To Kill a President by By Marc james Page A

know him?”
    “Not personally, I know of him Lansky has mentioned him before. I think he was involved in some smuggling operations for the mob.”  He obviously knew the name for other reasons but he could hardly tell Nancy that.
    “I’d say Derrick was probably lucky he was punished by law enforcement rather than Ruby.  What did you say was Derrick’s surname?”
    “Funny thing it’s the same as yours Stinson, I already asked him about it he says you’re no relation.”
    How little he knew Bobby thought.  “Tell you what, get Derrick to swing by the office I might have some work I can throw his way.”
    “Oh thank you Bobby that would be amazing, it won’t get you in any trouble will it?”
    “No no, Ruby’s a scumbag they know that.  Besides I wasn’t planning on announcing it to the mob.”
    “Shall I call him and ask him to pop by today?”
    “Um no I might be a bit busy today, Monday will be fine.  Any calls?”
    “Yes two I left the note on your desk.”
    Bobby walked through to his office and sat down in his leather chair behind the mahogany desk.  He glanced at his watch it was only 09:30, he was already exhausted.  He had tried not to think about what Faraday had said, surely he couldn’t have been involved.  He was a lawyer just because he had represented Oswald it didn’t mean that he had tipped off Ruby.  His thoughts turned to his grandfather, until today he hadn’t even known his name and now he wished it had stayed that way.  What the hell had he been thinking getting in a fight with Ruby in his club?  He was lucky to walk out of there.  It’s a home of crooked cops and low level mobsters.
    He looked on his desk and found the note that Nancy had left, there was one call from Wray Gill and another from Chauncey Holt.  He debated over which call to answer first.  It wasn’t that he disliked Wray it was just that he was a stereotypical lawyer.  You couldn’t trust him he would tell you one thing and do another.  He couldn’t deny that Wray was a talented lawyer.  He specialised in criminal defence and at the moment he was working for the New Orleans mob boss Carlos Marcello. Marcello was a good friend of Meyer Lansky’s and they had recently opened a New Orleans casino.  Wray would probably be calling about the accounts that Bobby was working on.  Although he wasn’t a qualified accountant he had shown real nous in that area.  Lansky had been a good teacher and had always praised Bobby’s accounting prowess after Al Capone was imprisoned for tax evasion.  Bobby had been the one to suggest they move their money to an account in Switzerland.  It was creative accounting that was responsible not only for an increase in the take but for keeping yourself out of prison.  That was the reason that Lansky could outlive other mobsters, he was just far more intelligent.  Despite being Jewish Lansky had made his way to the top of the Italian Mafia, and they aren’t keen on outsiders.                  
    Chauncey on the other hand was an old friend.  He had been in the employ of Lansky for years.  He had led a difficult life and he looked much older than his forty one years. He was in the US Army for years before being court marshalled for attacking a fellow soldier with the butt of his rifle.  He eventually fled from the Army after the Pearl Harbour attacks and he had spent time in prison in the 40’s.  In 1950 he entered the employ of Lansky, his duty was essentially the creation of false documents and Bobby had planned on calling him anyway on behalf of Jane and Faraday.
    He decided to call Chauncey first it would doubtless prove to be more enjoyable.  He dialled and the phone rang out twice before it was answered.
    “Hello?”  Chauncey sounded tense.
    “Chauncey, Bobby Stinson how are you?”
    “Bobby, I’m good you keeping busy?
    “As always Chauncey, Nancy said you called I was actually going to call you this morning anyway.”
    “Oh