

We know what's been going on
over at your office.

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 Garrison.

Frank, I don't want to hear this.

We're talking about your career,
here, Bill, your life.

You're a young guy.

We know you're working
that Castro thing.

- 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.

And that's a hell of a lot more important
than Jim Garrison.

Goddammit, look at me
when I talk to you!

- You're goddamn too self-opinionated--
- I can't, I can't!

Shut up! Shut up!

If you got a brain in that thick skull
of yours, you'll listen to me.

You listen real hard.

Now, get in the car.

Jim Garrison?

Yes.

I'm glad you came.

Sorry about the precautions.

Well, I just hope it was
worth my while, Mr...

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, so

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.

Closer than you think.

Okay?

Everything I'm gonna tell you
is classified top secret.

I was a soldier, Mr. Garrison.

Two wars.

I was one of those secret guys in the
Pentagon

that supplies the military hardware,
planes, bullets, rifles,

for what we call
"Black Operations."

"Black Ops."

Assassinations, coup d'états, rigging
elections, propaganda, psych warfare,

and so forth.

World War Il, I was in Rumania,
Greece, Yugoslavia.

I helped evacuate part of the Nazi
intelligence apparatus

just before the end of the war.

We used those guys in the fight against
the communists.

In Italy '48, stole the elections.
France '49, broke the strikes.

Overthrew Quirino in the Philippines,
Arbenz in Guatemala, Mossadegh in Iran.

We were in Vietnam in '54,
Indonesia '58, Tibet '59.

Got the Dalai Lama out.

We were good.

Very good.

Then we get into the Cuban thing.
Not so good.

Set up all the bases for the invasion
supposed to take place in October '62.

Mm-hmm.

Khrushchev sent the missiles to resist
the invasion, Kennedy didn't invade...

and we were standing out there
with our dicks in the wind.

A lot of pissed-off people,
Mr. Garrison.

You understand?

I'll come to that later.

So... 1963.

I spent much of September '63

working on the Kennedy plan
for getting all US personnel

out of Vietnam
by the end of 1965.

This plan was one of the strongest,
most important papers issued

from the Kennedy White House.

His National Security Action Memo 263

ordered home the first 1,000 troops
for Christmas.

But then in November,

One week after the murder of
Vietnamese President Diem in Saigon,

and two weeks before the
assassination of our president,

a strange thing happened to me.

Colonel.

Excuse me, I got a note saying you
wanted to see me, General?

I do indeed.

You are going to the South Pole.

lam?

You are.

Dr. Mooney's got the details,
I want you to check with him.

Have yourself a nice vacation.

I was sent by my superior officer,
we'll call him "Y,"”

I was sent by General Y
to the South Pole,

as the military escort for a group
of international VIPs.

I was on my way back,
in New Zealand,

when the president was killed.

Now...

Oswald was charged at 7 p.m.
Dallas time with Tippit's murder.

That's 2:00 in the afternoon of the
next day, New Zealand time.

But already...

their papers had the entire history

of this unknown
24-year-old man, Oswald,

studio picture, detailed biographical
data, Russian information,

and were pretty sure of the fact that
he killed the president alone,

although it took them
four more hours

before they even charged him with
that crime in Dallas.

It felt to me as if...

well, a cover story was
being put out,

like we would in a Black Op.

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?

And I wondered if
it could've been because...

One of my routine duties,
if I had been in Washington,

would've been to arrange
for additional security in Texas.

So I decided to check it out...

and sure enough,
I found out

that 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,
Colonel Reich.

I believe it's a mistake.

Now this is significant because it is
standard operating procedure,

especially in a known hostile city
like Dallas,

to supplement the Secret Service.

I mean, even if we had not allowed
the bubbletop

to be removed from the limousine,

we would've placed at least 100 to 200
agents on the sidewalk, without question.

I mean, only a month before
in Dallas,

UN Ambassador Adlai Stevenson
was spit on and hit.

- Right, yeah.
- There had already been several attempts

on de Gaulle's life in France.

We would have arrived days
ahead of time,

studied the route,
checked all the buildings,

never would've allowed all those wide-open
empty windows overlooking Dealey.

Never!

We'd've had our own snipers
covering the area.

The minute a window went up,
they'd have been on the radio.

We'd've been watching the crowd,

packages, rolled-up newspapers,
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 an hour,

much less take that unusual curve
at Houston and EIm.

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.

Now who could've best done this?

Black Ops, Mr. Garrison.
People in my business.

People like my superior officer could've
called Colonel Reich and said

"Look, we have another unit coming from
so and so providing security.

You'll stand down."
I mean, that day, in fact,

there were some individual
Army Intelligence people in Dallas

I'm still trying to figure out
who and why.

But they weren't protecting
the client.

And, of course, Oswald.

Army Intel had a
"Harvey Lee Oswald" on file,

but all those files
have been destroyed.

Many strange things
were happening,

and your Lee Harvey Oswald
had nothing to do with them.

We had the entire cabinet
on a trip to the Far East.

We had one third of a combat division
returning from Germany

in the air above the United States
at the time of the shooting.

At 12:34 p.m., the entire telephone
system went out in Washington

for a solid hour,

and on the plane back
to Washington,

word was radioed from the White House
Situations Room to Lyndon Johnson

that one individual performed
the assassination.

Does that sound like a bunch
of coincidences to you, Mr. Garrison?

No.

Not for one moment.

The cabinet was out of the country
to get their perceptions out of the way.

Troops were in the air for
possible riot control.

The telephones didn't work to keep
the wrong stories from spreading

if anything went wrong
with the plan.

Nothing was left to chance.

He could not be allowed
to escape alive.

Well, I never thought 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...

something deeper.

Uglier.

I knew Allen Dulles very well,
I briefed him many a time in his house.

But for the life of me, I still
can't figure out why he was appointed

to investigate Kennedy's death.

The man who had fired him.

Dulles, by the way,
was General Y's benefactor.

I get out in '64.

Resigned my commission.

I never realized Kennedy was so
dangerous to the establishment.

Is that why?

That's the real question,
isn't it?

"Why?"

The "how" and the "who" is just
scenery for the public.

Oswald, Ruby, Cuba, the mafia...

keeps them guessing like some kind
of parlor game,

prevents them from asking the most
important question: "Why?"

Why was Kennedy killed?

Who benefitted?

Who has the power to cover it up?

Who?

In 1961...

right after the Bay of Pigs--

Very few people
know about this, all right?

I participated in drawing up National
Security Action Memos 55, 56, 57.

- General?
- These are crucial documents,

classified top secret, but
basically in them...

Kennedy instructed General Lemnitzer,
chairman of the Joint Chiefs,

- that from here on forward,

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 JFK promised he would,

into a thousand pieces,

and now he was ordering the military
to help him do it.

This was unprecedented!

I can't tell you

the shock waves that this sent along the
corridors of power in Washington.

This and, of course, the firing of
Allen Dulles, Richard Bissell,

and General Charles Cabell,

all of them sacred cows in Intel
since World War II.

You got some very upset
people here.

Kennedy's directives were never really
implemented because of...

bureaucratic resistance,

but one of the results was...

the Cuban operation was turned over
to my department

as "Operation Mongoose."

Mongoose was pure Black Ops.

It was secretly based in the south
campus of Miami University,

which was the largest domestic
CIA station,

budgeted annually over hundreds
of millions of dollars.

Three hundred agents,
7,000 select Cubans,

50 fake business fronts for
laundering money.

They waged non-stop war
against Castro.

Industrial sabotage, crop burning,
the works.

And all of this came under
the control of General Y.

All he did was take the rules of covert
warfare he'd used abroad,

and brought them into
this country.

Now he had the people,
the equipment, the bases,

and the motivation.

And don't underestimate the budget
cuts that Kennedy called for

in March of '63 either.

Nearly 52 military installations in
25 states, 21 overseas bases.

You're talking big money.

You know how many helicopters have
been lost in Vietham?

Hmm?

- Nearly 3,000 so far.

Who makes them?
Bell Helicopter. Who owns Bell?

Well, Bell was nearly bankrupt when
the First National Bank of Boston

approached the CIA about developing
the helicopter for Indochina usage.

How about the F-111 fighters?

General Dynamics of Fort Worth,
Texas. Who owns that?

Find out the defense budget
since the war began.

Seventy-five going on 100 billion.

Nearly 200 billion will be spent
before it's over.

In 1949, it was 10 billion.

No war, no money.

The organizing principle of any society,
Mr. Garrison, is for war.

The authority of the state over its people
resides in its war powers.

And Kennedy wanted to end the Cold War
in his second term.

He wanted to call off 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 1962,

and he set out to withdraw
from Vietnam.

But all of that ended on
the 22nd of November, 1963.

As early as 1961 they knew Kennedy was
not going to go to war in Southeast Asia.

Like Caesar, he is surrounded by enemies
and something's underway,

but it has no face,
yet everybody in the loop knows.

You can forget about your
combat troops.

He told McNamara he is gonna pull out
the goddamned advisors!

He fucked us in Laos, and now,
he is gonna fuck us in goddamn Vietnam!

He won't implement it before
the election, he can't afford to.

I hear the NSC meeting
was a real barn-burner.

I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Heads are gonna roll everywhere.

Did you hear what Lemnitzer did?

What happened?

Kennedy tried to rub Lem's nose in shit,
saying if we didn't go into Cuba,

which is so close, why should we go into
Vietnam, which is so far away.

Son of a bitch, there he goes again.
He's got his hands on the chicken switch.

Anyway, Lem said that the Chiefs still
think we oughta go into Cuba.

- Money's at stake. Big money.

Hundred billion dollars.

Kennedy brothers target voting districts
for those defense dollars.

They give TFX fighter contracts

only to those counties that are gonna
make a difference in '64.

And the people in the loop,
they fight back. Their way.

We have to control the intelligence
from Saigon.

Well, just don't let McNamara start
sticking his damn nose in this thing!

Every time he goes over to Saigon on
some fuckin' fact-finding mission,

he comes back and just scares
the shit out of the president!

Now I want Max Taylor on him night
and day, like a fly on shit.

Now you control McNamara,
then you control Kennedy.

I think it started like that,

in the wind.

Defense contractors, big oil bankers.
Just conversations, nothing more.

Then, a call is made, maybe to someone
like my superior officer, General Y.

- Yeah?
- We're going.

We need your help.

- When?
- In the fall, probably in the South.

- We want you to come up with a plan.
- I can do that.

Everything is cellularized.
No one has said, "He must die.”

There's been no vote, nothing's on paper,
there's no one to blame.

It's as old as the crucifixion.

- Or the military firing squad.

Five bullets, 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,

no matter 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'état.

Kennedy announces
the Texas trip in September.

At that moment, second Oswalds
start popping up all over Dallas,

where they have the mayor
and the cops in their pocket.

General Y flies in the assassins.

Maybe from the special camp we keep
outside Athens, Greece.

Pros.

Maybe locals, Cubans, mafia hire.
Separate teams.

Does it really matter who shot
from what rooftop?

Part of the scenery, right?

I keep thinking about that day,
Tuesday, the 26th of November.

The day after they buried Kennedy.

Gentlemen, I want you to know, I'm
not gonna let Vietham go like China did.

I'm personally committed.

And I'm not gonna take one soldier
outta there

till they know we mean business
in Asia.

Lyndon Johnson signs
National Security Memo 273,

which essentially reverses Kennedy's
new withdrawal policy

and gives the green light to covert
action against North Vietnam,

which provoked
the Gulf of Tonkin incident.

Just get me elected,
I'll give you your damn war.

In that document...

lay the Vietham War.

I don't-- I can't...

I can't believe it. They killed him
because he wanted to change things?

In our time?

- They been doing it all through history.
- In our country?

Kings are killed, Mr. Garrison.
Politics is power, nothing more.

Oh, don't take my word for it.
Don't believe me.

Do your own work,
your own thinking.

The size of this is...

beyond me.

Testify?

- Me?
- Testify.

No chance in hell.

No, I'd be arrested and gagged.

Maybe sent to an institution,
maybe worse. You, too.

I can give you the background.

You have to find the foreground,
the little things.

Keep digging.

Remember, you're the only person to 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.

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 trying to destroy
your credibility.

They already have in many circles
in this town.

Be honest.

Your only chance is to come up
with a case.

Something, anything.

Make arrests,
stir the shitstorm.

Hope to reach a point of critical mass
that'll start a chain reaction

of people coming forward.

Then, the government will crack.

Remember, fundamentally
people are suckers for the truth,

and the truth is on your side,
bubba.

I just hope you get a break.

Mr. Shaw,
sir, you are under arrest,

charged with conspiracy and entering
an agreement with other persons

for the specific purpose of
committing the crime of murder

of President John F. Kennedy.

We have a warrant
to search the premises.

It is my duty to inform you at
this time...

you have the right to remain silent,
you have the right to an attorney.

Name. First, middle, and last.

Clay Lavergne Shaw.

Address?

1313 Dauphine Street, New Orleans.

Mr. Shaw!

Ever use any aliases?

Clay Bertrand.

Mr. Clark,
are you aware of the charges

- filed by District Attorney Garrison?

Yes, Mr. Shaw was included in our
investigation.

There was no connection found.

- At all.
- 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 staff.

Mr. Garrison has presented
absolutely nothing publicly...

which would contradict
our findings.

I know of no fact which would refute
the Commission's conclusion

that Lee Oswald was the lone killer.

What's your reaction
to the chief justice's statement?

Well, I congratulate Mr. Shaw.

Most defendants 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.

You realize that you're
damaging the credibility of the country,

- possibly destroying it?
- Let me ask you...

Let me ask you, is a government worth
preserving when it lies to the people?

- Huh?

It has become a dangerous country, sir,
when you cannot trust anyone anymore,

when you cannot tell the truth.

I say, let justice be done, though
the heavens fall!

The JFK conspiracy,
the case of Jim Garrison.

- Honey, this is all about you!

A team of reporters has learned that
District Attorney Jim Garrison

and his staff have intimidated,
bribed, and even drugged witnesses

in their attempt to prove a conspiracy

involving New Orleans businessman Clay
Shaw in the murder of John F. Kennedy.

John Chancler...

was a cellmate of Willie O'Keefe's

at Angola...

He said he'd be cut loose,
if he copped to the DA's office.

I sent him up for burglary.

- And there's his old buddy Miguel Torres.

We sent him up, too.

They wanted me to say Shaw
was Bertrand.

They said they'd get me a pardon.

Janet Williams

comments on Willie O'Keefe's descriptions

of having met Oswald.

Was he a homosexual?

That's not the Lee I knew.
Absolutely not.

I think Mr. O'Keefe must have seen
someone he thought was Lee Oswald.

I didn't talk to nobody

after the assassination.

I was on drugs at the hospital.

Like I told the FBI, that call
was a figment of my imagination.

Personally,
I think he's quite ill, mentally.

With one half of his mind, he is able to
go out and fabricate evidence,

then by some osmosis, he is able to
convince the other half

that the fabrication is the truth.

Well, I wouldn't worry about it, Liz.

There's only about 20, 30 million people
watching this tonight.

Guess my reputation's all right with
the people watching Laugh-in.

...because in some way,
Mr. Garrison is indebted

and tied to the mob?

The more one looks at Jim Garrison,

the more one finds he has destroyed
reputations,

- spread fear and suspicion,

and, worst of all, exploited this nation's
sorrow and doubt.

- Jim Garrison has said, quote:
- You wanna be in bed with us?

- Sleep with me tonight?
- "Let justice be done,

though the heavens fall."

He seeks the truth, so do we.

What Dr. Martin Luther King
called his beautiful dream,

expressed so dramatically during
the 1963 March on Washington,

was shattered tonight in Memphis,
Tennessee by an assassin's bullet.

Police seem to think that the single shot
came from across the street.

They say that they have found a
Browning automatic rifle,

- fitted with a marksman's scope,

on a sidewalk.

- I'll get it!

Hello?

Hello, is this Jim Garrison's daughter?

Yes.

Virginia or Elizabeth?

Virginia.

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?

- I don't know.
- My God!

- My God, what have they done?

- Yes. Uh-huh.
- It's lynchin' time.

It's lynchin' time.

That sounds fun.

And you get off from school

- Honey, who are you talking to?
- ...at 3:00 everyday?

Okay, Virginia,
that's all I need to know.

- Mommy, I'm gonna be in a beauty contest!

Who is this? Who is this?!

Hello?

Jim, did you enter Virginia
in a beauty contest?

A man just called, he wanted to know
everything, her height, her weight--

It's some crackpot.

Martin Luther King was killed
in Memphis, today.

Honey, your daughter's life's just
been threatened!

Just a crank making calls,
happens a dozen times a day at the office.

Our home, Jim! A kidnapper,
a murderer, who knows!

Jesus Christ, Liz,
only cowards make crank calls!

- How do you know?
- All right? Nothing's gonna happen.

How do you even know what goes on
in this house anymore!

You're too busy making speeches!

Liz--

Getting every crazed Klansman
in Louisiana after us!

- Get a hold of yourself.
- I'm leaving! I'm taking the kids,

- Come on, come on!
- and I'm leaving!

I can't stand it anymore!

- The government wants you to be scared.
- You and your government.

The government wants everybody
to be scared to speak out.

- What's the matter with you?
- They count on it.

- Don't you have any feelings?
- There's nothing to be scared of.

Your own daughter!

What kind of man are you?

I'll take them up to my mother's if it
makes you feel any better, all right?

You spend a week.

- What's a week gonna do?
- I'll change the locks, the phone lines,

I'll even get a bodyguard.
Just get a hold of yourself.

Honey,
before this Kennedy thing,

nothing mattered in this world more
than your children.

The other night Jasper tried to talk to
you, you didn't even notice he was there.

He came to me bawling
his little eyes out.

- I promise, all right?
- He's sensitive, honey.

- I promise I'll make more time for Jasper.
- He needs more from you.

Is it such a chore?

- Goddammit, if I said I'll spend more time
- I don't understand you!

with him, I'll spend more time
with him, all right?

I cannot fight you and the whole
world too, Liz!

I'm not fighting you,
I'm 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?

- I don't wanna see, goddammit!

I'm tired. I've had enough!

You're ruining this man Shaw's life,

you're attacking him because
he's a homosexual!

That's not why I'm attacking him!

Did you ever for once stop to consider
what he was feeling?

You don't believe me? Hmm?

- Oh, I don't know anymore!
- All this time and you never believed me!

I just want to raise our children
and live a normal life!

I want my life back!

Well so do I, goddammit!

I had a life, too, you know.

But you just can't bury your head in
the sand like some goddamn ostrich, Liz!

It's not about our well-being, all right?
It's not about our two cars,

and our TVs
and your kitchen!

It's about our kids growing up in a
shithole of lies, and I'm angry about it!

And my life is fucked
because of it.

And if you can see it that way, Liz,
you'll see that your life is fucked, too.

You never talked to me this way before,
Jim Garrison.

If you don't want to support me, fine,
I can understand that.

But don't start making threats
about taking the children.

I'm not making any threats,
I'm leaving you!

- I'm taking the kids and I'm leaving!
- Go on, then, fine. Get out!

- I am!
- Go hide somewhere, join the rest of them.

- I am!
- They'll tell you I'm crazy.

You'll get plenty of people to tell you
I'm crazy!

You won't have any problems filling out
your divorce papers on me!

But somebody's got to try,
goddammit.

Somebody.

Are we going away, Daddy?

I don't know, Jasper.

Because of Kennedy?

Are the same people gonna kill us,
Papa?

No, Jasper.

Nobody's gonna kill us.

I'm scared.

I don't like it when you
and Mommy fight.

I know, I don't like it either,
honey.

Why do we have to leave?

Don't you love us anymore?

Daddy... Daddy loves both of you,
okay?

And there's nothing wrong with
feeling a little scared, Jasper.

Telling the truth can be a scary
thing sometimes.

It scared President Kennedy,
and he was a brave man.

But if you let yourself be too scared...

then you let the bad guys take over
the country, don't you?

Yeah.

Then everybody gets scared.

Stay with Mom, Papa.

Please?

- Damn. Here's another one.

The US Attorney in Washington declines
to serve our subpoena

on Allen Dulles, Charles Cabell,
CIA Director Richard Helms--

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.

What the hell is going on?

Never before has an extradition request
from this office been refused.

We haven't tried to get
Julia Ann Mercer in here.

No, she could get hurt.

What?

If you believe what's happened
to these other people, no.

Yeah, but she's the best damn witness
we have!

I just don't want to do it, that's all.
Now, what else?

Well, you got your hate mail here.

And your fan mail here.

The bad news is that the IRS requested an
audit of your income from this office.

Well, I expected that
two months ago,

and they're wasting their time.

The bad news is the National Guard
just asked me to resign after 18 years.

Well, maybe
that's the good news.

Never was as good as combat,
anyway.

But this is.

Bill,
any more on Oswald and Shaw?

Uh, yeah, yeah.

They were seen together in Clinton in
early September.

The Civil Rights Movement was
running a voters' registration drive.

Rumor is Shaw, a local boy,
was working on some arms deal

to discredit the civil rights movement.

Nobody really knows
what they were doing there, but...

hell, they stood out like cotton balls.

I got whites and coloreds
saw ‘em, but...

last time I checked, there was nothing
illegal with registering to vote.

We still got the negro junkie,
Vernon Bundy,

who saw 'em talkin' at the seawall
near Lake Pontchartrain.

But, hell, it's tough, boss,
nobody wants to talk about Shaw. He's--

You keep saying--
see, you keep saying that!

- You're not digging!
- I keep saying what?

- You're not digging deep enough.
- I'm not digging?

- You do my job, I'll do your job!

I think Clinton is a breakthrough,
now, all right?

Now, Shaw denies ever knowing
Ferrie or Oswald, right?

Right.

All right, that proves he's a liar.

Keep on it, Bill.

This is interesting.

Oswald went to see the FBI two weeks
before the assassination.

Can I see Special Agent Hosty,
please?

I'm sorry, he's not in.
Can someone else help you?

It seems Special Agent Hosty made
three visits to Janet Williams' house,

supposedly to keep an eye on Marina.

He left a note.

Hosty told a Dallas newspaperman that
it was a warning to him

to stop questioning Marina at home
when Oswald was not present.

She was not a citizen, so possibly he was
threatening to deport her back to Russia.

But what the note really said
no one knows.

- Hosty tore it up,
- Get rid of it!

- and flushed it down the toilet.
- Get rid of it, Hosty.

This is just speculation,
people, but

what if the note was describing the
assassination attempt on JFK?

Come on, people, 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” that much stronger.

Remember the New Orleans meeting
with Agent Quigley

- the day he got arrested?

There, again, Quigley destroyed the notes
from the interview.

I think we can raise the possibility that
Oswald not only was an informant...

but that he may well have been the
original source we have for the telex

dated November 17th,

warning of Kennedy's assassination
in Dallas on November 22nd.

William Walter, the night clerk on duty
in the FBI office here,

he gave me a copy of this,

said 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.

Determined that a militant
revolutionary group

may attempt to assassinate
President Kennedy

on his proposed trip to Dallas,
Texas.

Shortly after the assassination,
Walter says

that the telex was removed from all
the files in all the cities,

as an obvious embarrassment
to the Bureau.

I believe Oswald was sending
information through Hosty.

I have a hunch that,
from the get go,

Oswald had infiltrated this group,
probably Cubans, right-wing extremists.

- He was told to be at the book depository

that day by his handlers, to either
prevent the assassination

or to take part in it.

I mean, they coulda told him
anything,

either they were gonna close down
the plotters

- that day,

or they were gonna simulate an attack on
Kennedy to whip up public opinion

so that Kennedy would have to reverse
his policies on communism.

It doesn't really matter what
they told him.

- He was under orders.

He was a foot soldier.

- And, uh...

You can't miss.

He is a dead duck.

I don't buy it, chief.

Why would the FBI cover it up?

A telex that disappears from every single
FBI office in this country?

There's a word, Bill.

Orders.

Or a cover up!

Jesus, Bill, don't you have enough proof
of the FBI's complicity yet?

Maybe I have a little more respect for
this country's institutions--

- My God!
- than you do, Susie!

How much more do you need?

You tell me how the hell you gonna keep
a conspiracy going on between

the mob, the CIA, the FBI,
and Army Intelligence,

and who the hell knows what else,

when you know for a fact you can't
keep a secret in this room

between 12 people.

We got leaks everywhere!

I mean, we are going to trial here,
y'all!

What the hell do we really got?

Oswald, Ruby, Banister, Ferrie
are dead!

Shaw, I mean maybe he's an agent,
I don't know,

but as a covert operator in my book
he is wide open for blackmail

‘cause of his homosexuality.

Shaw's our toehold, Bill. Now, I don't
know exactly what he is or where he fits,

and I don't really care.

I do know he's lying through his
teeth and I'm not gonna let go of him.

Yeah, and for those reasons, you're going
to trial against Clay Shaw, chief?

Well, you're gonna lose!

We should be investigating our mafia
leads here in New Orleans.

Now, I can buy that a hell of a lot easier
than I can the government.

Ruby is all mob, knows Oswald,
sets him up.

Hoffa, Trafficante, Marcello, they hire
some guns to do Kennedy,

and the government doesn't want to open up
a whole can of worms there because

it used the mob to try to get
to Castro.

You know, Castro being assassinated
by the mob, by us,

it sounds pretty wild to
John Q. Citizen.

So they close the book on JFK.

Makes perfect sense to me.

I don't doubt their involvement, Bill,
but at a low level.

- Oh, come on!
- 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?

I mean, could the mob get the Warren
Commission appointed to cover it up?

Could the mob wreck the autopsy?

I mean, could the mob influence
the national media to go to sleep?

And since when has the mob used
anything but. 38s for hits up close?

The mob wouldn't have the guts or the
power for something of this magnitude.

Assassins need payrolls,

schedules, times, orders.

This was a military-style ambush
from start to finish.

This was a coup d'état with Lyndon
Johnson waiting in the wings.

Oh, okay, so now you're saying Lyndon
Johnson was involved?

- Huh? The President of the United States?
- I know this, Bill.

Lyndon Johnson got one billion dollars
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?

Huh? Why are our witnesses
being bought off and murdered?

Why are federal agencies blocking our
extraditions and subpoenas,

- when we were never blocked before?
- I don't know!

I don't-- maybe there's some rogue element
in the government or something.

- Oh, come on!
- With a full-blown conspiracy

to cover it up?

You ever read your Shakespeare, Bill?

Yeah, I do.

Julius Caesar.

"Brutus and Cassius, they, too,
are honorable men."

Who killed Caesar?

Ten, 12 senators.

All's it takes is one Judas,
Bill.

A few people on the inside.

Pentagon, CIA--

This is Louisiana, chief.

I mean, how the hell do you know
who your daddy is?

- ‘Cause your mama told you so.

You are way out there taking a crap
in the wind, boss,

and I, for one, am not going along
on this one!

Chief, I've had my doubts all along
about Bill.

Been fighting us all along.

Well, we need him back.

Boss, Broussard wasted a whole damn month
trying to prove that mob boys,

like Jack Ruby and Brading,
are hooked up with Hunt Oil.

I don't trust the guy.

I will not hear this, gentlemen. Now,
I value Bill as much as any person here.

I think it's time we all made room for
someone else's ideas, including me.

Maybe Oswald is what everyone says
he is and I'm just...

I'm just plain dumb about it.

I've seen him copying files,
leaving here late at night.

I just plain don't trust--

Maybe you two didn't hear
what I said.

Now, I said I will not tolerate infighting
among the staff!

I'm afraid I cannot work with
Bill Broussard anymore.

Are you giving me an ultimatum,
Lou?

What?

- Are you giving me an ultimatum?

Well,
if that's what you want to call it.

You know, I never thought
it would come to this.

I guess I am.

Well, I will not have any damned
ultimatums put to me, Lou.

I'll accept your resignation.

Well, you sure got it.

You are one stubborn
son of a bitch.

And you're making
a hell of a mistake.

Boss,
aren't you being a little hard?

No, I don't think I am, Susie.

Anyone else?

And now, Jerry, here's Jim Garrison,

the District Attorney of New Orleans,
Louisiana.

Welcome, District Attorney
Garrison.

So, you're investigating the murder of
President Kennedy.

You know, I must say, we have heard
some strange things

coming out of your office
in New Orleans.

First we heard that the Cuban
exiles killed the president.

Then, the mob.

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 didn't conspire to kill
the president?

Let's just say this, Jerry.

I've stopped beating my wife.

Maybe you should ask Lyndon Johnson.
We know he has some answers.

Now, there have been a number of reports
in reputable news media,

Time, Newsweek, our own NBC,

that you've gone way beyond the legal
means available to a prosecutor,

that you've intimidated-- even drugged--
witnesses,

bribed them,

urged them to commit perjury.

Do you have a response to this?

Your faith in the veracity of the major
media is touching, Jerry.

It indicates that the Age of Innocence
is not yet over.

But ask yourself...

If we'd learned on November 22nd, 1963
that the Premier of Russia had been shot

from a Moscow office building
by a lonely, capitalist sympathizer,

who, himself, was then liquidated by a
patriotic Muscovite within 48 hours

while surrounded by armed police,

I think it would be pretty apparent to any
free-thinking person

that a coup d'état and a transfer of power
had just taken place in the Soviet Union.

- And we would not be asking questions

or attacking Jim Garrison
or his record.

We would,
in a free-thinking society,

be asking hard questions about
why he was killed

and what forces were opposed to him.

Jim, you know, there are some people
who might say you're paranoid.

Maybe I'd better show you
some pictures,

so you can begin to understand
what it is I'm talking about.

These are arrests.

Now, these arrests were
photographed...

minutes after the assassination.

Now, they were never shown
to the American public.

Jim, I'm sorry, these pictures
can't show up on TV.

- Well, sure they can.
- No, I'm sorry, they can't.

No, the--

- The camera can pick these up.
- Jim, I'm sorry.

They can't. We have libel laws,
you know.

Those men you just saw were arrested in
Dallas minutes after the assassination.

They were never seen again.

No record of arrest,

- no mugshot, no fingerprint.
- Jim, hold that thought.

- We're gonna be back,
- They got away--

right after these commercials.

- Who were they?

Chief!

Bill, what the hell
are you doing here?

I'm sorry about the other day,
chief.

I didn't mean to walk out
on you like that.

Bill, you came all the way
to tell me the obvious?

No, boss, look.

I just got word there's gonna be
an attempt to kill you

somewhere between here
and New Orleans.

A mob guy was brought down
by Shaw from Canada.

- This is serious, chief.

You're gonna need a bodyguard
tonight in Phoenix.

Bill,
when you were in the Army,

did you have a chance to find out
what an order meant?

- Hmm?
- Yes.

You happen to remember my ordering
everyone on the staff not to participate

in passing on these endless rumors about
how somebody is gonna be killed?

Yes, I do, boss, but this--

No, there is no "but."

There is no "but" in a military
situation, Broussard!

I don't appreciate your dumping this
paranoid garbage on me.

And I don't appreciate your inability
to follow a simple order,

especially when it means I'm personally
gonna end up paying for your flight

back to New Orleans.

Let's get you a ticket.

Boss, I'm sorry.

- I'm just looking out for you.
- Thank you.

Get a receipt.

Come on, come on.
He's out of here.

Jim, where are you going?

It's me, Samuel.

Hey!

- How long were you in that restroom?
- None of your goddamn business.

Jim, bad news,

Bill's turned.

I think he's given everything we've got
to the feds.

We studied the memos and there was
nothing there, chief.

Nothing.

We went to confront him and the landlady
said the son of a bitch just took off.

- Left everything.

It's unbelievable. I'm sorry.

Mattie, could you get Mr. Garrison
a drink, please?

- Something sure scared him.

Well, Bill doesn't scare that easy.
Somebody got to his thinking.

He was never that good a thinker.

He sure fooled us.

No, no, Numa, don't turn it down.

- Turn it up, I want to see this.

Well, you know what's
happening, he's winning.

Senator
Eugene McCarthy of Minnesota.

He'll never make it.

If he wins, they'll kill him.

He'll stop the war.

They'll kill him before they let him
be president.

Thank you, Mattie.

Boss, with Broussard,
they have everything.

All our witnesses,
our strategies for the trial.

We got to double check
his work.

There could be false leads.
We can't go to trial.

We don't have a prayer!

I don't think so, Al.

I have to agree with Al, boss.

This is not one
we're gonna come out on.

You remember the Hemingway story,
The Old Man and the Sea?

The old fisherman manages
to catch this great fish,

a fish so huge that he has to tie it
to the side of the boat

in order to get it back in.

But by the time it reached
the shore,

the fish had long since been picked
apart by sharks.

Nothing was left but the skeleton.

And that's what's gonna
happen to us.

Then what'd we go to all this
trouble for, boss?

It's a means to an end.

Now, this war has two fronts.

In a 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, 30 years

for the truth to come out.

But at least we're gonna strike
the first blow.

What if you're wrong?

I never thought for a second
I was, honey.

- Liz.

Will you come to the trial?

I don't think so.

- CBS News has projected

Senator Robert Kennedy the winner of
the crucial California primary.

And that is what has been
going on within the United States

over the period of the last three years

the division, the violence,

the disenchantment
with our society,

the divisions, whether it's between
blacks and whites,

between the poor and
the more affluent,

or between age groups or on
the war in Vietnam,

that we can start to work together.
We are a great country,

an unselfish country,
and a compassionate country.

And I intend to make that
my basis for running...

Senator Kennedy has been shot!

We don't know how serious it is, but we do
know Senator Kennedy has been shot!

Get the gun! Get the gun!

Stay away from the gun!

They killed him, honey.

Hmm?

He won, and they killed
Robert Kennedy.

- No.
- They shot him down.

Oh, my God.

Both of them?

Both brothers?

You were right.

It hasn't ended.

For the first time...

I feel really scared.

I wish I could've loved you more.

Sometimes I feel like I didn't ever
love you

or the children enough.

I'm sorry.

Please rise.

Oyez, oyez, oyez!

The Criminal District Court for
Orleans Parish, Section H,

is now in session.

Honorable Judge Edward A. Haggerty,
Junior presiding.

Please be seated.

That's Clay Bertrand.

That's the man I saw at
David Ferrie's.

That's who you say you saw,

a confessed homosexual,

convicted of pandering
and solicitation,

a man who has lied
about everything,

and now wants to be taken
at his word.

It was that man right there.
Yes, sir.

He was at the Pontchartrain wall,

with the man
who shot the president.

I remember him ‘cause of his limp.

A heroin addict,
injecting himself at the wall,

barely conscious
of his surroundings.

Is that the man?

That was the man, right there.

He dropped Oswald off
on the voters' 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.

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.

It was just a figment of my imagination.

The cat's stewing you, the oyster's
shucking you, I told him.

You got the right ta-ta,
but the wrong ho-ho.

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.

Mr. Goldberg,

you claim that you met David Ferrie
and Clay Shaw on a vacation trip

from your accounting business in New York.

You had drinks...

and, under the influence, discussed
killing Kennedy, is that not so?

Yes, I did.

Is it not also true that you
fingerprinted your daughter

when she went to Louisiana
State University?

Yes, sir, I did.

And is it not also true that you
fingerprinted her when she returned

at the end of the semester?

Yes, I did.

Why?

Well, I wanted to make sure that she was
the same girl I sent away.

He was one of Broussard's
witnesses, chief.

He was totally sane when we took
his affidavit.

Your Honor, we call police officer
Aloysius Habighorst to the stand.

I'm going to have to ask the jury to
leave the courtroom.

Gentlemen, will you please rise

- What?
- and follow me?

Name. First, middle, and last.

Clay Lavergne Shaw.

The defendant did not have his lawyer
present when asked!

Jesus, Ed, from time immemorial, it's
been standard booking procedure

- to ask an alias, you know that!
- I call ‘em as I see ‘em!

- Ever use any aliases?
- Clay Bertrand.

There's no constitutional requirement
that says a lawyer

- has to be present for routine questions!
- I'm ruling it inadmissible!

- I'm ruling it inadmissible.
- Well, hell, Ed, that's our case!

If that's your case,
you didn't have a case.

I wouldn't believe anything
Habighorst said, anyway.

I can't believe you're saying this
in the courtroom.

Well, I am saying it.
Bring in the jury.

Oswald?

No, I did not.

Ever called Dean Andrews?

No, I did not.

And have you ever met
David Ferrie?

No.

Wouldn't even know what
he looked like,

if it hadn't been for the pictures
I'd been shown.

Did you ever use the alias
Clay Bertrand?

No.

I did not.

Thank you, Mr. Shaw.

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 that my office is
charging Clay Shaw

with outright perjury on the 15 answers he
has given in this courtroom today,

not one word of truth
having escaped his lips--

You're out of order, Jim Boy,
now sit down!

To prove there was a conspiracy
involving Clay Shaw,

we must first prove that 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--

The American public
has not seen that film

because it has been kept locked away in
a vault for the last five years,

in the Time-Life Building
in New York City.

There's a reason for that.

Watch.

Picture speaks a thousand
words, doesn't it.

The Warren Commission thought they had
an open-and-shut case.

Three bullets, one assassin.

But two unpredictable things happened that
day that made it virtually impossible.

One, the eight-millimeter home movie
taken by Abraham Zapruder

while standing near the grassy knoll.

And two,

the third wounded man,
James Tague,

who was nicked by a fragment

while standing near the
Triple Underpass.

The time frame of 5.6 seconds
established by the Zapruder film,

left no possibility of
a fourth shot.

So the shot or fragment

that left a superficial wound on
Tague's cheek,

had to come from one of
the three bullets

fired from the sixth floor
of the depository.

That leaves just two bullets.

And we know one of them was the fatal
head shot that killed Kennedy.

So, now, a single bullet remains.

A single bullet now has to account
for the remaining

seven wounds in Kennedy
and Connally.

But rather than admit to a conspiracy
or investigate further,

the Warren 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.

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,

wound number two,

where it waits 1.6 seconds,

presumably in midair,
where it turns right,

then left,

right, then left,

and continues into Connally's body
at the rear of his right armpit,

wound number three.

The bullet then heads
downward,

at an angle of 27 degrees,
shattering Connally's fifth rib,

and exiting from the right side
of his chest,

wound number four.

The bullet then turns right,

and reenters Connally's body
at his right wrist,

would number five.

Shattering the radius bone,

the bullet then exits Connally's wrist,
wound number six,

makes a dramatic U-turn,

and buries itself into Connally's
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.

That's some bullet.

Anyone who's been in combat will tell you
never in the history of gunfire

has there been a bullet this
ridiculous.

Yet the government says
it can prove it,

with some fancy physics in a nuclear
laboratory.

Course they can.

Theoretical physics can prove that
an elephant can hang from a cliff

with his tail tied to a daisy.

But use your eyes,
your common sense.

The Army Wound Ballistics experts
at Edgewood Arsenal

fired some comparison bullets.

Not one of them looked anything
like this.

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.

Seven wounds, gentlemen.

Tough skin, dense bones.

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
that there was a fourth shot

and a second rifleman.

And if there was
a second rifleman...

then, by definition,

- there had to be a conspiracy,

which we believe involves
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.

Key witnesses that day,

Charles Brehm,
a combat vet.

- Right behind, Jean Hill and Mary Moorman.
- Hey, Mr. President!

S. M. Holland, Richard Dodd, James
Simmons standing on the overpass.

J. C. Price,
overlooking the whole Plaza.

William Newman, father of two children,
who hit the deck

- on the north side of EIm.

Abraham Zapruder.

Each of these key 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!

Dr. Peters.

There was a large,
seven-centimeter opening

in the right
occipitoparietal area.

A considerable portion of the brain
was missing there.

Almost a fifth or possibly a quarter
of the back of the head

had been blasted out,

- along with the underlying brain tissue.
- Father, what is the proper time to

declare one dead for the
last rites?

There was also a large
fragment of skull

attached to a flap of scalp.

The exit hole in the rear of his head
measured about 120 millimeters,

or five inches across.

Not one of the civilian doctors
who examined the president

at Parkland Hospital

regarded his throat wound as anything
but a wound of entry.

But then the body was illegally moved
to Washington for the autopsy.

Because when a coup d'état
has occurred,

- Hold it!
- there's a big difference...

- between an autopsy that is performed

- by civilian doctors,
- You're not taking him!

and one that is performed by military
doctors under order.

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.

Sustained.

On the plane, of course,

Lee Harvey Oswald's guilt
was announced

by the White House Situation Room
to all passengers

before any kind of investigation
had started,

the "angry, lone nut" solution beginning
to take its shape.

Objection, Your Honor!

Sustained.

Mr. Garrison,
will you please bottle the acid!

The three Bethesda Naval
Hospital doctors

picked by the military
left something to be desired

insomuch as none of them had any
experience with combat gunfire wounds.

Through their autopsy, we've been
able to justify eight wounds

- from just two bullets.

Three to Kennedy, five to Connally,

- Look what I found on the floor.
- one of them being the magic bullet.

- FBI?
- Here.

Colonel Finck, are you saying
someone told you not to dissect the neck?

I was told that the family wanted
the examination of the head.

Oh, Christ.

Looks like half his brain
is gone.

Let's weigh it.

653 grams.

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?

- Obvious tracheotomy...
- Well, I heard Dr. Humes stating that...

That's enough, that's enough.
It's duly noted.

Okay, let's check the
back, gentlemen.

All right.

There's a considerable amount of
spinal fluid coming out of his right ear.

I can feel the end of the
wound with my finger.

That won't be necessary,
Commander.

- Watch the ear, watch the ear.
- Yes, sir.

Shot in the back.
Cheap crime.

- He said...
- 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 a lot to ask people
for their names and who they are.

But you were a qualified
pathologist.

Was this Army general a qualified
pathologist?

- No.

No,
but you took his orders?

Yes.

- So he was directing the autopsy?
- No.

- No?
- No, no, because there were others.

There were others?

There were others.
There were admirals.

- Oh, there were admirals.
- Oh, yes.

And when you are a lieutenant colonel
in the Army, you just follow orders.

It is not our business to discuss this
with anyone outside this room.

As I recall it was Admiral Kenney,
the surgeon general of the Navy.

We were specifically told
not to discuss the case.

A lot of people that day were deciding
what was private,

none of the American people's
business.

The chief pathologist,
Commander Humes,

by his own admission
voluntarily burned his autopsy notes.

President Johnson orders the
blood-soaked limousine,

filled with bullet holes
and clues,

to be immediately washed
and rebuilt.

He sends John Connally's bloody suit
right to the cleaners,

The Justice Department denied this office
access to the autopsy photos.

And when we finally get
a court order

to examine President Kennedy's brain
in the National Archives,

in the hopes of finding from
which direction the bullet came from,

we're told by the government...

your government...

that the president's brain has
disappeared.

That's not all that's disappeared,
gentlemen.

With it, I think,
the concept of justice.

Objection, Your Honor!

Not only has Mr. Garrison insulted
the federal government,

- but he is also introducing--
- Overruled! Overruled!

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 sixth floor
of the depository.

Now, they were refurbishing the floors
in the depository that week,

which allowed unknown workmen
in and out of the building.

They move quickly into position, just
minutes before the shooting.

The second spotter on the radio
talking to the two other teams

has the best overall view,
"the God spot.”

- B Team,

one rifleman and one spotter with a
headset and access to the building,

moves into the low floor of the
Dal-Tex Building.

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.

Probably two to three more men are down
in the crowd on Elm.

Ten to 12 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,
they've practiced on moving targets.

They're ready.

Kennedy's motorcade makes a turn from Main
onto Houston.

- It's gonna be a turkey shoot.

- They don't shoot him coming up Houston,

which is the easiest shot for a single
shooter in the book depository!

They wait.

They wait till he gets to the killing zone
between three rifles.

Kennedy makes the final turn from
Houston onto EIm,

- slowing down...

- to some 11 miles an hour.

The shooters across Dealey Plaza tighten,
taking their aim,

waiting for the radio to say,

"green, green!"

or "abort, abort!"

The first shot rings out.

Sounding like a backfire, it misses the
car completely.

Frame 161, Kennedy stops waving as he
hears something.

Connally's head turns
slightly to the right.

Frame 193, the second shot hits Kennedy
in the throat from the front.

- Frame 225,

the president emerging from
behind the road sign.

You can see that he's obviously been hit,
raising his arms to his throat.

- The third shot, frame 232,

hits Kennedy in the back, pulling 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.

Connally is turning here now.

Frame 238, the fourth shot.

It misses Kennedy,

- and takes Connally in the back.

This is the shot that proves there were
two rifles.

Connally yells out,
"My God, they're going to kill us all!"

Somewhere around this time now, another
shot that misses the car completely

- strikes James Tague

down by the underpass.

- The car brakes.

The sixth and fatal shot,

frame 313, takes Kennedy in the head
from the front.

- This is the key shot.

The president going back
and to his left,

shot from the front and right,

totally inconsistent with the shot
from the depository.

- Again, back and to the left.

Back... and to the left.

Back... and to the left.

Back... and to the left.

So what happens then?

Pandemonium.

- Get the hell out of here...

The shooters quickly disassemble their
various weapons,

all except the Oswald rifle.

Patrolman Joe Smith rushes into the
parking lot behind the picket fence.

- He smells gunpowder.

The character produced credentials
from his pocket

- that showed him to be Secret Service.

Let's see your ID.

- You see anybody else up here?
- No.

Keep looking!

So I accepted that,
and let him go

and continued to 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.

At least 12 other individuals were taken
into custody by Dallas police.

No record of their arrests.

Men acting like hoboes were being
pulled off trains,

marched through Dealey Plaza,
photographed,

and yet there is no record
for their arrests.

Men identifying themselves as
Secret Service agents

were all over the place!

But who was impersonating them?

And where was
Lee Harvey Oswald?

Around 12:15,

on her way out of the building
to see the motorcade,

secretary Carolyn Arnold sees Oswald in
the second floor snack room,

where he said he went for a Coke.

He was in a booth on the right side
of the room.

Um...

He was by himself,
as usual,

and appeared
to be having his lunch.

I didn't speak to him, but I recognized
him clearly.

At the same time,
Bonnie Ray Williams

is supposedly eating
his chicken lunch

on the sixth floor.

He's there until 12:15,
maybe 12:20.

He sees nobody.

Arnold Rowland's down on the street,
he's looking up,

he sees two men
in the sixth floor window,

presumably after Bonnie Ray Williams
had finished his lunch and left.

- John Powell,

a prisoner on the sixth floor
of the Dallas county jail, sees them.

Quite a few of us guys saw them.

Everybody was hollering and yelling
and all that.

- We thought they was security guys.

If Oswald was the assassin,

he was certainly pretty nonchalant
about moving himself into position.

Later, he told Dallas police he was
in the second-floor snack room.

Probably told to wait there by his handler
for a phone call.

But the phone call never came.

A maximum 90 seconds after
Kennedy is shot,

patrolman Marrion Baker
runs into Oswald

in that second-floor
lunchroom.

Hey, you!

Do you know this man?
Is he an employee?

Yes, he is.

The president's been shot!

But what the Warren Commission
would have us believe

is that after firing three 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,

then shows up,
cool and calm,

on the second floor in front of
Patrolman Baker.

All this within a maximum of 90 seconds
of the shooting.

Hey, you!

Do you know this man?
Is he an employee?

Yes, he is.
The president's been shot!

Is he out of breath?

According to Baker,
absolutely not.

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 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 on
the second floor,

he strolls out the more distant
front exit,

- where the cops have gathered.

Oddly, considering that three shots have
been fired from there,

nobody seals the book depository for
10 more minutes.

Oswald slips out, as do several other
employees.

Of course, when he realized something
had gone wrong

and the president had been killed,

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 Oswald
for the very first time.

So Oswald returns to his rooming
house around 1 p.m.,

- a half hour after the assassination.

- A man shot the president!

He puts on his jacket, grabs his
.38 revolver,

- and leaves at 1:04.

- Earlene Roberts, the housekeeper,

says she heard two beeps on a car horn,
that two uniformed cops

pulled up to the house
where 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.

And though no one actually saw him
walking or jogging,

the government says Oswald covered
that distance.

Now,
giving the government

- the benefit of the doubt,
- Sir?

- Excuse me, sir?
- Oswald would have had to jog

a mile in six to 11 minutes

- and then commit the murder,

then reverse his direction

and walk three-fifths of a mile to
the Texas Theatre

and arrive sometime
before 1:30.

It's also a useful conclusion,
after all.

Why else would Oswald
kill Tippit?

Unless he'd just shot
the president,

- and feared arrest?

Domingo Benavides,

- the closest witness to the shooting,

refused to identify Oswald as the killer
and was never taken to a lineup.

Acquilla Clemons saw the killer with
another man,

and says they went off in
separate directions.

Mrs. Clemons was never taken to a lineup
or to the Warren Commission.

At the scene of the crime,

Officer J. M. Poe marks the shells
with his initials

- to record the chain of evidence.

Those initials are not on the three
cartridge cases,

which the Warren Commission
present to him.

As early as 12:44, only 14 minutes
after the assassination,

the police radio put out a description
matching Oswald's size

- and build.

Oswald is next seen by a 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 dollars
in his pocket,

he does not buy the
75-cent ticket.

And Brewer has the cashier
call the police.

- In response to the cashier's call,

at least 30 officers in a fleet of
patrol cars

descend on the movie theater.

Now, this has to be the most remarkable
example of police intuition

- since the Reichstag fire.

- And I don't buy it. They knew.

Someone knew Oswald was
going to be there.

Brewer helpfully leads the cops
into the theater

and from the stage points
Oswald out.

There he is.

Sir, can I get you to stand up,
please?

- This is it!

Kill the president, will you?

I am not resisting arrest!

I am not resisting arrest!

The police have their man.

It's already been decided...

in Washington.

By the time he is brought out
from the theater,

a large crowd is waiting to scream
at him.

Lee Oswald must've felt like Josef K
in Kafka's The Trial.

He's never told the reasons
for his arrest,

he doesn't know the unseen forces
ranging against him.

By the time he reached police
headquarters,

he is booked for murdering
Tippit.

- No legal counsel is provided,

no record made of
the long questioning.

By the time the sun rises
the next morning,

he is booked for murdering
the president.

The whole country,
fueled by the media,

assumes he is guilty.

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 an
underground garage

by one of his inside men on the
Dallas police force,

and when he is ready,
Lee Harvey Oswald

- is brought out like a sacrificial lamb

and nicely disposed of,
as an enemy of the people.

Oswald!

Who grieves
for Lee Harvey Oswald?

Buried in a cheap grave under
the name "Oswald"?

Nobody.

Within minutes,

false statements and press leaks about
Lee Oswald circulate the globe.

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 JFK

confuse the eye and confound
the understanding.

Hitler always said...

"the bigger the lie,
the more people will believe it."

Lee Harvey 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,

Martin Luther King,
men whose

commitment to change
and peace

would make them dangerous to men who
are committed to war, would follow,

also killed by such lonely,
crazed men,

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 more political murders,
disguised as heart attacks,

suicides,

cancers,
drug overdoses,

how many airplane
and car crashes will occur

before they are exposed for
what they are?

"Treason doth never prosper,”
wrote an English poet.

What's the reason?

Well, if it prosper,
none dare call it treason.

The American public has yet to see
the Zapruder film.

Why?

The American public has yet to see
the real X-rays and photographs

of the autopsy.

Why?

There are hundreds of documents that could
help prove this conspiracy.

Why are they being 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 always been

"national security.”

What kind of "national security”
do we have

when we have been robbed of our
leaders?

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.

Fascism.

I submit to you that what
took place

on November 22nd, 1963

was a coup d'état.

Its most direct
and tragic result

was a reversal of President Kennedy's
commitment to withdraw from Vietnam.

A war is the biggest business in America,
worth 80 billion dollars a year.

President Kennedy was murdered
by a conspiracy

that was planned in advance at
the highest levels of our government,

and it was 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

including J. Edgar Hoover and
Lyndon Johnson,

whom I consider accomplices
after the fact.

The assassination reduced the president
to a transient official.

His job,
his assignment,

is to speak as often as possible of
this nation's desire for peace

while he acts as a business agent in
the Congress

for the military and their hardware
manufacturers.

Now, some people say
I'm crazy.

Southern caricature seeking
higher office.

Well, there is a simple way to determine
if I am paranoid.

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 the 51 CIA documents

pertaining to Lee Harvey 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

or distressed to face this reality,

or because you might possibly
lynch those involved,

you cannot see these documents for
another 75 years.

I'm in my early 40s,

so I'll have shuffled off this
mortal coil by then,

but I'm already telling my
eight-year-old son

to keep himself
physically fit,

so that one glorious
September morning

in the year 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.

Hell, it may become a
generational affair,

with questions passed down
father to son,

mother to daughter.

That someday, somewhere

someone may find out
the damn truth.

We better.

We better, or we might,
just as well, build ourselves

another government...

like the Declaration
of Independence says to,

when the old one ain't
working, just--

just a little farther out West.

An American naturalist wrote:

"A patriot must always be ready to
defend his country...

against its government."

I would hate to be in your shoes
today.

You have a lot to think about.

You've seen much hidden evidence
the American public has never seen.

You know, going back to when
we were children,

I think that most of us in this courtroom
thought that

justice came into being
automatically,

that virtue was its own reward,
that--

that good would triumph
over evil.

But as we get older, we know this
just isn't true.

Individual human beings have to
create justice,

and this is not easy...

because the truth often poses
a threat to power,

and one often has to fight power at
great risk to themselves.

People like S. M. Holland,

Lee Bowers,

Jean Hill,
Willie O'Keefe.

They've all taken that risk.
They've all come forward.

I have here some 8,000 dollars in
these letters sent--

sent to my office from all over
the country.

Quarters, dimes, dollar bills from
housewives,

plumbers, car salesmen, teachers,
invalids.

These are 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 still belongs
to us,

as long as the people have 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 it--

if we cannot respect the hearts of
these people, then this is

not the country in which I was born in,
and it is certainly not

the country that I want
to die in.

Tennyson wrote:

"Authority forgets a dying king."

This was never more true than for
John F. Kennedy,

whose murder was probably
one of the most terrible moments...

in the history of our country.

You the people, the jury system,
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 dying king.

Show this world...

that 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.

It's up to you.

Has the jury reached a verdict?

Yes, we have, Your Honor.

Please hand the verdict to the clerk.

Will the defendant please rise?

The clerk will now read
the verdict.

New Orleans, Louisiana.
March 1st, 1969.

We, the jury, find the defendant,
Clay Shaw,

not guilty.

- Thank you, thank you.
- Wonderful.

Congratulations!

We're gonna go fishing
tomorrow!

We believe there was a conspiracy,

but whether Clay Shaw was a part of it
is another kettle of fish.

There's Jim! There's Jim!

Mr. Garrison, the American media
is reporting this

as a full vindication of the Warren
Commission.

Do you agree?

All I think it proves is you cannot
run an investigation,

in the light of day, even questioning
the intelligence operations

of the United States
government.

We understand that
the morning paper

will call for your resignation,
that you're unfit to hold office,

that you've ruined
Clay Shaw's reputation.

Mr. Garrison,
are you gonna resign?

Hell, no.

I'm gonna run again.

And I'm gonna win,
thank you.

Who do you plan to
persecute next, Mr. Garrison?

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 the country.

- Hey, there's Clay! There's Clay Shaw!

Mr. Shaw, how does it feel to be
acquitted?

It's been exhausting,
I must say.

What will you do now,
Mr. Shaw?

I should go home and cook
some étouffée.

Do you think Garrison
will be back for a second round?

I'm sure he will.