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When the old spymaster thought he was dying, his eldest son came to visit him at his home in Miami. The scourges had been constant and terrible recently: lupus, pneumonia, cancers of the jaw and prostate, gangrene, the amputation of his left leg. Long past were his years of heroic service to his country. For years, he and Saint had hardly spoken. Then Saint came to him wanting to know if he had any information about JFK’s assassination. His father had sworn in two government investigations that he didn’t. But now, in August 2003, propped up in his sick bed, he began to write down the names of men who participated in a plot to kill the president. He had lied during those two federal investigations. He knew something after all. He told Saint about his own involvement, too. It was explosive stuff, with the potential to reconfigure the JFK-assassination-theory landscape. And then Hunt got better and went on to live for four more years.