JFK Page #25

The camera pauses on Ruby's face. The men rise and leave in

the shadows.

PARKLAND MEMORIAL HOSPITAL - (1967)

Jack Ruby is escorted out of the infirmary, dead of cancer.

BROUSSARD'S RESTAURANT - NEW ORLEANS - (1967)

The puffy, smiling face of Dean Andrews, framed by huge black

glasses, talks in a Louisiana hippie argot of the 50's. The

restaurant has a fancy French decor, mirrored walls, marble -

it serves the cream of Louisiana society.

ANDREWS:

Why you keep dancing on my head for,

my man? We been thicker'n molasses

pie since law school.

JIM:

Because you keep conning me, Dean.

I read your testimony to the Warren

Commission and...

ANDREWS:

There you go. Grain of salt. Two

sides to every coin.

JIM:

You tell them the day after the

assassination you were called on the

phone by this "Clay Bertrand" and

asked to fly to Dallas and be Lee

Oswald's layer.

ANDREWS:

Right.

JIM:

Now that's pretty important, Dean.

You also told the FBI when you met

him, he was six foot two. Then you

tell the Commission he was five foot

eight. How the hell did the man

shrink like that, Dean?

ANDREWS:

They put the heat on, my man, just

like you're doing. I gave'em anything

that popped into my cabeza. Truth

is, I never met the dude.

Sudden FLASHBACK to Andrews' office on a day in 1963. Clay

Bertrand sits, back to us, talking to Andrews. He has close-

cropped white hair. He is the same patrician man we've seen

earlier with Oswald on Canal Street and in Banister's office.

Andrews is evidently lying.

ANDREWS:

I don't know what the cat looks like

and furthermore I don't know where

he's at. All I know is sometimes he

sends me cases. So one day he's on

the phone talkin' to me about going

to Dallas and repping Oswald...

(notices a woman, in

present)

Hey, pipe the bimbo in red. What

ever happened to that little gal you

was dating in the Quarter - from

Opelousas, y'know, elevator didn't

go to the top floor but tits could

smother gumbo with.

Jim, in present, looking briefly - a pretty girl walking in.

JIM:

(remembering)

Yeah, she was pretty, all right, but

not half as cute as you, Deano. You

shoulda tried a legitimate line of

business.

ANDREWS:

(chuckles)

You can't ever say crime don't pay

in Louisiana, Jim - only not as good

as it used to. Good chowder, ain't

it?

JIM:

When did you first do business with

this Bertrand?

ANDREWS:

(bored)

Oh, I first heard these street cats

jiving about him back in '56, '57

when I lived down in the Quarter.

JIM:

Street cats?

ANDREWS:

Swishes. They swish, y'know. Young

fags, you know. They'd come into my

bureau needing help, no bread, and

I'd say, hey man, I ain't Rockefeller,

who gonna back you up? These

cornmuffins go to the phone and

dial...

FLASHBACK TO Andrews' office on another day in 1963. We

catch a glimpse of a young swish sitting in Andrew's office

talking on the phone. Andrews is also on the phone to

Bertrand, unseen, on the other end.

ANDREWS:

The dude on the other end says...

CLAY BERTRAND:

I'm Clay Bertrand. Whatever they

owe, I guarantee.

ANDREWS:

Hey, suits me fine, Daddy Warbucks -

how do I get in touch with you?

CLAY BERTRAND:

I'm around.

ANDREWS (V.O.)

And that's how I first heard of Clay

Bertrand.

JIM (V.O.)

What was his voice like?

ANDREWS:

You knew you weren't talking to some

low life fag, you know. He had

command of the king's English.

JIM:

Did he pay?

ANDREWS:

Always - like tits on a pig. I wish

I had a million of those bimbettes.

JIM:

And Oswald?

ANDREWS:

(just a slight

hesitation)

Like I told to the Washington boys,

Bertrand called that summer and asked

me to help the kid upgrade his Marine

discharge...

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