Mr. Hubert. Well, what comment have you got to make to that?
Mrs. Rich. Anyone that made that statement would be either a damn liar or a damn fool.
Mr. Hubert. Why?
Mrs. Rich. There is no possible way that Jack Ruby could walk in Dallas and be mistaken for a newspaper reporter, especially in the police department. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
Mr. Hubert. Is that your opinion?
Mrs. Rich. That is not my personal opinion. That is a fact.
Mr. Hubert. Well, on what do you base it?
Mrs. Rich. Ye gods, I don’t think there is a cop in Dallas that doesn’t know Jack Ruby. He practically lived at that station. They lived in his place. Even the lowest patrolman on the beat. He is a real fanatic on that, anyway.
Mr. Hubert. When you say even the lowest patrolman on the beat, what do you mean?
Mrs. Rich. Everybody from the patrolmen on the beat in uniform to, I guess everybody with the exception of Captain Fritz, used to come in there, knew him personally. He used to practically live at the station. I am not saying that Captain Fritz didn’t know him. I am saying he was never—I have never seen him in the Carousel. He has always been, I think, a little too far above things for that.