In this 9th installment of the Zachary Blake Legal Thriller Series, Zack attends the bar-mitzvah of his friend's son, Josh. An explosion rocks the synagogue, and Josh and his neighbor, Chip Ellis, disappear in the chaos that follows. Soon afterward, the family receives a ransom demand from notorious white supremacist/terrorist Winger Wright. Wright is in no hurry to release the hostages he holds—he prefers to torture the families and preach his hate-filled, anti-Semitic, racist, homophobic, bigoted manifesto. But he slips up, and the FBI discovers his location. When the FBI and local police storm the place, multiple hostage-keepers are killed, and one is arrested, but Winger Wright is nowhere to be found.
The terrorist in custody picks Winger's photo out of an array. But the image is of Chip Ellis. Are they the same person? Josh's Dad, Rich Cooper, refuses to believe it and asks Zack to represent his friend and neighbor, Chip. Zack does not share Rich's opinion of Chip's innocence but agrees to take the case. Is Ellis a victim of mistaken identity? A terrorist plot? Or is he "The Anti-Semite Next Door?" The matter will be resolved, one way or the other, in a court of law.
In this 9th installment of the Zachary Blake Legal Thriller Series, Zack attends the bar-mitzvah of his friend's son, Josh. An explosion rocks the synagogue, and Josh and his neighbor, Chip Ellis, disappear in the chaos that follows. Soon afterward, the family receives a ransom demand from notorious white supremacist/terrorist Winger Wright. Wright is in no hurry to release the hostages he holds—he prefers to torture the families and preach his hate-filled, anti-Semitic, racist, homophobic, bigoted manifesto. But he slips up, and the FBI discovers his location. When the FBI and local police storm the place, multiple hostage-keepers are killed, and one is arrested, but Winger Wright is nowhere to be found.
The terrorist in custody picks Winger's photo out of an array. But the image is of Chip Ellis. Are they the same person? Josh's Dad, Rich Cooper, refuses to believe it and asks Zack to represent his friend and neighbor, Chip. Zack does not share Rich's opinion of Chip's innocence but agrees to take the case. Is Ellis a victim of mistaken identity? A terrorist plot? Or is he "The Anti-Semite Next Door?" The matter will be resolved, one way or the other, in a court of law.
Nestled between the Detroit suburbs of Southfield and Birmingham, Beverly Hills is a quaint town of about eleven thousand people. It features mature homes, beautiful parks, nature trails, skating, sledding, and one of Zachary Blake’s favorite restaurants, the Beverly Hills Grill. One Detroit area magazine acknowledged the 80-seat restaurant for having the area’s “Best Brunch,” the main reason for the meeting at that place and time.
Rich Cooper was an old college buddy. While he and Zack were still friends, life got in the way. Rich went to Lawrence Tech to pursue a degree in architectural design. In contrast, Zack pursued a bachelor’s degree in English at Oakland University and a law degree at Thomas M. Cooley Law School. Both met women, fell in love, married, and had families.
Rich’s marriage was still going strong. Zack’s ended in divorce. Rich opened his architectural firm. Zack formed a partnership with some law school buddies. Rich’s practice was steady, like his life. He was fiscally conservative and socially liberal, like many Michiganders. He loathed the political divide in America and Michigan, preferring to keep his politics and opinions to himself. He despised political discussion. People were set in their way and could not be convinced otherwise. Arguments always resulted. Rich Cooper was a man who stayed above the fray and watched positive or negative things happen from a distance.
Zachary Blake was the opposite of his friend, Rich. Zack’s law practice and life featured incredible ups and terrible downs. Back in the day, during his initial period of success, Blake was known as Detroit’s “King of Justice.” He built a fee-churning law practice, scoring several high-profile seven and eight-figure verdicts. He was the envy of his competitors, feared by insurance companies, and the darling of the Detroit area press on legal issues.
But success went to Zack’s head—he decided to live the high life, sponge off the labors of his partners, enjoy the social scene, get drunk too often, and ignore his practice and loved ones. At the bitter end of his casual carelessness, his wife divorced him and took his kids and what was left of his money. His partners kicked him to the curb. His historic fall from grace culminated in Zack Blake practicing from a one-room office on Eight Mile Road, handling misdemeanor criminal assignments and traffic tickets.
At his worst moments, a woman named Jennifer Tracey telephoned with the case of Zack’s career. A priest sexually abused Jennifer’s two sons, and the church was covering up the crime. Blake took the case, cleaned up his act, took on the church and its clandestine cover-up organization, and won the largest verdict in Michigan history.
As most contingency fee lawyers know, large verdicts are only valuable if they are collectible. Zack Blake and Jennifer Tracey collected almost every dime of the nine-figure verdict. Blake was wealthy beyond his dreams in one fell swoop—he reclaimed his title as Detroit’s “King of Justice.”
While frowned upon in legal circles, Zack began to have feelings for Jennifer before the case was resolved. They dated, fell in love, married, and Zack adopted Jennifer’s two sons, Kenny and Jake. Granted a glorious do-over, Zack did not take this new-found success in business or love for granted. His practice was booming—he and Jennifer had a storybook marriage.
In recent years, following his historic verdict against the church, Zachary Blake landed high-profile case after high-profile case. He achieved landmark verdicts and donated substantial sums to worthwhile social justice charities, PACs, and progressive causes. He wore his politics on his sleeve. In one case, he even took down a bigoted president of the United States, which led to his appointment as lead prosecutor at POTUS’s impeachment trial. Zack enjoyed a happy, stable, and loving home life with his wife and adopted sons when he wasn't taking down corporate or government wrongdoers.
Rich Cooper lived with his family in a modest four-bedroom, ranch-style home in Beverly Hills. Blake lived in Bloomfield Hills mansion off Woodward Avenue, a few miles away. His office was a converted mansion on Woodward Avenue near Square Lake Road, a mile from his home. Through it all, the two men remained friends. Zack and Rich met monthly for brunch at the Beverly Hills Grill. Rich had one condition: Zack promised to refrain from discussing politics.
“How’s Josh doing?” Zack wondered. “Does he have his shit together? His Torah portion nailed?” The boy’s bar-mitzvah was in two weeks at Temple Kol Yisrael.
“He’s nervous,” Rich advised. “He’s also excited and trying to keep things in perspective. He’s ready, whether he believes it or not. He’s worked extremely hard, and I’m proud of him.”
“Nose to the grindstone, don’t rock the boat, just get the job done,” Zack kibitzed. “Sounds like this guy I knew in high school. If I recall correctly, his name was Cooper.”
“It’s eerie, Zack,” Rich observed with a smile. “You’re right. The kid is like ‘mini-me.’”
Zack laughed. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“In his case, it doesn’t.”
“Well, Jennifer and I are looking forward to his special day.
Knowing Josh, he’ll knock it out of the park. Thanks for inviting us.”
“I couldn’t have a bar-mitzvah without the King of Justice,” Rich remarked. “Justice should be the theme of every bar-mitzvah. If those who peddle hate and injustice had their way, the Jews would be extinct, and this bar-mitzvah would never have been rescheduled.”
“Why, Mr. Cooper,” Zack observed with a chuckle. “Was that a political observation?”
“No. It’s a historical fact. Throughout history, different groups have attempted to enslave, convert, expel, attack, and even massacre us, but we’re still here. How about the recent shit that caused us to delay our event? I’m mad as hell! For me, a bar or bat mitzvah is an important and defiant moment for every Jewish boy or girl.”
“Sounds like a political statement to me,” Zack mocked.
“How is that political? I’m reciting non-political Jewish history.”
“Because most of the attacks on Jews are rooted in politics, the pogroms in Russia, the Holocaust, Hamas in Israel, and the neo-Nazis and alt-right here in Michigan peddling their anti-Semitic garbage. ‘Jews will not replace us?’ Who wants to replace these idiots? When did the Midwest become the old South?”
Rich shook his head. Zack continued. “We’re two-point-four percent of the population, plotting to supplant white Christians? What a joke! These jerks even tried to kidnap our governor. I will not cede ground to these bigots, nor will I remain silent. These are the essential causes of my life.
“I’ve told you my grandfather’s escape story,” Zack continued. “I’m not sure you know this, but he told me that story the night before my bar-mitzvah. His story and time in captivity helped shape me into the man I am today. Grandpa Max is the biggest reason I’m passionate about this stuff.”
“Geez-o-Pete, Zack, how do you really feel? Calm down!”
“I can’t, Rich. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Stay on the sidelines.”
“I don’t stay on the sidelines. I am very active at my temple, support Detroit area Jewish causes, and I’m very supportive of Israel. I’m just quieter about it than you are.”
“Like a church mouse,” Zack laughed.
“Temple mouse,” Rich countered.
“Humor? Humor and politics? From Mister Straight Lace? Maybe there is still hope for you! I’ll bet you have every dime you’ve ever made, the original millionaire next door.”
“Funny coming from the wealthiest guy I know,” Rich observed. “I’m no millionaire, but I do okay.”
“Do your neighbors know who lives next door?” Zack continued his assault.
“Does anyone know the real person who lives next door? You’ll meet one of my neighbors at the bar-mitzvah. His name is Chip Ellis. He’s a very nice guy.”
“Is he a quiet millionaire, too?” Zack wondered. “Does he dare discuss politics with ‘Mister Disengaged?’”
“That’s not fair, Zack.” Rich became annoyed. “Just because I’m less vocal does not mean I’m disengaged.”
“Fair point. So, what’s this Ellis guy like? Is he politically active? Democrat? Republican?”
“I told you, we don’t discuss politics. He’s a good guy, an art broker; he buys and sells fine art. Travels all over the world. It’s quite interesting; he’s got a great business going. He also has a wonderful wife, Tricia, and two young sons, Christopher and Bruno. We get together, have backyard barbecues, and stuff. The kids go to school together. They’ll be at the bar mitzvah.”
“Christopher and Bruno? Not Jewish,” Zack kibbitzed.
“No,” Rich chuckled, shaking his head. “I think they’re Catholic.”
“Catholic guilt is quite similar to Jewish guilt,” Zack smirked. “Just ask my wife.”
“How is your wife?”
Zack smiled. “She’s wonderful. Jennifer and the boys are the best things that ever happened to me.”
“And Tobey and the girls?” Rich wondered.
“The opposite. The end of my marriage and who I was back then? They were the worst moments of my life. I have only regrets. I must fix those relationships someday. I don’t know where to start.”
“How about a telephone call to one or all?” Rich suggested.
“What would I say? I’m sorry I was such a disappointing failure as a husband and father?”
“Why not? Sounds like a good premise for a conversation.”
Zack sighed. “Let’s change the subject.”
“I think you should call,” Rich encouraged. “No time like the present. Everybody screws up at some point in their lives. You’re not the same guy you were back then. What do you want to talk about?”
“Politics?”
“Oh, brother!”
CHAPTER ONE
Winger Wright was an active Internet browser. While his past heroes relied on in-person organizing, newsletters, and marches to advocate the cause in the 1950s, the Internet allowed Wright to engage and connect with ideologically like-minded young men and women in much larger numbers nationwide. Wright saw himself as a quiet revolutionary—these politically correct assholes will never see me coming!
Like his mentors, Benjamin Blaine and Bart Breitner, Wright was delighted with the stark change in acceptable discourse that began with President Ronald John’s shocking rise to power. Suddenly, it was fashionable to “make America pure again.” Wright’s alt-right views became mainstream, and he became one of America’s most accomplished alt-right propagandists.
Winger Wright was a pseudonym. The Internet permitted him to hide in plain sight, mingle with the general population, and pen electronic newsletters that tapped into anxieties and frustrations felt by certain white Christian groups in America. The oppression or perceived loss of status of young white men was one reason why Ronald John was elected president of the United States.
The movement was derailed when President John tried to spew too much hate, too often, too fast, implementing a Muslim ban, building walls on both borders, deporting Hispanics, and criminalizing what he called “Mexican parasitic migration.” When he inserted his political might into a couple of “Jew lawyer” Zachary Blake’s cases, the mighty Blake brought the president down, had him impeached, removed from office, and prosecuted.
Not to be deterred, Wright, the self-proclaimed leader of a group known as The Patriotic Storm Troopers, announced Phase Two of the group’s ‘Master Race Master Plan,’ which featured marches on the largest synagogues and temples in Michigan. The marches would take place at the same time, on January 27, Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day, and pay homage to ‘two men named Adolf,’ Hitler and Eichmann.
“My lawyer advises that we have First Amendment rights in this country and are entitled to peaceful assembly on public land,” he wrote in a rambling manifesto announcing the event. The plan was to bus alt-right bigots to temples and synagogues all over Michigan.
The national news got wind of the plan, reported on the prospective marches, and scared the hell out of Michigan’s Jewish Community. The governor flew to Detroit to meet with the mayor and community, political, and religious leaders of all denominations. Everyone at the meeting publicly denounced anti-Semitism.
Working together, public and private officials assembled the most significant police task force ever, even deputizing private citizens. The task force pledged to place patrols at every synagogue and temple in Michigan on January 27, calling the march a “hateful, life-threatening event that exposes a disturbing and dangerous underbelly in society, putting all Americans at risk.” Wright answered back, claiming that European skinheads from all points in Europe were flying into the country to supplement the troops and wreak havoc on America’s Jewish “scum population.”
“Nothing will deter us,” he wrote. “Nothing!”
On January 27, an enormous police presence showed up in defense of every Jewish synagogue, temple, building, funeral home, and cemetery in Michigan. Not a single marcher showed up for the event at any location; no skinhead, white nationalist, neo-Nazi, or alt-right activist in sight.
Governor Whitman, flanked by representatives of the Anti-Defamation League and the World Jewish Congress, gave a speech denouncing hate of all types, especially anti-Semitism. She called the march a “sick hoax orchestrated by a group of cowards.”
“We must stand up to bullies and bigots in this country,” she announced to a rousing ovation.
Wright’s “failure to launch,” as the media referred to it, left his readers and supporters wondering whether he was committed to the cause of white men. “Is Wright a gutless coward?” wrote one alt-right rag. Following the January debacle, Wright continued to feed his audience hateful garbage, announcing a less ambitious plan of unannounced, targeted hits when law enforcement and Jewish organizations least expected them. He followed this announcement with almost complete radio silence, taking his message off the Internet, privately meeting with his associates, and planning these events. He would attack the Jews directly, one community at a time, a tribute to the bigots who came before.
Slowly and quietly, Wright began mounting a serious threat to Michigan’s Jewish community. His goal was to nationalize the effort. Piece by piece, he assembled his coalition of hate, charting a cautious, circuitous, but alarming course of neo-Nazi activity. He was obsessed with creating a national plan of attack. However, he was also patient, knowing an attack had to begin somewhere. Ultimately, his goal was to become famous for his views. He wanted to be the next Robert Miles or Richard Spencer. Soon, he would return to the Internet.
***
According to his manifesto, this Winger Wright character lived in Oakland County, one of Michigan’s more affluent counties. He filed assumed name papers in Pontiac under an alias, using the Internet to raise seed money. He had little trouble raising a war chest of seven hundred fifty thousand dollars held in cryptocurrency. The group’s first Internet newsletter publication endorsed Ronald John for president.
Wright was a serial liar who masked his identity and published lies about the group’s membership numbers, fundraising dollars, location, and everything else. The lies served a dual purpose: to increase membership and operate in relative secrecy and security. “They can’t hurt you if they can’t find you,” he often said.
The Patriotic Storm Troopers’ first activities were a series of phony telephone calls to Southeastern Lower Michigan’s Jewish community. On May 4, 2019, Bernard Cohen answered his iPhone and heard machine gun fire. He promptly disconnected the call, but the phone rang a second time. This time, a male voice imitated machine gun fire and predicted a new Holocaust, this one eradicating the entire Jewish population of Michigan.
Cohen immediately called the local police and notified his synagogue and rabbi. The police ignored the intrusion and threat, attributing it to a ‘prank call,’ probably by mischievous teenagers. They rationalized that law enforcement authorities received numerous ‘swatting’ calls through the 9-1-1 system.
The rabbi took the call more seriously, advising Cohen that many congregants in the area had received similar calls. He understood there were white nationalists sprinkled throughout the state. The rabbi got the ADL involved, and that initial, early effort eventually resulted in the well-organized defense initiative against the Yom HaShoah rally in January, four years later.
Winger Wright had no problem invading the privacy of Michigan’s Jewish citizens. He enjoyed placing harassing phone calls, sending hate mail, and dispatching hateful electronic messages by text or email. At the same time, ever the coward, he resisted all attempts to reveal his identity, preferring to remain hidden in cyberspace. The Patriotic Storm Trooper website rapidly became the number one place to spew hate on the dark web.
Wright was almost single-handedly responsible for digitizing hate, using worn-out Nazi tropes to attract Millennials. He pulled quotes from prominent publications and repeated them out of context, suggesting that they supported his offensive positions on the various issues of the day. Every sourced quote was somehow bastardized to espouse a racist, anti-Semitic viewpoint.
Wright long urged his followers to declare a race and culture war, eliminate wokeness or cancel culture, and prepare for physical urban warfare against Jews, Blacks, Muslims, Hispanics, liberals, and the liberal press, any ethnic constituency that might impede his agenda. He established online culture clubs, created chapters in major U.S. cities, and encouraged his followers to contribute and act. Calls to action included weapons purchases, firearms training, martial arts classes, and paramilitary training. In essence, Winger Wright had declared war on American-style Democracy.
His outreach and rhetoric paid dividends. Notorious mass shooters, after being captured, confessed to reading and adopting the ideology of the Patriotic Storm Troopers’ newsletters. Several synagogues and temples were firebombed. Two orthodox Jewish men were seriously injured after being run over by motorcycles on a West Bloomfield sidewalk as they walked to synagogue on a Saturday morning. Several cars parked in a Lansing synagogue had their windows shot out. The cars were empty—no one was hurt—but the event had a chilling effect on future attendance at the synagogue.
In Grand Rapids, police received an anonymous call telling them to visit an address in the city where they would find a hate-filled manifesto, automatic weapons, and explosives. The police obtained an exigent circumstances search warrant, visited the address, retrieved the materials, and arrested six men and women on suspicion of hate crimes and illegal weapons charges. The first person to provide information on Wright was offered immunity from prosecution, but the suspects refused to talk and immediately requested an attorney.
Wright’s campaign was wildly successful. While Jewish leaders encouraged their fellow Jews to ignore the threats and cede “not an inch of territory” to these domestic terrorists, the statewide Jewish community was terrified. Rabbis preached near-empty temples and synagogues, special events were canceled, travel was severely limited, and people became prisoners in their own homes.
Suddenly, as quickly as it began and flourished, the newsletters and anti-Semitic activities stopped. Michigan Jews came slowly out of hiding and returned to their active, vibrant lives. Law enforcement officials were puzzled at the sudden end to the threats and violence, wondering if Winger Wright had been killed or otherwise muzzled. They were dubious yet cautiously optimistic.
Canceled events were rescheduled under heavy security protocols. Services were well-attended again. Bar and bat mitzvahs were scheduled and joyously celebrated. Winger’s followers were puzzled at his disappearance, afraid to act without his leadership and inspiration. Privately, many wondered if he had been killed in a raid or some such intrusion. Cowards all, none of them had the stomach to lead Winger’s revolution, and life began to return to normal.
Rich and Gail Cooper were among the last Temple Kol Yisrael members to climb aboard the Jewish activity train. Rich was a pragmatic, non-confrontational individual who preferred to patiently await safety. He relied on the peacekeepers rather than actively fighting for peace. Finally satisfied that his son could be safely called to the Torah, he rescheduled Josh’s bar-mitzvah. It was a decision he would soon regret.
As the title indicates, this book is about a horrific anti-semitic event involving a trusted neighbor who may or may not be a wolf in sheep's clothing. An underlying theme is a woman's struggle for professional recognition and respect in a predominantly male environment within the FBI. In tandem, these themes are attention-grabbing and carry momentum throughout the book.
The story is compelling and timely, given current geopolitics. The narrative emphasizes heightened awareness of heinous language and the extended violence as a consequence of a distant religious war. The inference is to combat prejudice through vigilance and unity rather than silent protest and desensitization, which too often results from the inability to process grief and horror.
The author focuses on the main characters central to the crime, which includes the bar mitzvah boy (Josh), his parents (Gail and Rich), their friend/attorney (Zach), their neighbor (Chip Ellis), an FBI agent (Clare) and an investigator (Micah). Each character has a backstory, a personal agenda and varied drivers. However, there is a missing element worth exploring relative to the concept that evil hides in plain sight. I think the author could have delved more deeply into how a culprit's spouse and children can be as clueless as strangers.
The ending is an extraordinary wrap-up, though I found the narrative to be too heavy on sermonizing, unnecessary because the witty dialogue, interesting characters and intriguing chain of events allow the powerful message to stand on its own: "I will not cede ground to these bigots, nor will I remain silent." The story is strong enough to convey the essence without any exhortation.
I recommend this book as a legal and FBI thriller, particularly in the investigation of hate crimes. This book is part of a series but does not require reading the books previously published.