This... I can barely bother to recap this before saying it was the most boring novel I can imagine being written about the JFK assassination. The narrator, a reporter who asked a secret service agent on the morning of the assassination whether the bubble top would be on the car is approached, five years later, by that agent's daughter. She tells him that he has suffered a mental and physical breakdown from the guilt of having ordered the bubble top to be removed, and believes that he was responsible for Kennedy's death. She recruits the reporter to try to prove that he was not. FAR too many pages later, they test if shooting through the plexiglass barrier would have interfered with the shot. Not much else happens.
The primary question, whether or not having the bubble top on the car would have
saved JFK, is under-explored and eventually disposed of rather quickly, and very little else, either about the assassination or about the characters, is explored at all. The prose is Dan Brown level, and prose is not the selling point of anything Dan Brown wrote. This book is under two hundred pages of actual story and it still feels longer than it needs to be. The best thing I can say about this book is that it isn't really actively bad in anyway, it's just completely lacking in anything good.
Overall Grade: D