The Passenger (The Passenger, #1)(106)

You think that he was shot with a fifty caliber?

No. And I probably dont think he was shot at some great distance. The farther away the sniper was stationed—in front of the car if he was—the more the windshield would come into play to block his shot. Anyway, the reason that Oswald said he was a patsy was because he found himself left to wander around, take a bus, go to a movie. Which I suppose was a designated backup meeting place. Waiting for a ride that was never coming. And if the ride wasnt coming then what was coming? Hence the shooting of police officer Tippit. Which is otherwise inexplicable. It may be inexplicable anyway. But even before that Oswald had seen something in the telescopic sight of his go-to-hell rifle that must have been extraordinary to him. The sight of the President’s head exploding just as he was about to pull the trigger for the third time. Find me an instance of a man saying that he was a patsy who wasnt one. Anyway, the notion that anyone would conspire with a halfwit like Oswald to actually assassinate a sitting president is ludicrous on the face of it. They didnt expect that he would even hit Kennedy. That was just a fluke.

Where did you learn about guns?

I never knew much about guns until I got interested in the assassination. Then it took me about two days to learn everything. You could probably do it in one.

And the chap who set the whole thing up is having dinner with us. Why isnt this a dangerous thing to know?

It’s pretty much an open secret. In some circles at least.

In some circles.

Yes.

Kline drained his cup and set it back in the saucer.

Are you ready?

I’m ready.

In the parkinglot Kline started to open the door of the car and then he stopped. He leaned with his elbows on the roof. How old are you?

Thirty-seven.

Yeah. I’ve got ten years on you. You asked me one time what I would do if I was in your shoes and I think I said something to the effect that I didnt know because I wasnt. But have you really thought about the practical issues of your situation? I have a feeling that the shape of your interior life is something you believe somehow exempts you from other considerations. Are you aware of the fact that you can go to jail? Are going, in fact?

Yes.

You cant work. In this country. You have no friends. What I think is that if I were you I would be wondering what was keeping me here. Or why I didnt give some thought to changing my identity. If you dont have the eighteen hundred dollars I’ll front it to you.

I’ve got some money.

Well. In that case the position you’ve taken looks more or less jackassical.

He stepped back and opened the door. It’s open, he said. This is one parkinglot where you dont have to lock your car.



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He called Debussy in the morning but she didnt answer. He called the bar and Josie did answer. She said that the Feds came in to check on him about every two or three weeks. That’s what she called them. The Feds.

What did you tell them?

Told them the truth. That we hadnt seen hide nor hair. They wanted to know who your friends were but I said that as far as I knew you didnt have any. No surprise there, I said. A bigger son of a bitch never wore shoeleather.

You just sort of kept to the facts.

You got a few pieces of mail here.

I’ll send somebody for it.

What the fuck have you done anyways?

I dont know.

Rosie said she thought you’d gone to Cosby.

It may come to that. Thanks.

You take care.

He hung up the phone and went uptown to the Napoleon. When he walked in Borman was behind the bar. The place was empty and Borman was at the cash register counting money. Western watched him. One for you and one for the house.

Borman looked up and located him in the backbar mirror. Bobby boy, he said. Sit your ass down.

Western sat at the bar. Borman shut the cash drawer and came over. What are you drinking?

Club soda.

You got it.

He turned and tipped down a glass and reached and scooped it into the icebin and stood it under the soda faucet and pulled the handle.

I went lookin for you up at the Seven Seas. They said Bobby who?

He set the glass in front of Western. Please tell me they threw your ass out of there.

There’s a bug in my glass.

Borman bent and squinted. Yeah. I think he’s dead. Just dont drink all the way down.

Okay.

Western pushed the glass aside. How long have you been here?

Couple of weeks.

Where’s the widow woman?

She keeps threatening to show up. I dont know, Bobby. I’m of two minds about this shit.

Two minds.

Yeah. I aint sure I’m cut out for domestic bliss.

Probably not. When have you seen Sheddan?

I havent see him since the funeral.

Since what funeral?

Sheddan’s funeral.

John’s dead?

He looked dead to me. They had him in a coffin.

When was this?

I dont know. Three weeks ago maybe.

You went to his funeral?

You think I’d have missed that? You didnt know, did you.

No.

Sorry, Bobby.

Did a lot of people come?

To the funeral? Sure they did. Give them what they want and they’ll come in droves. All those old Knoxville hustlers. Most of them didnt look all that much better than John.