Read Reclaiming History Online
Authors: Vincent Bugliosi
10:20 a.m.
In the anteroom of Chief Curry’s office, a dozen or so members of the news media have come up from the basement and lay in ambush for the chief, hoping to get some advance word on Oswald’s transfer. Comfortable with the security arrangements, Curry steps out of his office and holds an impromptu news conference while he waits for Captain Fritz to finish this morning’s interrogation.
“Chief, you say you’re going to take him to the county jail in an armored car,” a reporter asks. “Have you ever had to do this with another prisoner?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Curry says.
“Is it a commercial-type truck, the kind that banks use?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did [the] threats on the prisoner’s life…did they come in right through the police switchboard?”
“Yes,” Curry replies.
“Do you have any details at all on them?” someone asks.
“No.”
“Is there any way we can get some [details] on [the calls], sir?”
“I don’t know who took the calls or what was said,” Curry says, feigning ignorance.
Someone asks again about the possibility that Oswald might have had accomplices.
“This is the man, we are sure, that murdered the patrolman and murdered…assassinated the president,” Curry says confidently. “But to say that there was no other person that had knowledge of what this man might do, I wouldn’t make that statement because there is a possibility that there are people who might have known this man’s thoughts and what he could do, or what he might do.”
“Does he show any signs of breaking—to make a clean breast of this, [and] tell the truth about what happened?”
“No, sir,” Curry answers, “there is no indication that he is close to telling us anything…”
The press questions Curry about Oswald’s relationship with his wife, whether Oswald has any friends, about the backyard photographs showing Oswald holding a rifle, and other topics, but Curry isn’t really telling them anything they don’t already know.
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Jerry O’Leary of the
Washington Star
is less interested in what Curry has to say and more interested in coming up with a plan to cover Oswald’s descent to the basement. O’Leary wants to be on the third floor when Oswald is led to the elevator, in case Oswald makes a statement, and also wants to be in the basement when Oswald is put in the armored truck. He figures the only way he’ll be able to cover both events is to race down the stairwell once Oswald is safely on his way down in the jail elevator. O’Leary and New York radio reporter Icarus “Ike” Pappas set up a test race to see if it can be done, with O’Leary and Pappas starting to run down the stairway at the same time the public elevator starts down. When O’Leary and Pappas reach the bottom, they can dash out of the stairwell just ahead of the elevator. The reporters can only hope the jail elevator will be as slow as the public elevator when the time comes. Neither thinks about it until later, but curiously no one questions or asks them for their credentials while running up and down the stairwell.
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I
n Captain Fritz’s third-floor office, Holmes grills Oswald about his current post office box rentals. Oswald says that after he came back to Dallas from New Orleans and shortly after he went to work at the Book Depository, he rented a new post office box in Dallas, number 6225.
“Rented it in your own name?” Holmes asks.
“Yes,” Oswald says. “I checked out one key.”
All of this was true. The police confiscated the key, which they found in Oswald’s pocket after his arrest. Holmes has already compared it to the master key for box 6225 and found them identical.
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“Did you show [in your application for the box] that anyone else was entitled to get mail in the box?” Holmes asks.
“No.”
“What did you show as your business?”
“I didn’t show anything,” Oswald replies.
“Well, your box rental application here says Fair Play for Cuba Committee and the American Civil Liberties Union,” Holmes tells him.
“Maybe that’s right,” Oswald admits.
Holmes wants to know if he rented the box for these groups, but Oswald denies it. “I paid for it out of my own personal money,” he says.
Asked why he put them on the application, Oswald only says, “I don’t know why.”
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“How did you get involved with the Fair Play for Cuba Committee?” Captain Fritz interrupts.
“Well, I first became interested when I went to New Orleans,” Oswald says. “It started out as simply a group of individuals who thought and had political opinions like my own. We decided to organize, and did after a while.”
“Who is the head of the organization?” Fritz asks.
“We don’t have any elected officers,” Oswald replies.
The homicide captain presses Oswald, trying to get him to admit that he is the head man of the New Orleans chapter, but Oswald is very evasive.
“Well, I could probably be considered the secretary,” Oswald finally admits, “since I wrote some letters on their behalf and tried to collect dues.”
“How much were the dues?” Fritz asks.
“A dollar a month,” Oswald shoots back.
“Isn’t there a Fair Play for Cuba Committee in New York?” Fritz asks.
Oswald smiles. “Yes, but they’re much better organized than we are.”
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“Did you contact them?” Fritz asks.
“Yes, I wrote to them,” Oswald replies, “and they sent me some Communist literature and a letter signed by Alex Hidell.”
*
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Oswald’s statement about Hidell, someone he previously claimed he knew nothing about, doesn’t escape the lawmen, but for the moment they let him go on.
“I distributed the literature in New Orleans,” Oswald tells them, “and it was at that time that I got into an altercation with a group of Cuban exiles and was arrested. I appeared on Bill Stuckey’s television program in New Orleans on a number of occasions and was interviewed by the local press often.
†
So you see my opinions on the Fair Play for Cuba Committee are well known.”
“Did you know Hidell in New Orleans?” Secret Service inspector Kelley asks.
“I never knew him or ever saw him in New Orleans,” Oswald replies.
“Do you believe in what the Fair Play for Cuba Committee stands for?” Kelley asks.
“Yes,” Oswald says. “Cuba should have full diplomatic relations with the United States. There should be free trade with Cuba and freedom for tourists from both countries to travel within each other’s borders.”
“Is that why you came to Dallas,” Postal Inspector Holmes asks, “to organize a cell of the Fair Play for Cuba Committee in Dallas?”
“No, not at all,” Oswald says.
“Did you work on it or intend to organize here in Dallas?”
“No, I didn’t,” Oswald chuckles. “I was too busy trying to get a job.”
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“Do you think that the attitude of the U.S. government toward Cuba will change since the president has been assassinated?” Kelley asks.
Oswald turns to Fritz. “I’m filed on for the president’s murder, right?”
“Yes,” Fritz says.
“Under the circumstances,” Oswald says to Kelley, “I don’t believe I will answer the question because whatever I say might be misconstrued.”
Despite his declaration, Oswald answers the question anyway. “When the head of any government dies,” he says, “there is always a second in command who takes over and in this particular case it will be Johnson. So far as I know, Johnson’s views and President Kennedy’s views are the same, so I don’t think the attitude of the U.S. government will change toward Cuba.”
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“Are you a Communist?” Captain Fritz asks.
It’s the kind of question Oswald likes. “No, I am not a Communist,” Oswald says. “I am a Marxist, but not a Marxist-Leninist.”
“What’s the difference?” Fritz asks.
“It would take too long to explain,” Oswald replies, enjoying the fact that he knows more about the subject than the homicide captain.
“Try me,” Fritz shoots back.
“Well, a Communist is a Leninist-Marxist,” Oswald explains, “while I am a true Karl Marxist. I’ve read just about everything by or about Karl Marx.”
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“Do you read a lot of Communist publications?” Fritz asks.
“I’m an avid reader of Russian literature,” Oswald says, “whether it’s Communist or not.”
“Do you subscribe to any Russian magazines or newspapers?” Agent Kelley inquires.
“Yes, I subscribe to the
Militant
,” Oswald replies. “That’s the weekly of the Socialist Party in the United States.”
Oswald is suddenly intrigued by Agent Kelley.
“Are you an FBI agent?” he asks.
“No, I’m not,” Kelley tells him. “I’m a member of the Secret Service.”
“Oh, I see,” Oswald says, nodding his head. “When I was standing in front of the Depository, about to leave, a young crew-cut man rushed up and said he was from the Secret Service, showed me a book of identification, and asked where the phone was.”
“Did you show him?” Kelley asks.
“Well, I pointed toward the pay phone in the building,” Oswald says, “and he started toward it, and then I left.”
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*
10:45 a.m.
The vice president of the Armored Motor Car Service, Harold Fleming, calls Assistant Chief Batchelor and tells him he has two armored trucks, a smaller and a larger one, with drivers ready and waiting for instructions.
“Send them down to the Commerce Street ramp,” Batchelor tells him, adding that after picking the one they want, “we’re going to back the truck into the ramp so they’ll be leaving the ramp in the right direction when they pull out.” They already know that the low ceiling in the basement garage will prevent the driver from backing the truck all the way down into the basement. They’re simply hopeful that they can get the truck backed down far enough so that they can get Oswald into it without exposing him to the street traffic.
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D
eputy Chief Stevenson approaches Captain Orville A. Jones of the Forgery Bureau and directs him to take any remaining detectives who are available on the third floor down to the basement to assist the officers already stationed there. Stevenson and Assistant Chief Batchelor then head down to the basement to meet the armored trucks and check the security arrangements again.
Captain Jones makes his way down the hall and tells the duty officers in the Juvenile, Forgery, and Burglary and Theft Bureaus to have all available officers report to the basement jail office for security detail. Two or three detectives accompany him at that time to the basement, where he stations them at the jail office.
Jones then walks to the head of the Commerce Street ramp. He instructs the two officers there to clear the way and assist the armored truck that will be arriving at any moment.
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Nearby, Batchelor and Stevenson are going over the proposed route of the caravan with Captain Talbert.
“Are you planning to use sirens to stop traffic at each intersection?” Talbert asks.
“I don’t want to attract any more attention to the transfer than we already have,” Stevenson says. “Do you have enough men available to cover each of the intersections along Elm Street?”
“I’m sure we can get them,” Talbert replies, calling Sergeants Patrick T. Dean and Don F. Steele over and instructing them to get some officers and station them along the Elm Street route to cut cross traffic at all the intersections as the convoy comes through. When Sergeant Steele says he doesn’t have enough men available, Talbert orders him to get any additional forces he needs from Captain Perdue Lawrence of the Traffic Division.
“Instruct the men stationed along Elm,” Talbert tells Steele, “to fall in line behind the convoy as they come past and be prepared to handle any trouble that develops down at the county jail,” where a crowd of around six hundred people has gathered.
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Batchelor and Stevenson can see officers stationed at the top of the Main and Commerce Street ramps. The two men walk up the Commerce Street ramp and survey the crowd that is gathered across the street. A police supervisor advises the deputy chiefs that no one but police officers are allowed on the side of the street next to City Hall. Batchelor can see a few officers stationed across the street, helping to control the crowd. Everything seems to be in order.
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I
n the third-floor homicide office, Secret Service inspector Kelley can sense, like many others before him, that Oswald likes to talk about himself and express his opinions. Perhaps this is the key to cutting through his denials.
“What do you think about religion?” Kelley asks Oswald.
“Karl Marx is my religion,” Oswald replies.
“What I mean is, what faith are you?” Kelley inquires.
“I have no faith,” the prisoner answers, then a moment later, “I suppose you mean the Bible?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Kelley says.
“Well, I’ve read the Bible,” Oswald begins. “Some people might find it interesting reading, but not me. As a matter of fact, I’m a student of philosophy and I don’t consider the Bible to be even a reasonable or an intelligent philosophy.”
“You don’t think much of it?” Kelley sums up.
“You could say that.”
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“As a Marxist, do you believe that religion is an opiate of the people?” Agent Kelley asks.
Oswald is in his element, and lights up at the chance to talk about ideology.
“Most definitely so,” Oswald says. “All religions tend to become monopolistic and are the causes of a great deal of class warfare.”
“Do you consider the Catholic Church to be an enemy of the Communist philosophy?” Kelley probes.
“Well, there is no Catholicism in Russia,” Oswald answers. “The closest thing to it are the Orthodox Churches. But, I’m not going to discuss my opinions about religion any further since this is an attempt to get me to say something which could be construed as antireligious or anti-Catholic.”
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“Do you believe in a deity?” Fritz interjects, trying to pick up the ball. But Oswald will have none of it.