“This is Special Agent Gordon Tyrrell,” Lou said, gesturing toward the man sitting next to him. The man got to his feet and stuck out his hand.

“Does that mean FBI?” Jack questioned as he shook the man’s hand.

“It does indeed,” Gordon said.

Jack had never shaken the hand of a member of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. It was not quite the experience he envisioned. Gordon’s hand was slight, almost effeminate, and his grip loose and tentative. The agent was a small man with delicate features, certainly not the masculine stereotype Jack had grown up with. The agent’s clothes were conservative but neat. All three buttons of his jacket were buttoned. In most respects he was the visual antithesis of Lou.

“What’s going on here?” Jack questioned. “I can’t remember the last time I saw the sergeant here this early.”

Murphy laughed and started to protest, but Lou interrupted.

“There was a homicide last night that the FBI is particularly concerned about,” Lou explained. “We’re hoping the autopsy may shed some light.”

“What kind of case?” Jack asked. “Gunshot or stabbing?”

“A little of everything,” Lou said. “The body’s a mess. Enough to turn even your stomach.”

“Has there been an ID?” Jack asked. Sometimes with heavily damaged corpses identification was the most difficult part.

With raised eyebrows Lou glanced at Gordon. Lou didn’t know how much was confidential about the case.

“It’s okay,” Gordon said.

“Yeah, there’s been an ID,” Lou said. “The name is Brad Cassidy. He’s a twenty-two-year-old Caucasian skinhead.”

“You mean one of those racist screwballs with Nazi tattoos, a black leather jacket, and black boots?” Jack asked. He’d seen such riffraff on occasion hanging around the city parks. He’d seen even more of them back home in the Midwest when he visited his mother.

“You got it,” Lou said.

“Skinheads don’t all have Nazi regalia,” Gordon said.

“Now that’s certainly true,” Lou agreed. “In fact, some of them don’t even have shaved heads anymore. The style has gone through some changes.”

“The music hasn’t,” Gordon corrected. “That’s probably been the most consistent part of the whole movement and certainly part of the style.”

“That’s something I don’t know anything about,” Lou said. “I’ve never been much into music.”

“Well, it’s important in regard to American skinheads,” Gordon said. “The music has provided the movement with its ideology of hatred and violence.”

“No kidding?” Lou said. “Just because of the music?”

“I’m not exaggerating,” Gordon said. “Here in the U.S., in contrast to England, the skinhead movement started as just style, sorta like punks, posturing to be shockingly offensive in appearance and behavior. But the music of groups like Skrewdriver and Brutal Attack and a bunch of others created a change. The lyrics promoted a screwed-up philosophy of survival and rebellion. That’s where the hatred and violence have come from.”

“So you’re kinda a skinhead expert?” Jack asked. He was impressed.

“Only by necessity,” Gordon said. “My real area of interest is ultra-right-wing extremist militias. But I’ve had to expand my focus. Unfortunately, the White Aryan Resistance started a fad of recruiting skinheads as shock troops of sorts, tapping into that well of hatred and violence the music has engendered. Now a lot of the neo-fascist militia groups have followed suit, getting the kids to do a lot of their dirty work as well as getting the kids interested in neo-Nazi propaganda.”