Wayne Senior smiled. "On Negroes or assorted riffraff?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Your employers are exploiting your reputation. That means they're exploiting you."

"Exploitation works both ways. If that sounds familiar, I got it from you."

"I'll repeat myself, then. You're overqualified for random vengeance and work as a casino bouncer."

Wayne flexed his hand. "I'm developing some new tastes. You don't know if you disapprove, or if you should take partial credit."

Wayne Senior winked. "I could help you achieve what you want, in an intelligent fashion. You'd have a good deal of latitude for individual action."

Janice moved her chair. Wayne watched her. Her top chafed. Her nipples swelled.

Wayne said, "No sale."

Wayne Senior lit a cigarette. "I've diversified. You figured that out at Christmas, and you've started coming back for visits again. You should know that I'll be doing some very interesting things for Mr. Hoover."

Wayne yelled, "Pull!" Janice tossed a clay. Wayne nailed it. His ears popped. His bad hand throbbed.

"I'm not going to hide under a sheet and rat off mail violators, so that you can sell more hate tracts."

"You've been talking to Ward Littell. You're in a vulnerable state, and men like Littell and Bondurant are starting to look good to you."

The sun hit the deck. Wayne squinted it off.

"They remind me of you."

"I won't take that as a compliment."

"You shouldn't."

"I'll say it once. Don't be seduced by lowlifes and thieves."

"It won't happen. I've resisted you for twenty-nine years."

Janice left for golf. Wayne Senior left for cards. Wayne stayed alone at the ranch.

He set up the gun room. He spooled the film in. He watched.

Said film ran high-contrast. Black and white skin/black & white stock.

King shut his eyes. King went ecstatic. King preached in Little Rock. He saw him live in '57.

The woman bit her lips. Lynette always did that. The woman had Barb-style hair.

It hurt. He watched anyway. King thrashed and threw sweat.

The film blurred--lens haze and distortion. The skin tones blurred--King went Wendell Durfee-dark.

It hurt. He watched anyway.

40.

(Dallas, 2/13/64)

10:00 p.m.--lights out.

The women's tier. Twelve cells. One inmate locked up.

Pete walked in. The jailer went ssshh. A Carlos guy bribed him last night.

One cell row. One side wall. Barred-window light.

Pete walked down. His heart thumped. His arms pinged. His pulse misfired. He swilled scotch outside. The jailer supplied it. He shut down. He fueled up. He carved some will out.

He walked. He grabbed at the cell bars. He anchored himself.

There's Betty Mac.

She's on her bunk. She's smoking. She's wearing tight capris.

She saw him. She blinked. I KNOW him. He warned me last-- She screamed. He pulled her up. She bit at his nose. She stabbed him with her cigarette.

She burned his lips. She burned his nose. She burned his neck. He threw her. She hit the bars. He grabbed her neck and pinned her.

He ripped her capris. He tore a leg free. She screamed and dropped her cigarette.

He looped the leg. He looped her neck. He cinched her. He threw her up. He stretched the leg. He looped a crossbar.

She thrashed. She kicked. She swung. She clawed her neck. She broke her nails. She coughed her dentures out.

He remembered that she had a cat.

41.

(Las Vegas/Los Angeles/Chicago/Washington, D.C./Chattanooga, 2/14/64--6/29/64)

He worked. He lived on planes. He compartmentalized.

Legal work: appeals and contracts. Money work: embezzlement and tithes.

He honed his lies. He studied Jane. He learned her lie technique. He juggled his commitments.

3/4/64: Jimmy Hoffa goes down. Chattanooga--the Test Fleet case--twelve bribe-proof jurors.

Littell filed appeals. Teamster lawyers filed writs. The Teamsters passed a resolution: We love Jimmy Hoff a. We stand behind him intact.

Jimmy got eight years Fed time. Trial #2 pends. Chicago--Pension Fund Fraud--a probable conviction.

The "real" books were safe. The Boys had them. The fund-book plan would GO.

Littell wrote briefs. Jimmy's men swooned. Littell wrote more briefs. Littell filed more writs. Littell swamped the courts.

Let's stall. Let's keep Jimmy out. Let's stall and delay--three years and up. Drac will own Vegas then. The Boys will own Drac. The fund-book plan will FLY.

He worked for Drac. He wrote stock briefs. Drac hindered him. Drac dodged subpoenas. PI Fred Otash helped.

Otash ran look-alikes--Howard Hughes clones--subpoena men served them thus. Otash was capable. Otash had Pete skills. Otash pulled shakedowns. Otash doped horses. Otash fixed scrapes.

Drac stuck to his coffin. Mormons tended him. Drac sucked blood. Drac ate Demerol. Drac shot codeine. Drac made phone calls. Drac wrote memos. Drac watched cartoons.

Drac called Littell frequently. Drac monologued: Stock strategy/stock margins/the germ plague. Quell all microbes! Quell all germs! Place condoms on doorknobs!

Drac craved Las Vegas. Drac bared his fangs. Drac coveted. Drac gloated. Drac sucked blood.

He babied Drac. He coddled Drac. He bared his fangs. He bit Drac back.

Jane helped.

He coaxed assistance from her. He gleaned her expertise. He loved her. She loved him. He called it true. She lied to live. He lied to live. It might serve to undermine his perception.

They lived in L.A. They flew to D.C. They enjoyed work weekends. He wrote briefs. Jane wrote Hertz reports. They toured D.C. and viewed statues.

He tried to show her the Teamster building. She flushed and balked. She was too firm. She played him skewed. She was mock indifferent.

He flashed back to L.A.--one recent chat.

He said, "I can get you work with the Teamsters." She said, "No." She was intractable. She came off skewed then.

She knew the Boys. She avoided Vegas. The Boys partied there. They discussed it. Jane was oblique. Jane was mock indifferent.

The Teamsters scared her. He knew it. She knew he knew. She lied. She omitted. He reciprocated.

He studied Jane. He indulged conclusions. Her real name was Arden. She did come from Mississippi. She did go to school in De Kalb.

He was suspicious. She reciprocated.

She viewed some Hughes bill sheets. She studied them. She explained embezzlement detection. She wondered why he cared.

He lied. He used her. She helped him bilk Howard Hughes.

He stole vouchers. He forged ledgers. He retallied accounts. He rerouted payments. He billed to a dummy account.

His account--Chicago--the Mercantile Bank.

He laundered the money. He cut checks. He tithed the SCLC. Pseudonymous checks--sixty grand so far--more checks en route.

Penance payments. Damage control. Covert ops against the FBI.

He donated Mob money. Mr. Hoover kept tabs. He met Bayard Rustin. He paid him.

Mr. Hoover thought he knew Littell. Mr. Hoover misread his commitments. Mr. Hoover spent phone time with Littell. Mr. Hoover misread his loyalty.

Mr. Hoover talked to his correspondents. Mr. Hoover leaked dirt off bug placements. Mr. Hoover attacked Dr. King. Newsmen received invective. They rephrased it. They printed it. They obscured the source.

Mr. Hoover talked. Bayard Rustin talked. Lyle Holly talked. They all talked civil rights.

LBJ pushed his big civil-rights bill. Mr. Hoover loathed it--but: Age 70 bodes. Forced retirement bodes. LBJ says, "Stay and strut your stuff."

Mr. Hoover gives thanks. That means quid pro quo. LBJ says, "Now fight my Klan war."

Mr. Hoover agrees. Mr. Hoover complies. The New Klan is outre. Mr. Hoover knows it.

The Old Klan moved hate tracts. The Old Klan burned crosses. The Old Klan severed balls. Castration was a State crime. Mail fraud was Fed.

The Old Klan rigged postage meters. The Old Klan stole stamps. The Old Klan mailed hate tracts. They thus broke Fed laws.

Their mail content was legal. Their mail methods were fraud. The FBI fought the Old Klan. Their mandate was minutiae. Their anti-Klan credentials were soft.

The New Klan was arson. The New Klan was Murder One. The flash point was Mississippi.