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Heller paused to slurp coffee before continuing. "The Zapruder film clearly showed Ke
Jason felt his head spi
"Look at it this way, Jason. The files on the Ke
Jason scratched his chin, and shrugged his shoulders, showing he had no clue why that might be the case. Listening to this guy was almost hypnotic, but then he imagined that natural charisma in Heller's game probably opened a lot of doors for him. The people behind those doors would obviously have had a lot of reason to regret ever allowing him to walk into a room with them.
Heller chuckled just enough for Jason to pay a little bit of extra attention to him. Somehow, this crazy old man had found something fu
"The men who know what happened are a dying breed, Jason. Literally. It won't be too long now for the last of us to be gone. We know the real secrets. We know where the bodies are buried. We know what happened to all the witnesses. Dead men don't talk, and by the time 2017 is rung in, the last of the Ke
"So what part did you play on the day, Heller? Where were you standing? What was your job?" Jason asked. He was in this deep now so he might as well get all the gory details, too, although he kinda hated himself for even wanting to know more about this. It was all a bit...unsettling.
"I took the first shot. Not as a ma
That much at least made sense to Jason. Experts had been trying to prove for years that Oswald had not only been one of the best snipers in the world, but that he could also cause bullets to defy the laws of physics. That kind of thing would look cool in a movie, but it didn’t add up in real life.
Heller sighed. "Almost every one of the doctors at Parkland Hospital said that Ke
"So to answer your question about whether or not we were afraid we'd get caught, Jason...well...we knew it was possible, but we were also pretty sure that the panic we caused that day would cover our tracks for months at least. In the end, our tracks were covered forever. The nation was in mourning, and once all that had calmed down, there was still that little war in Vietnam to worry about and good ole LBJ was more than happy to escalate that conflict to a whole new level. America was distracted, and that was just fine with us.”
Jason just sat there, listening intently. Anyone else listening to this old guy talking would have thought that it was just a crazy old man telling tall tales. Another conspiracy nut boring people to tears in some diner. Jason knew different though. He now knew Heller was telling the truth. He also had to remind himself Heller was also a murderer. He shivered slightly.
Chapter 16
Just as his story was taking on a life of its own, Heller paused for a few seconds and then started to get up from the table. “Excuse me. I need to use the restroom, I'm afraid my bladder isn't quite what it used to be. I won’t be long.”
Jason found himself half standing up to help the old man out of the booth. He sat back down instead, reminding himself that there was still plenty of steel left inside this old dude - he didn’t really need any help. Only for the fact the cancer was eating this guy alive, Jason figured he'd have lived to be well over 100. Heller was tough as old boots. Jason could feel it.
Bill Heller strolled slowly to the rest room, opening it to find it empty. It was a pretty typical rest room, with some urinals and two crappers behind him for the guys who couldn't wait to get home. It was pretty typical example of a restroom.
Going to the toilet at his age was an adventure all on its own though. His prostate was the size of a small balloon, and, of course, the fact that he was basically a walking tumor didn’t help either. This sickness hadn’t really crept up on him so much as suddenly arrived just over 2 years ago. Still though, the universe has to balance the books, doesn’t it? Young Armstrong had been right about that. Probably had more insight into the whole thing than he’d ever understand, too.
After several moments of struggling, he’d finally managed to empty his bladder, then zipped up, and moved to the faucet to wash his hands. He glanced in the mirror and tried to recognize the face looking back at him. The eyes were still his but the face belonged to someone else - that haggard, bag of skin attached to his skull just never looked right. His mind was as sharp as it ever had been, but his body was finally failing under the weight of years of abuse he’d inflicted on it, and the evils he’d inflicted on others.
He closed his eyes while he was washing his hands, and, in that split second, he saw Ke