They met Tuesday morning at the Reno Airport and flew to Portland in the Senator's private jet. It was a short ride in a taxi to the Kingston Building.

Rudy used the phone in the lobby, and then he and Bean entered the elevator to the penthouse, where Julius Kingston was waiting. He started to greet Rudy, but stopped and looked at Bean in surprise.

"You didn't think I would be foolish enough to come up here alone, did you?" asked Rudy.

"No," replied Kingston, "but I sure as Hell wasn't expecting to see you bring `Old Beano' along. Maybe it's for the best though, It'll add credence to my story."

Bean felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach. There was only one person who had ever called him `Beano' and it sure as Hell wasn't this guy.

"Beano -- Senator Clanton, please sit down and make your Self comfortable. I have some good news and an incredible story to tell you. Have a drink, relax, listen, and please don't interrupt until I'm finished. My name is really Brad Grimes, and up until last week my job was personal bodyguard and chauffeur for Mr. Julius Kingston of Global Power Inc.

"You may not believe this story, but for the most part, as you can see, it's straight from the horses mouth.

Bean interrupted, "You're not Brad Grimes. Believe me, I know -- I served with Brad in Vietnam..."

"Beano, shut up and listen. When I'm done you'll understand, and we'll talk over old times, Okay?"

"Now once again,

"This Julius Kingston was always a planner. In high school, he plotted, schemed, and used people to achieve his goals. He knew even then, as his namesake, Julius Caesar had conquered the world with his armies; he, Julius Kingston, would conquer the world with his brain.

"The family business was profitable but dull. The Kingston Lumber Company owned half of the timberland in Oregon and was of very little interest to Julius; except, that it was to furnish adequate venture capital to finance his plan.

When Julius went away to Stanford University, he appeared to have completely changed from the manipulative pushy kid into Mister Nice Guy. The kind of friendly sympathetic friend you could tell your troubles and innermost secrets.

"Two years at Stanford then off for Harvard and the center of the Ivy League culture. He compiled a list of all of the rising young stars in academia. Anyone showing real promise in the fields of law, business, or political science made the list.

"The list was then turned over to a very discreet firm of private investigators; and by the time Julius was ready for graduation, he had dossiers on most of the " soon to be " powerhouses in the business, political, and legal world.

"Soon after graduation, Julius discovered with the help of his information gathering network, that if he could not uncover some corruption in someone's past, It was quite simple to corrupt them in the present. They each had their own weakness, and Julius was more than happy to pander to their desires and record every moan and groan. It wasn't long before he owned and controlled more than half of our elected representatives in Washington."

"Now that phase one of the plan was complete, it was time for phase two. So like the dutiful son that he was, he returned home, and to his fathers joy he expressed interest and desire to take an active roll in running the family business.

"During the next six years, Julius did nothing but run an ever increasing portion of the business and in doing so acquired some practical skills that only involvement can develop.

"As far as the world knows, It was a stroke that finally liberated Julius from his Self imposed prison. His father had died quietly in his sleep, and half the state turned out for the funeral. He had been well liked and even more important, half the state received their livelihood from the Kingston Lumber Corp. The whole state was in a state of nervous expectation waiting and wondering what the kid Julius was going to do?

"They were not kept waiting long. Kingston senior had hardly assumed room temperature before Julius consummated a deal selling the mills, the rolling stock, the equipment, and the next eighty years of timber futures to the Japanese.

"Details were not disclosed, but rumor had it that Julius had received more than eight billion and forty percent of the stock in Global Power and Higatchi Computer Corp.

"There was state-wide outrage at the news, speculation as to how he could have put together a deal of this magnitude in such a short period of time with no prior knowledge of his fathers impending heart attack. Threats were made, the death reinvestigated, and desperation legal counter-measures were tried to no avail. Julius emerged triumphant. He had indeed planned well. This is where I entered the picture.

"I had recently returned to the states, after six years of service as a mercenary in Central America. It was the the only trade I had, but I always contracted out to fight against the fascists and tyrants crushing the people into the dust.

"Because of my attitude and some of my exploits, I had been written up in the local papers and made several appearances on local TV. One evening, after a benefit appearance to raise funds for the Contras, I was met by a well dressed older man and told that Mister Julius Kingston wanted to meet me and discuss some very important business with me.

"Could I come and see him as soon as possible? Thinking that Kingston probably wanted to financially aid the Contras. I agreed to a meeting the next morning at ten.

"Precisely at ten, the next morning a driver arrived to take me to the meeting. As the limousine passed through the gates, I couldn't help noticing the heavy security and the obvious presence of many armed guards. Escorted into the house and into a secluded breakfast nook, I found my Self suddenly alone with a man who identified his Self as Julius Kingston. He asked if I wanted any breakfast?

"I, answered, 'Yeah, I could use some.' So while he was ordering breakfast over the intercom, I started planning my strategy for separating him from a nice healthy donation. I was totally unprepared for his plans for me.

"His only comment at the time was, 'Relax Brad! breakfast first, then business. Mine first, then yours, cause I'm the host.' Then he smiled like a little boy.

"After breakfast, Kingston smiled, put his finger to his lips for silence, and proceeded to tell me his whole damn life story. He outlined his plan, his blackmail empire, and what he had done to the people of Oregon."

"He hinted as to the real cause of his fathers death, he joked about the hundreds of death threats that he had received, and what his future plans were ... To take over and control all of the power generated and used on the planet.

"By the time he was finished, I hated him enough to have killed him on the spot. I guess my face had been getting more flushed by the minute because he suddenly stopped talking.

"I jumped to my feet and said, 'I came here to do some business with you; but now, you slimy bastard, I don't want anything to do with you. I better get out of here before I do something I'll get in trouble over. And you're not worth it.'

"Once again he put his finger to his lips and smiled like a little boy saying, 'It's not your turn yet, you're not playing the game right, sit down and listen -- you'll be glad you did.' Well I was so shocked and caught off balance that I did just that. I sat down red faced with my mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Kingston stood up and said, 'I'm sure that you saw all the armed security guards surrounding me, when you arrived. You'll be surprised to know that they don't work for me. They work for all those congressmen and business executives whose careers totally depend upon my silence.

'The evidence is hidden all over the world. Should something happen to me, it would all be published within twenty-four hours. So you see they just can't afford for anything to happen to me."

Alarm bells started going off in Jim Bean's head. This was just too much of a coincidence. Half the politicians in six major cities and several highly placed government employees were depending on his silence for their continued freedom.

He knew that they were desperately trying to figure out some way to find out where he hide hidden the evidence, and would try just about anything to find it. He decided to just keep quiet and go along with the situation; as Kingston continued his story.

"I guess my face was revealing my understanding of the situation, and the terrible danger to so many people because he paused -- when reassured by whatever he saw in my face -- Kingston continued,

'Brad, I brought you here, because of what you are, what you have done, and what you are capable of doing. You're the kinda guy that just has to protect people against disaster, poverty, and oppression. I'm gambling that your `built-in' hero complex is going to force you to do everything humanly possible to keep me alive.

'These other security guards are just doing a job. If they knew why, they would be far more dedicated, but they don't; and their bosses can't afford to let them know why.

'I'm not worried about any of my enemies or the people that I blackmail killing me. They know better. What I need you for is to keep some poor slob of a logger, who lost his job or home because of my way of doing business, from going off his rocker and using me for target practice. If he got lucky, it would mess up this world as you know it.

'I'll pay you a hundred thousand a year, but you will have to be my full time companion, chauffeur, and bodyguard. And Oh yes, I'll give you a donation for those Contras of yours. A million dollars will buy a lotta bullets -- what do you think?'"

"He walked to the door, turning back he said, 'Don't answer yet, think awhile, and I'll be back for your answer in ten minutes.' one more boyish grin and he left.

"As I sat there with my mind racing this way and that, like a well hooked trout, I quickly came to the conclusion; I was exactly that! `Well hooked.' I couldn't kill him, I couldn't let anyone else kill him, and the only way I could defeat him was to remain close enough to him to find the blackmail evidence and destroy it. That meant I had to accept his offer and go to work for him. I had to admit his fishing skills were almost as good as his chess.

"When he returned, I just threw up my hands and said, 'You win! Kingston, when do I start?'

"He smiled and said, 'Just as soon as you pick up all the personal items and equipment that you would like to bring with you.' He added, 'This afternoon would be fine, and when you go -- you drive.'

'Let the driver check you out on the controls, security system, and armament that is installed in the limousine. You will be my driver after today.'

"Needless to say, everything was accomplished efficiently and with a minimum of publicity. I soon fell into the routine of being his constant companion and on several occasions; I saved his rotten ass from getting it's just desserts from ruined mill owners and one berserk ex- employee who had been laid off one month prior to his twenty year retirement party.

"Weeks melted into months, and I still had no clue where he kept his evidence cached.

"He knew that I was looking for a way to destroy him. I'm sure he was aware that I watched him constantly. He probably even knew what I was looking for. I would catch him looking at me with an amused superior look on his face. Enjoying every minute of playing cat and mouse with what he considered a very dull mouse.

"When he retired at night, he would go into a small locked vault where he had his Higatchi Computers set up and connected to a secret global network. He would work for an hour or two, come out, and lock the vault. He saw me watching one night and said the system was password protected and would report any unauthorized entry attempts. Then I knew that somewhere in that data base, the location of the evidence was hidden.

"Kingston used this forty-five story building for most of his business meetings because of the penthouse with the heliopad and the excellent security that was installed. Some was original and some had been installed at my direction.

"A mouse couldn't get into the penthouse without being under constant surveillance and running a gamut of lasers, gas dispensers, and electrically charged barriers.

"On the day that it all happened, Kingston had a meeting set up between his Self, and the head of his staff of attorneys, William Gill. And of course, there was my Self and a waiter to serve lunch.

"Kingston told me en route that he was going to break tradition just to throw Old B.G. off balance. Instead of eat then talk; he was going to insist on talk, then eat, then talk some more. He said it was a little thing, but little things like that were what kept him in the drivers seat in business.

"When Kingston started the meeting by immediately starting to outline the most incredible scheme I have ever heard. I could tell that William Gill was likewise effected. His eyes went glassy and facial muscles twitched, but he did not interrupt."

"Kingston's opening words were,

'Gill, I'm going to corner the global market on power. I'm going to build a Thermal Nuclear reactor based on the hydrogen-helium-lithium, controlled chain-reaction principle.

'Furthermore, I'm going to use the energy of our active volcano, Mount Saint Helen as a core.

'I need you to obtain some proxies for me, and I don't care how you get them. I can handle the local and federal politicians, but I need you and your legal eagles to keep the law off my ass. Stall them in court for two hundred years if you have to, but stall them.

'Now eat your lunch, and when we are through with lunch, I'll expect an outline from you on how you propose to protect me from all the chicken littles, environmental wackos, and assorted kooks who will try to stop me.'"

"Gill leaned back in his chair, made a little tent with his fingers, and boomed out in a deep voice that didn't match his body,

'Kingston, I don't think you will need lunch after you hear what I have to say!'"

"I looked at Kingston and it looked like he was struggling to speak and couldn't. I tried to rise to go to his aid and found that suddenly, I couldn't move a muscle. The waiter was bent over frozen in the act of serving.

"Gill continued, 'Now that I have your attention, I'll explain. The first thing you must understand is -- I am not Gill. I am speaking to you through his body. He's in here with me, and when I leave, he can have this worn out, fat, wheezing carcass back.

'Your biblical historians called me a `Fallen Angel'. There are several of us, `Fallen Angels' still on the surface of this miserable planet.

'We are the originators of Self, the controllers of Self, and the guardians of HIS Plan. Long ago humans were created, not in God's image, but in our image. God has no conceivable image. He just creates and plans.

'One day, He said, "It's part of my plan that you Angels go down there and perpetuate your Selfs." And so we gave of our Selfs to the humans down here on earth. We gave them Self to do with as they wished -- as long as they did not endanger HIS Plan.

'They could respect their Self, abuse their Self, control their Self, or they could even be Self destructive. We gave it to them, and they passed it on like seed.

'Not all seed is good seed, so part of our job is Weeding. To illustrate my point, this waiter is bad seed. He is a child molester, he has no Self control, low Self esteem, and is Self destructive.'"

"Gill waved his hand and the waiter walked to the edge of the terrace, climbed up on the ledge, and calmly jumped to the street below.

"Gill waved again and to my horror, I got up and walked to the ledge, stopped, and turned facing the two men who were still seated.

"Gill spoke again, 'Brad -- Kingston is sitting here thinking he still holds all the aces in this game because of the impact his death would create. If you could trade places with him, would you dedicate your Self to straightening out this mess?'

"I didn't have to think long to answer that one. There was a moment of vertigo, and suddenly I was sitting at the table with Gill watching poor old Brad Grimes step backwards off the ledge."

"Gill's last words to me were that he had left enough of Kingston's memories intact in Kingston's body, so I could find all of the blackmail evidence and dispose of it properly.

"And so Senator, here is your package. It's all there files, photos, and negatives. You have your life back and do try to take better care of your Self."

He smiled sadly, looked at Bean and said softly,

"Beano, Beano, you've still got that sceptical look in your eyes. I guess I'll have to convince you. I tried to find you after I heard about your wife, Meling, getting blown up in that village, but you were on a patrol. Then when you got caught in that crossfire and got your ass shot off, by the time I located the hospital you were in; they shipped you back home.

"Jimbo -- Meling isn't dead. She was visiting her uncle when the village was bombed. She couldn't locate you and the last I heard of her, the whole family was moving to Cambodia." He paused as Detective James Bean buried his head in his hands and started crying like a baby.

Later after the Senator had left, Brad and Jim talked over old times. Brad discussed what he intended doing as Julius Kingston, to set things right for a lot of people.

He offered to finance a trip to Cambodia, if Jim wanted to go back and start to search for Meling. Jim thanked him and told him about his terrible blinding headaches, which were getting more severe all the time. He said he would take a rain-check on the offer until he was in better shape.

As Bean was leaving, Brad laughingly told Bean that if things got too bad, to come on back. He said that maybe Gill would find him, a new body too.

Bean's headaches had gotten progressively worse. At first, they had been diagnosed as migraine by the medics in L.A.. Then when he didn't respond to treatment they changed the diagnosis to stress related -- sorta psycho-somatic as in battle fatigue. They played a major role in his decision to leave the L.A.P.D. and take a nice quiet job in Gainesville.

However, his duty in Gainesville had been far from quiet. His role as a law enforcement officer had been stretched to the limit, and his state of mind was indeed chaotic.

This last trip with Senator Clanton to Portland, Oregon was the final `Straw that broke the Camel's hump.' Finding his old buddy, Brad and learning that his wife was alive wasn't what was so unbelievable -- it was that Brad was wearing someone else's body!

Brad's story about some Fallen Angel, named Gill, giving him the body of Julius Kingston, 'cause Kingston was a bad guy and needed to be replaced, had been mind shattering.

On returning to Gainesville, Bean requested a couple of weeks off. He'd made up his mind to go to the Doctor about his headaches; and besides that, he needed to get away from everything, so he could do some thinking.

He told Bob Wells he wanted to go up to Hickory Dickory Dock and do nothing, but fish and play checkers with Ollie for the next two weeks. Wells told him to go ahead, he had earned a rest.

Bean drove to his place to pack some clothes and toilet gear for an extended stay up at Lake Squiggly. He dialed Ollie's number, and when Ollie answered, he said,

"Hey Ollie, it's me, Bean, have you got an empty trailer for me? This place and the job is driving me nuts. So I thought that I'd come up there and drive you nuts for a couple of weeks."

"Sure! Jim, I always got room for you. You're the best dish-washer, and worst checker player that I ever met. When do ya think you'll get here?"

"'Bout an hour, Ollie. You want me to bring anything from the big city?"

"Bring two T-bones, Jamie, I'm sorta sick of fish; and if you don't mind, bring me the latest Soap Opera Digest."

He told Gerttie he would be up at the lake for the next two weeks, and not to call him unless it was a real emergency. As he walked out, she yelled after him,

"Don't forget to get your Doctor's appointment! He'd forget his head if it weren't hooked on." She mumbled, as Bean waved and walked out into the parking lot.

He drove to the Gainesville Memorial Hospital, pulled into a police parking space, and went into the business office. He waited until the heavy-set nurse sitting at the desk got off the phone and then he said,

"I'm Detective James Bean, and I'm here to confirm my appointment for a Catscan. I think I'm supposed to get it sometime next week." She checked her chart,

"You are scheduled for Monday at 9;00 A.M.. The Doctor's coming in from Las Vegas, so don't be late and don't eat anything after five o'clock Sunday afternoon!"

He drove to his apartment and gathered up about two weeks worth of clean socks, underwear, and changes of clothing. After making sure that everything was turned off, he packed his gear in the trunk of his car, did some shopping at the local super-market, and was on his way in less than an hour.

As he drove North toward Lake Squiggly, his thoughts were interrupted by three bus loads of screaming waving children passing him on their way to the Christian Children's Summer Camp.

"Thank God, it's located way over on the other side of the lake." He shuddered at the thought of trying to get in some quiet fishing and relaxation, with all those house apes screaming and churning the water to a froth with their play.

When he arrived at Hickory Dickory Dock, he checked in with Ollie, gave him his Soap Opera Digest and the two steaks, and then went to get unpacked and settled in at his trailer.

It was a comfortable looking trailer, rustic brown on the outside with green trim. It was surrounded by eight tall pines, so there was plenty of shade morning, noon, and late afternoon. The only opening supplied a magnificent view of the lake to the north, and as Bean sat on his porch, cold beer in hand; He could hear the happy-excited cries of the kids from across the lake, as they, too, settled in at the camp.

He shook his head in amazement, wondering if he had ever been that young and carefree? He strolled down to Ollie's concession stand and restaurant.

He stuck his head in the counter window and yelled,

"Hey Ollie, what's for dinner?" He heard a mumble from inside, so he yelled a little louder -- "Ollie! What are we eating for dinner?"

Ollie had evidently come up front since the first yell because he bellowed out from about a foot away, "Nothin, ya damn fool, unless you cook it. I sprained my ankle and can't get around real good -- and why'n Hell are we yellin?"

"Why Hell Ollie, I thought you had gone deaf, sorry bout your ankle. How did you do it? Are you sure you have an apron my size?"

"I'm not deaf, I tried to ride a cow, don't ask, and I have several aprons just your size. You didn't think you were gonna come up here and fish in my lake for free did you?

"Seriously Jamie, I would appreciate it if you could give me a helping hand around here, until my sister arrives. She and her husband and their nine year old daughter are coming up from San Diego. She wants to help, he wants to fish, and the little girl, Linda, wants to go to that summer camp across the lake. They'll be here Monday, so if you could help out this weekend; then, they could take over Monday, Ok?"

"No problem Ollie, now where is that apron? I'm hungry.

"First there is the small problem of bringing in and locking up all the anchors, motors, and batteries. If we don't, they'll be gone in the morning. Then, you run the chain through all the prow loops of the boats and padlock the chain to the dock. Then, we'll talk about eating."

Bean grinned, saluted, and with an, "Aye Aye Captin Blye," he went out on the dock to earn his supper. It was sorta nice having something physical to do, and there was something restful about the evening shadows of the pine trees on the water, the sound of the children singing from across the lake, and the occasional splash of a fish in search of his evening meal.

Bean finished his chores and went back inside where Ollie was doing some very aromatic things to two large steaks. He had set the table, somehow, and had salads ready. He was just finishing the steaks. Bean knew Ollie must have been watching in order to time the steaks to his arrival.

"God! Ollie, those smell good," he said. "I was gonna do them when I finished out on the dock. Oh, by the way, how many boats are you supposed to have? I had an empty spot when I got done."

"Those steaks looked too good to let you cremate them, and besides this stool has rollers, so I get around in here Ok. It's outside on the dock that I can't navigate. I've got twenty boats, why?"

"Well, you've only got nineteen now. I noticed an empty space when I ran the chain. After dinner, I'll take a look. Maybe one of them drifted away, I noticed a little breeze when I was out there."

Bean sat down and in no time, the only thing remaining on his plate was a bare bone, roughly shaped in the form of a `T'. He washed down the last swallow with a cup of Ollie's strong black coffee, burped, and said,

"Don't be doing the dishes, I'll clean up after I find that missing boat." He opened a cold beer, and flashlight in hand headed East along the bank in the same direction the wind had been blowing.

After a half hour of searching, it was much too dark to see anything; and even with the flashlight, he kept tripping over hidden roots and branches, so he gave up and returned to the dock.

"Ollie, I didn't see that boat East of here," Bean explained. "I'll take a boat out in the morning, find it, and tow it back in. It's too damn dark out there now." He rolled up his sleeves, put on an apron, and made short work of cleaning up the little restaurant area.

Two more beers and three games of checkers with Ollie was more than enough to prepare James Bean for eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. He awoke rested, but with that ever present headache. He took two pain pills, and reminded himself that Monday he was scheduled for one of those new Catscans.

"Maybe then, someone could find out what was causing them," he thought. He knew that they were getting worse, and was nervous about the cause.

He dressed and hurried down to the dock. It being Saturday morning, he knew he had to get the boats ready for the week-end fishermen, rented to the early risers, and all the paperwork done; before he could expect any breakfast from friend Ollie.

Sure enough, when he opened the boat rental office, there were six groups waiting impatiently to get on the water.

He sold them their bait, got the rental information from their driver's licences, and had them out on the lake in short order. In the meantime Ollie was happily cooking breakfast for three more groups.

Business was so brisk Bean didn't get breakfast until shortly after eight o'clock. He said to Ollie, "I think I'll look for that missing boat now unless you've got something else you want done."

"No, go ahead. My ankle is feeling better today. I'll clean up while your gone. Better take one with a motor though, or you'll be gone all day -- and take a tow rope."

"Yes Mother," teased Bean, "and I'll take gasoline and wear my water-wings, bye."

The boat was readied, and he was just giving the starter rope the first pull, when one of the early groups pulled up to the dock. A short, slightly chubby man about fifty climbed out of the boat looking so ill, Bean instinctively started to his aid.

"What the matter are you sick? Do you need a doctor? Are you having trouble breathing?" The man shook his head and sat down on the dock.

"Oh God, it was horrible! Get the police, Mister call the cops, quick." Bean interrupted,

"I am the police, what was horrible? You're going to have to calm down and tell me what you saw. Then maybe, I can help You." He showed the man his identification.

The man's mouth opened and closed silently a couple of times and then came the sound,

"In a boat, up at the East end of the lake. A little girl, she's been murdered. It was horrible, blood everywhere, no clothes, and she was so little!" The voice choked off, and the man started to sob uncontrollably.