When Bean pulled into the parking lot in front of the hotel, he locked his car and walked up to the royal blue carpet leading under the golden canopy and into the lobby. He was a little intimidated in spite of himself. The doorman was decked out in a brilliant red uniform with gold epaulets and plenty of gold braid. The bellhops scurried here and there in their brilliant red coats and yellow trousers.

Bean stopped at the registration desk and identified himself. An obviously worried desk clerk picked up the phone, and almost immediately, a heavy-set, red-faced man walked up. Jim looked him over as he approached ... if he was hotel security, he certainly looked the part. He stopped chewing on the ugly remains of an inch long cigar long enough to say,

"Detective Bean, I'm Charlie Shultz, hotel security. I've been waiting for you. The room is locked and the only other person who knows anything about this is the maid. I have her in my office, waiting for you to take her statement.

He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper, "Detective Bean, the hotel would be very grateful, even financially, if you get my drift; if the news of this incident could be kept sorta secret. If it gets out and starts a panic, we could be ruined."

Bean snorted, "First, stop calling me Detective Bean! Just Bean will do. Second, I'll ignore your stupid attempt at bribery because I can understand the pressure you're under.

"The class reunion and the championship game -- the hotel must be filled to capacity. I want to assure you that for the present, it's to our advantage that little or no news leak to the media. The less the opposition knows of our activities, the better chance we have for a successful investigation.

"Now, let's go talk to the maid and get her statement, before she goes out of her mind sitting in your office all alone. Then, I'll go and look at the body."

Shultz lead the way to his office. He unlocked and opened his door, and they both went into the office. The maid was a poor, miserable sight. She was sitting huddled in a big over-stuffed chair with her arms wrapped around her knees and tears streaming down her cheeks.

"There now," said Bean soothingly, "it's going to be all right. My name is James Bean, and I'm a detective. I'm going to have to ask you just a few questions, and when we're through, the hotel is going to let you have the rest of the week off with pay. Isn't that right, Mister Shultz?" Shultz started to say something, but changed his mind and only scowled and nodded unhappily. Bean continued, "Now first, what's your name?"

"Nora," was her quavering reply, "Nora Baxter"

"Good, that was easy wasn't it? Now Nora, I want you to tell me everything you remember doing and seeing from the moment that you started working -- up to, but not including opening the door where you found the body. Understand?"

Nora nodded and started to talk, "Well, there's not much to tell, I am the maid for the fourth and fifth floors. I finished on the fifth floor and took my cleaning cart on the elevator down to the fourth floor.

There are twenty-four suites on each floor, and I always start at the low numbers and work my way up. There were 'Do Not Disturb' signs on 401, 408, and 411, so I skipped them.

There were guests coming out of rooms and going down on the elevator, but nothing happened that was unusual. It was just like every other day." and she started crying again.

Bean handed her a box of tissues, "Just take your time, everything will be all right." She sniffled and continued,

"There is really nothing to tell. I finally got to room 414 and unlocked the door"

"Stop right there!" Bean said, "I want you to think carefully, was the door locked with just the snaplock that locks when you close the door, or did you need both keys to get in?"

She thought for a moment, "That's right -- I remember now; I knocked first because I thought someone was still asleep. When I didn't get any answer, I used both keys and went on in, and then's when I saw him and -- and it was horrible!" Once again, she started sobbing uncontrollably.

Bean told Shultz, "That's all I need from her. You can let the poor soul go home now. Then, you and I'll go take a look at the body."

When Shultz and Bean arrived outside of suite 414, Shultz bent to unlock the door using keys from a ring chained to his belt.

"Just how many keys are there to each door, and who has access to them? Bean asked.

"Hell," Shultz mumbled as he tried to talk and chew on the ugly stub of his cigar. "I have a set of masters, the maids check out their keys when they come on shift and turn them back in as they go off. The bellhops and maintenance people all have to check out keys on an as-needed basis, and of course the paying guest while they are in. If they leave the hotel they are supposed to leave their keys at the desk."

Shultz opened the door and stepped back to let Bean enter the room first. Bean walked into the small combination livingroom-diningroom-office. He could see the door leading to the bedroom was to the left and half closed. He went to the door, opened it, and stopped so abruptly that Shultz collided with his back.

"I kinda thought that would get you," Shultz chuckled.

The body was that of a male about forty, and he was laying propped up in bed very neatly with a breakfast in bed tray across his lap. What shocked Bean was not so neat. His throat had been cut ear to ear, and on the breakfast tray lay his testicles. "Good God!" Bean cried out, "This is awful."

There didn't appear to have been any struggle, the bedroom was neat and clean, clothes all hanging in the closet, and in the nightstand drawer was a wallet containing four hundred dollars and several credit cards. The man's name, according to his drivers licence, was George Azure.

His residence was Fresno California, and it appeared from his business cards that he was the owner of The Azure Skies Realty Company of Fresno. Further searching of the nightstand revealed he was an alumni, class of 68.

His invitation was in the drawer and under it was another invitation. It was small and folded more like a wedding invitation. On the outside was a picture similar to a Sunday school drawing of Joseph in his coat of many colors, and inside it read,

"Dear Father;

This reunion will surely bring,
Guilty memories of your final fling.
You and your friends were so drunk and wild,
You raped my mother and left her with child.

Bean after reading it, picked it up by one corner in his handkerchief. He showed it to Shultz saying, "This could be the motive. Do you know anyone named Joe or Joseph that works for the hotel?"

"No, I don't think so. A Jack and a Jake, but no Joes."

They were interrupted by the arrival of the coroner and the forensics team. So Bean and Shultz went back into the living room area to continue their discussion. Bean told Shultz,

"I want to interview every one of the hotel employees who worked, or for any reason spent any time on the fourth floor last night or today. And I want to interview them right here, as close to that bedroom door as we can get."

"Ok, I know them well enough to supply some details, and I'll pull their personnel records for reference; while you're doing your questioning."

The coroner entered, "I don't know if you saw this. It was under the testicles, and there wasn't any bleeding. He was dead before the surgery." He handed Bean a small folded card. The card was similar to the first. It had the picture of the child Joseph, and inside, Bean read the angry verse.

My mother lies beneath the sod,
Facing West away from God.
The first to die is Mister Blue,
It is a thing that I must do.
The next rapist on the scene,
Will, I'm sure, be Mister Green.
I'll make sure that he is dead,
By slowly cutting off his head.

"Aw shit!" groaned Bean, "This isn't just a kooky killing, it's a goddamned blood vendetta. Shultz, if we don't get a handle on this, damn quick -- we're going to have more killings, and your hotel is going to get a whole bunch of free unwanted publicity.

"You go ahead and line up the interviews and personnel records. While your doing that I'm going over to the college to get some background on this class of 68, and any newspaper records of that graduation weekend. We've got at least four more alumni in mortal danger, and I don't even know who to try to protect." And out the door he went.

On a sudden hunch, he detoured to the registration desk on his way out. He called the desk clerk over and asked for the register record on room 414. When the clerk presented him with the record, Bean asked,

"Were you by any chance on duty when Mister Azure checked in?"

The clerk, who was an elderly, slim, hawknosed man wearing thin, gold-rimmed glasses, answered, "Yes, I was on duty, yesterday afternoon about five when Mister Azure checked in."

"Do you remember if he asked about the whereabouts of any friends or anyone he was scheduled to meet?"

"He was quite insistent on checking on the other four reservations he had made, and he was worried that with the large crowds; his whole group would not be on the fourth floor, as he had arranged."

"And did you manage to get them all on the fourth floor?"

"Oh yes, We put Mister Azure in 414 and Mister Joe Kelly in 416 because they were from the same firm. Mister William Scarlotti has 418. He's the actor, you know. And Mister Hector Amarillo is in 420. I think he works for the I.N.S. in Yuma, Arizona. And Mister Marty Fucus is in 422.

"He's the only other one that has checked in so far. He arrived this morning about ten, and if you ask me -- he is some kind of unsavory character, not at all the type the Sheritan enjoys renting to!"

"Thank you very much for your help," said Bean, suddenly feeling a sense of urgency. "Can you get Shultz on the phone for me?"

"Certainly, I'll beep him."

As soon as Bean had Shultz on the phone, he told him about the four suites on the fourth floor. He said,

"Charlie, I've got to still get out to the university, and I don't have any local backup, so in the interest of keeping this quiet and preventing another murder; would you please glue yourself to this Marty Fucus until I get back to question him?"

"Sure," chuckled Shultz, "if you'll let me call you Jim instead of Bean all the time. Your folks shoulda called you Lima or Pinto or Chili or even maybe Jumpin." He laughed at his own joke and then he hung up.

Bean laughed to himself as he pulled out of the parking lot, "Shultzy wasn't a bad guy, once you got used to that rotten cigar. Maybe he could talk him into a fishing trip, when this mess was all over."

At the college, he struck out completely. There were several teachers who had been teaching for over twenty years, and they were all adamant in their statements that during graduation of the class of 68, there was no scandal, no rape, and no complaint by any student or employee of any type of mistreatment including rape or battery.

A quick check at the newspaper office resulted in the same. As Bean headed back to the hotel, he was beginning to wonder if, perhaps, Josef wasn't making a horrible mistake. Then again he could easily have been lied to, when he was a child, by someone with reason to want these men dead. If the boy was only an unwitting tool in a complex murder scheme, it would make the case even harder to prosecute. Bean shook his head in dismay, it seemed that his cases were getting more and more complex lately.

When Bean arrived at the desk, there was a message waiting from Shultzy. It read, "Jim, this guy Marty is such a squirrel. He's been trying to get into see Azure in 414 and raising such a ruckus that I had to sit on him. I've got him, under wraps, up in his room, 422. I'll just have to hold him here till you get back. So please hurry."

Bean laughed to himself and hurried to the elevator. Getting off at the fourth floor, he knocked on 422. Shultz peeked out and opened the door -- saying, "Boy am I glad to see you. Take over, will you? This is Marty Fucus. Marty this is Detective Bean, he will answer all of your questions."

Bean showed Marty his badge and said," Mister Fucus, I'm sorry, but the sad news is -- the person who handled your reservation, has been murdered. The circumstances surrounding his death are very strange; and we have good reason to believe that perhaps your life, and the lives of three others are equally in jeopardy.

"We've kept the news of this confidential, as we feel the investigation has a much better chance for success if the media doesn't turn this into a circus. Let's start with the obvious, Mister Fucus, can you tell me why, someone would want to kill the five of you?"

When Bean told Marty that Azure had been murdered; Marty had gone white as a ghost, started shaking, and mumbled, "Oh Jesus, it's started already." He had been nervously biting his lip ever since. It was obvious that he knew something. He squirmed in his seat, pinched his lower lip with his thumb and forefinger and said,

"Yeah, I know. But I can't tell you right now. You see -- I ain't got the right to tell. You gotta protect me until the other guys get here. It'll be today. As they show up, send them up to my room after they check in, and we'll have a meeting. If they all agree, I'll tell ya the whole story. If not, I guess we'll just hafta take our chances."

Bean wasn't very happy about the delay, but realized that there was no way that he could force Marty Fucus to talk, so he said, "Ok, We will play it your way until the others arrive. But, one way or the other, you people will tell me what you know, or instead of the Reno Sheritan -- you folks will celebrate your reunion at the Greybar Hotel for obstruction of justice."

He turned to Shultz, "Charlie, I'm going to stay here with Marty. You go down to the desk, and as these men show up; get them registered, escort them to their room, wait while they unpack, and then bring them here. And need I caution you? Be careful, watch your back, and don't tell them anything -- except that Marty is waiting to talk to them."

"Ok," Shultz waved and went out the door. Bean opened his briefcase and pulled out the two cards with verse and the picture of Joseph and his many colored coat on them. He held them up for Marty to see.

"These mean anything to you?" He asked. Marty looked and pulled out one identical to the Dear Father invitation.

"Yeah, we all got one. That's why we got all the rooms on the same floor, so we could watch each other's backs."

The phone rang suddenly. "You answer it," said Marty, "I don't want anyone to even know where I am." Bean picked up the phone and heard Charlie's voice saying,

"Joe Kelly had already checked in by the time I got down here. Why don't you and Marty go get him? Cause I don't want to miss anybody else." Bean said, "Ok" and hung up.

"Come on Marty, Joe Kelly checked in while we were talking. Let's go get him. I don't want to leave you here alone." They went out into the corridor, Marty double locked his door, and together they walked down to suite 416 where Bean knocked loudly on the door.

They waited for a couple of minutes then knocked again, and when Bean started to pound on the door the third time, several other doors opened -- one of the heads that looked out was obviously one of the maids.

Bean waved to her and flashed his badge and waited impatiently as she slowly trudged down the corridor. She looked to be Mexican, Turkish, or Indian and Bean prayed she knew enough English to get the key and open the door.

When she finally arrived, she said nothing, just grunted and reached under her apron and produced a huge keyring. She unlocked the door, grunted again, and trudged back down the hall to where she had left her cleaning cart.

Bean motioned Marty behind him and cautiously opened the door.

Slowly he inched his way into the livingroom area. It was unoccupied -- Kelly had to be in the bedroom, and suddenly Bean didn't want to go in there to find out. He had chills running down his spine, and he could hear his own heart beating. As he squeezed through the bedroom door without touching it, he breathed a sigh of relief because the room was empty. Maybe Joe Kelly was downstairs at the bar, he certainly hoped so!

Only one more room to go, and that was the bathroom. So with a lot more confidence he opened the bathroom door, walked in, and promptly almost puked. Joe Kelly's body was laying on it's back in the tub, and his head was in the commode, staring up at Bean out of sightless eyes. He heard Marty Fucus screaming behind him in mindless horror. He turned and grabbed Marty by the shoulders and shook him until his screams subsided into retching sobs.

Bean called the coroner and the lab crew, then he took Marty back to his room to wait for the others. Before leaving, he went back into the bathroom to read the small folded card that he had seen sitting on top of the commode.

"Now, two have died, for their crimes;
That leaves three more little rhymes.
I'll put an end to this deadly game;
When, our, two colors are the same."

"Colors? colors?" Bean mused to himself, as he walked back to Marty's room. He pulled the first two cards out of his briefcase and laid them alongside the one from Kelly's room. At first, nothing, then he noticed the difference. The first card, that had accompanied the invitation, illustrated Joseph's coat in five colors, the second, found in Azures room, had only four colors. Blue was missing. The third card, from Kelly's room, had only three colors. Green was gone leaving only red, yellow, and purple. "Damn!" thought Bean, "He is playing a sick game. Red, yellow, and purple -- Scarlotti, Amarillo, and Fucus.

Shultz opened the door and escorted two very angry looking citizens into the room.

Shultz stated, "This is Detective Bean, He will answer your questions. Jim, I haven't told them anything yet, and they decided not to unpack until after they had a chance to talk to Marty, so I brought them directly up here. Okay?"

Before Bean could answer, the larger of the two men, who obviously had to be Amarillo, took one look at Marty Fucus and said, "Madre Mia! Marty, what the hell happened to you? You look terrible." Fucus couldn't answer, he just continued shaking and crying. The man turned to Bean and said, "I'm Hector Amarillo, can you tell me what's wrong with Marty, and what the Hell's going on here?"

Bean answered, "Your friend Marty has just returned from finding his friend, Joe Kelly's dead body in the bathtub and his head in the commode. I'm afraid it has him more than a little upset. Now if you and your other friend, William Scarlotti, will sit down; I'll fill you in on everything that has happened, and why I had you brought up here."

By the time he had finished briefing them, Scarlotti was in almost the same condition as Marty Fucus. Hector Amarillo appeared to be more in control than the others.

Bean glared at Hector and threatened, "Marty has already told me that you fellows know why this is happening, but he wouldn't give me any details until all of you had agreed to tell the story.

"Now we have two homicides and potentially more so don't get cute. The penalty for obstruction of justice in a murder investigation is far worse than the penalty for rape. So don't hold back. I want to know what happened twenty years ago, that you fellows are paying for today. I need all the details and I need them quickly, if you expect me to be able to keep you alive."

Hector turned and looked at the other two who hardly raised their heads except to only nod slightly, and then to returned their gaze to the floor. He turned back to Bean, shaking his head in disgust and said, "This one, here, that you haven't met, is William Scarlotti.

"The name that he picked for his stage name, is Will Scarlet, after one of Robinhood's merry men. He's sort of a nance now but back in school, he was just one of the guys. The five of us all played on the varsity baseball team, and back in 68 when we won the championship, we were really flying high. We had graduated that morning and won the final game that afternoon, and by ten or so that evening we were really celebrating.

"As I remember, we were all sitting in the back of Azure's pick-up truck in the stadium parking lot. We had gone through a couple of cases of beer, and had settled down to some serious drinking, the five of us and old 'Jack Daniels'; when along came these two good looking chicks.

"We whistled and yelled at them, but they just stuck their noses in the air and kept on walking. Then Marty, the ladies man, he jumps out and grabs the one by the arm. She screams and kicks Marty. The other one runs screaming down the road. Marty grabs at her again, and when he does -- he rips her blouse right off her.

"She wasn't wearing a bra, and the sight of that half naked girl did something to all of us. We grabbed her and dragged her into the bushes and took turns with her until we had enough. We left her in the bushes, got into the truck, and split.

"The next morning, we all went our separate ways after agreeing to back each other up; if there was any trouble over what we had done.

"And we never heard anything about it until this nightmare began."

"Did the girl say anything, or did any of you have any idea who she might be? A student or a teacher maybe?" Bean asked.

"No, The only thing I remember is she started out pleading with us in English, and when we wouldn't stop she started cursing or yelling in some foreign language. I know it wasn't Spanish or any other Latin type of lingo. She looked sorta like one of those Arabs."

"Ok, that's all I need for right now." Bean stated, "I think you'd be much safer if you stayed together here in this suite until I can make some other arrangements. Charlie, why don't you arrange for room service to take their dinner orders; and if you would, I'd appreciate your staying with them until I get back. I have some leads to follow and should be back in less than two hours."

"All right," groaned Charlie, "but don't be any longer than that 'cause my shift was over two hours ago, and this hasn't been the best day of my life." Bean grinned and left the room.

When Bean got downstairs to the lobby, he went to the desk and asked to see the manager. He asked for and received a list of all temporary help hired to accommodate the reunion and the baseball series.

Then he drove back to the College, went to the registrar's records department, and went over the entire student body roster and the teachers roster for the year of 1968 and 1969 and the current year. He took several pages of notes as he read.

When he had completed his search, he returned to the Reno Police Station, and put two overworked typists to work making long distance phone calls. They were to trace any female student that had failed to return to school in 1969 as scheduled. There were twelve girls from five countries including the United States.

While they were doing that, Bean started laying out the known, the probables, and the possible on his blackboard. He preferred to lay it out like a problem in logic then systematically come up with one or more logical solutions and go from there.

"So," he thought, "first the known...
(a) The killer had access to the hotel keys and obviously traveled unnoticed throughout the hotel. From the amount of time spent at the murder scene, doing the surgery and setting the scene, he was confident that he would not be disturbed. Kelly had been at the hotel no more than an hour, but the killer still had time to do his thing and escape.

Probability.. The killer is an employee of the hotel, and has an accomplice, a lookout, or someone to create a diversion.

(b) The killer already knows which one of the remaining three is his father -- otherwise he wouldn't have made the comment about 'when the two colors are the same' I think that the rhymes are meant to terrify the victims and muddy the water. And I can't believe that the killer and/or killers would be working for the hotel under their real names, soo.."

Bean picked up the phone and called Shultz. When he got him he said, "Charlie, I'll be there to relieve you in about fifteen minutes, but before I leave here I need to know, truthfully now; does the hotel hire their temporary help through an agency, or do they just get them from off the street? If it's the latter, how do they handle workman's comp., withholding, and all that stuff?" There was a long pause, then Charlie coughed nervously and said,

"Shit! Jim, I've probably already lost my job, so I guess I can't lose anything more by telling the truth. All temporary or extra help just gets paid under the table. Everybody does it, how do you think waitresses, gardeners, and baby sitters can work so cheap?" Bean interrupted,

"Charlie, calm down, I'm not interested in the hotel's business ethics, I was only trying to determine how closely the temporary help gets screened. You know -- true names, criminal records, previous addresses, and things like that."

"Ok, Charlie, I'm heading your way. Don't let anyone, who hasn't worked for the hotel for at least five years, into that room for any reason."

Bean gathered up all of the hotel and college records, gave the hotel phone number to the two ladies doing the phone tracing, told them to keep looking, and left.

When he arrived at the hotel, Shultz gave him a comical left handed salute, said, "See you in the morning." and left to get some sleep. The three men had been asleep. They woke up briefly when he arrived, he assured them that he was making progress, and they promptly went back to sleep.

Bean checked the small refrigerator and was delighted to find several cans of cold beer and a half of a pizza. He had four maids, three bellhops, two cooks, and one bartender to check out.

All were temporary help hired within the last two weeks, and he did remember the manager saying that all employees were required to be photographed and fingerprinted. It was the bonding company's requirement, and the insurance company required that all employees be bonded. Bean didn't know how closely they checked but at least, the photos and prints were a place to start.

It was almost dawn when he made his first significant find. A female professor named Iana Hormuz, who taught a Persian history course, was on sick leave from the university. Her name also appeared on the list of the graduating class of 68.

His list of temporaries was now divided into three groups. One was labeled impossible, the next improbable, and the last unknown. In the unknown group he had two maids, two bellhops, and one of the cooks.

He had selected them for various reasons, either their employment history was inconsistent with their current occupation, or there were gaps or missing pages in their stories. Anyway, he intended to thoroughly check them out and interview them in the morning.

At seven in the morning, it was a tired bleary-eyed James Bean who opened the door to a disgustingly good humored Shultz.

"Top of the morning to ya, Jim." He chortled, "you look terrible. Not much sleep, huh? Here's a couple of messages that came in to the desk for you. They kept them there since they didn't have any old timers, on duty, to deliver them."

Bean took the notes and read them quietly. The first was from the coroner and had some unexpected news. It said that both men had been dead prior to being mutilated. They had both died of a lethal injection of phenobarbitone.

The strength and consistency suggested a product called Eutha-6, commonly used by veterinary doctors to euthanize animals. Death was almost instantaneous.

The second note was from his team of researchers. The two girls had located and checked out all of the drop-outs except one, and they suggested that he check on her, himself, because her sister was a faculty member at the university. The girl's name was Beza Hormuz, and her sister was Professor Iana Hormuz.

Bean turned thoughtfully to Shultz and asked, "Charlie, while I run back out to the college, would you do me two last favors? I'm about to wrap this up, but I need just a little more information. Would you find out all you can about these two bellhops, Ismal Hassim and Steven Paul Ectrum. Use the phone or send someone you trust, but I need everything.

"All I know right now is that they are part time, they are students, and that they have local addresses. Get me their hobbies, their love life, their prior histories, and even their political views; and try to have it by noon would you? Thanks Charlie ... Oh yes, and get these fine gentlemen some breakfast in your spare time. I wouldn't want them to die on an empty stomach."

Charlie groaned, "You sure don't want much, do you? Okay I'll do my best, but when this is over, you owe me."

Bean left, and Charlie Shultz ordered breakfast, told the three men to keep quiet, stay away from the windows, and don't open the door for any reason. Then he got on the phone and started to work.

His main focus was income because he knew that you can't afford tuition and costs to go to The University of Nevada, Reno on bellhops wages. The money had to come from somewhere, or there had to be a scholarship.

Bean gobbled down a scrambled egg and sausage sandwich and washed it down with some luke warm coffee while driving back to the college. He was beginning to feel like a yo-yo. It seemed getting information that was full and complete from University of Nevada, Reno was an extremely difficult task, and he wondered if the students found this to be true also?

On arriving at the registrar of records counter, he immediately asked to speak to someone that could provide background information on Professor Iana Hormuz.

"Professor Hormuz is on sick leave at the moment." The clerk responded, "What else do you need to know? You've already had access to her personnel folder."

"I want to talk to someone that knew her as a student, possibly knew her sister, Beza, and can tell me how she came to be employed here." Bean replied, "You know, a family friend, a colleague, an old boy friend, or maybe even a girl friend. You never know -- her records indicate that she has never married."

The clerk seemed to be a little offended at the implication. She seemed to puff up and reluctantly offered,

"Why don't you talk to our Professor Richards? He's the one that sponsored her on her Visa application, arranged for her tenure here as an Assistant Professor, and is believed to be a friend of the family. If he can't satisfy your curiosity, then no other person at this university will be of any help."

After getting directions to find Professor Richards, Bean thanked her and left.

Professor Richards greeted Bean with a crushing handshake, pointed to a chair strategically placed in the center and somewhat lower than his desk. Bean eased into the chair flexing his fingers to reduce the pain. Richards noticed and grinned,

"I'm seventy, but not ready for the sod yet. That upstart on the board of directors wants me to retire, but I told him -- when he can put my arm down, fair and square, then I'll retire and head for the old folks home. How about you? wanna try? no? ... Okay. Just what can I do for you, Mister Bean?"

"It's Detective Bean. I'm a California cop on loan to the Reno Police department," Bean answered, as he opened his wallet and displayed his badge. "I came to ask you for some help on a very old case.

"As you know, the twenty year reunion of the class of 68 is in process as we speak. And you probably know that twenty years ago a violent crime was perpetrated against a female student. Five drunken young men repeatedly raped her and left her in the bushes by the stadium.

"If this crime was not reported, and was covered up by the university, it will be treated as a very serious offence. I don't believe this was the case, but I do believe that you knew about it; so what I want from you is the whole story, and everything you know about the Hormuz family."

Bean watched Richards carefully, at first he appeared to be getting ready to be indignant and to bluster it out, and then he just wilted. He suddenly looked his seventy years. He coughed, cleared his throat, and said,

"Your right young man. It's time the story be told. I only hope that you have the decency to insure that the deserving get punished and the innocent not suffer.

"Iana brought Beza to my home in the middle of the night. They came to me because their father and I had been friends for years. After the Shah's reforms and acceptance of western culture in 1963, their father, Ghamil had agreed to their attending this university providing that I keep an eye on them. He wasn't really sold on the idea.

"Anyway, poor Beza was in shock, she was bloody, bruised, and her clothes were torn as if by a wild animal."

"When Iana told me what happened, I wanted to call the police immediately, but she talked me out of it. She said the police wouldn't believe two Iranian girls against five American boys from respected families. She said the notoriety would ruin Beza.

"She also argued that it could deprive other exchange students of their chance to study here in America; and the most effective argument was that her father would undoubtedly kill me for allowing it to happen.

"She swore me to silence, and after Beza recovered enough to travel, they returned to Iran. I didn't have any contact until the next term, when I received a short note saying that, Beza would not be returning to finish her studies. Please drop her from the rolls. It was signed Assistant Professor Iana Hormuz. From that I gathered that she had pursued a teaching career, and obviously didn't have the privacy to explain about Beza.

"Three years later, I received by messenger a sealed letter. It had been hand carried by a new exchange student who obviously had no idea what was in it. It read that Beza had arrived home from school very pregnant. She was unaware and unfortunately after about four months, one of the older women pointed out the obvious to her father.

"He called in the family Physician who also confirmed the obvious."

"Ghamil, was an orthodox old school Shiite Muslim who believed implicitly in the 'Islamic codes of behavior,' and under no circumstances could a true follower of Islam be defiled with the blood of an infidel. He renounced Beza, she was no longer a member of his family, she would take up the veil and never marry, there would be no birth record of the child, and the child could not have an Islamic name.

"It would only be called 'Ghos Gazal' -- which in Iranian means Rainbow. Not one color or race, but many colors, just a mongrel. When the child was born Iana helped with the delivery, and the two sisters pledged to care for him and try to shelter him from the cruelty that they knew was inevitable. They called him Josef in the privacy of the home, but dared not elsewhere.

"When Beza would take little Josef out for walks in his stroller and later when he was able to walk by her side, the villagers would taunt her and make cruel remarks about her freakish looking child. As he grew more hair and his features developed it became even more apparent that he didn't even resemble an Iranian; and the children became even more cruel sometimes throwing stones until Beza would pick him up and run sobbing for shelter.

"Beza endured her Hell on Earth until she decided Josef would have a better chance without the constant reminder of her shame. She left him with Iana then she cut her wrists."

"They found her dead body the following morning, she had found her peace, but Josef's pain was just beginning.

"Iana went on to say that her father had never blamed him, for what had happened to his daughters. He only blamed himself for straying from the old ways, and letting the Shah's modern thinking affect his good judgement. And that she would be in contact later."

The Professor paused, and Bean was quick to ask, "And did she contact you again after that?"

"Not for several years," Richards replied, "It was in 1979, when the Ayatollah Khomeini returned from exile and took over the government that I received the next contact.

"Iana called me on the telephone frantic with fear that under the Ayatollah's strict Islamic rules; little Josef might be killed, and that she would be forced to give up her teaching career, return to the veil, and become a nonperson.

"She said it was happening all over Iran, and she begged me to aid her in escaping and applying for political asylum in the United States.

"I agreed to help, and in her case it was no problem for I served in the diplomatic service before coming here.

"However, Josef was more difficult because even in Iran he did not exist. Birth records had to be forged, school records, and a set of dead parents. Finally, after all was arranged, Iana and Josef arrived in Reno in September of 1979.

"Iana was to fill an open position as Assistant Professor of Persian Culture and Josef was her ward. She has been an asset here at the university ever since her arrival, and Josef has grown into a fine young man.

"If Professor Hormuz hadn't been stricken with severe migraine and left for somewhere in the East for treatment, she could have told you all of this. Unfortunately, she has been suffering from these headaches more and more frequently lately."

"Well, Professor Richards, I want to thank you very much for your time and all of the background information that you've given me." Bean said as he slowly got to his feet. He had been listening so intently that he hadn't noticed his right foot going to sleep. He silently prayed that it didn't collapse when he tried to walk. Wouldn't make for a very dignified exit for the law. "Oh, one last thing," he asked as he slid his foot forward and pressed down gingerly. "What is young Josef's major? Is it academic or technical or what?"

Richards replied, "I think that he intends to pursue a medical career, but I'm not sure. Incidentally, they had his name legally changed to something more American sounding before he started to grade school. I think Iana felt he had suffered enough over a silly thing like a name." He paused thoughtfully and said, "And for the life of me, I can't recall what they changed it to."

Bean thanked him again, and carefully limped to and through the door. He found his car and returned to Reno.

When he knocked on the door, and Shultz let him into the room, he looked at Fucus, Scarlotti, and Amarillo sitting over by the window playing poker -- already about half drunk. He couldn't help the feeling of revulsion that swept over him, but he said nothing.

He turned to Shultz, "Charlie, we're about to wrap this think up, what have you got for me?"

"Damn it Jim, you almost got me in trouble on this last bit of detective work. I no sooner started making some inquires about this Ishmal Hassim, and whammo! I get a visit from the United States Government Guys.

"They knock on the door, ask me to step out in the hall, and this one who calls himself Special Agent Mitchell proceeds to tell me to mind my own business and back off.

I would guess that maybe his family is relocated and protected, and so that left Ectrum. Believe it or not, he didn't exist on this planet before 1979.

"Frankly, Bean Old Boy, I find all this to be totally amazing. Murders, Rapists, nobody is who they are supposed to be, and I'm suppose to be head of security."

"Shit man! I think I'll change jobs with the janitor. Maybe, I'll be more qualified."

"Hold on there Charlie, Don't be so damn hard on yourself. If you hadn't been helping me on this case, I'd be a long way from a solution, and these three might also be dead by now.

"So if you would be so kind, I would like you to bring the maid, who let us into Joe Kelly's room, up here for questioning."

"Should I bring an interpreter?"

"No, if we need one -- I'm sure that Mr. Amarillo can help. Right Hector?" Hector answered Bean with, "Sure, any one of us can speak Spanish."

There was a small desk and telephone set-up across the room from where the men were playing cards. It was almost at the bedroom door. Bean went over and borrowed the unused chair from the card game and placed it on the other side of the desk where he could sit and conduct the interview. He could still watch the hall door, and the men playing cards.

When Shultz returned with the woman, he sat her in the chair opposite Bean and looked at Bean expectantly. Bean said, "Now Charlie, I want you to bring up both of those bellhops, bring them inside, and wait with them by the door until I am through with this witness."

"Both of them?" asked Shultz.

"Both of them, Charlie."

"James, Me Boy, I hope you know what you're doing!" was Charlie's answer as he once again left the room. The woman sat quietly, hands in her lap, head down, waiting. Bean sat patiently waiting also, as he studied her hands and what he could see of her face; looking for some sign of nervousness, but there was none.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"No Sabe" she replied.

"Do you speak any English?"

"No Sabe" she answered.

It was then that Shultz entered with the two bellhops. He told them to just relax, but to stay standing at the door until the detective called them over for their interview.

Bean stood up and hit the desktop with his fist to get everyone's attention. He said loudly, "Professor Iana Hormuz, I am arresting you for the murders of George Azure and Joe Kelly. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of...

Josef knew it was over, 'but that couldn't be, his job was not even half complete. That damn policeman was ruining everything.' His eyes filled with tears, his mind with red rage, and he screamed. He howled his rage, rushed across the room, wrapped his arms around his father, and plunged through the window. It caught everyone by surprise, broken glass, Fucus and Amarillo as pale as ghosts, and Josef and his father, Will Scarlotti, locked in their first and last embrace falling, twisting, and turning to the concrete below.

When they landed, from above, you couldn't tell the difference between the scarlet of Steve Ectrums coat and the ever widening pool of blood emerging from the two bodies.

Shultz looked at Bean and said shakily, "Damn! Jim, did you plan this?"

"No, Charlie, I just figured that if he heard me arresting his Aunt for murder, that he might break down and confess and save us a lotta of extra work. I miscalculated on just how brainwashed she had him."

"Speaking of that woman," Shultz yelled, "Where the Hell is she? I haven't seen her since they took that dive through the window!"

"Oh, she should be back any minute now." Bean said, smiling smugly. And almost on cue, the door opened and Professor Hormuz was dragged cursing back into the room by two men dressed in nearly identical suits.

One of the men pointed at Shultz and said, "I thought that we had an understanding -- you leave Hassim alone, and we let you continue to live in this country. After our understanding, you drag him into this room, somebody takes a header out of the window, and this woman comes tearing out of the room and down the hall. Just what is going on here?"

Charlie looked over at Bean and said, "I think that I'll just let Detective Bean answer for me. Detective James Bean, these fine gentlemen are the FBI."

Bean nodded at the two men; then ignored them as he walked over and handcuffed the woman, while finishing his task of reading her her rights.

This time, however, she wasn't so quiet in fact her black eyes were filled with hatred and her words came hissing out of her mouth like cobra venom. "I know your western law, you will never convict me of anything, at the very worst possibly as an accessory, the most punishment would be seven years or less."

She said this, looking at Bean then she turned and half-dragged him over to where Fucus and Amarillo stood watching and hissed at them, "Josef's work will not be done nor will his soul rest while you live. When I am free, I will find you and finish his work. There is nowhere on this earth that you can hide from me!"

She then turned and meekly allowed Bean to turn her over to the waiting uniformed police officer.

The two FBI men had followed, and so on the sidewalk, standing beside the crushed bodies of Josef and his father, Bean told the whole story to the men concluding with a warning to the spokesman Special Agent Mitchell. He said,

"Agent Mitchell, there are right ways and wrong ways to get respect and cooperation from local authorities and your approach is all wrong.

The only thing you'll accomplish with threats, will be little or no cooperation; and believe me -- I'll personally report your conduct to Washington."

He then got their assurance that they would help in keeping the incident as quiet as possible.

The next day Bean stopped at the hotel to say good-bye to Charlie Shultz and to thank him for his help and also to invite him to go fishing anytime he happened to be in Gainesville. He had sorta taken a liking to Shultzy in the last couple of days.

Charlie had a question or two, "How did you know that the maid was professor Hormuz? And how did you figure Steve for the Iranian, Josef?" Bean related his session with Professor Richards and said,

"I knew that Steve was Josef because of the name. He had never had a name except Ghos Gazal, an Iranian word for rainbow, intended as an insult meaning mongrel. So when he took an American name, he chose Steven Paul Ectrum or SPEctrum which is English for all the colors of the rainbow.

"I knew the maid was not a maid by her hands. They were soft and well cared for. She was his lookout and his escape route. That cleaning cart was large enough to conceal Josef and his surgical tools. I'll tell you one thing, Charlie, I wouldn't want to be Fucus or Amarillo, when that woman gets out of jail."

"I'll drink to that," said Shultz. "Fucus said he had family in Sicily who would hide him, and Amarillo said he was going so deep into Mexico they don't even have roads.

"They will be hiding and looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. Give me a call, Jim, when the fish are biting."

Bean went back to the Reno station and checked in with Willie Baker. He asked,

Well Willie, what else can I do for you? How about me taking over Airport Security?"

"No!" Willie answered with a grin, "We've got enough dead bodies for this year. Why don't you take a vacation?"

"Thanks Willie, I think I will. Call Wells for me and tell him that you told me to take a vacation, and that I went to Detroit. I'll see him in two weeks." Bean turned and left before Willie had a chance to answer.

There was a night game, so that same evening, James Bean was sitting in Tiger Stadium with a Stroh's beer and a foot-long hotdog, watching the Tigers and the Cubs slug it out.

For the next two weeks Bean looked for things as they had been and found, as he knew he would, you can never go back. The good things remain only in your memories and not in the places where where you found them.

At the end of two weeks he landed at Reno, looking forward with anticipation to returning home to Gainesville. He felt he belonged more to Lake Squiggly and had more family in Ollie and Harriet than anything he had left behind in Michigan.

During the following months Bean and Shultz kept in touch either by an occasional letter or phone call. Several times when Bean was helping out in Reno, he would stay at Shultz's house. They would watch the ball-games and fights on TV, and Bean would end up sleeping on Charlie's couch.

Bean knew it was against the rules, but because Charlie was just getting started in his Private Detective business, Bean would at times use the Reno Police's computer network to gather data for Charlie. He figured it was only fair. Charlie had done a lot of work to help Bean crack the last case.

The timing finally worked out so Charlie could come to Lake Squiggly for a fishing trip on April first...

Bean and Charlie Shultz were finally fishing. They had been planning this fishing trip since June of 1988, and today was the First of April, 1989. Bean had long since commented on the possibility of the two of them being the only "April Fools" on the lake. Needless to say, they had been doing a whole lot of fishing, beer drinking, and reminiscing and very little catching, eating, or rowing the boat.

Bean, thinking back, had grown to like Charlie Shultz, while trying to solve the murder case in Reno last year. He emptied his can of beer, burped when he leaned over to open another, and asked,

"Well Charlie, any regrets about leaving that flea-bag of a hotel? Do you miss peeking through all those keyholes?"

After The case was closed, it had been Bean's suggestion that Charlie quit the job at the hotel and open his own private investigations agency and home security consultant service.

The business was doing well, and he told Bean if it continued doing well, he would be eternally grateful; and if it went broke, he would just move in with Bean cause it was all his idea.

Charlie grinned and answered, "None at all, Jimbo. You'd a thought that I committed those murders -- the way those bastards treated me, after you left. Besides that, I was getting too fat to be bending over to look through those keyholes. I just wasn't cut out for that job."

They laughed and then Bean grew more serious, "Charlie, sometimes I wonder if maybe, I'm not in the wrong job. So far with a few minor exceptions, every case that I've worked on has gone wrong.

"My first was a complete fiasco. The killer tricked me into killing him and his intended victim, and I was caught literally and figuratively with my pants down.

"My second dealt with two young people, deeply in love, who killed a cruel and obnoxious husband. They created what appeared to be a mountain of circumstantial evidence that indicated the husband had killed the young wife. The evidence was so overwhelming the husband hung himself rather than spend years in prison. I knew what they had done, but couldn't build a case that would stand a chance in court, so I just let it go. But Charlie, I was glad that they got away with it. That's worrying me -- I'm not supposed to take sides.

"And the case last year in Reno. That young man and his aunt killing off those guys who raped his mother and eventually drove her to suicide. I know there is no excuse for what he did, but deep down inside I was sorta hoping the last two would get their's, but not in my territory. You know what I mean, Charlie?"

Shultz cleared his throat, took the stub of cigar from between his yellow teeth and growled, "Shit, Jamie Boy, you'll drive yerself nuts worrying about stuff like that.

"I spent thirty years as a harness bull before I retired and got that hotel security job, and I've seen a lot of guys crack up under the job.

"Trying to separate good guys from bad guys, right from wrong, and trying to figure out why the victims get the shaft and the crooks walk free. To tell ya the truth, the only way I made it was by just eating, sleeping, and punching my time clock. Telling myself that them weren't people I was dealing with -- just animals inna zoo.

"I think, Jimbo, what you need is three things:
the first is a case with honest to goodness real mean crooks to arrest, the second is maybe a steady girl friend so you keep from getting involved with your customers, and the third is to reel in the fish that has been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes."

He laughed as Bean almost lost his balance trying to reel in the fish, and not spill his beer at the same time.

It was almost dark when the two fishermen with one fish stopped at the Gainesville Police station on their way to Bean's place. Bean said that he wanted to check for messages and Shultz replied that that was exactly what was wrong with Bean, always on duty.

"If they really need you, they'll come and find you or get you on the radio."

"You're probably right, Charlie," Bean grinned agreeably, "but I wouldn't feel right about it if I didn't stop and check anyway."

As it turned out, Gerttie, the all purpose clerk, typist, dispatcher, and PBX operator was still working. She was finishing up some reports. In answer to Bean's unspoken question, she shook her head in the negative and said, "Nope, Mister `always on duty Bean', nothin's been happening around here, but I guess all Hells a poppin up in Reno.

"Somebody's done kidnapped Old Willie Baker, the Police Chief. It's on the TV."