PART THREE: WHO KILLED KENNEDY

A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on. Ideas have endurance without death.

John Fitzgerald Kennedy

TWENTY-TWO

14 September 1971

'Mr Stevens? Mr Stevens, are you there?' I cursed and put the revolver back in my jacket pocket. The voice was female and sounded like the chatty receptionist from the hotel's front desk. I went to the door and opened it a crack. 'Mr Stevens, the soldier who dropped you off earlier came back and left this envelope for you. He said it was urgent.' She passed the white rectangle of paper through the gap in the door.

'Thank you,' I said and slammed the door shut on her. Returning to the bed I sat down and looked at the envelope. Made of plain white paper, it was sealed at the back with red wax, an elaborate 'D' pressed into the melted seal. I broke open the envelope and removed the contents, a single sheet of white paper. On it were scrawled four words - 'Call me, The Doctor' - and a telephone number.

Picking up the receiver by the bed, I dialled the digits on the note. It was answered after three rings by an imperious voice. I recognised the haughty tones from his heckling at the demonstration of the Keller Machine at Stangmoor Prison: it was the Doctor.

'Mr Stevens?'

'Yes,' I replied.

'I thought I recognized you at Auderly House. I've been meaning to get in contact with you for some time but you're a very difficult man to pin down.'

'Speak for yourself.'

'Quite. Look, first of all, I wanted to give you my condolences for the death of Miss Chaplet: I know the two of you were very close. Dodo was a friend of mine a long time ago, and I still feel responsible for her in a way. Anyway, she died before her time and I'm very sorry.'

'Fine. You've said you're sorry, now leave me alone,' I said. Despite everything I had been through, despite the fact that he had saved my life only hours before, I still found it hard to trust the Doctor.

'I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr Stevens. You see, I need your help. I was very interested by what you had to say on that wretched television programme, The Passing Parade.'

'Oh really?' So much had happened to me since my humiliation live on national television that it seemed like something from decades ago rather than just a few months.

'We know for a fact that the Glasshouse was real, it did exist. In fact several UNIT soldiers were sent there for treatment, including your Private Cleary. All of them had been suffering from mental or nervous breakdowns. Life as a UNIT soldier is stressful and highly dangerous, like no other job, as you no doubt saw today.' I murmured my agreement, so the Doctor continued.

'It seems the Glasshouse was a front for the Master, or Victor Magister as you know him. You were absolutely right - he has been using it to mentally re-programme UNIT soldiers to do his bidding. Can you tell me anything that Private Cleary said after you escaped from the Glasshouse together? Anything at all?'

I described our argument on the train to London after escaping from the Glasshouse, how we had talked about going back in time to kill Hitler.

'Who suggested killing Hitler? Was it Cleary?'

'No, I made up that example. Cleary seemed more obsessed with the assassination of John F. Kennedy,' I explained. 'He kept going on and on about how everything would be different if only Kennedy had lived, about how he had been given a special mission -'

'That's it!' exclaimed the Doctor. 'Of course, that explains it all!'

'Explains what?'

But the Doctor only answered my question with another question of his own. 'Did Cleary bring anything peculiar with him when you escaped from the Glasshouse? Anything out of the ordinary?'

'Yes, a metal bracelet,' I replied. I had been carrying the bracelet around with me since discovering it near Dodo's body. I went to retrieve it from my jacket, which was draped over a chair. As I crossed the hotel room I caught sight of myself in a mirror. My face was haggard with dark circles beneath my eyes and a few strands of grey visible in my hair. I looked a wreck. Having recovering the bracelet, I went back to the phone and described the metal circle to the Doctor, mentioning the intricate wiring around its exterior surface.

'A Time Ring! That clinches it!'

By now I was becoming exasperated. 'Would you mind telling me what the hell all this is about? I think I'm entitled to know.'