Bean told the rest of his group to tie up the boat and bring the man sitting on the dock into the restaurant, where he could drink some coffee and calm down a little. He cautioned them that they might have to stay, until he returned from the East end of the lake, if the coroner arrived before he was through taking their statements.

He said, "I'm going to phone this in, then I'll be back to take your statements." Then he went in and told Ollie what was happening.

He said, "Ollie, while I'm on the phone trying to find the coroner and get a hearse out here, I'd appreciate your getting their names, addresses, and the license number of their car, just in case they decide to not wait for my return." Then he called Gainesville and told Gerttie at the station to send up Phil Martin and the Coroner and for them to be prepared to investigate a murder scene. He said to come up to Hickory Dickory Dock and come in the hearse not in a police car.

Gerttie replied, "James Bean, If you don't beat all!" "Here we send you up to the lake to rest and get well, and the very first day, you go and dig yourself up a murder. What happened were you getting bored already?"

"No Gerttie," he reassured her, "I sure as Hell didn't go looking for something like this. I haven't seen the victim yet, but I understand that it was a little girl. I'm not looking forward to examining the bloody remains of some poor little kid." The line was very quiet, and he hung up knowing that there would be no reply.

He sat at the table where the Chubby man and his party were talking to Ollie. Ollie introduced the chubby guy as Mort Sills from nearby Millertown. The others in the party were Mort's brother in law, Jim Ferguson, and his son Charles Sills. Bean acknowledged the introductions and said,

"Now that you folks have had a chance to calm down a little, which one of you would like to be the one to tell me exactly what you saw?" They looked at each other and seemingly by common consent, Jim Ferguson started talking,

"I was sitting in the front of the boat, Charlie was in the middle and Mort was driving. We were trolling real slow for bass when we spotted this boat over in the weeds. It looked empty, and we decided to check it out, so Mort chugged up alongside, and I grabbed the side of the other boat.

"The boat looked empty, no oars or anything, only a piece of tarp laying in the bottom. I reached in and lifted the tarp and then's when I saw her."

"The poor little thing hardly made a bump in the tarp. I musta screamed or something 'cause both of these guys stood up rocking the boat, and that pulled the tarp all the way off her."

"Then Mort went outa his head, I don't blame him cause she looked awful, all naked and bloody. Anyway, Mort threw it into reverse and hightailed it back here, and you know the rest." Bean thanked him and turned to Mort,

"Is that the way you remember it, Mort?" Mort could only nod his head and then kept looking into his coffee cup. Bean checked with Ollie, confirming that Ollie had all the information. He told them they could go home, if they wanted to.

The Sills with Ferguson driving were just leaving the parking lot, as the hearse pulled in. The driver was Phil Martin, and he was accompanied by Roy Aames, the County Coroner. Bean met them in the parking lot and to the obviously fuming Aames, he spoke,

"We're real sorry to ruin your Saturday, Roy, but there is a poor little girl, who will never see another Saturday, awaiting your services. Just do your job and forget about your golf date, I'm not in the mood for your bitching."

Aames tried to look more pleasant, grabbed his satchel, and said, "Lead me to the body, let's get this over with."

Bean took the bag, grinned wickedly, and said, "You are going to need much more gear than this, the body is in a small boat out in the lake. You and Phil are going to do a complete forensic examination of the boat, the body, and the lake bottom under the boat. Then I'll tow you, Phil, and the body back here to the dock.

"Then after you, Phil, and I tape off the shore-line in the vicinity of the boat and thoroughly examine that area for clues -- you, Phil, and hearse may take the body back to town." He helped Phil unload the rest of the gear from the hearse, pretending not to hear the muttered obscenities coming from the good Doctor Aames.

Phil Martin was chuckling under his breath and whispered to Bean, "Give it to him, Jim, He's a real pain. I had to listen to his bitchen, all the way out here."

They loaded up the boat and headed for the East end of the lake. There was a foot path all around the lake, but the only vehicle access was directly in from the highway to each facility. One leading into this dock, one into the public marina, and one into the Christian Camp for Children across the lake.

When they got to the boat adrift in the weeds, the flies had settled in. Not only was the child a heart wrenching sight but the flies added an aspect of indignity to the scene. Phil Martin said it all, when he said,

"Christ Jim, what kind of animal could have done something like this?"

Even Aames was shocked into silence. Bean was mentally wincing, but as usual he was outwardly calm. He said to the Doctor and Phil,

"One person has touched the rail of the boat and the corner of the tarp. To my knowledge, no one else has touched the boat. Check out everything you can reach from this boat very carefully before you go onboard that boat. I don't want you to miss one pubic hair, or drop of blood that might have come from that animal."

He slipped out of his clothes and into the water. He swam very slowly back and forth under the boat, examining every square inch of bottom. He was careful not to disturb the muddy bottom. Then he swam in ever widening circles until he was satisfied that the bottom held nothing.

He swam back to the boat to check progress, and Phil said they were almost through with what they could do in the boat. Next in line was some extensive lab. work. He took his shoes and some yellow police tape and kicked his way to shore. From what he had noticed on the boat, he decided the shore search could wait till later, so he just taped off the area and returned to the boat for the return trip to the dock.

He said to Phil, "Have you taken any pictures of the crime scene?"

"Sure did, from every angle, but I'd hate like Hell, to have to show them to her parents."

"Take a couple of close-ups of her face Phil, We're going to have to show them around. Maybe, someone can identify her."

Bean climbed into the boat with the body, reached down, and pulled up a rope that was tied to the prow loop. He untied the rope and asked Phil to toss him the tow rope they had brought along.

"Why don't you use the one you have in your hand?" asked Phil, as he tossed Bean the tow rope.

"Well Phil, it's the only piece of evidence we have so far. Ollie's boats don't have pieces of rope in them, the anchors have chains, and they are chained at night through the prow loops.

"The murderer must have tied the boat somewhere else with this rope, and the wind last night jerked it free to drift all night. I think the murderer was looking for this boat last night -- a lot more frantically than I was."

It was almost four in the afternoon when they got back to the dock. Phil and Doctor Aames loaded the hearse and just before they left for Gainesville, Bean asked Phil to be sure to be back early Sunday morning. He told him to bring the pictures of the close-ups and a list of any recently missing children off the teletype. Phil said he'd do his best and away they went.

Bean went back inside; although, he didn't feel much like eating, he knew that he must. He said to Ollie,

"I'll be checking in the boats and stowing gear away, so it sure would be nice if you'd rustle up a couple of hamburgers and yell when they're ready.

"We still got that wind from the West, so I'll be out on the lake most of the night. Four or five drifts should give me a pretty good idea where that boat drifted from, to have ended up in the weeds where we found it."

"Good idea," said Ollie, "as curved as the shore-line is, it couldn't have started here cause it would have run aground right over there about three hundred yards.

"I'll bang on my washtub when the burgers are done."

Bean thanked him and returned to the dock to finish checking in the rentals and putting the boat-motors and batteries away. By the time all the boats were checked in, and the one he had selected to use was serviced and ready to go, Ollie was beating loudly on his old washtub. Bean washed his hands in the fish cleaning trough and noticed Ollie's prized bone-handled fish-knife in the bottom of the trough. He picked it up and when he went inside, he said,

"Hey Ollie, here's your fish knife. You musta left it last time you were cleaning fish. That's too gooda knife to leave laying around."

"Yeah, I made more money cleaning fish today than I did selling food. I guess I forgot it in all the excitement. Lucky someone didn't take it, though. Thank ya, Jamie."

While Bean was eating his burgers and finishing his beer, Ollie packed him two ham and cheese sandwiches, four cans of beer, and put them into a small ice-chest. He said,

"If yer gonna be drifting all over the lake all night, you better take some provisions along. Just in case ya get shipwrecked." He laughed at his own joke, turned on his TV and settled in for the evening, no checkers tonight.

Bean grabbed a large floating lantern type of flashlight, his ice-chest and his sleeping bag. He put everything into the boat and headed out into the lake.

He brought the sleeping bag, so that he could lie in the bottom of the boat. He knew if he sat up, the boat would present a different profile, and that could effect the drift pattern.

When he was out about one hundred yards he cut the motor and started his first drift.

Lake Squiggly was about four hundred yards across and was almost three miles long. The shore-line was so curved that if you walked the waters edge, it measured twelve miles around. It had been designed to provide maximum shore fishing capacity and to provide wind-breaks. In effect, it was a series of coves lined by tall pines.

Hickory Dickory Dock was located in a cove on the South shore and The Christian Children's Camp was directly across on a point on the North Shore. There were two points and two coves East of the boat dock and one point and two coves East of the camp. The body had been found in the far Easterly cove on the South shore.

Bean's first and second drift ended when his boat grounded on the first point to the East. The third drift missed that point, but ended on the second point still one whole cove from where the body was found. It was only when he actually started from the boat dock of the Christian Camp that he finally drifted to the spot where the child's body had been discovered.

It was after midnight when he finally locked up his boat, drank his last beer and climbed into bed. He was dog tired and hated the thought of where his investigations would take him in the morning. "God, how I hate this kind of crime!" He thought, "How could anyone rape and murder an innocent little child? And when I bust them, some bleeding heart will have them back on the street in less than two years. Then it'll start all over again. Damn! Damn!"

The next morning, Phil Martin was cheerfully stuffing down a plate of Ollie's ham and eggs when Bean entered.

"Ollie, the boats are all out and the office is locked, I didn't see any more customers in the parking lot. So if you could just make me a scrambled egg sandwich, I'll eat it on the run. I gotta go across the lake to the camp."

"No you don't," said Ollie, as he pulled a big plate of ham and eggs out of his oven. "I been keeping this warm for you. Yer gonna sit down and eat it or wear it, yer choice!"

"Ok, don't get mad. I'll eat it, looks good and smells good, probably is ... Phil, did you bring those missing children reports?"

"Sure did, Jim, it's here on this milk carton. We have no missing children around Gainesville, and this milk carton came from Reno. The kid has been missing for six months. Oh yes, he's a boy."

"That sorta narrows it down," Bean stated looking worried, "the only place that boat could have started from is the boat dock over at the camp across the lake. I did the drift twice to make sure, and each time I ended up in those same weeds."

"You think it could be one of those kids from over there?" Asked Phil. Ollie suddenly looked worried also,

"My little niece is supposed to check in over there tomorrow. They're planning on letting her stay at camp for two weeks. We better get this cleaned up in a hurry, Jim."

"We can't find out anything sitting here, so let's go. I'll see you about noon, Ollie." Bean and Phil Martin left the dishes for Ollie and drove around the lake to the camp.

They drove into an empty parking space in front of a large cabin with an office sign nailed to the wall under the window. It also said camp counselor and events coordinator.

"This must be the place," said Bean as they left the car and went through the front door. There was a counter and behind the counter back about eight feet was an elderly woman sitting at a desk.

Her face was red from too much sunshine or maybe moonshine, she was also quite stout and grim looking. The place-card on the desk read, Mrs. J. Tildon.

"Probably, too many years dealing with other people's darlings," Bean thought to himself.

"Excuse me," he started and then noticed that she was wearing ear-phones while she typed. She hadn't even looked up in his direction. He vaulted over the counter landing loudly. "What are you doing?" she spluttered.

"Trying to get your attention," said Bean, "I'm Detective James Bean and this is Officer Phil Martin. We are Gainesville Police officers, and we are investigating the murder of a young girl. Her body was found in a boat quite close to here yesterday morning, so we need to talk to your camp director. Please call him, we'll wait."

"My name is Tildon," she said, still looking a little ruffled, "the Director is Mister Connley, he hasn't arrived at camp yet. He usually doesn't show up until we get all settled in for the summer, then he comes up and runs the camp from his office." Her tone indicated that she didn't think much of her boss.

"Well then, who's second in command?"

"We actually have two," she replied, "for the Boys in the East compound we have Mister Ted English and for the Girls in the West compound we have Miz Helen Tracy. They both have equal authority. But I don't see how The Christian Children's Camp could have anything to do with that poor unfortunate girl?"

"Just get them in here," growled Bean, he was already getting tired of Mrs. Tildon. "And I don't care if they are busy, I want them here now!"

"Well, if you insist," she replied. She flipped a switch on the desk mounted microphone and paged both directors on the outside loudspeakers. Almost instantly the phone started ringing, and when Mrs. Tildon answered, even Bean could hear the angry voices on the other end. Mrs. Tildon puffed up like a turkey and answered, "Well I'm very sorry, but this Detective says he wants you here right now! Do you understand?"

In less than five minutes, both of them came storming in demanding to know -- by what right Bean was pulling them in from their work.

He flashed his badge, introduced himself and Phil, and suggested that if they didn't want to cooperate, they could all take a ride to Gainesville and discuss it at the station. No, they didn't want to go to all that trouble just what did he want?

He told them of the murder and graphically described the scene. He explained that the boat had to have come from the area of their boat dock. He said,

"First, I want some answers from the two of you and then I'll be wanting the camp roster. Then we'll go outside and have a complete roll call. Each child will be matched up with their individual paperwork."

Ted English was the first to speak. He was a tall, skinny, cadaverous-looking man of about fifty. His black eyes were recessed under bushy eyebrows and he didn't have a hair on his head. When he spoke, it was immediately noticeable one of his huge front teeth was solid gold. He said sarcastically,

"I think you're wasting my time and the tax-payers good money having me do a roll call on the boys. If the body was that of a young girl, why waste time counting boys?"

"Mr. English, I'm sure you do not need my help or advise on running a summer camp and I'm damn sure I don't need your help in doing my job. Now just go with Phil and do what your told. Phil, you know what to ask the boys after Teddy here, gets them all counted and lined up." Bean watched them leave the room before turning to the woman.

"Now, Ms. Helen Tracy, if you have any questions similar to Teddy's, I suggest you just forget them. I'm here to do a job. There's been a brutal crime committed, and the sooner we finish here -- the sooner I can get on to other areas of the investigation." He studied her as she stood there biting her lip to keep from making an angry comment.

She was large for a woman who only stood about five foot two or three. She had walked in with an athletic stride and her arms were more muscled than Bean's. Her eyes were brown and bulged slightly and her hair was brown and cut shorter than most men's. And she looked absolutely furious.

As they left the office and headed for the West compound, Bean thought to himself that he wouldn't want her around any of his little girls, or maybe even any of his big girls. When they arrived at the compound, Helen Tracy turned and said,

"Please have the decency to wait on the porch while I notify the girls and get the roster. The girls are not always fully dressed, and neither men nor boys are allowed inside the compound."

"Sounds like a helluva good idea to me," said Bean. He found himself being intentionally coarse, just to get her goat. He took a seat on a bench and gazed out over the lake thoughtfully, while he waited. He could see Ollie's dock from where he sat, and he could hear excited screams from the young females inside.

"A man on our porch," " A policeman!" "What does he want?" "Is he cute -- how old is he?" By the time they started lining up in front of the building, Bean's ears were turning red, and he took a little stroll off the porch to regroup.

Helen Tracy handed him the roster, blew a mighty blast on her whistle, and yelled,

"Ladies, Ladies, this is Detective James Bean, of the Gainesville Police. He has some questions for you and will take the roll. Your cooperation is required in this affair and it will be appreciated. Your lack of cooperation will be duely noted, and you will be disciplined after he leaves. I trust you all understand me."

Turning to Bean she spoke, "Well, they're all yours, good luck. I'll be at the office if you need me. Tildon needs help with the provisions ordering." She walked swiftly away. Bean turned to look at forty grinning faces and a chorus of whistles.

"Time to put a stop to this, before it starts!" He thought, so he pulled out the pictures of the dead girl and Spoke loudly,

"Girls, I want you to stay in line, and before I take the roll, I want you to look at some pictures. There was a little girl murdered and left in a boat night before last. That boat was tied up right here at your boat dock. Now I want you to tell me if you recognize this girl, or if you have ever seen her before." He slowly walked down the lines of suddenly, quiet children showing each girl the close-up photos of the face of the dead girl.

Each child was eager to see the photo until they saw it, then Bean had difficulty getting them to take the second look to verify if they had ever seen the dead child before. By the time they were finished, none of the girls had verified or acknowledged ever seeing the girl before.

The roll showed all of the girl guests were present and accounted for. Bean asked the now docile children what time curfew was for them, and they replied nine o'clock. Then he asked, off the record, if any of them had been anywhere after nine, where they could have seen the boat dock?

He saw the almost imperceptible glance that was exchanged by four of the older girls. Finally, he asked if any of their rooms or dorms were situated so they could see the dock? He noted to himself that all four were among the affirmative group.

Bean positioned himself to where he was standing close to the four girls and said,

"Ok girls, that's all, you're excused except for you four girls." They stopped in mid-stride then realizing that no one else had stopped; They tried to continue.

"Sorry girls, that's twice that you have ratted on yourselves. I guess I'll just have to arrest you four for obstruction of justice." The four girls stopped, turned, and almost in concert started crying.

"Please Mister, don't take us to jail!"

"Well then stop your lying, tell me what you were doing after curfew, night before last, and what you saw. Were you outside the compound down by the dock?"

The oldest, a chubby redhead with tears streaking her mascara answered,

"No sir, we didn't go outside. Old Dickless Tracy would have us on kitchen duty and in solitary for a week if she caught one of us outside after curfew. We were in our room having a little pot party in the dark. Angie was listening at the door, and I was at the window looking to see if I could spot Old Tracy patrolling the grounds.

"We call her Dickless Tracy because she's always playing detective. Trying to catch one of us with one of the boys or drinking beer or smoking a little dope. We think she gets off on punishing people, she can't hit us cause our parents would sue and her ass would be grass. So she keeps dreaming up all kinds of shitty punishments to keep us in line.

"Anyway, as I was saying I was trying to spot her so she couldn't sneak up on us, and I did see someone down at the dock. It was dark, but the person looked bigger than Tracy -- big wide shoulders. I don't know where he or she went 'cause whoever it was, never came close to this compound. That's all we know, honest Mister."

Bean told them their secret was safe with him, and not to ever try to lie to a policeman again. Then he turned them loose. They waved and ran into the compound like scared rabbits.

Bean met Phil back at the office and exchanged information. The boys were all present and Ted English was respected by the boys. They considered him to be fair, but very strict. He ran the compound like a boot camp for young soldiers. He kept the young men so busy with exercise, games, sports, and individual projects, they had neither the time or energy to get into trouble.

He didn't get along with Tildon or Tracy, the boys said he considered them both ineffective and inefficient.

They had assured Phil that Teddy didn't (you know) "like" boys or girls. Because he had given his life to serving Jesus and that was a full time job.

Bean asked Tildon if he could use the phone. She scowled and handed it to him. When he got Gerttie on the line he asked,

"Hey Gert, has the coroner's report come in yet? Old Doc Aames wasn't in the best of moods last time I talked to him. And have you got any leads on the identity of that poor little girl that we found up here? She wasn't one of the kids from the Christian Camp."

"Nope Jamie, I ain't got nothin on the little girl, but Doc's got somethin for ya. It's sorta technical, but basically it sez the girl weren't murdered. The blood on her wasn't her's, and she had been dead fer about a week. How about that fer a surprise?"

Bean looked at the telephone in his hand in disbelief, shook his head, and said,

"Gerttie, if you're playing games, it ain't funny! If you're not, then this is the most bizarre thing I've ever run across. Why would anyone want to stage a make believe murder? We'll be back there in an hour -- tell Wells I'm cutting my vacation short."

"Jim, this is Bob. Don't bother coming in! If there's no murder, then there is no reason for you to shorten your rest and rehab vacation. You are on vacation, and that's an order. Do you understand?"

Bean meekly answered, "Yes Sir, but if you find out where that body came from would you let me know? Just to satisfy my curiosity." He hung up, and then when he and Phil got to his car, he explained the situation and pleaded with Phil to get him a copy of the coroner's report, and a background check on Tildon, Tracy, English, and Connley.

The return to Ollie's dock was quiet. Each of them busy with speculations which included endless possibilities. Somebody was planning something.

Bean said good-bye to Phil in the parking lot, and after bringing Ollie up to date on the developments, he went down to the boat dock to finish up the evening shift. All the boats except the one in impound had been rented. Ollie reported that since the news of the body had leaked out business was booming.

By the time he had locked up all the boats and gotten rid of the last morbidly curious customer, it was after dark. He dropped by the restaurant where Ollie was getting ready to close. He grabbed a cold beer and a cheese on rye and said,

"Ollie, I'll do the boats in the morning, then I have to go to town. I have a nine o'clock appointment to get one of those Catscans. I gotta find out what is giving me these blinding headaches. I'll check in with you when I get back to make sure that your Sister and family are all settled in, Okay?"

Sure Jim, I sure hope you find out. It's no fun running round with a constant headache all the time. I divorced mine! Ha-Ha." Bean laughed, went home, and took his usual pain pills, so that he could sleep. He slept, but even in his sleep he was bothered ... `Wondering why -- why his boss, Bob Wells, wasn't even curious about where the body came from, where the blood came from, and why anyone would go to all the trouble of staging a fake murder?`

He overslept and awoke with a start. When he remembered where he was and where he was supposed to be; he hurriedly bathed and shaved and rushed directly to the dock. Happily it was open for business. There was a stoop- shouldered, baldheaded man wearing bib-overalls renting out the boats. He waved at Bean, grinned, and said,

"Hi, I'm Orvil, Ollie's brother-in-law, do you want to rent a boat?"

"No, I'm Jim Bean, and I was supposed to open up for Ollie, but I overslept, sorry! I thought that you folks were not coming until today. You must have arrived last night after I went to sleep.

"Yup, after we heard about that body being found in one of Ollie's boats, we figured we better find out what was going on; before we let little Linda enroll at that camp across the lake."

"So your the detective friend that Ollie was telling us about. Have you found out who the bastard was who killed her yet? Someone like that deserves quick justice, if you know what I mean." He paused to spit brown tobacco juice at a large beetle crawling on the dock.

Bean assured him that they were working on the case, but so far they didn't have a murder, a motive, or an identity on the child. He hurried to where the bacon was frying and almost cried when he remembered the Catscan and (No Eating).

He was pleasantly surprised at the hospital when he found that Bob Wells had cleared away a lot of red tape and paperwork. He had reserved the time and the machine, and the Gainesville Police Department was picking up the tab.

Doctor Mike Phillips was older than he looked. At first glance, he looked about twenty-five and with his blonde curly hair and van-dyke beard, he looked more like a hippy from the sixties than a serious doctor. Bean was slightly apprehensive until he looked into those deadly-serious, grey eyes and realized this boy had probably seen as much misery and death as he (Bean) had seen in all his years in the field.

Bean was sitting on the edge of the examination table when the Doctor entered. He read Bean's chart and asked,

"Just how long have you had these headaches and where is the pain centered?"

"I've had the headaches seven years now. L.A. Doctors thought that they were stress related -- `psychosomatic,' they said. That's why I eventually retired from the L.A.P.D. and came to work here in Gainesville. It was supposed to be less stressful, but the headaches kept getting worse." And then he put his finger on the place above his left eye that was even sensitive to the touch.

The Doctor moved his hand aside and explored with gentle, cool fingertips. After a few minutes he said,

"We have a new diagnostic tool called a MRI. It uses magnetic resonance and has given some fantastic results. I'm going to check you out with both a Catscan and a MRI, and when we are done I'll guarantee that we'll know the cause of your headaches. If we fail, then I'll just have to cut your head off and look around inside for myself." He laughed as he left the room.

Bean didn't think the joke was so funny, as he franticly tried to cover his body with the little paper gown, while the nurse wheeled him down the hall to the lab for his Catscan.

Three hours later, after three complete examinations, Doctor Mike wasn't in any joking mood, as he sat across the desk from Bean. Bean could tell something was wrong, and when Mike asked him if he had any family in the immediate area, he knew something was wrong. Doctor Mike started out with,

"James, I'm sorry, but I have some very bad news. The reason that I asked about family is that in my experience the news is more bearable if family members are present.

"You have a very large tumor on your brain, and whether it is malignant or not is not relevant because it is in an area that is inoperable."

"There is no treatment other than medication to alleviate pain. When the pain becomes unbearable, or you go mad from internal pressure -- there are doctors available who will help. Unfortunately, my religion won't allow me to assist you."

Bean sat frozen in shock, his mouth started to open once, twice, then he cried out,

"Are you sure? There has to be some mistake. I'm as healthy as a horse. All I have is a shitty headache, and you tell me that it's going to kill me. Gradually he calmed down then finally, he looked up and said,

"Mike, how much time do I have?

"Could be six months to maybe a year, it all depends on how fast that damn thing grows. You'll know when your running out of time, long before I could diagnose your condition."

"Can you keep this just between you and me? I don't want the Chief putting me out to pasture, just because I'm going to die someday. If I can't work, I'll go crazy. I don't have family or many friends."

"You know I can't do that, Detective Bean, any more than you could suppress evidence in a murder case. I'll tell you what I will do because the diagnostic equipment is new. I'll put in my report what I think the diagnosis is and recommend that you return for another set of tests in two months for confirmation."

"That way you could continue to work for two more months and maybe get your house in order."

Bean thanked him for his consideration and promised to return in two months for another set of tests. The Doctor gave Bean a bottle of pills, he said they were very strong and shouldn't be taken except just before going to bed. He also told Bean to come back to see him personally for a refill. Bean took the medication and drove back to Hickory Dickory Dock.

As he drove, he did a lot of thinking and a lot of soul searching. By the time he pulled into the parking lot, he had come to the decision he would tell no one the results of the tests. He would occupy his mind by solving the mystery of the non-murder on the lake, and two months from this day, he would row out onto the lake and get rid of his pain forever.

He needed to contact Shultz in Reno and Hillory Gibson in L.A. to make sure they didn't misinterpret his death and reveal evidence that would ruin the lives of many high ranking people. He shuddered at the thought of what would happen in California, Nevada, and even Washington D.C. if Shultz or Hillory mistakenly made that evidence available to the News Services.

"No!" He said to himself, "When I go there can be no doubt that I did it to myself."

Checking in with Ollie revealed that Phil Martin had dropped off the Coroner's report and all of the available information on the people from the Christian Camp. Ollie said he had been in a hurry, but would like Bean to call him whenever he got a chance. Ollie asked,

"How did it go at the hospital, are they going to have to cut yer head off, or just get you a bigger jock strap?"

Bean laughed and answered,

"Oh, I gotta go back for more tests in a couple of months, and in the meantime, the Doc gave me some new pills that are supposed to do the trick." He grabbed a cold cheese sandwich and went to his trailer to read the material Phil had delivered.

Ted English and Mrs. Tildon checked out to be pretty ordinary citizens, and even Helen Tracy turned out to be more ordinary than Bean had originally surmised. Meaning that she actually had a boy friend. His name was Roy Chalmers and he worked for the Department of Fish And Game. His regular job was driving the large water tanker that was used to stock the local lakes and streams with hatchery rainbow-trout.

Connley was more of a mystery, and the information on him was very scanty. He had been a corporate lawyer for an international conglomerate; then suddenly, he had left that position and formed the non-profit corporation called The Christian Children's Camps of America.

The funding was being traced, but so far it appeared to come from Las Vegas and several dummy corporations used by the 'Chicago People'. Connley's first name was Jason, and Phil had written that the various camp directors were usually panic stricken when they heard that J.C. was coming for a visit.

The little girl had died by drowning, and the blood that had been poured all over the lower part of her body was chicken blood. There was no evidence of sexual molestation, and so far, she was still identified as a Jane Doe.

Bean scratched his head in bewilderment, "Why would anyone do anything so weird? It was ludicrous. The body was over a week old, and the blood was fresh and not even human. Except for the poor, little, drowned girl, it had all the appearances of a practical joke." He undressed, took two of the new pills, and immediately fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He awoke with a start. He was sitting in his chair fully dressed, his clothes were soaking wet, and he was freezing cold. His teeth were actually chattering, as he stripped off the wet clothing and rubbed himself warm with a rough towel. He turned on the light and checked the time. It was four-thirty in the morning, the door was locked on the inside, and the only footprints on the floor were his own wet prints.

He crawled back into bed, held his head in both hands, and dropped off into fitfull, worried slumber. This time he dreamed of a large shapeless mass inside his head, growing forever larger until it forced his painfull eyeballs out onto his cheeks. He awoke to his usual headache. He found some dry clothes and, after washing his face in cold water, went to breakfast.

Ollie took one look at him and in typical Ollie fashion tried to cheer him up with,

"Jeeze Jim, You look like death warmed over! Who's yer undertaker? What would you like fer yer last meal?" Bean had to laugh ... then he asked,

"Now that you've had your fun, did you by any chance see me walking in my sleep last night? I haven't done that since I was about eight years old, but last night, Damned if I didn't go for a walk and fell off the damn dock into the lake. I didn't wake up until I almost froze my ass off. I was back in my room -- sitting in my chair in soaking wet clothes. At least, I had enough modesty to get dressed before I started strolling around."

"Sure didn't see you, but I'da give twenty bucks to have watched you walk off my dock though. Lemme know if yer gonna do it again soon, and I'll sell some tickets. I'll split the money with you, and we'll both get rich. What'll it be this morning, ham and eggs or pancakes and eggs?"

"I'll take the pancakes and eggs." While he was waiting, He poured himself a cup of coffee and dialed Phil. Phil answered on the second ring and said,

"I was about to give up on you and go to work, we all can't sleep in you know. The reason I wanted you to call me at home is that Wells is acting real strange. He pulled you off the case, and when he found out I was getting that information for you, he went berserk. He grabbed the originals I had in my hand -- saying that I was way off base investigating those people.

"He said he had sent you up there for a complete rest because you were demonstrating some very strange behavior; and if he had to suspend the both of us to get our noses out of things that didn't concern us, he would.

"I didn't tell him you had copies, or that we were in contact. Jim, I don't want to get him any more pissed off than he already is; so if you do anything, or I help in any way, it's got to be unofficial and on the Q.T. Okay?"

"Okay, Thanks Phil. I'm not going to quit, but I'll leave you out of it from here on in." He sipped his coffee and by the time he finished breakfast, he decided to return to the Christian Camp for one last visit.

At the camp he rapped on the counter to once again get Mrs. Tildon's attention. She looked up impatiently, as he asked,

"Pardon me, Mrs. Tildon, this won't take long, but I need a list of all the other Christian Children's Camps that are owned and operated by the corporation, and I need their phone numbers, if you don't mind." Anticipating that she was going to mind he quickly added, "And if you do mind, I'll be back here with a subpoena in an hour for all of your records both personnel and financial."

She gulped like a fish two or three times and said,

"Wait here, I'll have to clear this with Mr Connley. He arrived this morning, and he would fire me on the spot if I were to let you see the records without his permission." She turned and went down the hall and disappeared into a room on the left. Almost instantly, she and a tall very well- dressed man about sixty appeared in the hall and headed for where Bean was standing.

Bean took the time to observe Connley as they approached. Connley was wearing a five hundred dollar suit and the ring on the little finger of his left hand had a diamond in it that had to have cost more than Bean's salary for a year. He had beady black eyes that were snapping with anger, and as he approached, he did indeed snap.

"Tildon, get your ass back to work, I'll handle this country cop! You! It's Bean, isn't it? I want you to get the Hell off my property!"

"You are not going to see any of our records, and don't give me that subpoena or search warrant bull-shit. I know for a fact you were told to back off and not to stick your nose where it don't belong. Now get out of here, or I'll make a phone call and get you suspended without pay."

Bean stood looking at him for a couple of minutes and then said in a deadly serious tone,

"I'll leave for now, but I'll be back. There's something rotten going on here, and if I have to go to the State Capitol -- I'll do it. Then I'll come back here and turn this place upside down."

"You're using these Christian Camps for some scam, and when I'm through, You'll all be staying at a different kind of camp, only the windows will have bars." He went out the door slamming it behind him.

He furiously drove into Gainesville, pulled up in front of the station, and went in to confront his boss, Bob Wells. Gerttie looked up as he strode through and into Wells's office. She saw the grim look on his face and decided not to kid around with him this visit.

Wells looked up from behind his desk, smiled broadly, and said,

"Well James, what brings you to town today? I thought yesterday was the day for your examination, and speaking of examinations, how did your tests come out? Did they spot the cause of your headaches?"

Bean shook his head,`No` -- and said, "I got some new medicine, and they're gonna do more tests in a couple of months. Damn it Bob, that's not why I'm here. You've got to level with me. From the moment that I called in about that child in the boat, you've been acting strange. When you ordered me to let it drop, I thought that you were concerned about my health, but when you jumped all over Phil for doing a little standard police work, I knew something was wrong.

"Now when I try to get some information out of a known Mob tool -- this piece of crap, Connley tells me I have been ordered off the case. He's even confident enough to tell me I can't get a search warrant or a subpoena. That tells me that he has a pipe-line right into this office." Wells stood up and hit his desk in anger, shouting,

"Damn it Jim, are you calling me dirty? Why can't you just obey orders like anyone else? I'll tell you my reasons, but it can't get out of this room. Then I want you to back off, Okay?" Bean sat down across from Wells and replied,

"I'll agree to not repeating anything you say, but I reserve the right to decide my course of action after your done." Then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and waited.

"When you called in about the dead girl, the first thing that we did was to dispatch Phil and Doc Aames, and then we checked all the local areas for a missing girl.

"When nothing turned up, I called Willie Baker over in Reno.