CLEVELAND, Ohio — The paperwork said the mailed package contained $40 worth of women's camisoles. Someone in China sent it to a Toledo address.

Inside, there were no camisoles -- just low-quality, fake NFL jerseys with misspellings of players' names and poor quality stitching, records show. Federal agents had tracked the package and others like it to Richard Schmidt, a Toledo man who ran a sports memorabilia shop in Bowling Green.

But what began with investigators chasing box loads of counterfeit jerseys and baseball caps ended in one of the most perplexing seizures of weapons in Ohio: Authorities in December nabbed 18 guns that included assault rifles, more than 40,000 rounds of ammunition and body armor from Schmidt, a felon who killed a man and wounded two other people in 1989.

Investigators also found possible links to white supremacist groups. He had a VHS tape of a national meeting of the National Socialist Movement and stickers from the National Alliance, according to an inventory of seized items filed in U.S. District Court in Toledo. Agents also obtained notes with the names of Jewish and NAACP leaders in Detroit.

One page had the name of Scott Kaufman, the chief executive officer of the Jewish Federation of Metropolitan Detroit. He said he was stunned when federal agents showed up at his office.

"For a convicted violent felon to amass an arsenal with 40,000 rounds of ammunition with no red flags popping up is problematic,'' Kaufman said. "No matter where you stand on the gun issue, it makes you wonder. The moment I saw my name in this guy's notebook, I freaked out.''

As the debate over gun control rages, Schmidt's case underscores the relative ease in which felons can land weapons without a hint of suspicion. Under federal law, felons cannot possess weapons.

"I can't tell you how he got all those guns and ammunition,'' said U.S. Attorney Steven Dettelbach. "It's not that I won't tell you; it's that I can't. This is somebody who should never have had one gun, one bullet. But he had an entire arsenal.''

Schmidt, 48, pleaded guilty to federal gun and counterfeiting charges in July. When he is sentenced in October, prosecutors are expected to push for a sentence of several years in prison. His attorney, however, said Schmidt is neither a radical nor a monster.

"He's a survivalist; he had no intent to cause anyone harm,'' said Edward Bryan, a federal public defender in Cleveland. "His collection of firearms and ammunition was similar to his collection of other items. He believes that our society may collapse one day, and he had to be prepared for what would happen.''

Bryan said Schmidt is a loner, not a member of a group out to kill or maim. He said Schmidt has hoarded food and gasoline to prepare for the possibility of society's collapse.

"He believes that the world could turn upside down in a day, and, quite frankly, it feels that way sometimes,'' Bryan said. "He's an engaging person who is very well-read and studies various cultures. It's the government's MO to create monsters out of some of the people it prosecutes. And Rick Schmidt is not a monster.''

On Aug. 21, 1989, Schmidt and a friend left a bar and began arguing with three people. Anthony Torres, 20, grabbed a baseball bat; Schmidt grabbed a 9 mm semiautomatic, according to state parole records and published reports.

The parole records show the men faced off, and Schmidt fired three shots into Torres' chest, killing him. Schmidt fired more shots, striking two friends of Torres in the legs, the parole records show. He was convicted of manslaughter and felonious assault, and he served 13 years in prison.

Schmidt returned to Toledo in 2003 after getting out of prison. State incorporation records show he soon formed a nonprofit, the Vinland Preservation League, designed to push environmental and historical conservation and preservation.

The name of the nonprofit suggests more about Schmidt. In 2005, the Southern Poverty Law Center, which tracks hate groups, made note of a profile on yahoo.com involving a Rick Schmidt from Toledo, who went by vinlander101. Photos from the profile match Schmidt.

The law center lists the Vinlanders Social Club as a rogue group that "had a reputation for drinking, brawling and following a racist version of Odinism, a form of ancient paganism practiced by Vikings."

Records do not indicate when he opened his sports memorabilia business, Spindletop Sports Zone in the Woodland Mall in Bowling Green. But a federal search warrant affidavit says agents began tracking shipments of counterfeit goods in September 2011.

That's when authorities searched a package addressed to Schmidt from the Fuzhou Loujian Foreign Trading Co. in China. A manifest listed the contents as men's clothing. But investigators instead found 55 NFL jerseys, "the quality of which was found to be very low,'' the affidavit said.

Agents tracked several other packages labeled as men's clothing, women's camisoles and women's purses. Each had caps and jerseys from various pro sports leagues. The jerseys had misspellings on labels, poor stitching and color inconsistency, the affidavit said.

In April 2012, agents began tailing Schmidt and watched as he placed boxes of items in four trailers outside his store. The investigation continued until December, when FBI agents bought items at the business. They later searched the store, Schmidt's home and three vehicles.

They found more than jerseys and caps. Agents also noticed the weapons. Investigators found three assault rifles, three 9mm handguns and four shotguns among the weapons, as well as the ammunition and a bullet-proof vest.

Duncan Brown, an assistant U.S. attorney in Cleveland, declined to discuss the case, citing Schmidt's pending sentencing. That's when Bryan is expected to urge U.S. District Judge Jack Zouhary to show leniency toward Schmidt.

And the case that began as a simple counterfeit racket involving poorly made football jerseys from China will end with a businessman headed to prison for stockpiling enough weapons and ammunition to arm a small police department.



Plain Dealer news researcher Jo Ellen Corrigan contributed to this story.