From "The Devil & Preston Black" by Jason Jack Miller

"Preston," John Lennon said in a very narrow voice, "Have a seat."  

He poured brandy into a second glass and pushed it across the table.  John looked just like he did when he played Instant Karma on Top of the Pops.  His hair had just been cut short and he seemed agitated, like the primal scream therapy hadn't kicked in yet.

I almost asked what he was doing here and he said, "If you knew he'd shoot, why didn't you stop him?"

My reply got caught in my throat like a hiccup, and I took a quick drink to ease it out.

Lennon said, "If it was you on the sidewalk and me on the street I'd have let you know.  It's the right thing to do, right?"

"But I didn't know.  I thought he was one of us."

"Oh, I see." John took a drink.  He held the glass by the stem and swirled the brandy around.  "One of us, huh?  Like you, me, us, 'one of us'?  Or one of you 'one of us'?  Big difference, you know."