It was November 21st and I, Laura Berman, was sitting in a parlor with the one and only John F. Kennedy. The parlor wasn’t grand, honestly it almost drab, but it had a quaint homey feel to it. It was almost as if it had held a life much simpler than ours. I sat on the arm of a La-Z-boy with a glass of whiskey in my right hand. My left arm was around Ronnie Kray’s shoulders. I watched Jack sit with Jackie on a small couch, talking with Reggie. Few people knew about the Kray’s involvement with Jack. It didn’t last long, Reggie and Ron weren’t fond of him, actually not in the least. Reggie was at least civil about it, pretended to like him for business’ sake. Ron was a different story. Ron didn’t like liars. He couldn’t stand Jack or anything …show more content…
It was bittersweet really, and kind of sad. Reggie would be on one of his “down-the-rabbit-hole” conversations. Jack would look at Jackie and roll his eyes. Jackie would smile with a silent giggle, neither of them realizing this was just misdirection. Jack and Robert, Jack’s brother, had been biting the hand that fed them. Their father had made a lot of money during the prohibition. He worked closely with those referred to as the “Mafia” or the “Mob”. Those same “contacts” had made the vote tallies in Chicago exceed the living population. They also made possible other “anomalies” throughout the election. By putting Robert in as Attorney General, Jack ruined the Mob’s plan. Reggie and Ronnie were the perfect answer to the problem. They weren’t American Mafia. They were the Firm. They had no known ties to the Mob. As far as American law enforcement was concerned, they didn’t exist. A basic rule of thumb for any “hit” is to get someone out of town to do it. So if you want to have a hit in Dallas, what’s more out of town than the East End of London? Still, Reggie rambled on, cursing and crying, talking about Scotland Yard, and Nipper Read. All that blather was designed to wrap Jack and Jackie in a warm, safe cocoon of fog and deception. I rather hated it for them, knowing that Jack was already dead. Even though that stupid commie, Oswald, wouldn’t pull the trigger till the next afternoon. Jackie asked me “what’s wrong dear?” It startled me. I realized I had zoned out, just a little. Jackie was leaning over, whispering in my ear. I replied, “Oh,