Masked Prey (Lucas Davenport #30)(22)

“But 1919 is SS,” Lucas said.

Lang’s wide smile returned. “Yes, it is. It makes them almost unique. Very interesting. Very interesting. From my perspective, of course. As a scholar.”

“Of course,” Lucas said. “Listen, I need to ask, if I were to go looking for them, where would I start? It seems like they’d be pretty far off on the extreme right end of things. The clippings on the website include everything from old Klan people to, you know, actual saluting goose-stepping neo-Nazis.”

“The most extreme of these people would be unlikely to talk with a marshal. You’re the enemy,” Lang said.

“So you wouldn’t be able to make an introduction.”

Lang’s chair was on a swivel, and he’d been swiveling from side to side as they talked, and now he slowly turned all the way around, his lips pursed, looking at the ceiling. It had the feel of a well-rehearsed act, Lucas thought.

When Lang came back around, he said, “That might not be quite right. However, before we get to that, I would like to ask . . . why do you think this group is alt-right? 1919?”

“The files they posted . . .”

“Are all alt-right, or extreme right, or crazy right—the KKK and so on. But if some child should get shot, those very groups are the most likely to be attacked by the federal government. Why would they invite that? It seems to me just as likely that the posts were put up by some left-wing group, who might be able to make the same phone call to a senator that the alt-right people might make, without the risk of being attacked by the government.”

“You’re the first person to suggest that,” Lucas said.

“I wouldn’t doubt it, since there seems to be a hunger by the liberal deep state to eradicate the alt-right,” Lang said. “Now, you want to know about who might organize something like that. Let me suggest that you check the American National Militia. They’re certainly not Nazis. They’re more like what I would classify as anarchists—extreme libertarians. They don’t want a powerful fascist government, they don’t want any government at all—and they may very well have committed violent acts. I don’t know that for sure, that’s what I hear. The actual leader of the group is unknown to me, or to anyone other than a few members. He’s supposedly called Old John. There was some controversy over in Kentucky about a group of men doing firearms training—sniper training—and practicing guerilla tactics at a camp in a forested area, and they were said to be members of the ANM. There were quite a number of them, so it is a substantial group.”

“What violent acts? What’d you hear?” Lucas asked.

Lang leaned forward and put his forearms on his desk. “A number of things. There was a developer in Erie, Pennsylvania, who asked the city council to use its power of eminent domain to condemn a series of older condominiums that took up a prime city block, so that he could build one of those mixed-use business and condominium projects. Replace something old and ugly with something new and expensive. Brew pub, fern bars, that sort of thing. Starbucks. The council was going along with it when the developer got plugged between the eyes in what looked like a road-rage incident. There was a rumor among certain extremist groups on the left that he was killed to stop the eminent domain process. And that happened. The old condominiums are there to this day.”

“People think the ANM did it?”

“That was the rumor on the alt-left, if I can call them that. Then there were two shootings in Michigan. Do you know what tax deed states are?”

“Mmm . . . not exactly,” Lucas said.

“Okay. In a tax deed state, if you’re late with your taxes, the county can sell the deed to your house, usually to an investor. There are a number of companies who buy the deeds, and quite a few individuals. The real victims are usually people who are too poor or too dumb to pay the taxes they owe, and don’t understand the process. So, somebody has a little farm acreage worth, say, a hundred thousand dollars, and owes five thousand dollars in taxes. If he doesn’t pay, or make payment arrangements, the county auctions off the farm. The minimum bid is the amount of the taxes plus processing fees. If the winning bid is twenty-five thousand, the county takes its cut, gives the rest of the money to the homeowner, and the deed to the investor.”

“Then they kick out the original owners?”

“That can happen,” Lang said. “When an investor buys your deed, there’s usually a redemption period, in which the original owner can pay off the amount the investor paid for the deed, plus a hefty interest and service charge. Bottom line, your five-thousand-dollar tax bill could cost you eight thousand dollars to pay off, if you can afford to pay it at all.

“Anyway,” Lang continued, “an individual investor in Michigan bought a tax deed in Westmoreland County. The sale was held by the sheriff and he signed the papers in the sheriff’s office at the courthouse, stepped out on the front steps, and was killed with a single rifle shot. They never identified the shooter or even where he shot from. The bullet was recovered, a .30-caliber slug, and because of the weight of the slug, the police believe it was probably fired from a .300 Winchester Magnum, which I am told is a favorite sniper rifle.”

“And people thought the ANM . . .”

“Then, three or four months later, the president of one of the investing companies was shot at his front door after his company won another Michigan auction. Another long-range sniper action, another .30-caliber. They did find the sniper nest the second time—and there was a note that said something like, ‘Buy a tax deed and die!’ That put at least a temporary chill on tax deed sales. There was a rumor that the ANM was involved in both shootings.”