The Bishop's Pawn (Cotton Malone #13)(39)
This one bore no signature.
It came from higher up down to Jansen below.
The newly honed investigatory part of my brain said this was all a scam, played out by Juan Lopez Valdez to get his hands on a coin worth millions of dollars. What had Reverend Foster said to the guy in the cemetery? Valdez is apparently in financial trouble. That’s why he wanted to deal for the coin with his files. But the lawyer part of my brain was not convinced. And I could see that Coleen shared my doubts.
“These memos are for CIP eyes only,” I said. “That has to mean Counter Intelligence Program. COINTELPRO.”
I wondered if the CIP supervisor referred to in the memo headings was Oliver himself. The man had admitted he was in command back then.
We thumbed through more of the images, killing a little more time until darkness fully enveloped us. Then we’d find a way off this island.
One page caught our interest.
Longer than the others.
More detailed.
From Jansen.
March 16, 1968
Federal Bureau of Investigation
Internal Security-C
For CIP Supervisor Only
GALT has been present in Los Angeles since November 19, 1967. He was told to stay in the city until needed for further smuggling activities into Mexico. Funds have been continuously provided, allowing him to pursue more activities. During the past four months he has attended bartending school, explored again the possibility of working in the pornography business, taken dance lessons, and enrolled in a correspondence locksmithing course. Without our knowledge he began seeing a local clinical psychologist, DR. MARK O. FREEMAN. We covertly obtained the doctor’s file, which contained little to nothing in the way of new information, then we maneuvered GALT into ending that relationship, playing off his fears and paranoia of the police.
GALT has also been active in the GEORGE WALLACE presidential campaign, becoming a member of the American Independent Party. He has been working the streets, going door-to-door for the Wallace-for-president effort. Over the past few weeks he has identified himself more and more with Wallace’s racist ideals and has clearly revealed himself as an ardent segregationist. White rule and apartheid appeal to him. He has repeatedly talked of wanting to emigrate to Rhodesia and help fight for the white-rule cause. He is impressed and influenced by J. B. STONER and the National States’ Rights Party. He now subscribes to the Thunderbolt, the party’s newsletter, which openly calls for violence against minorities and the expulsion of all Negroes from the United States. He refers to MARTIN LUTHER KING JR. as Martin Luther Coon, mimicking the label STONER utilizes. His comments of late reflect a deep-set resentment at the attention many Negro leaders receive in the media.
One further note. GALT underwent plastic surgery to alter his nose, offering little explanation as to why. Disturbingly, he was dissatisfied with the initial results, so he removed the bandages and remodeled the nose himself before the cartilage set. He’s also frequented a hypnotist, but nothing substantial occurred from that association.
“You do understand who they’re talking about,” Coleen said.
I got it. “James Earl Ray.”
“He went by the name Eric S. Galt in Canada, Mexico, and back in the United States. What Ray said at his trial makes sense now.”
I waited for her to explain.
“Thirty-six hours before his trial began, Ray pleaded guilty to murder and was sentenced to ninety-nine years in prison. Toward the end of the sentencing proceedings, he interrupted the judge and objected on the record. He said he freely pleaded guilty to murder, but did not agree with comments made by Attorney General Ramsey Clark and J. Edgar Hoover. His words at the time were odd. He said, I don’t want to add something on that I haven’t agreed to in the past.”
I was confused, since the statement made little sense.
“After killing King,” she said, “Ray went on the run from April 4 to June 8, 1968, prompting the largest manhunt in history. Yet he made it to Canada, to England, to Portugal, then back to England where he was finally caught. Clark and Hoover both proclaimed to the world that Ray acted alone. No conspiracy. Case closed. The prosecution relied heavily on those statements during Ray’s sentencing hearing. But Ray said he did not agree with them. The judge pressed him on what he meant and he said, I mean on the conspiracy thing. Now I see why. There actually was a conspiracy.” She paused. “A big one.”
I watched the guy with the boat work a wench and drop the keel into the water. It was about a fifteen-footer. V-hulled. Open deck. High-sided. Good for the ocean. He tended to it with affection, tying the bow rope to a piling and easing his truck and trailer out of the way.
A lot was happening. Much more than I’d been told about yesterday by either Stephanie or Jansen. The idea had been to retreat here until dark, then make our way off the island.
Now I knew how.
Chapter Twenty-four
I rose from the picnic table and walked over to the guy with the boat, who was locking up his truck.
“Headed out for some fishing?” I asked.
“Looks like a good night for it.”
The saltwater inlet between here and the next patch of land over, Palm Beach Shores, was about a hundred yards across, the water calm and still. A damp breeze was working in from the east that felt good, but had so far done little to tussle the surface. Out over the water two squawking seabirds fought in midair for a fish.