Mr. Belin. Did you hear more than three shots?
Mr. Couch. No.
Mr. Belin. Had you heard any noises, what you'd describe like a motorcycle backfiring or firecrackers, prior to the time that you made your turn north onto Houston?
Mr. Couch. Well, way uptown on Main Street, a motorcycle did backfire right beside us—and we all jumped and had a good laugh over it. And the three shots sounded, at first—the first impression was that this was another motorcycle backfiring.
Mr. Belin. Now, between the first and the second shots, is there anything else you remember doing or you remember hearing or seeing that you haven't related here at this time?
Mr. Couch. Nothing unusual between the shots. Uh—as I say, the first shot, I had no particular impression; but the second shot, I remember turning—several of us turning—and looking ahead of us. It was unusual for a motorcycle to backfire that close together, it seemed like. And after the third shot, Bob Jackson, who was, as I recall, on my right, yelled something like, "Look up in the window! There's the rifle!"
And I remember glancing up to a window on the far right, which at the time impressed me as the sixth or seventh floor, and seeing about a foot of a rifle being—the barrel brought into the window.
I saw no one in that window—just a quick 1-second glance at the barrel.
Mr. Belin. In what building was that?
Mr. Couch. This was the Texas Book Depository Building.