Clay something.
That was his name. Clay...

Clay Bertrand?
I don't know.

Maybe not.
No, thas right.

I must go.
He was in the Warren Report.
He got Oswald a lawyer.

Was Kennedy discussed?
I don't know.
The assassination?

Not with me. I've got to go.
Hold on.

Thas all I'll say.
Whas the problem?

Do I have to spell it out for you?
Nobody knows what
we're talking about here.

Oh, you are so naive.
When'd you do business with Bertrand?
Pipe the bimbo in red.

She's not as cute as you.
You should try a legitimate business.
Why are you dancing on my head?

We've been friends since law school.
Because you're conning me.

I read your testimony.
Grain of salt.

You said Clay Bertrand called you
the day after the assassination...

...and asked you to be Oswald's lawyer.

Thas pretty important.
You told the FBI he's 6-foot two.
Then you tell the Commission he's 5-foot 8.

How the hell does a man shrink like that?
They put the heat on me, like you. I gave
them whatever popped in my cabeza.

Truth is, I never met the dude.
One likes friends that have friends.

I don't know what that cat looks like
or where he's at.

All I know is sometimes
he sends me some cases.

One day he calls, talks to me
about repping Oswald in Dallas.

You ever speak to Oswald in Dallas?
I told that Bertrand cat right off
this ain't my scene.

I'm a hack. He needs a hot dog.
Then how did you get in the Commission?