The two men settled themselves and sipped their whiskey.
Ham said nothing, just looked out at the Indian River. He'd wait for Rawlings to get around to it.
"Pretty place you got here," Rawlings said, finally.
"Yep, I sure love it."
"How'd you ever come by it?"
"The easy way. Fellow I was in the army with died and left it to me."
"You're a lucky guy."
"I sure am."
Rawlings was quiet for another moment, then he shoved the thick envelope across the table to Ham. "I brought you something to read."
Ham opened the envelope and shook out a book. "Ah, The Turner Diaries, " he said. "I read it twice, years ago." He shoved it back across the table.
"No, keep it. That's an autographed copy," Rawlings said.
"Well, thank you, Peck. I'll treasure it."
"What did you think of the book?"
Ham had read it when he'd found a buck sergeant who served under him reading it. He thought it was the most outrageous collection of lies, bigotry and downright trash he'd ever come across. "Prescient," he said. "The naked truth, well told."
Rawlings grinned. "It sure is, ain't it?"
"It is."
"Ham, I think you're my kind of guy."
You do, do you? Ham thought. You go right on thinking that. "What kind of guy are you, Peck?" he asked.
"Me and my friends are what you might call patriots," Rawlings said. "In our fashion."
"And what fashion is that?"
"You might say we're working toward the goals expressed in that book," Rawlings said.
"And just how do you go about doing that?" Ham asked, looking curious. "Without getting sent to prison, I mean."
"Slowly, carefully, and above all, quietly."
"I should think so," Ham said, nodding. "I've often wondered if there was anybody actually doing anything."
"More than you might imagine," Rawlings said.
"That's interesting to hear."
"Just how interesting, Ham?"
"Very interesting. Tell me more."
Rawlings shook his head. "Not right now," he said. "You and I will have to get to know each other better before I can do that. You'll recall I said that we work carefully."
"Sure, I understand. You go right on doing that."
"With that in mind, I'd like to know a little more about your daughter."
"Holly?"
"Right, Holly. She seemed to me to be a little-"
"Annoying?" Ham ventured.
"If you'll forgive me saying so, yes, annoying."
"Well, Holly's not the smartest girl who ever came along. I mean, she's my daughter and all, but we've never seen eye to eye about a lot of things, so we don't see all that much of each other."
"Looks like you go fishing together."
"That's about all we have in common," Ham said. "If we can get through a couple of hours of fishing without getting into an argument, we're doing well."
"What do you argue about?"
"Well, politics, and, until recently, her boyfriend."
"What about him?"
"He always looked like a Jew to me, although he denied it."
"So she finally dumped him?"
"No, somebody dumped him for her. He got blown away in a bank robbery, just as they were about to get married."
Rawlings's eyebrows went up. "A bank robbery?"
"Yep. He apparently shot off his mouth-he had a real smart mouth-to somebody who was holding a shotgun, and the shotgun just happened to go off. Good riddance, if you ask me."
"You know, I think I saw something about that in the papers. Is your daughter a cop?"
"She's the fucking chief of police!" Ham spat out. "Can you believe it? She was an MP in the army, and not all that good at it, and an old buddy of mine got her this job. Just between you and me, she's not all that good at this one, either."
"Well, ain't life funny?" Rawlings said. He looked at his watch. "Well, I've gotta be somewhere." He stood up. "Thanks for the drink, Ham. I'll see you around."
Ham shook his hand and showed him to the door, then watched him drive away. He went back into the house and called Holly.
"How'd it go?" she asked.
"Not so hot," Ham replied. "We got to talking about you, and I broke the news to him about your being a cop. He didn't take it too well; a minute later, he was out of here."
Holly sighed.
"Yeah," Ham said. "You better think of something else."
23
Holly called the Miami bureau of the FBI and asked for Harry Crisp. He came on the line immediately.
"Hey there, Holly."
"Hey, Harry. I've got bad news."
"What?"
"The Lake Winachobee people didn't bite on Ham."
"Not even a nibble?"
"When Ham mentioned I was chief of police, the guy went cold and got out."
"Out of where?"
"He came to Ham's house."
"Why did Ham mention that you were a cop?"
"We figured they'd find out anyway-read the papers or something. Ham told him we don't get along, and that he didn't like Jackson, thought he was a Jew."
"Why the Jewish reference?"
"Rawlings brought along an autographed copy of The Turner Diaries."
"Oh."
"I'm really disappointed. I thought Ham could take this guy."
"You know, when we were involved in that Palmetto Gardens thing, I had a look at Ham's service record."
"You can do that?"
"Let's just say I did it. After what I saw in there, I would have thought that Ham could handle just about anything, anytime."
"That's pretty much the truth. Except for me."
"How's that?"
"He could never handle me, but I always let him think he could."
"Oh."
"What are we going to do now, Harry? Can you put somebody into that group?"
"It would take months, Holly, maybe longer. Did Ham get a name for the group?"
"No."
"If we had a name, if we knew who we were targeting, then that might help. I might be able to find an undercover guy who had some up-front credentials with right-wing groups who could go in there fully recommended. I mean, if they're associated with other groups. But if we don't know who they are, then we don't know which buttons to push."
"Well, so far we know they're weapons nuts, that they're anti-Semitic and antisocial, and of course, that they rob banks and kill people."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We don't know that last part."
"You're right, I'm jumping ahead."
"We've got to do this one step at a time."
"Have you heard anything on Franklin Morris and his wife?"
"Not a peep. It's like they drove off the edge of the earth."
"I'll bet you anything they're out at Lake Winachobee right this minute."
"If we had probable cause to think so, we could go in there with an arrest warrant."
"Yeah, but it wouldn't be worth it. We might pick up Morris, but the current charges against him are minor, and the group would know we were onto them."
"I suppose we could take a look at them from the gun show angle, but once again, we'd tip our hand that we were interested in them."
"This is depressing."
"The only thing we can do right now is to just wait for something to happen."
"What, for them to rob another bank? Kill somebody else? They're flush with ill-gotten cash right now, and they've got no reason to do another bank."
Hurd Wallace stuck his head through her doorway. "Holly, Joy Williams from Southern Trust is on the line. She says it's important."
"Harry, can you hold on for just a minute?" Holly asked.
"Sure."
She punched the hold button, then answered the call. "Hi, Joy."
"Chief, I've got some news, and it's bad."
"What's the problem?"
"The bank has completed its audit of Franklin Morris's loan portfolio, and it looks like he's taken us for about $175,000."
"How?"
"By making loans to fictitious small businesses with bogus documentation, all of them under his $25,000 limit for loan approvals."
"Joy, I've got the FBI on the other line; I'll have them get in touch with you."