The Legacy by Stephen Frey Page A

traveling through Kennedy, smashing Governor Connallys rib and his wrist, then lodging in his thigh, the bullet they found on Connallys stretcher at Parkland Hospital looked as if it had never been fired. It had lost less than three percent of its original weight, less than three grains. Ive fired a lot of bullets from a lot of different guns in my time, and I can tell you that doesnt happen, not after smashing through two bones, anyway. That bullet should have looked like a piece of chewed gum. Smith paused.
    Go on, Cole urged.
    Mmm. Smith rubbed his chin again. Well, then the killing shot came. It tore the top of President Kennedys head right off, at least thats what it looked like from where we were. It was really more to the side, but it was awful, regardless.
    Cole felt his stomach churn. The Dealey Tape had graphically illustrated how awful that moment was. And then?
    Your father and I decided immediately to assist. We werent on duty, so we were dressed in street clothes. We realized that not being in uniform could create a problem because the in-uniform people wouldnt recognize us as law officers, but we didnt care. We had to help. It was instinct.
    Your father ran south on the tracks, then down onto Commerce Street and into the plaza. I went north back toward the train yard. As I got to the other side of the bridge, I saw a man running away from the fence behind the grassy knoll. He was carrying what looked like a tool box. I chased him, but I couldnt catch him. He had too much of a lead. Smith shook his head. I guess I was that damn close to making history.
    Me too, Cole murmured, remembering the man with the scar smiling smugly as he snatched the Dealey Tape. Then my father must have taken the film away from someone as he ran across Dealey Plaza.
    Smith nodded. Not just someone, son, he took it away from your mother. Smith saw shock register on Coles face. A young woman named Andrea Sage.
    Here was the answer to another of those long-unanswered questions. Coles aunt and uncle had claimed all these years not to know his mothers name or anything about her except that, according to his father, she had died when Cole was a year old. They said they had never met her, and explained that his father had fallen out of touch with everyone in the family after a secret wedding to a mysterious woman. Then he had brought one-year-old Cole to live with them, and disappeared again.
    So my mothers maiden name was Sage, Cole said quietly.
    Yes, Smith confirmed. Thats why I asked you to identify yourself with your middle name on the phone. Your middle name was her maiden name. Your father said he never told anyone that except me. I wanted to make certain the person who picked up the phone on the trading floor was the person I was looking for. I couldnt take a chance that the wrong person got hold of that envelope. I waited in the reception area until I saw that you had it.
    So his aunt and uncle hadnt been lying all these years. They really hadnt known anything about his parents. He had always suspected that they might be withholding information because his parents were criminals and his aunt and uncle didnt want him to know the truth.
    Why wasnt Andrea Sage up with the two of you on the railroad overpass?
    She wasnt Jims wife at that point. In fact, he had no idea who she was. They met for the first time in Dealey Plaza seconds after President Kennedy was shot, though they didnt really have much of a chance to introduce themselves properly. Smith smiled. God, it really all fits together now.
    What fits together? Cole asked impatiently.
    Smith pried a splinter from the tabletop, inspected it briefly, then flicked it away. One morning a few days after the killing a very pretty young woman walked into the Dallas police headquarters and announced that she had recorded the Kennedy assassination on a Bell & Howell spring-wound movie camera. Andrea Sage was that pretty young woman, and she said she was certain the film could shed light on