by Dave Conifer
“I saw a little motel along here yesterday,” Jonas said. “We need a place to hide.” Reno nodded her approval. They walked past the dormitories and onto University Avenue, with its array of souvenir shops, bars and fast food. From there it was another half mile to the motel Jonas remembered. They tucked in shirts, wiped away dirt and blood checked in under an alias. Neither felt very confident about their chances of staying hidden for long. Jonas walked next door and bought a bag of hot food at a burger joint, and then they holed up in the room behind a steel door with a deadbolt lock.
“Where did we go wrong?” Reno finally asked after they devoured the cheeseburgers and coke. “I didn’t think they even knew we were in Pittsburgh. I wonder if they’ve known where we are all along.”
“We’re out of our league here. We’re really pressing our luck anytime we go out at all. These guys are professionals. We’re just a couple of reporters. It’s only a matter of time.”
“I’m glad we did what we did today,” she said. “It was worth it to meet Mrs. Pomeroy. I feel like we owed her that.”
“I don’t know if it was worth it,” Jonas said. “Our disguises didn’t work the way we hoped.”
“It was a pretty good try for a couple amateurs.”
“I need a shower,” Jonas said. “Do you mind? I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
~~~
When he returned from the bathroom, mopping his clipped hair with a towel, he found Reno collapsed across the bed wrapped in nothing but a bedspread with the Warren Commission Report books spread around her. “Now that’s hot,” he said as he framed her with his fingers. “Check this out,” he said, pointing to the oozing wound above his abdomen. “It doesn’t want to stop bleeding.”
“Is it from the fence?”
“Yeah. Your chin’s bleeding, too.”
“Maybe I’ll shower,” she said as she rose from the bed.
“You know, Abby, you’re so right. Screw the professor. We need to write some articles right now. I’m thinking of staying up and working on it tonight. The only thing that worries me is that I’m afraid to call my editor. I can’t remember if he knows what I’m doing at all. He’s probably pissed.”
“After all that’s happened that’s your biggest worry?” she asked. “Come on, you’ve got bigger problems than that.”
“I figure we can write it first and call him later. And you should send it to your editor too, of course.”
“Everything that Mrs. Pomeroy said was spot on with what’s in here,” Reno said. “Not in the main report, of course. But if you read the verbatim testimony it confirms what she told us about the police car. I knew it sounded familiar when she was saying that.”
“What police car?” Jonas asked as he walked back towards the bathroom. “Keep talking,” he yelled. “I’m going to put some clothes on.”
“You don’t have any, remember? They’re in the car. We lost all our clothes again!”
“Yeah, I know. I guess I have to put the same shit back on. Do you think we need to go back and take care of the car?”
“No way. Are you crazy?” she asked. “We can’t go back there. Besides, it’s probably wired to explode by now.”
“Yeah, you’re right, ” he conceded.
“It’s getting way too complicated, huh?”
“What did Mrs. Pomeroy say about that police car again?” Jonas asked.
“She said Pomeroy saw his partner’s car parked behind the Texas School Book Depository around lunchtime,” Reno said. “And his partner was none other than Charlie McBride. That was new. We didn’t know that for sure.”
“The late Charlie McBride,” Jonas said. “I wish we’d never met his knucklehead son.”
“Yeah, but it’s looking like the knucklehead was right about one thing,” she said. “His father must have been deep into this whole plot if he’s driving a squad car to Oswald’s place. That’s why they burned him up so quickly after it was done.”
“I don’t remember this part,” he admitted.
“I just checked the reports and confirmed what Mrs. Pomeroy told us,” she told him, pushing one book aside and reaching for another. “Mrs. Earlene Roberts was the housekeeper at Oswald’s rooming house. Not the landlady. She told the Warren Commission that at one o’clock she saw a police car outside the house. They beeped the horn twice and then left. She said Oswald had just gotten there.” She flipped forward a few pages, then flipped back and continued. “She said there were two uniformed policemen in the car. I can’t find it right now but I remember where somebody from the police department confirmed that this very car was at the Texas Schoolbook Depository at the time of the assassination.”
“What does that mean?”
“Simple. Nobody was supposed to reveal that it was at the Depository. That must have been a slip up. I think Oswald shot Kennedy and then caught a ride back home in that squad car. It’s just more evidence that the police were in on this, just like when they let Ruby kill Oswald two days later. But not the real police. It was that bogus group that Pomeroy was with.”
“You’re good, Abby. But this is right in the report? Why haven’t we ever heard of it before?”
“No,” she said impatiently, “It isn’t in the report. This is the report,” she said, slapping the smallest of the volumes on the bed. “If that’s all you read you wouldn’t know any of this. I found all this in these other volumes, where you see what the witnesses said under oath.”
“Sorry. I forgot.”
“And there’s something else I’ve been kicking around,” she continued. “It makes more sense now. Just some real bad luck for Oswald. He ran into J.D. Tippit about a half hour after he left the scene. Tippit was a real policeman, not one of the phonies Pomeroy was in with. I’m a hundred percent sure he had nothing to do with the plot. Oswald probably expected Tippit to help him because he figured the whole police force was in on it. Tippit didn’t know anything at all, except what the shooter looked like because a description was already on the air. So he was probably trying to arrest Oswald, not help him. It must have gotten out of control and Oswald killed him. Before that I think the plan was probably for Oswald to slip away. But the instant he turned into a cop-killer, the real cops weren’t going to let that happen no matter what. They chased him down in a movie theater, beat him up, and brought him in.”
“Wouldn’t they have chased him anyway even if he didn’t kill a cop? Isn’t killing the president just as bad?” Jonas asked.
“Not if he hadn’t run into Tippit and gotten caught in the first place,” she answered. “They never would’ve found him. The escape plan would have worked except for Tippit. Talk about a bad break. It all unraveled because Tippit saw him by chance. At least that’s what I think.”
“And Oswald knew too much,” Jonas said. “Once the real police grabbed him, it wasn’t safe for the plotters to leave him alive because he would eventually spill his guts. It wasn’t enough just to double-cross him. They had to kill him to keep it all secret. Yes!” he said, pumping his fist. “I believe we nailed this!”
“So where are you planning to start?” she asked. “For your article, I mean?”
“Abby, it’s our article,” he reminded her. “You’ve done twice the work I have. Are you up for writing it tonight? I’m feeling a real sense of urgency.”
“No kidding. Yeah, let’s do it,” she said. “Are we naming names? Pomeroy told us not to use his.”
“Yeah, but you’re forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“He’s dead.”
Reno laughed out loud. “You’re bad.”
“A lot of our information came straight out of the Warren Report, or else was confirmed by it. Is that okay as a source?”
“Everything in there’s heavily footnoted,” Reno said. “We’ll just name the names in the footnotes. Whenever something came from there we’ll make it crystal clear.”
“What about Mark McBride?”
“He�
�s a buffoon,” she replied. “If we mention him we lose credibility. We can leave him out, but not his father.”
Jonas nodded. “I say we write this big and bold. There are a few cracks we haven’t filled in but let’s write it like it’s one-hundred percent solid. It’s got to be a home run. We’re not just reporting the news. We’re trying to stay alive.”
“Where do we send it when it’s done?” Reno asked. “Your place or mine?”
“I don’t really care. Let’s send it to both. Can we do that?”
“Let’s just worry about that after we write it,” she suggested. “I’d be surprised if my editors will touch it without studying it for a month, especially when we send it in handwritten.”
“You think you’ve got it tough?” Jonas said. “I don’t even know who to send it to. My boss doesn’t even know me.”
“We don’t have much time. Let’s write,” she said. “If our papers don’t want it, somebody else will. It’s the story of the century, isn’t it?”
“Damn straight it is,” he said. “But not until we write it.”
-- Chapter 27 --
Braden’s den phone rang again an hour later. He muted the Pirates game with one hand while answering the phone with the other. “Braden.”
“Mr. Braden, this is Frank Marino again. Sir, I have more information on the reporters,” Marino said.
“Go ahead, Marino.”
“They’re in Morgantown, West Virginia,” Marino said. “One of our teams tailed them from Pittsburgh. They checked into The Hotel Morgan a few minutes ago and they’re still inside. We have somebody at every exit.”
“Excellent! Why don’t you just go in and get them?”
“We don’t have any contacts at the front desk. We decided we’d just wait them out.”
“Do not let them out of that building. We have them this time. Do whatever it takes. When they show up you know what to do. Keep it quiet, play it cool, but get it done. Understood?”
“Will do, sir,” Marino answered.
“Now, what are they doing in Morgantown? Do they know about the biography project?”
“I don’t know,” Marino admitted. “They haven’t left the hotel yet, so we don’t know what they’re up to.”
“I’m not sure how much you know,” Braden said. “A few years ago ERC sent a few trucks of historical documents down there to some history professor. Problem is, those papers weren’t sanitized. We never had anybody go through them so we don’t know what’s in them. It’s probably okay but we don’t know for sure. Do you follow me?”
“Yes. I remember this.”
“We have the court order to stop her from picking through the papers, but she still has them. Or somebody down there does. The judge ordered that they be locked away. It would be bad if she was offering to let them see any of it. Very bad. But why else would they be there?”
“I’ll look into it,” Marino promised. “Do we have any contacts at the university?”
“Call me in the office tomorrow. I don’t keep any of that here.”
“Yes, sir. In the meantime I’ll get down to Morgantown. Something tells me I have some business to take care of there.”
-- Chapter 28 --
Eastern Steel Chairman Orchestrated Ordered JFK Assassination
By Abby Reno (The Austin Statesman) and Joe Jonas (The Charlotte Sentinel)
Morgantown, WV -- Kent Castle, who served as Chairman of Eastern Steel from April May 1959 through March 1964, orchestrated the assassination of President John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963. The scheme was facilitated by a division of handpicked Dallas policemen officers, all of whom were hired in September 1963. All members of this special cell on the police force were fired in December 1963. Most Some were immediately hired by the security department of Eastern Steel Corporation in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
The shooter was Lee Harvey Oswald, just as the 1964 Warren Commission indicated determined. He was working closely with the Castle plot, however, and was not a ‘lone gunman’ as that report concluded. After fatally wounding the president President Kennedy, Oswald was transported taken away from the scene and to his home rooming house in a Dallas Police Department squad car number 207. The car was driven by Officer Charlie Charles McBride, a member of the special cell. Another unidentified policeman was in the car with McBride and Oswald as well. Housekeeper Landlady Earlene Roberts testified under oath before the Warren Commission that after dropping Oswald at his home the two officers beeped sounded the horn twice before driving away.
Minutes after returning to his home Oswald left and quickly encountered Officer J.D. Tippit. A struggle ensued and according to eyewitnesses (documented by the Warren Commission report) Tippit was fatally shot by Oswald. Tippit was not a member of the special cell and who most likely knew nothing of the scheme. Tippit possibly may have tried to arrest Oswald based on a description of the shooter assassin that was being broadcast. Oswald may have been confused by Tippit’s ignorance of the plot and shot the officer out of desperation.
After Oswald killed Tippit the plotters decided that they could not allow him to be rescued go free, as was originally planned. But the need for secrecy required that he be silenced once he was taken into custody for the murder of Tippit. Instead, they The plotters were forced to devised a plan for his execution.
The new plan culminated in the shooting of Oswald on live television by Jack Ruby on Sunday, November 24, 1963. The shooting occurred in the basement of the Dallas Police Department Building as Oswald was being transferred from the City Jail to the County Jail. Dallas police officer R.J. Pomeroy, a member of the secret cell, admitted to the Warren Commission that he watched as another secret cell officer, Edward Vincent, allowed Ruby to walk freely down the ramp from Main Street into the basement moments before the transfer was to take place. Within minutes Seconds later Ruby killed Oswald with no interference from the dozens of police officers that were present.
LikeAs Oswald was, Ruby was double-crossed by the plotters after playing his part in the conspiracy. For months, while being held in prison after killing Oswald, Ruby regularly told Warren Commission interviewers interrogators commissioners and investigators that his life was in danger he could expose the conspiracy if he was taken out of the custody of Dallas law enforcement officials. “My life is in danger,” he said repeatedly, according to transcripts of interrogations testimony in front of the by Warren Commission interrogations hearings testimony. “If you don’t take me back to Washington with you, you’ll never see me again,” he said. Ruby had already been was convicted of murdering Oswald before he was ever interviewed by the Warren Commission. He languished in prison until his death in 1967.
Kent Castle first became embittered towards Kennedy in 1943. His nephew, Norwood Strunk of West Virginia, was killed in action while serving on PT 109, a small naval vessel commanded by Lieutenant John Kennedy. During the night of August 1-2, 1943 in the Solomon Islands in the Pacific, a Japanese Destroyer the Yamagachi, rammed PT 109 and cut it in half sliced it in two. A Naval Investigation by the Navy Department A preliminary investigation by the Navy Department concluded alluded to the possibility that the accident incident was caused by the negligence of Kennedy, who was running only one engine in direct violation of regulations operating the ship boat in violation of several regulations. The investigation preliminary report further criticized Kennedy for his lack of awareness of the presence of the Yamagachi Japanese warship despite the presence existence of sophisticated radar gear on the boat PT 109.
Strunk’s mother (and Castle’s sister) took her own life when she learned of the death of her only son. She was forty-two years old.
After the preliminary Navy report was issued, Joseph Kennedy (John Kennedy’s father) pressured the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Administration to drop the investigation. The elder Kennedy, a former cabinet member and former Ambassador to England, was a prominent contributor to and fundraiser to for FDR presidential campaigns. The investigation was canceled prematur
ely despite calls for a court-martial by from many military figures allegedly including General Douglas MacArthur. When John Kennedy was awarded the Navy and Marine Corps Medal for bravery in connection to the incident, the shocked and angry Castle told acquaintances that he would “even the score” with Kennedy Castle made it clear to acquaintances that he would someday find and confront Kennedy over the matter.
By 1959 Castle had risen through the ranks at Eastern Steel to become Chairman and CEO. In 1962 Eastern Steel and all domestic steel producers were the beneficiaries of a stingy contract with the steelworkers union that included very few wage increases. President Kennedy had pressured union negotiators to accept the contract in order to fight help avoid prevent wage-price spirals which could lead to inflation. Exerting pressure on Pushing organized labor this way was a political risk to a president who relied on the votes of working Americans, but his concerns over inflation overrode politics. Kennedy hoped that the steel industry would respond by holding down steel prices.
Instead, Castle himself personally visited the White House Oval Office in April 1962 to tell Kennedy that Eastern Steel would raise prices later that day by six dollars per ton. Other steel companies producers quickly announced their own price increases.
Using all the resources at his disposal, including press conferences the withholding and cancellation of federal contracts as well as and federal economic investigations into price-fixing and government policy tweaks regarding procurement of steel,President Kennedy the Kennedy Administration waged a brutal campaign of public relations against Eastern Steel, often personalizing the attacks by invoking Castle’s name. By the end of the week, after rivals of Eastern Steel had rolled back cancelled their price hikes price increases in the face of government pressure, Castle and Eastern were forced to give in to the president and do the same. Comments from Eastern Steel sources indicate that Planning for the assassination began shortly afterwards. Eighteen months later President Kennedy was gunned down in Dallas.