why you keep dancing on my head for, my man? we been thicker'n molasses pie since law school.
there you go. grain of salt. two sides to every coin.
right.
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.
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.  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.
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?
oh, i first heard these street cats jiving about him back in '56, '57 when i lived down in the quarter.
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.
the dude on the other end says.
hey, suits me fine, daddy warbucks - how do i get in touch with you?
and that's how i first heard of clay bertrand.
you knew you weren't talking to some low life fag, you know. he had command of the king's english.
always - like tits on a pig. i wish i had a million of those bimbettes.
like i told to the washington boys, bertrand called that summer and asked me to help the kid upgrade his marine discharge.
three, four. he came in with a few cubano swishes one time i remember.
mario, jose - they wear names like you and i wear clothes. today the name is candy, tomorrow it's butsie. i wish i could help you, jim.
hell, no! i told this bertrand cat right off, this isn't my scene, man. i deal with muni court, i'm a hack in nigger town, that kid needs a hot dog.
there were no phone records.
i don't know how they got to me. maybe cause i repped him here. the feebees run background checks. on my mama's breasts, man, that's all i got. there wasn't no conspiracy, jim. if there were, why the hell didn't bobby kennedy prosecute it as attorney general, he was his brother for chrissake. how the fuck three people could keep a secret like that, i don't know. it was oswald. he was a nut job. faggot, y'know, hated this country.
is this off the record, daddy-o? in that case, let me sum it up for you real quick. if i answer that question you keep asking me, if i give you the name of the "big enchilada", y'know, then it's bon voyage, deano - i mean like permanent. i mean like a bullet in my head. you dig? does that help you see my problem a little better? you're a mouse fighting a gorilla. kennedy's dead as that crab meat. the government's still breathing. you want to line up with a dead man?
you're just as crazy as your mama. goes to show it's in the genes! do you have any idea what you're getting into, my man? you think jack ruby just up and died of cancer in four weeks after he gets a retrial? that's some kinda new cancer - i'd say that's a "going out of business cancer". you got the right ta-ta, but the wrong ho-ho. the government's gonna jump all over your head, jimbo, and go "cock-a-doodledoo!"
figment of my imagination.  the cat's stewing me, the oyster's shucking me i told him, you got the right at-at but the wrong oh-oh.  bertrand is not shaw, scout's honor and you can tell him i said so.