JFK Page #9

The camera moves back to the staff, who watch, obviously

influenced.

COX:

That ties it up...

NUMA:

Another nut. Jesus, anybody can get

a rifle in Texas.

BILL:

(hangs up)

So it seems that Dave Ferrie drove

off on a Friday afternoon for Texas -

a source told Kohlman he might have

been a getaway pilot for Oswald.

Members of the team exchange looks of surprise and disbelief.

JIM:

Hold your horses. What kinda source?

BILL:

(grins)

The anonymous kind, Chief.

OSER:

I think I remember this guy Ferrie

speaking at a meeting of some

veteran's group. Ranting against

Castro. Extreme stuff.

NEWSMAN 1

We go back now to the basement of

police headquarters where they're

about to transfer Oswald to County

Prison...

TELEVISION IMAGE: The basement of the Dallas police

headquarters - waiting. Men mill around as Oswald is led

out of the basement by two deputies. Jack Ruby rushes forward

out of the crowd - and into history - putting his sealing

bullet into Oswald. Total chaos erupts...

The camera is on the staff, looking. We hear gasps.

ANNOUNCER:

He's been shot! Oswald's been shot!

VARIOUS VOICES:

Goddamn! Look at that... Look at

that... I don't believe this... Right

on TV! What is going on? Who is

this guy... oh Jesus.

Jim is silent.

LOU:

Seventy cops in that basement. What

the hell were they doing?

NEWSMAN 1

Jack Ruby... Who is Jack Ruby? Oswald

is hurt.

We see images of Oswald being lifted onto the stretcher,

into the ambulance, and the newscaster crouching, whispering.

Everybody in the room is stunned still.

LOU:

Well, no trial now. Looks like

somebody saved the Dallas D.A. a

pile of work.

They look to Jim. There's a pause. He is deeply disturbed.

JIM:

(quietly)

Well, let's get Ferrie in here anyway.

GARRISON OFFICE - NEXT DAY - DAY(1963)

The portable television plays to Jim alone, sitting in his

chair smoking a pipe. We see searing images of the funeral -

crowds of mourners, the casket being driven through the

streets, the honor guards, the horses, the dignitaries walking

behind, Jackie veiled... the faces of De Gaulle, MacMillan,

Robert Kennedy. We intercut briefly to Lyndon Johnson sitting

down earlier that day with the Joint Chiefs of Staff... and

then a future cut to Johnson in the Oval Office (staged).

The shots are very tight, uncomfortable - noses, eyes, hands -

very tight.

As the door opens following a knock, David Ferrie is brought

into Jim's office by two police officers and Lou Ivon. Jim

stands up, cordial.

LOU:

Chief... David Ferrie.

Ferrie suffers from alopecia, a disease that has removed all

his body hair, and he looks like a Halloween character -

penciled eyebrows, one higher than the other, a scruffy

reddish wig pasted on askew with glue, thrift store clothing.

His eyes, however, are swift and cunning, his smile warm,

inviting itself, his demeanor hungry to please.

JIM:

(shakes hands)

Come in, Dave. Have a seat, make

yourself comfortable. Coffee?

FERRIE:

Do you remember me, Mr. Garrison? I

met you on Carondolet Street right

after your election. I congratulated

you, remember?

JIM:

How could I forget? You make quite

a first impression.

(on intercom)

Sharon, could you please bring us

some coffee?

(Ferrie laughs; pause)

I've heard over the years you're

quite a first-rate pilot, Dave.

Legend has it you can get in and out

of any field, no matter how small...

(Jim points to the

pictures on his wall)

I'm a bit of a pilot myself, you

know. Flew grasshoppers for the

field artillery in the war.

Ferrie glimpses the low-volumed TV - and images of the

funeral. He looks away, jittery, and takes out a cigarette.

Sharon brings the coffee in.

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