“An offshoot of the American White Party…Matthew Hale,” Rina answered.

Kate said, “Hale took over in 1995, maybe ’96. They’re white supremacists based on social Darwinism—survival of the fittest. They don’t care who you are as long as you’re white. They’re atheists as opposed to the Christian racist sects who obviously use Christianity to rationalize their racism. Each ethnic group more or less has its own racist counterpart—the Latinos have Aztlan, African-Americans have the Nation of Islam. Whites have lots to choose from—branches of the Klan, the neo-Nazis, the Straight Edges, the Skinheads, the Peckerwoods—”

“Peckerwoods?” Webster laughed. “Why would anyone in their right mind call themselves a Peckerwood?”

“It was a derogatory term for blacks,” Kate said. “Peckerwoods use drug money to finance their neo-Nazi activities, as opposed to groups like the Hammerskins, who supposedly disavow the drug trade. Now, that’s the overt party line. The differences are teeny-tiny and becoming more teeny-tiny every day.”

Rina said, “I think Detective Webster is specifically interested in the Preservers of Ethnic Integrity, because its home base is in the North Valley.”

“The Preservers of Ethnic Integrity.” Kate nodded. “They were originally a splinter from the World Church of the Creator. Over the last four years, they’ve worked really hard to sanitize their act. For instance, they don’t talk about white supremacy or even the white race. Instead, they use terms like the integrity of the European-American, to put it in the same category as African-American or Hispanic-American.” She sat down at her desk, moving the computer mouse until her flying-object screen saver disappeared. “I’m sure that PEI has a Web site.”

“They do.” Webster gave her the URL page number. “I was just hoping that you could tell me more than the stuff I picked up off the Internet.”

“Well, first let’s look at what they’re preaching. Often the buzzwords will tell me something about who they associate with.” As soon as Kate brought up the Web site, she flinched. The screen was alight in vivid color and was three-dimensional. It showed a detailed, three-dimensional Uncle Sam standing guard over a topographical map of the United States. “Well, the graphics are new…very high quality. A pro job. They must have gotten an infusion of money somewhere.”

“Where would the money come from?” Webster asked.

“I don’t know, and that’s a problem. Recently, two white supremacists up in Silicon Valley sold their business to a major computer company for over a hundred million dollars. They financed this massive mail-out of hate literature up in the tri-state area—Washington, Oregon, Idaho. Right now, their dot-com money is paying for Garvey McKenna’s defense.”

“I don’t know him,” Webster said.