I am an attorney at law, duly licensed to practice in this State.

During the Presidential Campaign of 1968, I was a full time college student at California State University, and was also working part-time as a photographer for Copley News Service and the Culver City Star News.  In that capacity, I was assigned to travel with and cover the Robert Kennedy Presidential campaign.

I traveled on Senator Kennedy’s plane, along with other members of the news media, through California and Oregon.  I spent time speaking to Senator Kennedy and his wife, and had no difficulty gaining excellent camera advantage to document the events taking place.

On the evening of the 1968 California primary, I was present at the Ambassador Hotel in a room directly adjacent to Senator Kennedy’s.  We had been awaiting election results.  Eventually the Senator and his staff left to go downstairs to the Embassy Room to deliver a victory speech.  I accompanied the Senator on the elevator, and entered an area of the Embassy Room set aside for press photographers.

During the Senator’s speech, a scuffle broke out where I was standing among several news photographers, and I was hit in the face with a large newsreel camera.  My camera was also broken in the scuffle, and I decided to go to a quiet area to attempt repairs.  I immediately went into the Embassy Room pantry area, arriving there about 5 minutes prior to the end of the Senator’s speech.

Nothing in the pantry area seemed unusual, however, I do recall the following.  Two men who looked very similar in appearance and clothing were moving about the pantry area.  One man was wearing lighter clothing than the other, and he was holding a drink glass in his hand.  The 2^nd man was standing near the south wall of the pantry, directly across from a large metal serving table.  The men never stood together, however, they appeared to be looking at each other from time-to-time.  I did not pay particular attention to the 2^nd man, although I do recall thinking that he was the other man’s brother.  I assumed that they were in the pantry to avoid the large crowd in the Embassy Room.

At one point, the man with the drink asked me how long the Senator’s speech would last, and I told him I did not know.  He also asked hotel kitchen employees in the pantry where he could get some ice for his drink, and they directed him to an ice machine next to the door leading into the Embassy Room.  The man with the drink was Sirhan Sirhan.

When the Senator entered the pantry, he was followed by a crowd of reporters and guests.  I was standing at the entrance to the pantry, and walked along the Senator’s right side until he paused near the metal serving table inside the pantry.  There appeared to be some confusion at that time with some persons telling the Senator to go back up the freight elevator, and others telling him to go into an adjacent room (I believe the California Room) where the press were waiting.  I assumed he would go to meet the press, and I took a few steps in front of him.  I was facing the Senator’s right side at that time, about 4 feet away.  It was at this time that shooting began.

I saw the 2^nd man (wearing the darker clothing) who had been in the pantry with Sirhan during the speech pointing a gun in an upward angle at the Senator.  Based on the sound I heard, I believe the first shot came from this man’s gun.  In the background, about 6-8 feet from me, I could see Sirhan firing a revolver held in his right hand in the direction of the Senator.  People in the crowd were screaming and grabbing Sirhan, and I remember they were holding his arm as he was shooting.  I cannot say how many shots were fired by Sirhan or by the second gunman.

As the crowd rushed towards Sirhan, they passed by the 2^nd gunman.  He was backing away, towards the east end of the pantry.  I was shoved by the surge of the crowd back against the south wall of the pantry, where I was alone next to another door that exited into the Embassy Room.

At that time, I observed the 2^nd gunman running in my direction.  He was not holding a gun at that time.  Another man was running behind him in the same direction yelling at me, “Stop that guy, stop him.”  There was no one else other than the 2^nd gunman that he could have been yelling at.  This took place just as I was opening the door to the Embassy Room to get some help.

As the 2^nd gunman came to the door, the man pursuing him yelled to me again, “Get him, get it!”  As the 2^nd gunman passed through the door, the man pursuing him tried to grab him but failed.  Both men ran into the Embassy Room.  The 2^nd gunman ran directly out the east doors of the Embassy Room.  The man running after him almost fell as he came through the pantry doors, and he continued running in the same direction as the second gunman.  I never saw either of these men again.

I went back into the pantry, and soon realized I could be of little help.  I tried preventing people from entering the room, and hotel staff soon took over that task.  I then went back upstairs to the Senator’s room, speaking briefly with Milton Berle, one of the few people who had stayed behind when the Senator had gone downstairs.

I place a couple of phone calls from the room to my family to advise them that I was not injured in the shooting.  I assumed they had been watching the events on live television.  I then returned to the pantry, where I gave my name, address and phone number to an LAPD officer who had arrived at the scene.  I then left the Ambassador Hotel, eventually going home.

It was not until several weeks later that I was contacted by LAPD to give a statement.  My recollection is that over a month went by until I was asked to come to Parker Center to speak to detectives investigating the case.  I met with several LAPD detectives, and told them what I have stated above.  They asked me to look through photographs taken in the Embassy Room the night of the shooting, and to point myself out.  After doing this, I was asked whether or not the man pursuing the 2^nd gunman could have been yelling, “Get an ambulance” or “Get a doctor.”  I told them that was not correct, but they insisted I had been incorrect in what I heard.  Although I have a description of the man who pursued the 2^nd gunman, I was never asked to look for him in photos, or otherwise produce a drawing of him.  I made it very clear that the 2^nd gunman look very much like Sirhan, except that his clothing was darker in color and coordinated.

At the end of my interview, the detectives asked me to send them all my photographs I had taken of the Senator.  They said they wanted to try to locate Sirhan in the crowds.  They promised to return the negatives to me, however, they never did, insisting they had been mixed up with all the others.

I was eventually contacted by the FBI, who interviewed me at my home.  They asked me specific questions, mainly about Sirhan.  They seemed to be avoiding asking me questions about the 2^nd gunman, although I told them the same things I have stated above.

Other than a news crew sent to my home by Baxter Ward (Channel 9 News) several years later, I have never spoken to the press about these events.  I have never desired publicity in this matter, and I have no opinion as to who fired the shot or shots that killed Senator Kennedy.  My purpose in making these statements now is to help insure that a fair investigation is conducted in this case.

I declare under penalty of perjury that the foregoing is true and correct.  Executed this 13^th day of May, 1992, at Los Angeles, California.

____________________

EVAN PHILLIP FREED

Sirhan         I don’t remember – I could have – but I don’t remember, although I found some coffee, sir.

Q.                  When you say you found some coffee was there something that you saw?

Sirhan         Yes, sir, there was a big urn (gesturing).

Q.                  You are indicating about three and a half feet in width?

Sirhan         Yes, sir, it was a very big one.

Q.                  What color was it?

Sirhan         It was shiny.  I don’t know what color it was.

Q.                  Like silver?

Sirhan         Yes, sir, probably.

Q.                  Were there coffee cups around it?

Sirhan         There were piles and piles of saucer cups and saucers.

Q.                  No mirrors?

Sirhan         There were no mirrors there.

Q.                  Did you see any people there?

Sirhan         I don’t remember, sir.  I was so glad to have found the coffee that that was the only thing on my mind, sir.

Q.                  Did somebody pour you a cup of coffee?

Sirhan         No, as I was pouring my own coffee some girl came up and said that she wanted some coffee too, and I like my coffee with cream and sugar, lots of cream, and that’s exactly the way she liked it.

Q.                  Did that surprise you?

Sirhan         Well, I thought I was the only one that liked too much cream in his coffee.  So I gave her the cup that I had meant for myself and poured myself another cup.

Q.                  Was that girl alone or was there someone with her?

Sirhan         I don’t remember exactly, sir.

Q.                  Do you have any idea approximately how old she was?

Sirhan         About my age.

Q.                  A good looking girl?

Sirhan         Beautiful.

Q.                  Did you engage her in conversation?

Sirhan         As long as the coffee was being served I told her how I would like to drink some coffee too.

Q.                  How much coffee did you have, if you recall?

Sirhan         I don’t remember, sir, how much.

Q.                  What happened next?

Sirhan         I don’t remember.

Q.                  What was the next thing you did?

Sirhan         The next thing I remember, sir, I was being choked.

Q.                  Do you remember anything between the time you had the coffee, anything?

Sirhan         No, sir.  No, I don’t remember.

Q.                  Now, you have heard the testimony in here of at least a dozen witnesses I suppose?

Sirhan         Yes.

Q.                  That you were standing in the pantry?

Sirhan         That is what I later learned in this court, sir.

Q.                  Well, you learned it before that?

Sirhan         Yes, I did, Mr. Parsons, that is.

Q.                  That you walked up to Senator Kennedy and put a gun toward his head, possibly within an inch or two and you pulled the trigger and he eventually died?

Sirhan         Yes.  I was told this.

Q.                  Now, you believe it is true?

Sirhan         Obviously, sir.

Q.                  Now after you were choked, you remember being choked?

Sirhan         I was choked, yes, quite severely.

Q.                  Do you remember the people who were choking you?

Sirhan         No, I don’t even know.

Q.                  As you were being choked it hurt you?

Sirhan         I don’t know who was doing the choking but he was doing a good job at it.

Q.                  What do you next remember?

Sirhan         I remember getting to the car, the police car, and one of the policemen pulling my hair and jerking my head backwards and putting a light for a long time in my eyes.

Q.                  Let me ask you this.  Did you know in the early morning hours, that is after midnight of the 4^th and the early morning hours of the 5^th of June, that you had shot Senator Robert Kennedy?

Sirhan         No, sir, I did not.

Q.                  When was the first time that you remembered that you were accused of shooting Senator Robert Kennedy?

Sirhan         When this Mr. Jordan, and this is the only man that I remember, because of his name, Jordan; that he took me to his courtroom and I was in front of a lady Judge.  I remember that.  I couldn’t believe it, sir.

Q.                  Now, let me ask you this, Sirhan.  You have told this jury that when you came to the Ambassador Hotel that night you didn’t come there with any intention of shooting Kennedy, is that right?

Sirhan         That is correct, sir.

Q.                  You don’t remember shooting him?

Sirhan         I don’t remember shooting him.

I went to a play in West Hollywood with my friend Rachel Menowitz.  She is a nice Jewish girl who hates Jesus but at least I don’t have to dumb down my vocabulary when on a date.  We have an unspoken détente.  She doesn’t insist I wear one of those Beanie and Cecil hats and I don’t try to convert her to Christianity.

The play was a one-man show called “The Awful Grace of God:  A Portrait of Robert Kennedy.”  I was mesmerized.  The actor, Jack Holmes, was so talented.  The writing, directing, lighting and sound was outstanding.  I was stunned walking out of the theater.  One thing was clear.  R.F.K’s story had not been told.  I’m not talking about his life which was covered brilliantly by the theater production.  I’m talking about his death.  His assassination.  I was aware of Mkultra and its significance with Sirhan and that Richard Helms used it to murder Robert Kennedy.  But I didn’t have the specifics.  My expertise was the JFK assassination not Robert Kennedy’s murder.  A short while later I ventured down to the Los Angeles Public Library.  I found a 1,500 page LAPD Summary Report of the Robert Kennedy assassination in the Rare Books section.  I wrote down my own summaries of their summaries.  I also ran into fellow researcher and author Jim Di Eugenio at the library.  I expressed pleasant surprise that the library had two copies of my book, JFK vs. CIA and told him about the hard copy of the LAPD Summary Report in Rare Books.

Next I traveled up to Sacramento and visited the California State Archives.  The Archives has considerable amount of RFK Assassination material.  I read the trial transcript, another version of the LAPD Summary Report this time with names included, made the poor staff wheel out all 1,500 remaining photographs of the case and viewed what film the Archives had.  Most important, I listened to several taped interviews LAPD recorded.  What sold me was the 4:00 a.m. Vince Di Pierro interview of June 5, 1968.  The tape is crystal clear.  The detectives at Rampart Station begin with, “So what can you tell us about this?”  Keeping in  mind it is only four hours after the shooting Vince begins his tale.  A part-time waiter and full time college student, Vince received a telephone call from his father, an assistant Maitre d’ at the hotel, to come down and meet Robert Kennedy.  Vince arrived after 11:00 p.m. and was put to work.  He started out guarding a door that leads from the pantry to the Embassy Room.  After Kennedy finished his victory speech Vince escorted RFK back through the double doors returning to the pantry.

Vince told the detectives of seeing a man further down the pantry standing on a tray stacker with a beautiful girl behind him.  She was sort of holding the man on the tray rack and the two were smiling at each other.  Vince said they had the same sick smile.  The girl was well built, 21, shoulder length brown hair and was wearing a white dress with black polka dots.  The man was Sirhan Sirhan.  The girl in the polka dot dress said something to Sirhan and he turned to look at Kennedy entering the pantry.  At this time Vince also turned toward Kennedy watching as he shook hands with the kitchen help.  Suddenly, the man Vince saw standing on the tray rack was now in front of Kennedy pointing a gun and firing at the Senator.  The detectives asked Vince if the girl had moved with the suspect and Vince said no, the girl had remained at the tray stacker.  So the polka dot dress girl that LAPD in their Summary Report tried so hard to dismiss as non-existent really exists.  What else exists?  I was hooked and not a bit happy.  Doing the research that is entailed isn’t so much like James Bond although it has its moments, but rather like George Smiley from “Smiley’s People.”  Meticulous.  Every sentence and every word evaluated and analyzed.  Dozens of notebooks to be filled.  Lists of suspects to be compiled.  Twenty seven microfilm reels to be read.  I dreaded it.  One obsession per lifetime should be enough.  Now two.

But it was the only way.  Robert Kennedy was expecting me to do the work.  Roll up my sleeves.  Get to work.  I could almost hear his voice.  Sirhan needed me to do it as well.  Forty years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.  I knew by comparing the autopsy report with the LAPD witness interview reports that Sirhan did not kill Bobby Kennedy.  Sirhan was always in front of and several feet away from Kennedy according to the eye witnesses.  On the other hand, the autopsy had a gun pointed behind Senator Kennedy’s right ear and being fired from one inch away.  Two other shots with the barrel of the gun pressed against Kennedy’s back coat were also reported.  Not Sirhan’s doing.  But if not Sirhan, who?  How?  The answers would be in those twenty seven micro film reels.

Returning to L.A. I began to study in earnest.  Becoming a fixture at the Central Library I started plowing through the material.  Arrest reports, broadcasts and teletypes, evidence files, investigators’ notes, tape summaries, case prep, 4,700 interview reports.  This was going to take a while.  In the meantime I started sending evidence material to Sirhan which proved he was innocent.  Sabrina Johnson who handles media questions for Corcoran State Prison where Sirhan is incarcerated, called and left me a message.  My correspondence would be given to Sirhan.  Great, I thought.  Although Sirhan is not allowed to write or have contact with anyone other than immediate family or his lawyer at least he would be able to receive my packets and come to realize his innocence.  I also realized the CIA would be reading everything I sent him and could follow my investigation in real time.  They would know what I was figuring out while I was figuring it out.  CIA wants to know if I’m clever enough to figure out how they did it and want this knowledge before I turn it into another book.  I surprised them with JFK vs CIA and they’re going to make sure there isn’t a second surprise.  We’ll see.

As I poured through the LAPD documents I was continually reminded of the agony that Sirhan’s mother went through.  What pain.  What horror.  You’re at work and someone notifies you that your son is in custody suspected of having shot Robert Kennedy.  Shock.  Disbelief.  Then the trial.  Next, the years of visiting your son in prison.  The anguish.  I needed to speak to Mary Sirhan.  I knew she would be quite elderly if alive but if she was still living I wanted to look in her eyes and tell her, “Your son did not kill Robert Kennedy.”

With this in mind I drove out to Pasadena.  Locating the Sirhan residence I drove by the house.  It looked lonely.  So this is where it all happened.  Sirhan used to walk out that door.  It was only a few blocks to his job at John Weidner’s health food store.  Mr. Weidner had given the job to Sirhan as a favor to Mary Sirhan whom he knew from church.  I had this address as well and drove over to what had been Organic Pasadena.  Another business now occupied the space and being a weekend it was empty.  I put my hands to the window peering in trying to picture Sirhan bustling about filling orders as Weidner barked his gruff, insensitive commands.  The two did not get along and after one final argument Sirhan quit on the spot demanding a final pay check.  The cops were called and a female employee speaking in Sirhan’s defense to the Pasadena Police then quit on the spot as well.  What a girl!  Whatever happened to her?

I got in my car and drove back over to the lonely house.  Was Mary Sirhan still alive?  Was the family still there?  What about the pink and white 1957 De Soto Sirhan used to drive.  I parked across the street and noticed a man and a teenage boy getting into a vehicle parked in the driveway behind the house.  I gingerly walked up to the car not wanting to get shot and asked the man sitting in the driver’s seat with the window rolled down if this was the Sirhan residence.  The man, looking over his left shoulder, asked, “Are you Calder?”  I said, “Yeah.”  “Just a minute,” he said parking the car down the driveway closer to the street.  Getting out of the car he walked towards me, shook my hand and said, “I’m Munir, Sirhan’s brother.  Sirhan said to work with you and give you anything you want.  This never happens.  He seems to be very impressed with you.”

For the next three hours we stood on the lawn and porch talking, me asking questions, Munir answering.  “What about the purchase of the gun?  Any strange telephone calls to trigger Sirhan?  Any girlfriends of Sirhan?”  Munir seemed a little stunned by my recall of minutia of the case.  He smiled when I asked about the pink and white De Soto while glancing back at the garage.  “That car was always breaking down.  Sirhan was always fixing it.  We sold it.”  I could tell this was going to be the start of a beautiful relationship.

The next few hours are a blur as the two of us spent the afternoon getting plastered.  I remember thinking I was glad Princess stood me up.  Guys talk differently when it’s just us as opposed to when there is a honey in our midst.  I remember we drew up a list of the women we most wanted to have sex with.  He laughed when he saw the name topping my list.  Vanity.  He knew her up in Canada.  Little did I know as my life sped by I would be fortunate to run into my dream girl on three separate occasions.

I knew from the autopsy of Kennedy that an unidentified gunman standing behind the senator fired point blank into the back of Kennedy’s head with two more shots entering the senator’s back.  But knowing this and proving it are two different things.  I need to identify or at least prove that such a gunman exists.

Since Paul was directly behind the senator coming into the pantry perhaps he saw someone slip between himself and Kennedy just before all hell broke loose.

I was also suspicious of one Jerry Bruno, the advance man.  Someone had set Kennedy up by bringing him into the kill zone.  Sirhan is waiting for Kennedy in the pantry as well as the mysterious girl in the polka dot dress.  The LAPD documents also inadvertently identify a support team backing up Sirhan as well as the actual gunman who shot Kennedy in the back of the head.  This group are not waiting in the pantry by accident.  Ten minutes before as Kennedy entered the pantry on his way to give his victory speech the pantry was empty except for a few kitchen workers.  This tidy group of traitors were ushered in while Kennedy was on stage.  What arose my suspicion is when coming to Jerry Bruno’s LAPD investigation interview report all that it says is “no interview.”  No interview!  How could that possibly be.  The Los Angeles Police Department interviewed 4,700 individuals but was not interested in interviewing the one person most responsible for Kennedy’s movements at the hotel that night.  Bullshit!  I checked the JFK Presidential Library for Jerry Bruno documents.  Apparently every little thing Jerry Bruno did for the Kennedy brothers as the advance man is in the files except for one glaring omission.  April, May and June of 1968 are missing from the Jerry Bruno papers.  These are the very months covering the Robert Kennedy campaign for the Presidency.  Where are the records?  Why are they missing?  Did some agency read them and realize they implicated Jerry Bruno in Kennedy’s murder and had them removed?  I spoke to a librarian at the JFK Presidential Library and he had no answer why April, May and June of 1968 were missing from the Bruno papers.  Now I was doubly suspicious.  Also, Jerry Bruno was President Kennedy’s advance man and responsible for the trip to Dallas including planning the motorcade route.  Could Jerry Bruno have set up the murders of both Kennedy brothers?  A month after my inquiry I went back into the JFK Library web site.  Now a notice was up saying all of the Jerry Bruno papers were off limits.  My suspicion of Bruno’s involvement was tripled.  Anyone getting nervous at Langley?  It’s just beginning brother.

I have a photo of Jerry Bruno and want Paul to ID the photo and ask him if he saw Bruno at the hotel that night and most important – when.  According to Jerry Bruno’s own account in his book, “The Advance Man,” he was on a 10:00 p.m. flight out of LAX heading back east.  RFK was shot shortly after midnight.  I’m betting Jerry Bruno never made that flight.  I’m betting Jerry Bruno remained at the hotel making sure Kennedy was directed back through the pantry and to his death.  I need at least two eye witnesses to verify Jerry Bruno’s presence at the hotel close to midnight.  Maybe Paul can tell me.  I called Paul and made an appointment.

As I drove up into the Hollywood Hills winding along Mulholland I felt like a plebian visiting a Roman senator at his palatial estate.  Maybe I should ask Paul if he can get me into the union.  I’d like to live in the Hollywood Hills in a forest surrounded by white people.  Sign me up.  As soon as I parked in the driveway up a short hill I thought about putting the car in reverse and parking on the street.  I have a ’96 Hyundai Accent and although I’m not ashamed of the car I drive I am a little ashamed of having so little so late in life.  Isn’t not having anything a sign of lack of character?  As an ex girlfriend used to periodically remind me, “You don’t have anything.”  I guess not.  Yet how is getting rich by screwing every person you ever met character.  I got out of the car.  Better to be thought of as poor than crazy and poor.

Handsome, tall Paul Schrade greeted me at the door.  Welcoming me into his home we went over to the kitchen table.  Remodeling was going on and Mr. Schrade made me feel at home.  I gave him a copy of my book, JFK vs CIA and told him I was reading the complete LAPD investigation files of the Robert Kennedy assassination.  He identified the photo of Jerry Bruno and I asked him if he remembered seeing Bruno at the hotel that night.  He wasn’t sure.

In another photo Paul pointed himself out on stage as Kennedy was giving his victory speech and living his final minutes.  Paul didn’t exit out the back door of the stage with Kennedy, stepping down instead to his left and meeting up with RFK as they both approached the double doors leading into the pantry.  So he couldn’t tell me who met Kennedy backstage in the passageway after the speech.  It is here Kennedy’s fate is sealed.  Someone Kennedy trusted informed him of the change in plans agreed to twenty minutes earlier in the Fifth Floor suite and redirected him toward his death.  I need to identify who met Kennedy backstage.

As they entered the pantry Paul noticed the several television cables that had been laid on the floor in order to cover the evening’s events.  He told me he felt a shock and thought it was from stepping on the cables.  He fell to the ground unconscious.  In reality, Paul had been struck in the forehead by a bullet and knocked to the floor.  The fact that Paul is 6’ 4” and Sirhan 5’ 2: makes me wonder if Sirhan was actually trying to hit Senator Kennedy.  In order to hit Paul in the forehead Sirhan would have had to aim quite above RFK’s head even taking consideration distance.

I asked Paul if he saw anyone slip between himself and Kennedy anytime after emerging into the pantry.  He said no.  He was directly behind the senator pointedly staring at the back of his jacket so as not to lose him in the crowd.  There was no one between him and Senator Kennedy.  If accurate then the gunman slipped behind the senator as Paul was falling unconscious.

I thanked Paul for graciously having me into his home and giving me his time.  It’s not every day that one gets to meet someone who is a part of history.  Details were now being filled in by Paul Schrade and Munir Sirhan in a way second hand analysis can never do.  Yet I still don’t have my second shooter nor do I have the traitor responsible for setting Kennedy’s trap.  Perhaps the answers lay in a careful reading of the microfilm reels of the LAPD investigation files of the Robert Kennedy assassination.

We ended back at my apartment and she said she wanted me to remember her so she wouldn’t screw me but instead do something special so I would remember her.  She did and I remember.

As the years passed I kept expecting to run into Jane in Hollywood.  Hollywood is after all a small town and as a Dramatic Arts Major she would be leaving for L.A. after graduation.  Certainly I would meet her at a party or an actor’s workshop or in a play or at an audition.  I never did.

It was only recently that I learned famed porn actress Veronica Hart was aka Jane Hamilton.  I guess she did make it to Hollywood.  And I have to find out now?

The official story is staff in the fifth floor suites with Kennedy decided after giving his speech Kennedy would leave the stage to his right and go down a stairwell to the Ambassador Room and address the overflow of supporters.  Afterwards, it was off to a private party at “The Factory,” a nightclub co-owned by Pierre Salinger.  Fred Dutton takes credit for changing the plan while Kennedy was speaking and instead have Kennedy taken back through the pantry.  I don’t think so.

Certainly the original plan set sometime before election night by CIA was to place the assassination team in the pantry while Kennedy was giving his anticipated victory speech and bring Kennedy to them.  We know this because on election night when Kennedy entered the pantry Sirhan, the mysterious polka dot dress girl, the second gunman and actual assassin as well as a CIA support team are waiting for him.  The polka dot dress girl is the trigger to put Sirhan under deep mkultra/amnesia, poor Sirhan will be firing at RFK as a diversion and take the rap, the professional assassin will pop Kennedy in the back of the head at point blank range and the CIA support team will provide security for the shooter and hustle him out of the pantry.  This brilliant plan to murder Kennedy is thwarted when Kennedy staffers not part of the conspiracy decide on their own plan.  The new plan means Kennedy will miss entirely the waiting assassination team.  The improvised plan at the last moment almost saved his life.  But one cool head on the floor of the Embassy Room prevailed.  My thinking is that one of the advance men, Jerry Bruno if he’s there, an underling if he’s not, learned during the speech of the new plan and ordered Fred Dutton to disregard it and take Kennedy immediately back through the pantry.  My educated guess is Jerry Bruno was the CIA’s inside man and perhaps others on the advance team as well.  Traitors.

But I have no proof.  It’s just theory.  Theory and a dollar will get me a cup of coffee.

There is also the problem of blond boy.  When reviewing the 1500 remaining photographs of the LAPD investigation at the California State Archives in Sacramento, I paid attention to anomalies.  What doesn’t fit?  Just prior to Kennedy’s entrance blond boy is seen standing on stage.  What draws attention to blond boy is the dark sunglasses.  This would be fine if it were Hawaii on the beach, in the afternoon.  But the time is midnight and it’s indoors.  The only reason for sunglasses is if you don’t want to be recognized.  Even if someone takes your photograph if your eyes can’t be seen you can always say, “It wasn’t me.”  In another photograph as Kennedy is approaching the lectern, blond boy is seen frantically elbowing his way off the stage.  Everyone else is trying to get on the stage and be close to Kennedy.  Only blond boy is making a bee line off the stage.  What’s the matter, camera shy?  Blond boy is a good looking young man about 26, physically fit, wearing a turtleneck sweater and jacket.  Then in motion picture film taken by a camera crew on stage with Kennedy blond boy magically re-appears on stage as Kennedy is being led to the rear door of the stage.  He is over Kennedy’s shoulder and seems to be stalking him with each step.  It’s as though blond boy’s job is to make sure Kennedy does not go off to his right but instead follows direction and leave through the back exit door off the stage.  In yet another film I’ve studied as RFK exits the rear door of the stage, blond boy stops at the door, turns around facing the Embassy Room crowd, hangs his head down and slowly walks off to his right.  Yeah, blond boy knows what is about to happen.

But, can Frank Burns, Jr. help me with any of this?  As I’m driving down La Brea in Hollywood to my appointment with Mr. Burns I thought of all the times I’ve driven this street never knowing Frank Burns, Jr. lives off of it.  Of course I never heard of Frank Burns, Jr. until this past year but you get the point.  How many secrets lay hidden in houses scattered all over Los Angeles.  I also thought why me?  Why the hell can’t I just get a job selling insurance and enjoy my life like everyone else.  Have a mortgage, a couple of kids, an occasional affair.  Damn.  This is dangerous.

I arrived at Mr. Burns house and parked a few doors down.  This way I can hide my Hyundai Accent.  No need for anyone to know I’m a broke mofo.  As a female friend commented to one of her friends and I wasn’t suppose to hear, “He doesn’t have a pot to piss in.”

In L.A. any man after a certain age who doesn’t have a house, a BMW, real estate, a quarter million dollars in the market, is seen as being defective.  Something didn’t click in at the appropriate time.  A diseased gene perhaps.  A loser gene that compels letting every good break that comes your way slip through your fingers.  Whatever.

Mr. Burns identified the photograph of Jerry Bruno.  He saw him that night but doesn’t remember when.  I showed him the photos of the blond boy.  He studied them and then let me know why he was a lawyer his entire professional life.  Detail.  Mr. Burns pointed out blond boy was wearing the pass/ID on his coat that gained one admittance to the Embassy Room.  I had missed that.  Mr. Burns related to me that after the speech Kennedy left the stage going the wrong way as agreed upon upstairs.  Burns had to almost run to catch up with him and did so in the pantry.  He was waiting for a pause in a conversation Kennedy was having with someone and was going to tell him, “Look pal, you’re going the wrong way.  We’re suppose to be going the opposite direction.”  At that moment he felt a blast close to his face.  He saw a gun pointing at Kennedy and he grabbed the waist of the gunman.  It was Sirhan.  Burns said they danced around for what seemed a long time and eventually Sirhan was pushed against a metal table.

From the LAPD interviews I knew that Karl Uecker, an assistant maitre d’, was leading Kennedy through the pantry and grabbed Sirhan’s gun arm after the second shot pushing it away from pointing at Kennedy, the gun continuing to discharge.  Edward Minassian, a few feet in front of Karl, charged smashing into Sirhan.  Now I had information that Frank Burns, Jr. also had a hold of Sirhan.  I asked Mr. Burns if he noticed anyone standing behind Kennedy just prior to or during the shooting.  “An elephant could have been standing behind Bob and I wouldn’t have noticed.  My concentration was on Sirhan.”

We re-enacted the shooting with Burns having me play the part of Robert Kennedy.  He stood a couple of feet to the right of me and we went over the shooting in detail.  Now I had a terrific feel for how the shooting went down.  Six months before I spent two days filming a bit part in a movie at the Ambassador Hotel.  On the second day of filming I arrived well before my call time and used the time to find the Embassy Room and pantry.  Security had seen me filming the day before so I had carte blanche to look around as far as my nerve would take me.

The carpet of the Embassy Room was dank and musty.  I followed RFK’s route to the large double doors leading to the pantry.  So these are the famous double doors I’ve read so much about.  A chain locked the doors so I had to go around.  I found the Coconut Grove nightclub and knew the kitchen must be behind it.  The nightclub was “dressed” for the movie and as I passed through I imagined Clark Gable and Errol Flynn sitting at the tables on a night out on the town.  I entered the kitchen and then the pantry.  How small.  Big enough to change history though.  I first went to the double doors and peeked through the chain into the Embassy Room where I had just been.  I turned and walked a few steps to where Kennedy stood when he was shot.  I was trying to set measurements in my mind.  I looked forward to where Sirhan was on the tray stacker just past the machine on the right.  The ice machine was still there after all this time giving me an excellent reference point.  Sirhan had only been ten to fifteen feet in front of Kennedy.  One of the three metal tables in front and to the left of Kennedy also remained.  I placed the many witnesses whose LAPD reports I’ve read so I could see what they saw that night.  Two things became clear.  One, several of the witnesses could have taken a step or two in and touched the second gunman firing at Kennedy from behind.  And two, all of them had to have seen the second gunman shoot Kennedy.

Hotel employees Martin Patrusky, Juan Romero and Jesus Perez lined up to Kennedy’s left had a perfect view of the shooter.  They are only a few feet from Kennedy and hence the shooter with nothing blocking their view.  Boris Yaro, Valerie Shulte, Thane Caesar and Richard Lubic are behind and slightly to the right of the senator and also would have seen the man behind Kennedy shooting.  Evan Freed standing slightly forward and to Kennedy’s right did see the second shooter and said so in his affidavit.  If anyone had been hard to see it would have been Sirhan.  At 5’ 2” the view of Sirhan would have been blocked by Karl Uecker and Frank Burns, Jr.  But these witnesses all had an unimpeded view of the second gunman.

After finishing the re-enactment Mr. Burns walked toward me his eyes blazing.  “Sirhan did not kill Bob,” he said.  Elaborating he told me the autopsy placed a gun one inch from behind Kennedy’s head while Sirhan never got closer than a foot or two and was in front of Bob.  “When I testified at the trial no one, not the prosecutor or the defense, asked me about distance.”

As I left Mr. Burns to his painful memories I went away admiring his courage.  To tell the truth puts him at great risk of CIA retribution.  “Sirhan did not kill Bob.”  Coming from a man who was standing next to Kennedy when he was shot makes him a target.  And a hero.