5432852385743

happened, Mr. Amberson. I won’t say it did, but you’d have to convince us otherwise.”
“Uh-huh. Have you called Sadie’s folks? They live in Savannah. You should also call Deacon
Simmons and Ellen Dockerty, in Jodie. They were like surrogate parents to her.” I considered this.
“To both of us, really. I was going to ask Deke to be my best man at our wedding.”
Fritz took no notice of this. “What might have happened was you and your girl were in on it with
Oswald. And maybe at the end you got cold feet.”
The ever-popular conspiracy theory. No home should be without one.
“Maybe you realized at the last minute that you were getting ready to shoot the most powerful
man in the whole world,” Hosty said. “You had a moment of clarity. So you stopped him. If it went
like that, you’d get a lot of leniency.”
Yes. Leniency to consist of forty, maybe even fifty years in Leavenworth eating mac and cheese
instead of death in the Texas electric chair.
“Then why weren’t we there with him, Agent Hosty? Instead of hammering on the door to be let
in?”
Hosty shrugged. You tell me.
“And if we were plotting an assassination, you must have seen me with him. Because I know you
had him under at least partial surveillance.” I leaned forward. “Why didn’t you stop him, Hosty? That
was your job.”
He drew back as if I’d raised a fist to him. His jowls reddened.
For a few moments at least, my grief hardened into a kind of malicious pleasure. “The FBI kept an
eye on him because he defected to Russia, redefected to the United States, then tried to defect to
Cuba. He was handing out pro-Fidel leaflets on street corners for months before this horror show
today.”
“How do you know all that?” Hosty barked.
“Because he told me. Then what happens? The president who’s tried everything he can think of to
knock Castro off his perch comes to Dallas. Working at the Book Depository, Lee had a ringside seat
for the motorcade. You knew it and did nothing.”
Fritz was staring at Hosty with something like horror. I’m sure Hosty was regretting the fact that
the Dallas cop was even in the room, but what could he do? It was Fritz’s station.
“We did not consider him a threat,” Hosty said stiffly.
“Well, that was certainly a mistake. What was in the note he gave you, Hosty? I know Lee went to
your office and left you one when he was told you weren’t there, but he wouldn’t tell me what was in
it. He just gave that thin little fuck-you smile of his. We’re talking about the man who killed the
woman I loved, so I think I deserve to know. Did he say he was going to do something that would
make the world sit up and take notice? I bet he did.”
“It was nothing like that!”
“Show me the note, then. Double-dog dare you.”
“Any communication from Mr. Oswald is Bureau business.”
“I don’t think you can show it. I’ll bet it’s ashes in your office toilet, as per Mr. Hoover’s orders.”
If it wasn’t, it would be. It was in Al’s notes.
“If you’re such an innocent,” Fritz said, “you’ll tell us how you knew Oswald and why you were
carrying a handgun.”
“And why the lady had a butcher’s knife with blood on it,” Hosty added.
I saw red at that. “The lady had blood everywhere!” I shouted. “On her clothes, on her shoes, in her purse!
The son of a bitch shot her in the chest, or didn’t you notice?”
Fritz: “Calm down, Mr. Amberson. No one’s accusing you of anything.” The subtext: Yet.
I took a deep breath. “Have you talked to Dr. Perry? You sent him to examine me and take care of