Bookmaker, The (16 page)

“In the months that followed, I took him back with me to Oxford a couple of times. As only my friend of course, but we didn’t stay too long in Mississippi. We both longed for the acceptance and openness we had in our small, gas-lit section of the French Quarter. We got a bigger, much nicer place soon after in the heart of where we needed to be.

“It was Matador, in one of our endless talks, who brought the old thoughts back. After we were together for few months or so, the subject turned to his hatred of the government and his desire to see it blown up and started again from scratch. Matador’s father was a writer, a socialist who lost everything when he was blacklisted during McCarthy’s purges. Left with nothing but debt and a sullied reputation, all his father could do was swallow forty sleeping pills. This confession sent chills of empathy through me. I had to tell him how my father met a similar fate and then I told him everything. He wasn’t offended by this revelation. In fact, he was all for it. Then he said he had someone I should meet.

“Clay Shaw was
a pseudo-celebrity in our growing but still tight-knit gay community in New Orleans. He was big-shot business man, real estate developer, and well-respected member of society. He kept his lofty status by keeping his sadomasochistic propensities hidden and sexuality unknown.

“Sonny’s was his sanctuary, and it was on a sweltering August night in 1963 when Matador introduced me to him.
Shaw was a six-foot-four bull-queer; his only effeminate tendencies showed in his well-polished diction and manners. A shock of grey curls contrasted with his sad blue eyes, and his well-tailored suit made him stand out amongst the rest of Sonny’s patrons. We slid down into his black velvet corner booth and ordered a couple scotches; he ordered a white russian.

“‘So our boy Matador here tells me you got it bad for the Kennedys,’
Shaw said, glancing at Matador then placing his hand gently on his knee. And with that small gesture, I knew they’d been together.

“I wasn’t sure I could trust him, even with Matador vouching for him, so I kept it abstract. ‘Let’s just say I’m not a fan of their politics.’

“He let out a small laugh. ‘Well, you wouldn’t be the only one, especially down here so close to Cuba and all.’

“‘I understand you share similar views?’

“‘You could say that,’ he said, sipping his cocktail. He lit up a long brown cigarette and smoked it impatiently. ‘Now, Preston…Preston was it?’

“‘Yeah
, that’s right.’

“‘Preston, you don’t need to play coy with me. Matador told me your plight, and more sympathetic I could not be. If what happened to you happened to me, I would feel the same way and take similar actions.’

“With that response, I wondered what Matador had told him. I allowed him to tell Shaw about my family and my need for revenge but told him to leave out the actual retaliations. I turned to Matador and he gave me a look that said Shaw knew everything. I was angry, but at the same time, I knew he hadn’t betrayed my trust. He felt that this knowledge would be safe with Shaw—he had his own secrets to keep.

“
Shaw sensed my uneasiness and possibly Matador’s breach of trust, so he tried to articulate that my past and plans would be safe with him. ‘Preston, in my role as director of the International Trade Mart and other ventures, I have become involved with some very powerful players in both the oil and defense industries, and with Kennedy’s attempts to reach accords in both Cuba and Vietnam, we stand to lose sizeable amounts of money. My colleagues are willing to do anything to ensure that these peace accords are not met. With Kennedy out of the way, Johnson—a God-fearing southern boy just like us—has already made his war-mongering plans known, and this would keep my colleagues fat and happy for years to come. Now, I find it very fortuitous that our paths have crossed, and I think you will as well as you’ll soon learn I can be very beneficial to your plight.’

“‘The only things I need are a way to get close and a fall guy.’
”

“‘Of course
,’ Shaw answered quickly. ‘No sense in going to jail for executing such a noble cause. If you choose to work with me, I can provide both.’

“‘And what’s in it for you to work with me?’ I asked.

“This time his laugh was deep and guttural. ‘Well, that’s easy, you’re gonna take him out. You’re the one with all the experience, right?’

“‘That’s right.’ I answered. ‘And I’ll have no problem taking this Kennedy out when the time comes.’

“Shaw turned to Matador and rested his arm on his shoulder. ‘Matador, you always did have a knack for getting involved with the most fascinating people.’

“He stood up, finished his drink
, and wiped the white cream residue from his upper lip. ‘I must go; I have many pressing concerns to attend to. Preston, I assure you, the wheels are now in motion. Let’s meet back here in a week and hopefully by then I’ll have lined up everything you require to get this nasty, but unfortunately necessary, business taken care of.’

“We shook hands and
I watched him leave the bar, still looking out of place.

“It was two weeks later when we met Clay Shaw again at Sonny’s—same corner booth, same
white russian. This time, he had two men sitting with him. The first was introduced as David Ferrie, a creepy looking fellow with thick, fake-looking eyebrows and an over-sized toupee that kept sliding across his head. The other man was Guy Banister, an older, gruff-looking man in a straw hat and wrinkled brown suit. It was easy to tell that Ferrie was gay and Banister was very straight and quite uncomfortable in his surroundings. An odd pairing, I thought. They couldn’t have much in common—I was wrong.

“Banister was ex-FBI and now ran a detective agency down on Lafayette Street. Both men were anti-Castro, anti-Communism
, and anti-Kennedy; they viewed him as having a soft stance on communism and cursed him for his failure to launch the Bay of Pigs invasion. I think I overheard Ferrie say that he thought Kennedy himself was a commie. They met when Ferrie worked in the adjoining office but around the corner on Camp Street for the Anti-Castro Cuban Revolutionary Council. When that disbanded, he stayed on and worked for Banister. I enjoyed listening to them gripe against Kennedy, even if they hated him for entirely different reasons.

“The reason they were sitting at our table, Shaw informed us, was that after using Banister’s FBI ties, it was decided that Kennedy’s trip to Dallas in November seemed an ideal situation. Banister also had friends in the Secret Service who could get us information on his route and level of protection, amongst other things. But even more important, they found our patsy. Ferrie had known Lee Harvey Oswald for years—they met in the Civil Air Patrol when Oswald was only fifteen. Ferrie got Oswald a job running errands and doing odd jobs for Banister, including handing out anti-Castro flyers in front of his office.

“Ferrie, moving his arms frantically about, said, ‘We got this kid Oswald in our back pocket, he owes us money and he’s as smart as a bag of hammers.’

“‘The reason we like this kid,’ Banister added, ‘is he claims he’s a revolutionary, but he don’t know what he wants. One day he’s handing out
pro-Castro flyers in front of my place, the next he’s involved in the anti-Castro movement. Like David said, he ain’t all there.’

“‘And he’s broke,’ Ferrie said. ‘Got a wife and a kid he can’t take care of and another on the way. The way I see it, we throw a couple grand at him and he’ll do whatever we want.
’

“I had to admit; at this point I was impressed. In a short time
, they had a plan and a scapegoat lined-up. I didn’t care what their motivations were for doing Kennedy; I just knew with their help, I might be able to pull it off without getting killed or going to jail.”

“‘So what do we got so far? What’s our plan? How are we gonna use this kid?’ I asked the group.

“Shaw waved off Banister and Ferrie, motioning that he would handle this. ‘We’ve been bouncing around ideas for some time now, and we feel that our best bet is to get Oswald on board. I don’t know if you are aware, but all three of us are with the CIA.’

“‘Wait, all three of you are CIA?’ I asked.

“‘CIA’s got their hands in everything down here, son,’ Banister added.

“Shaw continued, ‘We’ll flash our credentials, tell him we need his highly specialized skills to carry out a fake Presidential assassination plot. It will go down as a botched attempt by Castro and this should get Kennedy off his ass
to invade Cuba properly—like he should have during the Bay of Pigs fiasco.’

“Bannister took his hat off and waved it at his face too cool himself
down. ‘We’ll give Oswald a rifle, tell him it’s full of blanks, perch him in an ideal spot to get the President in his sights and pull the trigger. The crowd will hear the gunshots, and an assassination attempt will be delivered on a silver platter to a war-hungry, commie-fearing, American public. We tell him the CIA wants him to run through the motions as if he really planned on an assassination so they can create a scenario that pins it on Castro. It’s that simple.’

“I found a flaw in their plan. ‘The American people aren’t itching to go to war with the Soviet Union. In fact, they’re scared shitless of the thought.
’

“‘I know that, and you know that,’ Shaw answered. ‘But you must remember Oswald is an idiot. I’m sure in his mind
, he thinks everyone feels the same as him or at least they ought to if they don’t.’

“‘We throw some money at him, blow some smoke up his ass that the CIA has hand-picked him for this assignment and how his unique skills are needed. The kid just wants to belong, be a part of something, to feel important, to matter,’ Bannister said.

“Ferrie added, ‘We’ll tell him if he gets caught, the CIA will take care of it from there, he’ll do no time, face no punishment. Oswald’s dumb enough to eat this up with a spoon, and when we throw some money at him, that’ll cloud any suspicions he may have. He’ll be begging to do it—hell, he’d probably use his own rifle.’

“‘Meanwhile,’ Shaw said, ‘Oswald, who actually has military sniper training, will fire live rounds. And you, Preston, Matador tells me you’re a crack shot. You will be placed opposite Oswald to create a crossfire situation that will surely hit
the target; we’ll then rig it so Oswald is apprehended and you can just slip away in the commotion.’

“‘I won’t miss,’ I said. ‘And I don’t want to ever meet this Oswald character, our paths will never cross. In fact, what you told me
is already too much info. And I definitely don’t want him to know about me. I don’t exist. Is everyone here on board with this?’

“‘Of course,’ Shaw said in his most reassuring tone. ‘That goes without saying; you have nothing to worry about
.’

“Matador spoke for the first time. ‘This sounds a little far-fetched to me; the CIA would never conduct an exercise like this with the public involved.’

“‘Of course they wouldn’t,’ Bannister said, ‘but Oswald is a moron, that’s why he’s our guy. He’ll buy into anything we tell him, and even if he is skeptical, the money will fix that, the kid’s desperate.’

“‘Look,’ Shaw said, ‘we know it’s not perfect and it’s got a few bugs, this is just a rough draft. We got ‘til November to tighten up any loose ends and really get this plan flawless, let’s get the ball rolling on this thing and see where we are in a week.’

“Bannister, eager to leave, was the first to stand up. ‘What do you say we find another venue for our little rendezvous? Imagine what the boys on the force would think if they saw me here.’

“Clay stood up
. ‘Tough shit, here’s perfect. You’ll never find a better place to meet. Who would think to look here?’

“‘Fine, the fag bar it is,’ Bannister said
, clearly not worried about offending any of us.

“‘Boys, I think we have an all
-star line-up of talent to execute this mission, no pun intended. And frankly, I’m excited to be a part of this, this is a history-maker here, boys,’ Shaw said with a big smile. He held up his drink and we all followed suit.”

“The street below glowed phosphorescent. The hot
, thick air smelled of the river and eventual rain. A storm was coming but not yet. We smoked in silence as we sweated out on our shaky metal fire escape, watching the moths dance around the exposed light bulb. The cold details of what we were planning were finally becoming a reality to both of us.

“I was excited, Matador was worried. ‘You know talk is just talk, but we’re really gonna go through with this
, aren’t we?’

“‘I’ve been living my life for this moment,
’ I said, ‘be it with this faction of unsavory characters or not, I’m gonna do it. I’d do it alone if I had to. I’m just grateful I found a way to get close, and it sounds like we might have a fall guy as well.’

“Matador walked over to the railing and spoke without turning around. ‘This is big
, Pres. This is the fucking President of the United States, it don’t get no bigger.’

“I joined him at the railing and flicked my cigarette into the hazy street below. ‘Listen, you don’t need to be involved, you can get out right now. It won’t change things between us, we’ll still be together. But I have to do this, with or without you.’

“He placed his hand on mine, still staring into the night. ‘You won’t be doing it without me. But you’re gonna have to teach me how to shoot.’