True Stories from the Files of the FBI by W. Cleon Skousen

Author:W. Cleon Skousen
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781630720599
Publisher: Izzard Ink Publishing
Published: 2016-08-03T15:15:39+00:00

An aerial view of the Union Railroad Station, Kansas City, Missouri.

DEATH ON A JUNE DAY

The morning sun glinted brightly down on Kansas City’s huge Union Station. There was the usual sudden buzz of excitement before the arrival of each train. The 7:12 was due any minute.

A fair sized crowd was there to meet it. In the group a little cluster of quiet watchful-eyed men waited alert and patient. The Special Agent in Charge of the Kansas City Division, a second FBI Agent and two Kansas City Police Officers were on hand to see that Federal Prisoner Frank Nash went safely on his way to Leavenworth.

The 7:12 finally puffed in. The two Agents and Chief Reed led their manacled prisoner off the train, through the concourse. They were greeted by the waiting group. There must be no delay. They walked quickly through the depot, onto the plaza and up to the car that would take Frank Nash sixteen miles up the river.

The sun poured down throwing long, early morning shadows. Traffic eddied about in an endless stream.

Frank Nash was placed in the rear seat of the automobile. Then for some reason there was a change; a swift decision to put Nash in the front seat. Obediently he slid under the wheel while the split front seat was placed forward to allow the officers to enter the back of the car. The Special Agent in Charge and the two police officers stood watch. Agent Caffrey was about to enter the car.

Suddenly there was a blur of sound; of split-second action; voices.

“Up! Up! Get ‘em up!” No one waited for the command to be obeyed. “Let ‘em have it!”

A machine gun began its deadly chatter. The popping of a .38 and the louder blast of a .45 caliber revolver were lost in the steady staccato bark of the big gun.

The Kansas City detectives slumped down side by side. Agent Caffrey dropped on the opposite side of the car. The Agent in Charge fell wounded and crawled behind the machine.

Slugs tore through the car. Steadily, deliberately, the assassins made a brief quarter circle, spraying the car with lead.

One Agent writhed to the floor, his back torn with bullets. Chief Otto Reed slumped forward, dead. In the front seat behind the wheel Frank Nash’s head fell back. Bullets cut through his neck. The new toupee fell off, stained with bright blood.

“We shot Nash!”

“They’re all dead. Let’s go!”

There was a sudden silence on the plaza, stunned unbelievable silence that lasted several seconds. Then there was movement. People crawled from beneath cars. Machines started. There was an excited eddying mass and the killers merged with the crowd, entered their car and disappeared. The FBI Agent in Charge, shot in the arm, thrust through the crowd to put in a riot call.

Four officers were dead: Agent Caffrey, Detectives Groom and Hermanson, and Chief Otto Reed.

An FBI Agent occupying the center of the back seat where a prisoner would normally sit, was untouched. He was applying first aid to a wounded Agent when traffic parted for a clanging ambulance.

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