WASHINGTON — Among tax lawyers, the most invasive type of random audit carried out by the IRS is known, only partly jokingly, as "an autopsy without the benefit of death."
The odds of being selected for that audit in any given year are tiny — out of nearly 153 million individual returns filed for 2017, for example, the IRS targeted about 5,000, or roughly 1 out of 30,600.
One of the few who received a bureaucratic letter with the news that his 2017 return would be under intensive scrutiny was James Comey, who had been fired as FBI director that year by President Donald Trump. Furious over what he saw as Comey's lack of loyalty and his pursuit of the Russia investigation, Trump had continued to rail against him even after his dismissal, accusing him of treason, calling for his prosecution and publicly complaining about the money Comey received for a book after his dismissal.
Comey was informed of the audit in 2019. Two years later, the IRS, still under the leadership of a Trump appointee after President Joe Biden took office, picked about 8,000 returns for the same type of audit Comey had undergone from the 154 million individual returns filed in 2019, or about 1 in 19,250.
Among those who were chosen to have their 2019 returns scrutinized was the man who had been Comey's deputy at the bureau: Andrew McCabe, who served several months as acting FBI director after Comey's firing.

McCabe was later dismissed by the Trump Justice Department after its watchdog accused him of misleading internal FBI investigators. Like Comey, he had come to be perceived as an enemy by Trump, who assailed him, accused him of treason and raised questions about his finances long after pushing for his dismissal and prosecution, a pattern that continued even after Trump lost the 2020 election and began trying to overturn the results.
Comey and McCabe — whose spouses were also audited because both couples filed joint returns — provided the letters initiating their audits to The New York Times. Comey provided the Times with a privacy release allowing the IRS to respond to a Freedom of Information Act request about his case. Neither man knew that the other had been audited until they were told by a reporter for the Times.
The minuscule chances of the two highest-ranking FBI officials — who made some of the most politically consequential law enforcement decisions in a generation — being randomly subjected to a detailed scrub of their tax returns a few years after leaving their posts presents extraordinary questions.