As Time Goes By - November 1985

Experts have predicted that much of the history of the last few years will have to be re-written in the light of the publication today of Conspiracy! the new book by Tony Winters which proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Marilyn Monroe was murdered by Robert Kennedy with a bath brush. The book's revelation that John F. Kennedy may first have choked Marilyn, the vivacious sexpot who put her eye on the dynamic brothers, has aroused even more comment, with trenchant denials that author Winters has produced any proof to back his allegations.

Ted Kennedy held a press connference in Boston on Wednesday to adamantly refute the "revelation" that his brother John "made himself readily available" to a succession of starlets, groupies and women of loose morals.

Winters claims to have spent five months interviewing 1 09 witnesses beefore writing his book.

The story begins in Galesburg, Illinois, in 1960, where Bobby and Marilyn first enjoyed each other's sexual favours while Marilyn was filming her smash. hit, Kootchy-Koo and Bobby was masterminding his brother's Presidential campaign. Winnters reveals that the person who brought them together was none other than Tom Flynn, the shadowy figure who moves like a wraith through the book.

Flynn, scion of the mattress manuufacturing dynasty (known world-wide for their slogan, "Our signature is your guarantee"), is alleged to have encouraged the liaison in a failed attempt to embarrass the Kennedy dynasty and prevent Jack from gettting to the White House.

The Flynn dynasty, it is well known, had a vicious hatred of the Kennedys. The book reveals that Kevin Flynn, the founding father, became obsessed with the fact that old Joe Kennedy had for years been using Flynn mattresses for purposes that were less than moral. Flynn mattresses, of course, are sold only to married people and until recently could be purchased only on production of a marriage certificate.

Winters alleges - and in our view this is gross speculation - that old Kevin Flynn resolved that a second generation of Kennedys would not be allowed to besmirch the good name of Flynn. He assigned his eldest son, Tom, to engage in whatever activities were necessary to put a stop to John and Robert Kennedy's gallop.

Thus we find Frank Sinatra and Peter Lawford drawn into a web of sexual intrigue woven by Tom Flynn. When the complacent media failed to alert the great American public to the scandalous behaviour of the Kennedy brothers, says Winters, and John F. Kennedy finally made it to the White House, old Kevin Flynn threw the head altogether. "I want him got!" he allegedly screamed. Winters says he was told this on good authority by the brother-in-law of old Kevin Flynn's chiropodist.

By this time, of course, the Kennnedys were feeling safe. They had had a scare when they discovered that Jimmy Hoffa was bugging Marilyn's bedroom and was considering reeleasing an album of John and Marilyn indulging in some imaginative antics with an 0: 7: 30 fertiliser bag. That is when the Kennedy brothers, says Winters, committed their foul crime, dumping the unfortunate Marilyn's body on a beach in Malibu. Bobby Kennedy subsequently hounded the unfortunate Hoffa into prison .

Winters alleges that Hoffa's later disappearance and presumed death came from orders given to the Boston mafia by none other than Ted Kennedy. Winters admits he has little proof for this but says, "I feel it in my water." Ted, he says, once bought a bottle of wine from a shop to which deliveries were made by members of the Teamsters, Hoffa's union, "and that, to my mind, firmly establishes the connection which everybody else missed. My book is published by Trebleday at £12.87, thank you."

The story moves inexorably on, with Tom Flynn seen in Dallas on November 21 1963, chatting in a bar with a man whom he addressed as "Lee". Winters admits that this Lee was 6'4", with a flaming red beard and one arm missing. But, he says, Lee Harvey Oswald was a master of disguise.

Sirhan Sirhan, alleges Winters, reeceived a promise of a free lifetime supply of Flynn mattresses for his family back in Iran if he would pop Bobby Kennedy.

He points out in passing that the beds in the motel in which Martin Luther was staying when he was assassinated were all equipped with Flynn mattresses. He draws no firm conclusions from this, but hints that J. Edgar Hoover, whose preference for the Flynn brand of mattress was legenndary, may have been in Memphis four years before the assassination.

Watergate, says Winters, was almost certainly a Flynn production. He points out, with logic that is hard to refute, that the names Flynn and Nixon each have five letters. This alone, of course, would hardly be convincing. But Winters points out that their first names are Tom and Dick, and then goes on to establish beyond reasonable doubt that the elevator operator at the Watergate was called Harry. This, we agree, is too much of a coincidence to be left without drawing damning inferences ..

And so it goes. Diligently drawing together the threads of his narrative, Tony Winters leads one inexorably to Tralee in 1985, where Martin and Anthony Kennedy, counsel for the gardai at the Kerry Babies Tribunal, allegedly distant relatives of John and Bobby, battled for months to estabblish the identity of the mysterious Tom Flynn. Battled and lost, says Winters, because the craven and bitter Flynn dynasty had once again triumphed over the Kennedy clan.

I've had enough of this, I'm gonna go get a tuna sandwich. •