“Don’t these kids usually beat up minorities?” Jack asked. “What happened in this guy’s case? Did someone fight back?”

“Skinheads have a tendency to fight with each other as much as they attack others,” Gordon said. “And this is a case of the former.”

“Why so much interest in Brad Cassidy?” Jack asked. “I’d have thought that one less of these guys would just make your law enforcement lives that much easier.”

Vinnie stuck his head in the room and informed Jack that if Jack was going to continue jawboning, he was going back to his New York Post. Jack waved him away.

“Brad Cassidy had been recruited by us as a potential informant,” Gordon said. “He’d plea-bargained a handful of felonies in return for cooperation. He was trying to find and penetrate an organization called the People’s Aryan Army or PAA.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” Jack said.

“I hadn’t, either,” Lou admitted.

“It’s a shadowy group,” Gordon said. “All we know is what we’ve been able to intercept off the Internet, which, by the way, has become the major method of communication for these neo-fascist nuts. All we know about PAA is that it’s located somewhere in the New York metropolitan area, and it’s recruited some of the local skinheads. But the more disturbing part has been some vague references to an upcoming major event. We’re worried they might be planning something violent.”

“Something like the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah building in Oklahoma City,” Lou said. “Some major terrorist thing.”

“Good God!” Jack said.

“We have no idea what, when, or where,” Gordon said. “We’re hoping they’re just posturing and bragging, which these groups tend to do. But we’re not taking any chances. Since counterintelligence is the only true defense against terrorism, we’re doing the best we can. We’ve notified the emergency management people here in the city, but unfortunately there’s little information we can give them.”

“Right now our only positive lead is a dead skinhead,” Lou said. “That’s why we’re so interested in the autopsy. We’re hoping for a lead, any lead.”

“You want me to do the post right now?” Jack said. “I was on my way to do an infectious case, but it can wait.”

“I asked Laurie to do it,” Lou said. He blushed as much as his dark, southern Italian skin would allow. “And she said she wanted to do it.”

“When did you talk to Laurie?” Jack asked.

“This morning,” Lou said.

“Really,” Jack said. “Where did you get her? At home?”

“Actually she called me,” Lou said. “She got me on my cell phone.”

“What time was that?” Jack asked.

Lou hesitated.

“Was it around four-thirty in the morning?” Jack asked. The mystery about Laurie was deepening.

“Something like that,” Lou admitted.

Jack took Lou by the elbow. “Excuse us,” he said to Gordon and Sergeant Murphy. Jack took Lou out into the communications room. Marjorie Zankowski gave them a quick look before going back to her knitting. The switchboard was quiet.