The Second Shooter

by E. A. Briginshaw

  * * *

  As he ended his conversation with David, Henry knew they were going to need a lawyer. He immediately called Greg Blackwood.

  “I found David. He’s in Chicago. He says he’s in trouble – big trouble. I’m heading to the airport right now. Can you help us?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  * * *

  “My dad said he’s going to catch the first flight back here,” David said when Laura came back into the living room. “He said I should just stay here with you until he gets here. Is that okay?”

  “Sure it is. Let me call my office.”

  Laura took the phone into the kitchen. “Something’s come up – I’m going to be working from home today,” she said to her editor.

  “Okay, but keep working on that JFK story. I think you’ve got something there and I don’t want anyone else scooping us on this story.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m on it.”

  “I’m sorry,” David said when she came back into the living room. Although she had spoken softly on the phone, David couldn’t help but overhear her conversation to her boss. “I didn’t mean to make you miss work, but I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “It’s no problem. I work from home all the time. Can I get you anything?”

  “No, I’m fine.” David slumped further down on the couch.

  Laura pulled out her laptop and set it up on the large glass and silver desk in the corner of the living room. It was true; she really did work a lot from home. There were mounds of files and papers stacked on every corner of the desk. She picked up one of the piles and placed them on the floor to give her room to work.

  The rest of Laura’s condo looked like a photo on the cover of a Modern Homes and Gardens magazine. Everything seemed so clean, with a white leather sofa and chair, glass and silver end tables, and beige, almost-white carpet that extended into the dining area. The living room, dining room and kitchen were really just one big room divided by an island with four stools neatly pushed into place. However, the corner where her desk was located looked like a tornado had swept through the place. Laura didn’t see the difference herself. It was like there were imaginary walls separating her home office from the rest of the room.

  Laura sat at her desk and continued looking through the enormous number of digitized images and reports about the JFK assassination. She had found more and more evidence of a conspiracy, but nothing that indicated who was actually involved.

  After a few minutes, she glanced over at David and saw that he had fallen asleep on her couch. “Poor kid,” she thought to herself. “What kind of trouble could he have gotten himself into?”

  Laura turned back to her work and opened the next file. It contained the statement from a lady claiming that she saw gun smoke come from behind the stockade fence on the grassy knoll at the time Kennedy was shot. On the bottom of the report, someone had handwritten “Unreliable – Unconfirmed.” When Laura opened the next file, it was from a man who claimed to have seen a puff of smoke from behind the stockade fence. It also had “Unreliable” handwritten on the report. Laura noted that the handwritten note was by the same person who had made the notation on the first report. She opened four more reports from other witnesses that said basically the same thing. All had been marked as “Unreliable” and “Unconfirmed”. Another report was from a man who was on the grassy knoll who claimed to have heard a shot come from behind him. He also claimed to have smelled gunpowder.

  How could the police have filed seven separate reports from witnesses claiming to have seen or heard a gunshot from the grassy knoll and have all of them discounted as unconfirmed and unreliable? Something fishy was definitely going on.

  Suddenly David let out a yell in his sleep and began thrashing around on the couch.

  Laura quickly moved over to comfort him. “David, it’s okay. You’re just having a bad dream.”

  David looked at her with wide-eyed terror as it took him a few seconds to figure out where he was. “Sorry,” he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

  “Let me get you some water.”

  David gulped it down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

  “That’s okay. You know, at some point you’re going to have to stop apologizing and tell someone what’s going on.”

  David looked like he wanted to tell her, but then reconsidered. “Maybe when my dad gets here.”

  He walked out onto the balcony and looked out at the beautiful view of Lake Michigan. “Dad says you’re working on some big story. What’s it about?”

  “Are you old enough to know anything about the assassination of John F. Kennedy?”

  “Only what they taught us in school. They said he was shot by Lee Harvey Oswald. That was a long time ago. Why are they still talking about it now?”

  “Because it was an event that changed the world. Do you remember where you were when you heard about the 9/11 terrorist attacks?”

  “Absolutely – I was in school. I remember my dad coming to pick me up, hugging me, and then taking me home. I didn’t really understand what was going on, but I could tell that he was really scared.”

  “Well, for the older generation, everyone knows exactly where they were when they heard that Kennedy had been shot.”

  David remembered when they had learned about Kennedy in school, and how his teacher had tears in her eyes when she told them about how he was killed. “So why is this a story now?”

  “Because the government just released a bunch of records from their investigation that they’ve been hiding for years.”

  “Why would they hide them?”

  “Some people think that Oswald was set up to take the blame – that they covered up who was actually involved. In 1979, the U.S. House Select Committee on Assassinations did another investigation and indicated the first investigation was seriously flawed. They concluded there was evidence of a conspiracy, but not enough evidence to indicate who was involved.”

  “Yeah, I remember my teacher saying that,” David said. “But I still don’t understand why this is suddenly coming out now.”

  “Because the JFK Records Act specified that all records relating to the assassination must be released this year, unless the President decides they should remain classified. He recently declassified thousands of documents, but they accidently released more than they should have, even the ones the President said should remain classified. Now the government is trying to get them back.”

  Suddenly there was a chirping sound as Laura’s cell phone buzzed on her desk.

  “Maybe that’s my dad,” David said hopefully. “He’s probably made it to Chicago.”

  Laura knew it wasn’t. This was the cell phone that Laura used for calls from her informants. She was sure it was Todd.

  “Hi Todd,” Laura said. “I can’t talk right now. Can I call you back?”

  “This is important,” Todd said. “I just saw a bulletin come across the wire that every policeman in the city is looking for David Shaw. That’s Henry’s son, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but I’m sure that’s a pretty common name. I doubt that it’s the same David Shaw.”

  Todd ignored her misdirection. “I know he’s there. It’s best if he just turns himself in. It will go better for him that way.”

  “Oh Todd, he’s just a kid,” she said as she looked at David. He had that innocent deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.

  “Let me talk to him,” Todd said.

  Laura paused, not knowing what to do. “David,” she said as she handed the phone to him, “this is a friend of mine with the FBI. He knows you’re here and he wants to help.”

  “You called the police?” David started backing away from her.

  “No, I didn’t. I swear. Somehow they found out you were here. Please talk to him. I trust him and I’m sure you can too.”

  David paced back and forth. He knew it was pointless to try to keep running. “Can I call my dad first?”

  “He wants to call his
father,” Laura said into the phone.

  “We don’t have much time,” Todd said. “If I know he’s there with you, it won’t be long until someone else figures it out as well. Just open the door. I’m right outside.”

  She opened the door.

  “I’m sorry, but I really think this is the best way for him,” Todd said as he stepped around Laura. “Hello David. I’m agent Todd Knight with the FBI and there’s a warrant out for your arrest.”

  “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong,” David said.

  “I believe you,” Todd said. “Why don’t we all sit down and figure out where we go from here?”

  Laura sat on the couch beside David and hugged him as if she were a mother bear protecting her cub. Todd sat on the leather chair facing them.

  “Can I try calling my dad?” David pleaded.

  “Sure,” Todd said. He nodded to Laura who quickly tried to call Henry.

  “It went straight to voice-mail,” Laura said. “He’s probably still in the air.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can wait for his plane to land,” Todd said. “David, I think it’s best if you voluntarily turn yourself in. I’ll say that Laura suggested you call me because she knows me and trusts me.”

  “I do,” Laura said, giving David a reassuring hug.

  “Now David,” Todd continued. “I’m going to have to put you in handcuffs, but we’ll throw your coat over top so it’s not too noticeable.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Laura asked.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Todd said. “Just bring your ID with you, but I’d suggest you leave everything else here.”

  “And Laura,” Todd continued, “I’d suggest you get one of your photographers ready at the entrance to FBI headquarters on Roosevelt Road to get a picture of us when I bring him in. You should probably leak it to some of the other media as well.” He smiled at David. “We’ll want a few pictures of this fresh-faced kid walking into FBI headquarters voluntarily so they can’t spin some story about him being a terrorist.”

  “I’m sure everything will turn out okay,” Laura said as she gave David another hug. Then she looked directly at Todd. “You make sure you take care of him.”

  She watched Todd lead David down the hallway toward the elevator. “I’ll let your dad know what happened when he gets here.”

  * * *

  Todd read David his rights as he drove him downtown to FBI headquarters. “Do you understand your rights as I have explained them to you?”

  “I guess so,” David answered.

  Todd glanced over and could see that David was scared out of his wits. “I suggest you use those rights. Once I take you into headquarters, you’re going to be placed in an interrogation room. But don’t say a word until your lawyer gets there.”

  “Will I be able to see my dad?”

  “Probably – but only briefly. Since you’re over eighteen, they might only allow your lawyer to be in there with you while they question you.”

  David closed his eyes hoping this was all just a bad dream.

  “There’s a bunch of cops feeling really embarrassed that you eluded them for so long,” Todd said, “and then to have your picture show up in the paper playing in a soccer game pissed them off even more. If your lawyer is any good, he should be able to use that to his advantage. And I’ll be stating that you turned yourself in.”

  David still just sat there with his eyes closed.

  “Okay, we’re getting close,” Todd said. “There’s going to be some reporters there so remember to just smile and look like this is just some big misunderstanding. Don’t answer any of their questions.”

  As Todd approached FBI headquarters, he could see a couple of reporters waiting for them, along with a camera-man. Laura had obviously done her part. Todd could have easily snuck David in through a back entrance, but he wanted him to be seen with his head held high walking right through the front doors.

  “Ready?” Todd asked.

  “I guess so,” David said.

  Todd got out of the car and came around to the other side to open the door for David. He placed David’s Team Canada jacket over his hands to hide the handcuffs. “Remember to smile,” he whispered to David.

  When they emerged from the car, both Todd and David tried to make it look like they were best buddies rather than arresting officer and prisoner.

  “What are the charges?” one of the reporters asked.

  David did his part and didn’t say a word, but just smiled for the camera.

  “Please make way,” Todd said. “He’s here of his own accord to answer some questions.”

  Todd quickly led David by them and into the building.

  * * *

  Laura paced back and forth in her living room, checking her watch for about the tenth time in the last five minutes. “What was taking Henry so long?” she wondered. His flight should have landed over an hour ago. Finally, her phone rang.

  “It took us forever to get through customs but we’re on our way to your place now,” Henry said. “I’ve got Greg Blackwood with me, one of the lawyers with our firm. Let me talk to David.”

  “He’s not here,” Laura said. “He’s been arrested.”

  “What? What did they charge him with?”

  “Nothing, yet. Todd took him to FBI headquarters for questioning.”

  “Todd? How did Todd know he was there?”

  “I don’t know. He just did. Todd said they were going to arrest him at any minute. He said it would be best if David turned himself in for questioning.”

  Henry’s frustration boiled over. “Just because you’re getting cozy with your old boyfriend doesn’t give you the right to have my son arrested!”

  Laura felt like she’d been hit in the chest with a bazooka. She didn’t know how to respond.

  Greg signaled to Henry to give him the phone. “This is Greg Blackwood,” he said calmly. “Do you know where they were taking David?”

  “Todd said he was taking him to FBI headquarters on Roosevelt Road,” Laura replied in a quivering voice.

  “Thank you,” Greg said. “We’ll head straight over there.” He held up the phone to pass it back to Henry, but Henry waved it away. “We’ll be in touch,” Greg said to Laura before he disconnected.

  Greg handed the phone back to Henry. “Don’t blame her. I probably would have recommended that David turn himself in as well.”

  “I don’t trust him, not one little bit,” Henry said, “and I think Laura is a little too close to him to see things clearly. He’s got his own agenda. I just don’t know what it is yet.”

  *** Chapter 12 ***

  “Do you know what the prof’s talking about?” a girl whispered to Robert as she nudged his shoulder.

  Robert was sitting in the lecture hall of his second-year calculus class, but his mind was elsewhere. His dad had called him just before class to say that David had been arrested in Chicago. Robert wanted to head there to support his brother, but he had been told there wasn’t anything he could do.

  “Sorry,” Robert said to the girl. “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  The class ended a few minutes later and Robert found the same girl waiting for him in the hallway. She was tall and athletic looking, with short brown hair. Robert didn’t remember seeing her before, but there were a lot of new faces this term as the other stream of co-op students were back on campus.

  “Hi, I’m Vanessa,” she said as she approached him. “There’s a few of us planning to meet in the lounge later this afternoon to organize a study group for this class and I was wondering if you wanted to join us.”

  “I don’t know,” Robert said. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, so I’m not sure I have the time. Sorry.”

  Robert started walking toward his next class, but Vanessa hustled alongside him trying to keep up with his quick pace. It was obvious she wasn’t going to give up easily. “Look, there’s a few of us that are going to fail this class for sure unless we work together
. I was asked to recruit you into the group because we were told that you’re a bit of a brain when it comes to calculus. We could sure use your help.”

  Robert stopped and looked at her. “And what do I get out of this arrangement?”

  “Whoa buddy. We’re just after you for your brains, nothing else. I can’t believe you’d think I would… never mind. Forget I asked.” She turned and started to walk away.

  Robert felt his face flush when he realized what she thought he was looking for out of this arrangement. “Wait,” he said as he hurried after her. “That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t asking you to – I mean, I didn’t mean to imply that you should – look, I’m sorry.” He was now just stammering and not making any sense at all. He took a deep breath. “I was just trying to say that if I helped you and your friends out with calculus, maybe you could help me out with one of my weaker subjects, like statistics.”

  Vanessa still looked suspicious of his intentions. “We’re meeting in the C&D lounge at six-thirty tonight. Come if you like.”

  * * *

  David was sitting in the interrogation room by himself, but he was starting to feel more and more relaxed. Todd had removed the handcuffs before he left and another FBI agent had asked him if he could get him some coffee. Since David wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, the agent had offered to get him a Coke from the little confectionary downstairs. A female FBI agent had popped in to ask him about his soccer game as she had seen David’s picture in the newspaper. She spoke to David for about ten minutes, telling him that her son was a soccer player as well and played for the University of Michigan. Everyone was friendly and continually asking him if there was anything they could get him.

  There was a sharp rap on the door and a tall, much older and scarily thin man entered the room. The atmosphere changed instantly as this man gave off the vibe of a grave digger. “I’m Tom Schwartz. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”