1.
Greg Marcotte sat at his desk in Washington. It looked like it was going to be a nice day as the nine o’clock sun was making its way over the first low-rise buildings in the Government complex.
He went through his morning mail. Notices of employee awareness in the bureau and even some advertising. One envelope was hand addressed, however, piquing Greg’s interest. He slid the letter opener across the top – feeling comfortable that postal screening services had done their job properly and there was no letter bomb or dangerous powder enclosed.
The return address was Alvin Kuntzler, Spring Hill, Florida, where ever that was. The introduction was brief as was the message as a whole.
Dear Mr. Marcotte,
I have an issue I need to bring to your attention. It has national security significance. I must speak to you and you alone about this. Please respond by written communication or agree to visit me at my Florida home. That visit must be secret.
Regards,
Alvin Kuntzler
There was nothing else. No inkling as to what great state secret a man in Florida had to share. Greg put the letter in the tray holding other such communications that would be squirreled away somewhere – only to be dredged up again should any of the communiques bear real fruit.
A month later the second letter came.
Dear Mr. Marcotte,
I have not heard from you since my first attempt at communication. While I may seem like a common citizen to you, I have information that has extremely important significance. As you delay, more of the situation to which I will alert you continues.
Sincerely,
Alvin Kuntzler
“Probably another nut job” Greg thought out loud. “As if we don’t have enough.”
But two months later a third letter arrived. It became more emphatic.
Dear Mr. Marcotte,
I understand your reluctance to give credence to my letters. I will have to be more succint in order to catch your attention. Following is a list of six people in government or judicial positions in our United States. I predict with a great deal of certainty that harm will soon befall at least one of the poeple on this list:
Henry Jeerson – Appeals Court District 2, Washington State
Prosecuting Attorney Julie Weston. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Arthur Armitrage – Mayor of Rampart, Minnesota
Bob Linley – Convicted Child Rapist – Little Rock, Arkansas
Peter Mellor – State’s Attorney – Wesley, California
William C. Martin – High School Principal – Conroy, Virginia
Sincerely,
Alvin Kuntzler
Jeff was a little more perplexed and did a search of his resources on Alvin Kuntzler. From as far as he could tell, Mr. Kuntzler was 66 years-old and had retired as from driving a produce truck in and around the Tampa Bay area. He dismissed the letter as he had before and left for home.
On Monday morning Greg noticed a headline on page two of the Washington Post:
“Peter Mellor – State’s Attorney for Wesley, California Found Shot To Death Outside Home”
Greg Marcotte shot bolt upright in his chair and reached for the phone.
____________________
Alvin Kuntzler stood at his front window, holding his morning coffee in his hand. He took immediate notice of the two black SUV’s that pulled up in front of his house.
“Susan”, he called out.
“What is it, Al?” Susan called back from the kitchen.
“They’re here” was his reply.
Al’s wife hurried from the kitchen, wiping her hands in a towel and met Al at the front door. They shared a knowing look just before Al opened the door as two men in suits mounted the four steps to the Kuntzler home.
After flashing FBI badges they were ushered in to the Kuntzler living room. Agent Michael Morrison seemed to be in charge as he did all the talking.
“Mr. Kuntzler, you’ve been in communication with one of our department heads recently and we would like to speak to you about those communications.”
“I understand” Al replied. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Actually, Mr. Kuntzler, we’ed appreciated if you’d accompany us to a location where we speak in privacy.”
“I’m okay with that” Al said, seeming undisturbed at this level of official visit. Since being fully dressed Al made his goodbye to Susan.
“I told you this may come to be.” Al said in a comforting tone.
“I know” Susan said, “But I’m just concerned nonetheless.”
“It will be alright.” Al said in a soft voice.
Al and the FBI men got in the SUV’s and left Susan Kuntzler staring at their retreat from her front steps.
The SUV’s pulled in up front of a non-distinct 3-story brown building. Al knew the area from his days of produce delivery but never had occasion to stop at anyplace in this part of Tampa. He was ushered into the front of the building, then a turn down a left-hand hallway to an unmarked door. Inside, a man arose from behind a table, a man Al ostensibly took to be the one and only Greg Mellor of the FBI – the one to whom his communications had been directed.
He was escorted into a glass door and was turned left down a hallway. At the first door on the right an FBI agent opened it and led Al to the room’s interior. The room’s contents consisted of a small table with two chairs opposite one another and two single chairs on the wall. There was not a single adornment, picture or poster of any kind on the walls. At the table sat another man Al assumed to be the one who would interrogate him.
The man at the table arose, not extending his hand but merely introducing himself as Greg Marcotte of the FBI. He nodded towards the other chair at the table that Al was meant to occupy. Al and Greg Mellor were seated, Greg Marcotte afixing his gaze on Mr. Kuntzler.
“Mr. Kuntzler, you are here due to the correspondence you sent me about the murder of significant public figures.”
Al only looked back at the man, figuring he would have more to say before wanting a response.
“Tell me, Mr. Kuntzler, how is it you knew who might be murdered when you sent these letters to my attention?”
Al shifted in his seat, turned to look at the two men seated behind him then looked back at Greg Marcotte.
“It was an educated guess.” Al said.
In an even tone, Mr. Marcotte replied,
“And what is it about your education specifically that empowers you to predict a homicide?”
Giving Mr. Marcotte a quzzical look, Al Kuntzler leaned forward a little with his respone.
“The very same education that is available to you and every other American in this country, Sir. If more people would pay attention to what is happening in this country today, we might not be in the mess we’re in now.”
It was Mr. Marcotte’s time to lean forward now.
“Do you belong to any organizations, Mr. Kuntzler?”
“Yes” he replied, “The citizenry of the United States of America. And you plan anything further that constitutes any investigation of me or any delving into my personal affairs, it will be with my legal counsel present.”
Seeming nonplussed and fearing not getting information, Mr. Marcotte leaned back in his chair.
”I’m not wanting to put any constraints on you, Mr. Kuntzler”, now seeking a more conciliatory tone, “I’m asking for your help in assisting your Government should you have any knowledge of future harm impending anyone in our country.”
Al’s response was measured and even.
“For an agency that has investigative tools far beyond mine you shouldn’t even be asking me questions but instead should be doing your homework. If a mundane citizen like me can alert you to a situation why is it you seem to be blindsided by my revelation? And any further discussion will end until I have a legal representative with me.”
“We would like to keep in touch with you, Mr. Kuntzler, in case you have knowledge aforehand of any peril approaching any American whatsoever.”
Al interpreted his statement as meaing they would be watching him and watching him very closely. But Al was driven back home and released while in the care of two quiet and stern faced agents. Without a word the SUV brought Al to his home and without speaking an agent opened the door for Al to exit.
Al knew that can of worms had been opened but it frustrated him that the government was seemingly ignorant as to the can’s existence.
2.
Back at his Washington desk, Greg Marcotte started the investigative wheels turning. In an agent staff meeting he stated his directives.
“Bob, I want everything you can get on Alvin Kuntzler.
Marsha, I want you to look at any unsolved incidents over the last two years of any type of political leader, community leader or any type of high-profile citizen killed.
Pete, get me an update on any right-wing extremist goups including paramilitary – I don’t care if they call themselves a knitting group – I want to know what they are up to and where they are.
Simon, look up every name on the list this Alvin Kuntzler sent us. I want to connect the dots on this asap!”
The meeting broke up, all staff members given their assignments. In six days another scheduled meeting took place.
“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.” Greg Marcotte said in opening the meeting.
“Bob, I want to hear from you first. Who is this Alvin Kuntzler and what’s his game?”
Agent Bob gave his report, sliding folders across the table to each of the attenees.
“I found nothing dramatic on Alvin Kuntzler. He spent most of the last 25 years driving produce delivery around Tampa, Florida. He has a membership with the VFW but seems he only participates rarely in their events. Two years of college, wrote a children’s book that takes place where he grew up in northern Indiana in the 1950’s and has a website that discusses military and political history. His writings are definately right-wing but nothing advocating extremes.
We suspect he has weapons in his home based on how he writes defending the second amendment. For the most part he seems to be a homebody, intent on carrying his message through his website. The site gets maybe fifty hits a day but I don’t get any hint of him associating with or advocating for any right-wing group or organization.
His wife Susan spent forty years as a hairdresser, no membership in any groups or organizations. Another homebody, goes shopping for groceries but nothing much else.”
“Hmm”, was Greg Marcotte’s reaction. “Bob, keep digging. If need be we’ll get a warrant for his computer and see what he’s looking at and who he’s talking to. Simon, what do you have?
Agent Simon slid his folders across the table to each of the attendees.
“There is no connection I found between any of the names on that list. They don’t seem to know each other, no connection through any groups or organizations. But if you look at each of the people on that list independently – there is a similarity.Not so much that in almost each case where they were a public official, they had all taken controversial actions.”
“Give it to us” Greg Marcotte directed.
“Henry Jeerson, District 2 Appeals Court in Washington State, started a lot of controversy when he ruled to throw out a guilty verdict against an illegal charged with attempted murder. That was in quite a few of the papers there. I’ve got nothing on any threats to his life, however, save for the kind you might typically see on the Internet and newspaper commentaries. There may be someone with a real axe to grind but so far I can’t identify any.
Prosecuting Attorney Julie Weston, Philadelphia.” Simon went on. “Again, controversy because she put forth a plea deal and went easy on this kid that killed his Mom, Dad and Sister. A lot of write up on that and a lot of folks unhappy with her. She also prosccuted a white cop who killed a black man during a confrontation. The cop was fully exhonorated.”
“Arthur Armitrage”, Simon continued, “Mayor of Rampart, Minnesota. He was the sole Republican on the list. Seems he got charged with either embezzling money from the town treasury and or granting city contracts to friends willing to give him a kickback. The case is in its early stages but the numbers so far stack up against him.
Bob Linley, a convicted child rapist got out of a Little Rock prison just a month ago. Folks seemed unhappy that he only spent two years in prison. If you tell me to, I’ll run a check on his family to see if anyone vowed revenge.
William C. Martin – High School Principle, Conroy, VA. He stirred things up in his small school distric t by suspending a student wearing a USA flag t-shirt on Cinco-de-Mayo, telling the media it was offensive to those celebrating their Mexican heritage. That ticked off a lot of the Conroy folks.
And lastly, our victim in the recent shooting, Peter Mellor – State’s Attorney – Wesley, California. He irritated a lot of people when he went after churches and clergymen who advocated against the gay and lesbian agenda. He had ordered subpeonas for sermons and any other church docmuments that carried any type of anti-LGBT language. He was gunned down outside his home in the early evening. Police have no clues whatsoever on this case.”
Greg Marcotte seemed to stare out the window for a moment, mentally trying to guess where the similarities in this might be other than public figures doing something that may have upset quite a number of people. Of course, the more people that were upset the wider the pool of suspects that were created. But Greg Marcotte wanted to keep the focus on Alvin Kuntzler first and foremost.
Pete gave his report on right-wing groups but had nothing significant to report. Nothing that he could uncover showed any relationship to the killing of Peter Mellor or to any of the names provided by Mr. Kuntlzer.
“Marsha” Greg Marcotte stated.
Marsha took a moment to bring herself more erect in the chair, her body language seeming to indicate at least her report was significant. She bagan.
“At first there wasn’t much as I concentrated on the areas of the country where Mr. Mellor met his end or in or around the Tampa area where Alvin Kuntzler lives. But when I started searching for homicides nationwide that involved high-profile people, things got interesting.”
Marsha paused momentarily, looking at Greg Marcotte and her associates to see if she indeed had everyone’s attention. Assured this was the case, she went on with her report.
“From my search, I now have twenty seven cases that seem somewhat like some right-wing individual or group might carry out. The distances between the cases geographically tends to negate any single individual being able to carry this out. If at all, if these are related, this is widespread and organized.”
Greg Marcotte was intensely interested now.
“Okay, Marsha. Details”
Marsha responded by sliding file folders across the desk to each of the members in the meeting. Then adjusting her glasses she opened her copy and started.
”January 25, last year, Michael Benedetti, another person in academia, teaching at Southern University in Witchita, met his demise when leaving a lecture hall at nine p.m. His lectures included calling the police criminals and murderers. Shot from a distance. No witnesses. The case remains open.
February of last year, Paula Marcu, mayor of Plainville, Utah, shot while leaving a town meeting during the evening hours. One shot to the head, no witnesses, no clues.”
“What’s the tie-in?” agent Marcotte interjected.
“She and the town council had passed an ordinance making gun dealers having to video record all weapons and ammunition transactions within the town limits. The two gun shops had to close up and move outside the town limits. That seemed to make a lot of people unhappy in Plainville.
March 20th, last year, Paul Diligent, a local elections official was charged with stuffing ballot boxes in Merribelle, Louisianna. Also charged with registering dead people and illegal aliens. He was killed outside his home in the early morning. One shot to the heart. He must have had friends in high places as the county counsel, a member of the same political party, got him off with probation and a fine.
That counsel was George Hemmer, a local party bigwig. He was shot twice when leaving his offices at night just two weeks after the ruling. One in the chest, another to his head. No witnesses in either case.
April of last year, Margaret Thune, Judge for the Peterston, Arizona court district, killed while sitting in her car, early morning, just outside her home. Her actions were giving probation to a man after time served for charges of involuntary manslaughter. The man she gave probation to shot and killed a woman and her seven year old daughter a month after his release.”
“Wait” agent Mellor interrupted. “How many of these cases are similar in that the victim had done something, let’s say, hmmm, I’m trying to peg this here. Let’s say, something extremely one sided politically or perhaps left-wing in their actions?”
“For the most part, as far as I can tell,” Marsha answered, “fifteen of the victims who’s cases I’ve studied have done something controversial – something perhaps viewed by someone very conservative or right-wing as unjust.
We have people in politics, government, academics or some kind of criminal malfeasance.”
The room went silent as Greg Marcotte once again turned his gaze to somewhere outside the window.
“Any ideas, folks?” he queried the people gathered.
Simon was the first to give input.
“If we are to believe, or even want to believe there is some connection here, someone, some group is making a statement and if it is all or even partly connected, we’ve got a can of worms on our hands.”
“Marsha,” Greg Marcotte again asked, “Is there anything at all that gives any type of clue or evidence on which we can start to build something, anything to help us tie this together?”
Marsha shuffled a few of the papers in her file.
“In two cases, just two, you’ll see them on page 18 and page 47, a white van was spotted in the area of the homicides. No license plate numbers, nothing significant, no person identified, just a white, plain white van.”
“All right, gang.” Greg Marcotte said, seeming to indicate the meeting being ended.
“Simon, you are now with Marsha. I want a drill-down on what she has so far. Pete, you and Bob, I want a warrant for anything and everything not bolted down at Alvin Kuntzler’s address. Get that warrant – I want to turn Alvin Kuntzler inside out. He’s the only link for this coming to our attention. I want his e-mail, phone and Internet activity – all of it! I want to know Alvin Kuntzler like I know my own family!”
3.
It was ten days later that Agent Marcotte’s team had enough information to warrant another meeting on Alvin Kuntlzer and his revealtions to the FBI.
Agents Peter, Simon, Mary and Marsha came in with expanding folders – ostensibly carrying the results of their particular assignments. Agency Chief Marcotte couldn’t help but noticing Marsha and Simon each carry a stuffed to capacity folder.
Once everyone was settled and had their coffees or bottled waters set properly. Greg Marcotte started things off.
“Pete, Bob, fill us in. Who is Alvin Kuntzler and what is his game?”
Pete spoke first. “You’ll be disappointed, Greg. We found more about Mr. Kuntzler but basically its as boring as Boyscout Jamboree. He was drafted shortly after marriage, spent time in various industries, nothing really of interest.”
“We found pretty much a mundane American who seems to spend a lot of time reading history and news”, Bod added. “He was steady for all those years of driving a produce truck. He was considered a good employee, always on time, detailed record keeping and good performance ratings. I got the impression his manager would love to have the guy back.
We did follow up on his Internet history after seizing his computer files and checking his phone records. Nothing out of the ordinary for your typical retired mail. He like to look at pictures of girls at the beach online but nothing more drastic. No illegal pornography but a wide range of history and information seaches. From what I gather he’d be a holy terror on Jeopardy.”
Pete chimed in again. “If anything this guy is a history nut, writing about history on his website and talking endlessly how history repeats. Nothing even close to extreme right-wing or anarchy, although he does admire the military – and law enforcement for that matter. Basically, we’ve got nothing other than a guy who does a lot of research.”
“Maybe that’s how he’s figured this out”, Greg mused but Greg Marcotte could be seen to be visibly disappointed in what he was hearing from the two Agents.
“Simon, Marsha” he stated simply, wanting to hear what the other two Agents had found.
Simon and Marsha by now had spread a number of folders across the table. Marsha, seeming to have the greatest command of the material spoke first.
“I kind of feel like I’ve become Alvin Kuntzler.”
The same quizzical looks enveloped the faces of Greg Marcotte and Agents Bob and Pete.
“I’m thinking”, Marsha continued, “that Alvin Kuntzler is simply someone who ‘payed attention’. Once we narrowed down the type of data commensurate with what Mr. Kuntlzer was able to find, we found it too, and in abundance. It was there all the time but it seems Mr. Kuntzler figured it out before we did.”
“There’s nothing that’s secret here,” Simon added to Marsha’s testimony. “Its as plain as day IF you know what you’re looking for. We now find the very same stuff Alvin Kuntler found. Our analysis tells us that because Alvin Kuntzler is a news and history hound, he must have stumbled across these stories and started to connect the dots.”
“All right, lay it out.” Greg Marcotte directed.
Marsha started the report.
“Sancturay City Mayor, Brad Stanish, killed in Myorka, Colorado in January of last year. The hit happened outside his home – no witnesses – no evidence. Shot by a 5.56 round.
At meeting of the New Socialists in Muncie, Oklahoma, the leader of the group took a shot to the head as he exhorted his followers with chants of “Down with America!”
LeDonn Carmichael, killed in an alley near his home in Port Rock, Louisianna. Mr. Carmichael’s claim to fame was a Youtube video knocking out a homeless woman. She suffered a fractured skull – he got only probation.
Wilber Gadsen, a career criminal awaiting trial on assauting a police officer in Marbury, Ohio. His arrest record was a mile long according to reports.
Zamach Muhammad, student body president at a small college in Winona, Montana. He had led a protest against the ROTC, stomping on and burning the American flag. One shot to the chest as he exited his car at a shopping mall.
Aaron Agate, a local news reporter in Moment, Montana. He used his nightly editorial to bash conservatives in Washington and had been cited numerous times for lies and fabrications. This one was a little more dramatic. He left for work one day and died as his car exploded. Professional work – no workable evidence.
Marvin Calender, a Muslim Washington Bureau Chief for the Monmount Examiner in Oregon. Shot outside his home. He was cited for refusing to retract his newspaper stories that smeared a Republican county candidate. The candidate lost and is currently under a state investigation.
Millicent Parks, head of the town council in Fairfax, Arizona. She bent to the will of an atheist group that demanded the Christmas Nativity no be displayed in the town square. The Scene has been displayed there for more than fifty years – population of Fairfax, twenty-two hundred.
Marsha paused and looked at Greg Marcotte as if silently asking if he wanted more from her.
Quietly, Simon added, “For the all the extreme right-wingers in our country, this is their idea of justice. But, since it is so widespread, as the twenty odd cases we haven’t told you about are, the dots weren’t connected until a guy in Florida, namely, one Alvin Kuntzler, did just that.”
The room fell silent as Greg Marcotte and the other two agents having not worked on this aspect of the investigation had distant looks on their faces.
Suddenly the door of the room was thrust open. In strode Mr. William Billings, Greg Marcotte’s boss. Instantly Greg Marcotte wondered what would warrant the Big Cheese to show up here.
Bureura Chief Billings looked directly at Greg Marcotte.
“You’re and your crew are working this Alvin Kuntzler situation?”
“Yes” Greg Marcotte answered.
Mr. Billings spoke again.
“I need you and your crew and everything you’ve got on this case in room C at 3 p.m. sharp. This Kuntzler guy went to the press with it – as many as a hundred news and wire services, newspapers and news websites.
Not all the news companies are reporting it yet but some are and its spreading rapidly. All of you, 3 p.m. sharp. And all lips are sealed!”
Without another word the Burero Chied exited as quickly as he entered. The meeting broke immediately with Greg Marcotte reminding the Agents to bring whatever they had to that afternoon meeting.
4.
Two months had gone by since Alvin Kuntzler had inundated the news services with the reports of murders across the United States. Left-wing politicians, the left-wing media and anyone else hating anything right-wing were up in arms.
Democrats in Washington were cobbling together emergency gun control legislation that in turn had the right-wing people up in arms. Republicans agreed for political reasons to jump on the gun-control band wagon. Having wrested control of the White House and Congress in 2016, it was more-or-less assumed the Democrats would get whatever they wanted passed.
Congressional legislators, with good reason, would vote on the measures in a closed session with the voting results to be withheld from the public. The events of the last 90 days had certainly tightend many a sphincter in the halls of Congress.
The hue and cry ignited the news stories daily. Right-wing organizations – protective of their 2nd Amendment rights were swelling their ranks with new groups forming weekly. Gun sales could not keep up with demand. Some Muslim leaders were crying out for protection but the bulk of them have gone silent. Likewise, Liberal activist who were quite vocal in the past, in the cities and college campuses, have crawled into the woodwork..
Back in his office, Greg Marcotte scanned the Internet for the latest news and editorials taking one side or another. In spite of the investigation being full blown and removed from his hands, very little had come of the digging for the perpetrators.
In once instance, a Senator that proposed repealing the second amendment was shot in the chest but survived, right in D.C. A white van was spotted at the scene. Police pursued and surrounded the vehicle.
The drive inside was found dead, having swallowed cyanide. Something Greg Marcotte though only happened in the movies. But those at the FBI and behind closed doors in Washington were convinced this was a major operation with big money behind it. Every rich man in America was coming under the microscope.
Greg Marcotte, now assigned to a lesser task, looked over the major websites for the news services. It was with interest that he that morning he did a little dot-connecting himself.
In Little Rock, a child molester was given 25 years for his misdeeds with an eight-year-old. In Topeka, a judge ruled in favor of a condo-owner who sued to keep displaying the American flag in his upstairs window. In Runyan, Kansas, an entire school board was replaced by the citizens after banning any mention of Christmas yet allowing displays of Muslim holiday posters.
In something so tinged with national disharmony and potential choas, leaders of politically active groups – primarily liberal leaning groups would be approached by the press and give the newly adopted script line of “no comment’.
Greg Marcotte leaned back in his chair and wondered just what it all meant and just what can of worms Mr. Alvin Kuntzler had actually opened. It wasn’t Alvin Kuntzler’s can of worms, he only handled the can opener. In spite of all of the dangers this may be leading to, Greg Marcotte felt a tinge of respect for Mr. Kuntzler’s abiltity to see what no one else was willing to pay attention to.
He took a moment to remember the time when he was eleven years old. His father was a Cinncinati, Ohio Police Officer with twelve years of distinguished service. Greg Marcotte remembered distinctly the day he was notified at school – taken to his home and told by his Mom that his Dad had been gunned down at a convenience store after responding to a robbery attempt. His killer was never found – never brought to justice.
Greg stepped away from his desk and moved to his office window. He thought about the many things that brought him into law enforcment, especially the mental commitment he had made to his Father at the funeral.
Agent Marcotte just stood for a while, looking at the world outside and contemplating his life, his world and the events of the last three months. He looked at his watch and decided he was going to take a nice, long lunch – but first he would call his wife – just to tell her he loved her.