"I thought that he might be able to help. He surprised the Hell out of me by saying he had been waiting for my call. When I asked him why, he said the Gainesville police had done all that was needed. He went on to explain that there was a Federal Investigation going on. They were investigating The connection between the tax exempt Christian Children's Camp Corporation and the Organized Crime Syndicate.

"When I asked him what that had to do with the dead child? He answered that the child was an unknown run-away who had been pulled out of Lake Mead, and the FBI had borrowed the body to give them an excuse to be poking around the camp. He said their methods weren't orthodox, but neither was the Syndicate. He told me not to get involved and that the FBI were already on the scene.

"Two hours after Willie warned me off, the phone rang and Agent Mitchell of the FBI told me in no uncertain language to get you out of their way. Now that's all I know and it should be good enough for you."

Bean opened his eyes, looked closely at Wells, and as he leaned forward he spoke,

"Bob, there may be much more here than meets the eye. I'm going to tell you something I kept from you out of consideration for your friendship with Willie...

"It all happened the time when Willie was kidnapped by that group of terrorists called the Committee for Law and Order..." And Bean proceeded to tell Wells about the plot to subvert the law of the land and to combat crime by terrorist tactics. A plot that included Willie and six other police chiefs, the FBI including Brad Simons, the director, the News media, and even the White House."

Bean concluded by saying,

"Now Bob, if you had no prior knowledge of all this, don't be blaming Willie or anyone else involved, but you have to realize as long as the evidence that could ruin each and every one of them is around, some of them will be scheming to either find it or discredit the six people who control it. And Bob, I'm the only one that knows the identity of the other five."

Wells wiped his forehead with his handkerchief and whispered,

"Christ Jim, what a spot to be in. No wonder you have headaches, I don't know how you can get any sleep. I'd be watching the window with a loaded gun twenty-four hours a day. What are you going to do? You can't buck the FBI."

Bean stood, "Tell me Bob, did you tell Connley I had been ordered off the case?" Wells shook his head, `no`. "Well, that tells me they already have Ollie's phone bugged, and probably my room too."

"Don't worry about it Bob, you've helped a lot. They're not after the camp. They're after me, and now that I know it, I'll just wait for them to come to me.

"They know about Hillory Gibson, Shultz, and Ollie Dobson, but they don't have a clue as to the identity of the last two holders of the evidence. If you're not one of them, then they will be considering you as a prime candidate, So watch your back, Bob."

"Aw Shit, Thanks a lot, James. You've really made my day."

Bean left, waving at Gerttie as he walked out. She stuck her head inside Wells's office and said,

"James Bean, sure left a lot happier than when he came storming in here. What's up anyway?"

"You don't want to know, Gerttie, you don't want to know. If anybody asks, just tell them I just extended his vacation another two weeks."

Bean stopped at the local Radio Shack and made some purchases. Then he drove back to the lake and spent the remainder of the day in his trailer watching TV. He carefully searched until he had located the bugs installed very professionally in several places. Then under the cover of the noise from the TV, he installed his own surveillance equiptment.

That evening, he ate with Ollie and his family, and when Ollie suggested some checkers, he put his finger to his lips and said,

"Not tonight, Ollie, but before I go to bed, I want to show you that broken motor bracket on that boat." He turned without waiting for Ollie's answer and walked out onto the boat-dock. Ollie followed him and when he caught up, he asked,

"Just what the Hell was that all about? I don't have any broken motor brackets."

"I know," said Bean in a low voice. He kept his back to the shore just in case one of them was a lip reader. "Ollie, keep looking out over the lake while I talk. Your phone is tapped and my trailer is bugged. I wouldn't be surprised if your restaurant isn't bugged also. Do you have any recent arrivals in your trailer park who could be FBI types?

Ollie replied, "Yea, in number five, there's two guys who look more like plain-clothes cops than fishermen. They checked in last week and said they'd be staying a whole month.

"If they've been doing any fishing, they must be shore fishing because they haven't rented a boat, and they haven't taken any meals in the restaurant."

Bean told him of the events of the day and the conversation he had with Chief Bob Wells.

"Ollie, I think there's big trouble brewing, and I don't want anything to happen to you or your family, so I think that tomorrow I should pack up and get out of here. They probably think you are holding a set of those tapes. That Mitchell is a mean bastard, but they don't dare harm just one of us, they need six names before they can act."

"Bull-shit Jamie, you need someone to cover your back. Your Chief can't help cause he'll have the FBI all over his ass. I'll just clue in Orvil, he don't look it, but he's a real bad ass when the going gets rough. You watch your front and we'll take care of your back."

Bean thanked him by gently punching him on the shoulder and walking quietly back to his trailer; where he lost no time in taking a couple of pain pills and jumping into bed.

The blinding light in his eyes looked like the headlight of a train, flashing up and down, back and forth -- but wait a minute -- there were no train tracks near Lake Squiggly. Then he heard a voice saying,

"Sir! Sir, you must wake up and roll down the window. I'm a police officer. Wake up and get out of the car."

He shook his head and opened his eyes, what the Hell was he doing in his car? And who was yelling at him?

He turned his head and saw the flashlight shining on a badge. The badge read California Highway Patrol, so he opened his door and groaned,

"I'm, Detective James Bean, from Gainesville. What can I do for you?"

His mind was racing in utter terror, how had he gotten to where-ever he was? And once again, how had he gotten fully dressed and driven his car without waking up?

The Highway Patrolman hadn't relaxed his attitude after Bean had identified himself. He just stepped back carefully and said,

"Sir, please take your keys out of the ignition and open your trunk. Keep your hands in sight and move slowly, please." Bean complied and when he approached the rear of his car, he saw the reason for the officer's concern. The trunk lid was closed, but protruding from the crack was about ten inches of a man's bloody shirt-tail.

He opened the trunk and there, curled up inside, was the body of Jason Connley. He had been beaten to death with the tire iron that lay across his hip. Bean had no doubts his fingerprints would be all over that tire iron.

Bean's mind was racing, he knew that in order to clear himself, he couldn't afford to be in custody. The Patrolman had already drawn his weapon so Bean just sighed and assumed the position, even before being told. With his legs apart and extended behind him, he appeared helpless to the Patrolman, but when he started his body search, he was totally unprepared for Bean's sliding fall with a full body twist that left the officer laying on his face with Bean on top.

Bean made short work of handcuffing the man and putting him in the front seat of his car. Bean had decided to take the Patrol car because he needed to use the radio to get a message to Bob Wells, and he was sure that he could trust Gerttie to deliver it. He drove the Patrol car to the Christian Children's Camp parking lot, approaching with the lights off and called Gerttie on the Gainesville frequency.

His watch read five-thirty before he heard her grumpy voice answer,

"Who the Hell's up this time a the mornin?" It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He replied,

"It's me, your sweety, James Bean, and boy am I glad to hear your voice." He told her of the night's happenings and warned her not to let on that she had heard from him. He told her where his car containing the body, and the cop was located. Then he said,

"Tell Bob to come out to my trailer with a warrant for my arrest and a search warrant for my trailer. Tell him to act mad as Hell, but to go into my trailer alone. I will be inside and explain everything to him when he gets there."

Gerttie said she would and for him to take care of himself, then they broke off the connection. Bean slipped into the water and swam across the lake to Hickory Dickory Dock just before daylight. He slipped quietly into his trailer without seeing anyone.

Wells didn't arrive until almost ten o'clock. Bean figured he might have had trouble getting warrants signed this early in the morning. He could hear angry voices as Wells and Ollie approached the trailer, Wells told Ollie he sure didn't need his help in searching the trailer, so butt out!

Ollie left and Wells entered. As he came through the door Bean held his finger to his lips and showed Wells the bugs; then he handed him a notepad and a ballpoint. On the first page he had written,

"I set up an audio-video trap for those bastards, and they fell right into it. I'll play back the video, but I want you to know the audio is equally incriminating. Watch!"

Bean started up his VCR and the scene was of him getting ready for bed, taking his pain pills, and falling asleep. The next scene was of Mitchell and another man entering the room through the door. Mitchell had a key in his hand, and they didn't seem to be worried about waking Bean. The film showed them laughing and talking as they entered.

They dressed Bean and weren't too gentle about it. When they had him dressed, they went through his pockets then they walked him out through the door. Mitchell stood for a moment surveying the room then, apparently satisfied, they left.

Wells wrote, `Who are they?' Handing the pad to Bean. Bean wrote, `Mitchell and some other FBI guy, they have been staying in number five for over a week and had my room bugged before I even got up here. If they knew I was coming up here then they must have your office and phones tapped also.' Wells took the pad and wrote,

`What are we going to do?' Bean scribbled his answer, `Take me to Gainesville under arrest, but hold me in our over-night cell at the office. That way I can get some work done, and they can't get to me. I only need a couple more pieces to wind this up.'

Wells obligingly handcuffed Bean while yelling, "Get out from up there, you're under arrest." Then walked him outside while reading him his rights. He told Ollie he had found Bean hiding up in the crawl-space of the trailer.

Both Wells and Bean winked at the very confused Ollie, as they walked past and headed for Wells' car.

Bean had all the notes from the pad in his pocket, and Wells had the video tape and an audio tape in his brief case. Each machine had been activated by a modified motion sensor that Bean had installed to monitor his room while he slept. Neither would record unless there was motion in the room to activate it.

As they drove along, Wells slid the audio cassette into his car stereo, and they both listened to the conversation between Mitchell and the other man.

The unknown man was speaking, "Mitch, I sure hope he don't wake up before were through, he hasn't been out very long."

"Don't worry about it. We've got a lot of work ahead of us tonight." The first man laughed and said,

"Christ! I couldn't believe it when that old broad told the boss, she wanted to waste him. But boy, she musta wanted to-- real bad -- cause that first whack with the tire iron split his head wide open. Then she just kept pounding his head until it was a bloody pulp. I think maybe she got off on doing it, the boss had to pull her off him. What do you think?"

"I think you talk too much," replied Mitchell, "Now shut up and help me get this bastard out of here. She didn't want to kill Jason any worse than I want to kill this son of a bitch, but I know I can't until we get those tapes -- so I guess I'll just have to wait." And the sound died as they presumably walked Bean out the door.

Wells looked at Bean with shocked questioning eyes, and Bean answered his unspoken question with,

I'll bet it was Tildon. Connley treated her like dirt under his feet. For how many years, I don't know, but you could feel the heat of her hatred from ten feet away."

"But Jim, we just sat here and listened to two FBI agents calmly discussing witnessing a murder and and planning another, as if the law didn't apply to them at all. I can't believe this. Who in Hell can we report this to? And what can we do about it. You say even the Director of the Bureau can't be trusted, and maybe even the President. Jim, I can't cope with this kind of crap."

"Calm down Bob, if you want out it's Okay. I understand. Only please do me one last favor, lock up those tapes in your safe. It would help if you could deputize Ollie and Orvil, so their asses are covered if it comes to a fight -- and Oh yeah, I forgot something -- stop at that phone-booth over there." Wells pulled over next to the phone-booth and removed the handcuffs, so Bean could get his hand into his pocket for change.

Bean pulled out a two handsfull of quarters, dimes and nichols and put the change on the shelf in the phone-booth and made a long distance call. When he got his party, he spoke angrily for several moments then listened quietly to the reply.

When the phone went dead, he thoughtfully hung up, gathered up his change, and as he stepped out of the booth his hand missed his pocket; and the change spilled all over the sidewalk and into the gutter. Bob Wells got out to help Bean pick up the change and when he had a handful, he looked up in dismay to see Bean driving away in his car.

"Come back here you crazy bastard!" He shouted, as the car, the tapes, and his prisoner disappeared into the sunset.

"Well," he thought, at least he left me change for a phone call." He entered the phone-booth just as the phone rang and when he lifted the receiver, the operator said,

"Please deposit nine dollars and eighty five cents for overtime charges." By the time he had recovered all of Bean's coins and dropped them in the slot, the operator informed him that he was still one dollar and twenty five cents short. He finally talked her into charging the balance to his home phone number. She thanked him and he thanked her and hung up.

He then tried to dial the station, but couldn't seem to get a dial tone. In the dimming light he bent over and read,

"First deposit twenty cents then at the dial tone, dial your number or `O` for operator." Luckily, there were no passing motorists to witness the Chief of Police of Gainesville screaming incoherently, as he tried to destroy a public phone booth.

Bean called Gerttie on Wells's radio and told her he had stolen Wells's car and where they could find the Chief. He waited until she quit laughing, and asked her not to hurry on rescuing the Chief, and would she please ask Phil Martin to meet him on another frequency? She agreed, so he went to the private frequence and waited.

In a few minutes, Phil came on frequency, chuckling,

"Yo Bean, what're you gonna do next?"

"Probably retire whether I want to or not," Bean replied, "I need you to get Ollie and bring him to the Gainesville Hospital parking lot. I'll meet him there and explain. Okay?"

"Okay, I'm on my way. I'll see you in about an hour, and for God's sake don't ever tell the Chief that I was running errands for you after you stole his car."

"Make that two hours, I've got one other errand to run," replied Bean. "Then I'll tell you guys a story that you won't believe."

Bean hurried to the video store and had both the video and the audio cassette copied. Then quickly to the bus station. He put one set in a locker, put the key in a second locker, then wired the second key under the Chief's car.

Phil and Ollie were waiting in the parking lot, when he pulled in and joined them in Phil's car. He rapidly brought them up to date on the murder of Jason Connley and the attempt to frame him by Mitchell and his accomplice. He then put the cassette into Phil's stereo and played it.

When it was over Phil broke the silence with,

"Shit! Jim, who the Hell do you think the old broad was that they were talking about? And where do these FBI guys come into it? I've heard of Government `Sanctions`."

"But never direct involvement in a murder conspiracy. These guys are too much."

Bean explained, "I tried to enlist Wells in trying to put them down, but he doesn't have the stomach for it. I suddenly realized, I had put the battle and my life in his hands by giving him possesion of these tapes. The first thing he would do, if the Director of the FBI insisted, would be to turn them over and hope they wouldn't be too angry with him.

"Ollie," Bean continued, "I need you to go into the hospital and ask if Doctor Mike Phillips is on duty and if not, is he normally on staff here? Convince them that I had recommended him, and you want him to give you a complete MRI examination. Tell them you'll only discuss your problems with him and no one else."

"Ok, but I ain't gonna go to him, for real, cause I hate them butchers." He got out of the car and left. Bean turned to Phil -- in a very serious tone of voice,

"Phil, this is going to be my last case. My health has gone to pot and my outlook on life is even worse. I made another phone call, this afternoon, to Simons the Director of the FBI. I started out raising Hell because Simons was supposed to have suspended and disciplined Agent Mitchell as part of the bargain we made.

"He stopped me in mid-sentence and told me he hadn't suspended Mitchell. He had fired him and two other agents for getting involved with the Mob.

"It seems Mitchell had a gambling problem and being the resident Agent in Reno didn't help. He became so indebted they threatened to kill or expose him if he didn't do their bidding, so he went on the payroll along with two others.

"At the Mob's direction they set up their own witness protection program. Any time a Federal Grand Jury Indictment was about to be served, Mitchell would slip the ones under indictment out of the country, and the Mob would take care of the witnesses.

"They hadn't publicised the problem, they just fired the participants and burnt the records in typical Government style. If Mitchell was involved in a murder, it had to be Mob related." Bean paused as Ollie returned and sat down in the back seat.

"No luck James, that Doctor is some specialist, and he only comes to Gainesville or Reno to treat someone special. His answering service number is a Las Vegas number. That's all I could find out."

"About what I expected," said Bean. "Phil would you drive me and Ollie back out to the lake?"

"Sure, but what are you going to do about Mitchell and his buddy? Can I help?"

"I'm going rat hunting!" Bean replied, "and I'm gonna use me as bait."

"You can help by sticking close, but not too close. Park down the road a couple hundred yards after the turn in. Nobody should see you down there, and if you hear a battle going on, come a running!"

On the ride back, Bean ran down to Ollie, all about the phone call to Washington D.C. He finished with,

"So you see Ollie, it's the Mob. They want to get their filthy hands on those tapes, so they could blackmail the police chiefs of seven cities, the FBI; and even the President for as long as he stays in office.

"They have been trying to get me into some hospital for the criminally insane where they could work at brain-washing me into revealing the location of those damn tapes."

Phil pulled off the road under a tree and whispered,

"This is as close as I can sit and still not be spotted, so you guys be careful and don't bite off more than you can chew. I'll be there in a flash if you make enough noise."

They got out of the car and walked quietly to the dock where they parted. Ollie whispered that he would be keeping watch and he was going to alert Orvil. Bean nodded and went to his trailer.

He entered his trailer and closed his door loudly behind him.

He sat in his chair, checked his nine millimeter and picked up the phone. He was thinking if they were listening, it shouldn't take them too long to arrive. He dialed Bob Wells's home phone number and when he heard Bob's angry voice, he said,

"Evening Bob, your old buddy Bean here. I wanted to thank you for the use of your wheels and to tell you I did call Simons in Washington today and guess what? That Mitchell ass-hole don't even work for the FBI. They fired him a long time ago, so is it Okay if I bust his ass now, or should I wait till morning?"

Wells asked, "Where's my car?"

"At the hospital in the parking lot." Bean answered, "Yer not still mad are you?" ... and that's when the lights went out.

He couldn't have been out for more than a couple of minutes, but when he woke his hands and ankles were manacled and Mitchell was standing over him with the nine millimeter in his hand. The gun was pointing right between Beans eyes and Mitchell's finger was white knuckled on the trigger.

His pardner said, "You better not, Mitch. They'll kill us both if you waste this guy. It's got to look like suicide or we can't do it. The scheme is already blown here, so we had best just leave it up to the boss.

"Shut up!" screamed Mitchell, This bastard has ruined my career, He's screwed up everything I've ever tried to do, and by God he's not going to live to see another day. I'll drown the son of a bitch and come back tomorrow and make it look like suicide."

He grabbed Bean and threw him over his shoulder and carried him to the dock. His pardner followed reluctantly and helped Mitchell lock Bean's feet to his wrists, then they slowly lowered him into the water to avoid any splashing.

When they released him, he took a deep breath and sank like a rock. It was pitch black on the bottom, and as he frantically tried to roll and squirm toward shore, he realized that it was a losing battle; and in the blackness he no longer knew where shore was located.

When he was about to give up and exhale, a strong hand grabbed him by the collar and dragged him through the water like a sack.

When his head broke the surface, he was aware enough to know better than to gasp air into his lungs. He very slowly breathed in and out as quietly as he could.

It was dark, but he could make out Ollie's form beside him. Ollie was all in black even his face was darkened with something. As they lay there resting, they could hear angry voices on the dock. There were three figures on the dock and one was really chewing out the other two. His voice was strangely familiar to Bean, but he couldn't place it.

"You dumb bastards!" He was saying, "I should kill you right here on the spot. If this suicide is botched the whole damn plan is down the tubes. You say, you hit Bean over the head before you drowned him. How are you going to explain the bump to the Coroner; and if you manacled his hands, don't you think maybe he did a little struggling down there? And maybe, rubbed a little skin off his wrists and ankles?

"You guys are so stupid you make me sick! Now get your asses down there and get that body back. We'll take it back over to the other side and do it right. We'll grab one of those kids and kill her then make it look like she struggled, and Bean fell and hit his head as he went into the water.

Now do as I say, or I'll shoot you and feed you to the fish."

Mitchell climbed over the side and dropped into the water; as he did, Ollie silently slid under water not making even a ripple. The other man entered the water to assist Mitchell and after about five minutes, when neither of the men surfaced, the boss walked to the edge and quietly called them.

In the meantime, Ollie had returned to Bean's side and was unlocking the manacles from his wrists and ankles. He held his finger to his lips and slid back under water.

The other man was by now getting angry and a little scared. He squatted down at the edge of the dock and hissed,

"Goddamnit! If you guys are hiding under the dock you better get a move on. Get that body and let's get out of here, We don't have all night."

Suddenly he screamed and started jumping up and down on one foot, holding the other. After about three jumps, he screamed again and fell to his knees then he started screaming and moaning.

Bean looking under the dock could just see the outline of Ollie with his fish-knife stabbing upward through the cracks between the boards in the dock. He had stabbed through both feet and both legs; and now was diving deep as the man started firing down through the boards in panic.

A voice came out of the darkness, "Hold on there Partner, what the Hell do you think yer doin?" The man whirled and got off one hurried shot -- before Orvil blew a king sized hole in him with his twelve gauge shotgun.

Bean yelled, "Orvil, it's Bean, and I'm coming in."

When Orvil acknowledged, Bean swam out to the dock just in time to help Ollie pull the other two bodies out of the water and lay them on the dock. They both had their throats cut and all Ollie said was,

"I don't recon these two will be goin over to kill some little girl tonight, huh?" Bean looked at the other one and said,

"Ollie, I'd like you to meet Doctor Mike Phillips. You don't have to worry bout him carving on you, but it looks like you did a pretty good job on him. He's the reason these other two bastards knew I wouldn't be waking up when they were moving me around town."

Orvil spoke up, "Ollie, I sure hope all these guys are the crooks and not the cops, cause I can hear sirens coming this way; and if you're not sure, I'll be heading out fer Tennessee, if you don't mind?"

Bean laughed and reassured him that if anything he was a hero, and before this case was over, there might be some reward money. Ollie left to turn on the floodlights and Phil came running out on the dock, service revolver in hand. He stopped just as the lights came on and started with,

"I heard the shots and came as fast as I could, to help out. But I see, as usual, I'm late and you have the situation well in hand." He looked at the three bodies and with a puzzled look asked, "What the Hell, happened?

"Yeah Bean, what the Hell have you done now?"

Echoed Wells's voice as he arrived on the dock, angry and out of breath. He took one look at the bodies lined up on the dock and breathed, "Jesus Christ! Jim, that's the Doctor that Willie sent over to do your examination! How did he get here and who killed him?

Bean sighed and replied, "Well Bob, it happened this way. After these two thought that they had killed me by hitting me over the head, manacling my wrists and ankles, and dumping me in the lake. Their Boss, The Doctor must have gone out of his head with rage.

"Because by the time that Ollie had dragged me to shore, and pumped some water out of me, The Doctor was alone on the dock. He was screaming and cursing and jumping up and down like a madman.

"Old Orvil, came down to the dock to find out what was going on and when he yelled at the Doctor, the lunatic started shooting at him. So Orvil just let him have both barrels from his twelve gauge.

"Ollie had to go diving for these two to get the keys so that he could unlock these damn manacles. They had me trussed up like a Christmas turkey."

"Jim, you mean Doctor Mike Phillips, was Mob connected too?" Bean could see the wheels turning, as Wells asked the question.

"Yes Bob, I know it hurts, and you've been friends for years, but Willie has to be in this right up to his ears. He had to have known that Mitchell was fired and no longer the Special Agent for the Reno area; and he sent the high priced Mob Doctor to drug me and try to drive me crazy with these black-outs, murders, and a diagnosis of a brain tumor.

"And I'll bet you called Willie and told him all about the plot and the tapes that would prove my innocence. You also had to have told him I had escaped and stole your car because although everyone here thought I was in custody. These two were hiding in my trailer, waiting for me to get home.

"I don't blame you, Bob, you just didn't know. Now, the first thing we have to do is get a warrant for Mrs. Tildon's arrest for the murder of Jason Connley. Damn! I never did get her first name, you're going to have to leave it blank and type it in just before we serve it.

"I want to do it tonight before the news of any of this leaks out. They are probably pretty curious about all the noise and lights, as it is. Wake up the judge and get the warrant; while Ollie and I will change into some dry clothes.

"And Bob, two things, get someone to come out here and pick up this garbage." He pointed to the three bodies. "And the last thing is -- please, don't call Willie! You and I can drive over there tomorrow and talk to him in person. Maybe, there's more than one way to handle this. Okay?"

Wells agreed and left to get the warrant. Phil said he really had enjoyed the story, but what had really happened? Ollie just looked at him, grinned, and said,

"Well, ain't you the one! Jamie, you gotta cut this out, I'm getting too old fer this Shit."

Wells was back in a little over two hours and with him was the forever angry Coroner Aames and a driver for the ambulance. They showed no lights, as they drove up to the dock. With Wells was Gerttie, and Wells explained,

"If we're going to going to arrest her in her bed, I thought we should have a female officer to help us out. Gerttie, here, is the closest I could find on such short notice." Then he ducked, as Gerttie swung at him with her purse.

"Gollies, this is the most fun I've had since they blew up the manure factory." She chirped, "midnight ride with the Chief, Old Bean strewing bodies all over the country side, and I get to bust a murderer in bed. Wow!"

"Oh shut up Gerttie," said Bean, "lets go get it over with. I've got to scare the remaining pieces of this puzzle out of her before anyone can get to her."

They pulled into the parking lot at the Christian Camp and walked toward the office. Helen Tracy stepped out of the shadows and demanded,

"Who are you people and what do you want?" Bob Wells identified himself and asked for the location of Tildon's sleeping quarters. "Judith's room is next door to mine,why?" Wells told her to unlock the office, and he would show her why.

She grumbled, but did as he asked. Once inside with the light on, Gerttie immediately spotted the typewriter, sat down, and typed in the name `Judith`. Then she handed the warrant to Wells. He held it up, so Tracy could read it, and when she finished reading, he said,

"I want you to turn off the lights, then lead us quietly to her bedroom. After that, I want you to go to bed and don't try to let anyone know about this until tomorrow. We have the phones tapped, so we'll know if you try to phone out."

She shut off the lights and, as she led them down the hall, she said,

"I just don't believe a word of this! Judith would't hurt a fly, she couldn't have beaten poor Jason to death." She stopped in front of a door, gave Wells her key-ring with one key pointed toward him, and entered the adjoining room.

Wells unlocked the door and left the key-ring in the lock. He opened the door. The men stayed at the door, as Gerttie entered the room, shook Tildon awake, and told her that she was under arrest for murder. All this was done by the light of two flashlights; and when Gerttie started reading her rights, Bean snapped on the room lights.

One look told Bean that Gerttie was not going to have any trouble with Tildon. She was in shock. Her eyes were open staring, but not seeing. She was chewing her lower lip, and her cheek under her left eye was twitching.

He said, "Don't forget to handcuff her after you get her dressed." He closed the door to give them privacy.

After they arrived at the station with Tildon, Bean had Gerttie take her into his office and wait. He could see she had regained some of her composure, and he knew the effect waiting had on a nervous suspect.

When he finally entered, he waited until he was seated before speaking and then he said,

"Judith, I'm not going to waste my time with accusations and listening to your denials. I've got you locked into this murder and I'll prove it.

"First let me assure you that we have Agent Mitchell in custody and his accomplice. We also are holding Doctor Mike Phillips, and in the morning we will be taking into custody Chief Willie Baker of the Reno Police. So they can't get to you or protect you.

"Now take a look at this short video and listen to what the characters were saying, as they performed for my camera."

Bean simultaniously hit the play button on the Video and on his cassette player. He sat back and watched her face as her world fell apart. By the end of the tape, she was sobbing hysterically with her face in her hands.

He spoke softly, "Judith, when you get control of yourself, I need to know why Connley had to be killed? He was too important to the Mob to kill just to destroy me.

"What's going on with these Camps, anyway?"

After about ten minutes of crying, she finally seemed to make up her mind and asked if she could deal? Bean told her there were always mitigating circumstances, things and conditions that contributed to temporary insanity.

She sniffed, wiped her eyes and said,

"I'm the book-keeper and the Christian Camps have children as guests in the summer season, but in the off season we cater to some very high paying guests who really don't want anyone to know their whereabouts, if you get what I mean.

"During a recent unscheduled audit, I discovered some very strange irregularities, so I reported them to Corporate Headquarters, if you know what I mean. They ran an audit on all the Camps and found that Connley was skimming and running a side business of illegal aliens and pocketing the money.

"Needless to say, the Corporation was furious and sent Mitchell to take care of Connley. That's when Chief Baker told Mitchell that you were sick and on leave right across the lake. Then's when the whole plan fell together. Baker said those blackmail tapes were worth twenty Jasons, so they just decided to kill two birds with one stone, only I hated that bastard so much I wanted to beat his brains in with my own two hands."

Bean had Gerttie type up her statement, then had Judith sign it. After locking her up for the night, Bean went wearily home for a couple of hours sleep. Wells had signed a release on Bean's car, so he and Ollie drove it back to the lake. On the way Bean told Ollie he thought it would be a good idea for Ollie to temporarily get himself a new fish cleaning knife. Ollie agreed and when they arrived, they went their seperate ways, Ollie, to put things in their proper places and Bean to bed. In the morning, they had to go talk to Willie in Reno.

The next morning Wells was reading Judith's statement with tears in his eyes, when Bean entered his office. He looked at Bean and said, "I'm sorry Jim, but I broke my word to you. I read this statement last night after you left, and I couldn't stand it! That man has been like the brother I never had, so I called Willie and read this statement to him.

"God! Jim, he pleaded and he threatened; and finally, he admitted he was in so deep that he could never get out. Then Jim, he broke down and cried -- and at the end -- he just said, `Good-bye Buddy take care of your self' and hung up.

"He didn't come to work this morning, so they checked when I called, and they found him in his car. The motor was still running, and the hose was taped to the top of the window."

"At least his family won't have to live through the embarrassment of a trial, and his wife will end up with a partial pension."

Bean leaned over and patted Wells on the back,

"That's all right, Bob, I would've probably done the same thing myself. We couldn't look the other way, and poor Willie was caught right in the middle. The Grand Jury investigation and the subsequent indictments would have destroyed Willie and his family; and believe me, Bob, the Mob isn't likely to leave any live witnesses laying around.

"They would've probably killed Willie before he could testify, and they will kill Judith if we don't take steps to hide her immediately. I'll tell you what, I'll go hide her; and then, when we need her testimony, all we have to do is run an add in the Reno Bulletin, and she'll be delivered.

Wells didn't even look up as he left. He signed out Tildon, handcuffed her and put her in his car. He drove off toward Lake Tahoe, and when he returned two days later -- no one asked, and he didn't volunteer any information.

Bean checked into the hospital for a second opinion about his brain tumor. He had thrown away the drugged pills that Phillips had given him and was hoping Phillips's report of his impending death was greatly exaggerated.

They ran several more tests and came to the conclusion that he did indeed have a tumor, but as to the growth rate, no one could predict when it would start to incapacitate him. It might be months or even years, so if he could live with the pain, he could keep on functioning indefinately. They gave him some more pain pills and he left in much higher spirits than when he entered.

He went back to the station and was met by a worried Gerttie. She immediately asked,

"Bean, when you left the other night, did you take those tapes with you? He shook his head, `No` "Well I've turned this place upside down and them damn things ain't anywhere. Do you think maybe Phil took em?"

"No!" He replied, "Phil left before I did, and when I left they were still in the players. I was so damn tired, I forgot to lock them up.

"I think that they still have Bob's or all of these phones tapped, and after he talked to Willie, someone rushed over here from Reno and stole them." Bean decided not to mention the copies, just in case the whole damn room was bugged. He decided to test his theory and told Gerttie,

"Well, I'm going back to the lake and check my recorder. See you later." Then he left. He drove back to the lake at about seventy miles per hour. By the time he arrived, his equipment had disappeared from his trailer.

He went down to Ollie's restaurant and asked Ollie if he had seen any strangers and when Ollie said he hadn't, Bean told him about the break-in at the station, and how quickly they had taken his equipment after he had mentioned it.

Ollie said, "Well, I'll be Goddamned, I'll hafta put Orvil on permanent guard duty. What're you gonna do now?"

"I think I'll take a little run over to Reno to see what I can find out." He took his car keys and headed for the parking lot. When he bent to unlock his car, the door on the next car over opened, and Bean turned just in time to look directly down the muzzle of a large, nasty, forty-five automatic.

The car windows were all tinted, and the man holding the gun was likewise. He was a huge black man with a bald head and gold-rimmed sun-glasses. He spoke with a Haitian accent,

"Mon, Get in the car before I blow your flippen head off. Now move!" He stood back and kept the gun leveled at Bean's head, as Bean carefully climbed into the back seat. The man inside was also black with a flat-top, afro hair- style. He was sitting so Bean couldn't estimate his size, but his strength was evident, as he roughly handcuffed Bean while his pardner was getting back into the car.

As they drove away, Bean asked, "I don't suppose you want to tell me what this is all about? The bald one laughed and said,

"Ain't he the cool one! The Dude wastes our fine upstanding Doctor and beats in the skull of one of our citizens and then wants to know what this is all about.

"Meester Bean, whether you believe it or not, we are cops. Special task force out of Las Vegas, and we're here in Reno to arrest you and take you to Vegas to stand trial for your heinous crimes."

"Wait a minute, You're not in Reno. You're in California where you have no authority and secondly I've got evidence that proves that I didn't kill those people."

"You're wrong, Meester Bean, this gun sez this is Reno and I've got all the authority I need; and secondly, you used to have evidence, you don't anymore. So now, all the evidence points to you as the killer. Now shut up! I want to listen to some music on our long trip to Vegas.

They both put on head-phones and sat with half-closed eyes, while they listened to their music. Bean was looking out of the window, but his mind was racing. He knew if they got him to Vegas, he was done for. He would be in the capitol city of the Syndicate.

There were two men in the front seat and one on each side of him in the back. The two men in front seemed to be equally as relaxed as the two in back, so the only chance he had was a surprise move and then survival.

Part of the drive into Reno was overlooking Lake Tahoe, and the narrow winding road in some places wound it's way about thirty feet above the lake. Bean waited until the car was coming up on a sharp left turn and was going about fifty when he made his move.

"I gotta puke!" He yelled and lurched forward over the back of the front seat. They tried to grag him, but he got a good hold of the steering wheel and yanked it to the right. The two in the front were so busy looking at him and trying to dodge the puke that the driver didn't have time to brake. The two in back were so busy trying to pull him back into the backseat that they weren't watching the road.

So it worked out Bean was the only one ready, as the car kept going straight instead of turning left. It discribed a lazy arc as it dove thirty feet through the air into about forty feet of water. The drivers window was down about six inches, so as the car sank it rapidly filled with water.

Bean had filled his lungs prior to impact, the others had not; and so, he lay patiently waiting while they clawed and struggled to get out of the sinking car. In less than a minute, there were four unconcious forms floating around in the car. Bean unlocked the back door, kicked it open, and kicked his way to the surface. He thought, "Twice in two days, being trapped under water, running out of air, was a bit too much!"

Once on the surface, he rolled onto his back, rested his handcuffed hands on his stomach, and kicked his way to shore. He was trying to climb up the embankment, when a hand reached down and grabbed his wrist and he looked up into the surprised face of Jack Abbot.

Abbot said nothing until he had helped Bean up the embankment to street level then out of breath -- he gasped,

"Detective Bean, I don't know what you were doing down there in the water, handcuffed and all; but I'm sure glad to get a chance to pay you back, a little, for what you did for me and Jill. Can I give you a ride somewhere?" Bean shivered and nodded, so they climbed into Abbots pickup truck and Jack asked, "Where to?"

"Could you drop me off at the station?" And after Abbot nodded, he asked, "How are you and Jill getting alone and how is young Johnny?"

"Johnny, is going to get a baby sister in another two months, and we are all doing just great. I'll never be able to thank you enough, Mister Bean, for what you did; But I've got to tell you, the way you had it figured out wasn't exactly right.

"Jill had taken out a large insurance policy on herself and made her mother the benificiary. We actually planned to run off together and let that bastard Stan take the blame for her murder. We figured her mother could take care of Johnny."

"When that cowardly bastard hung himself, we were shocked and didn't know what to do. We decided rather than make it any worse, we should change our plans and face the music. But we never intended to drive him to suicide, and that's the truth."

Bean told him he believed him, and he was glad that everything had worked out. Seeing that they were at the station, Bean thanked him for the help and waved with both hands as he drove away.

He went inside, and then had to put up with Gerttie's kidding, as she tried key after key until the handcuffs finally opened and he was free. He scowled at her in mock anger and went out to the parking lot where he crawled under Wells's car and reclaimed his key.

He returned to his office grabbed the change of clothes he kept in his closet and put on the clean dry clothes in the Mens Room. They felt so good that he almost purred. It seemed as if he had been cold and wet for a week.

He entered the Chief's office, sat down, and told Wells about the four Las Vegas cops who had kidnapped him and were now fish food, forty feet down in Lake Tahoe. Wells's face was pale, as he looked around the room and whispered,

"What are we going to do? You can't go around killing every Cop or ex-FBI agent who gets close to you. We've lost the evidence that cleared you. Bean you gotta do something!"

"I'm going to, Bob, stop worrying. Lend me your car. I'll be back in half an hour; and then, you and I are going on a little trip and when we get back, I'll guarantee you this whole mess will be over and done with." He added on the way out, "Call your wife and tell her you won't be back for two days, Okay?"

He went to the bus station and picked up the tapes, stopped at the video store and had a spare set of copies made, and buried one set after wrapping it in foil and plastic bags. The other set he wrapped and secured to the car frame with duct-tape. He wasn't too worried about being followed because he was sure all interested parties, thought he was in custody and enroute to Vegas.

He picked up Bob Wells and without bothering to answer questions about where they were going, drove off into the night. They made a brief stop in San Francisco and then on up the Coast Highway. They had breakfast in Crecent City and while they were waiting for it to be served, Bean excused himself, left the table, and five minutes later, he returned looking pleased with something.

"Damn you Jim, you sure are a secretive bastard." Wells grumbled, "You never have been a team player, I can't run a police force with people like you!" Bean laughed and replied,

"Stick around, Bob, and tomorrow I'll show you a team. The kind of team -- I'd really like to be on."

Eight people sat around the conference table. They were forty five levels above the street, and the sounds of the city were far below. Some knew why they were there --the others thought that they knew, but weren't too sure.

They all knew Detective James Bean -- some wished they didn't. With the exception of Senator Rudy Clanton, no one knew the identity of the tall distinguished looking man standing beside Bean at the head of the table.

Bean started the meeting with, "I called each of you to attend this meeting, so I'll start it off. Some of you I blackmailed into attending and some came willingly, but rest assured -- each and every one of you have something to contribute. First, I'll introduce everyone.

"This gentleman standing by my side is your host, Mister Julius Kingston, who -- by the way, owns this building. Mister Kingston, may I introduce Chief Bob Wells of Gainesville, Senator Rudy Clanton, who you already know quite well, Chief Karl Walker, of Las Vegas, Dirk Harper, Mayor of Las Vegas, Brad Simons, The Director of the FBI, and last but not least our Murderess, Mrs. Judith Tildon.

"Now if you would all sit back and relax, I'm going to outline in some detail what has been happening in and around our small town of Gainesville, and up at Lake Squiggly."

A waiter came in and took orders for drinks and sandwiches. When he finally left the room, Bean told the group everything that had transpired. Starting with the discovery of the faked murder of the little nine year old girl and ending with the four Las Vegas Cops, floating around inside the car in forty feet of water. He left out no detail or conversation -- the only exception -- he didn't mention Ollie's part in the deaths of Mitchell and his accomplice.

By the time he had finished, Dirk Harper was glaring at Karl Walker, and Walker answered the look with,

"I swear to God, Dirk, I don't know anything about it. I never sent any crew into California to pick up anybody. We've go a good working relationship with California. Why would I want to blow it? Those guys must have been moonlighting for, `you know who'."

Bean interrupted, "Let's not start trying to blame one another. That can come later. I see that the waiter is ready with your orders. After you have been served, I want you all to listen carefully to the story that Julius Kingston is going to tell you. The truth of his story, both Senator Clanton and myself can attest to. When you've heard his story, then we'll discuss -- why I've invited you here."

Bean took his ham sandwich and beer, sat down next to Bob Wells, and started eating. Wells looked over with a puzzled look in his eyes. Bean whispered to him,

"Brace yourself Bob, this story will shake you up."

Kingston started his story by getting directly to the point. He looked sternly at the group and declared,

"I'm really not Julius Kingston. I look like Julius Kingston, I sound like Julius Kingston, and my fingerprints even prove that I'm Julius Kingston, but I'm not him. I'm actually Brad Grimes -- Rudy Clanton knows it and now accepts it. Old Jimbo, the Beano, knows it because we fought side by side in Vietnam.

"I was best man at his wedding, and I know things that only his best friend, Brad Grimes could know. No! I'm not schizoid, two Selfs in the same body is defective seed and not lawful. Now be quiet and don't interrupt."

He then went on to tell them the same complete story that he had told Clanton and Bean at their first meeting.

He finished the story by saying, "I've convinced Jimbo that he can't go on trying to make everyone in the World behave theirSelves by blackmailing them.

"So Mister Simonds, if you would like to take this suitcase out on the balcony and examine the contents. I think you will find everything that links anyone to the Committee for Law and Order. When you are satisfied bring it in, and we will burn every scrap in that fireplace.

"Then the plotters can quit plotting, Organized Crime can forget about using it to gain control of the Government, and Jimbo can get on with his life. Bean stood up and turning to Karl Walker, he said,

"Here is Judith's statement, and here are the audio and video tapes that connect her to the murder. They also link Mitchell and his accomplice to the murder. Wells can give you a copy of the arrest report. The arrest report and her statement gives a complete rundown on how these Christian Children's Camps are being used.

"Bob, here is a map that I marked up to show the location of that car. It is thirty feet out and forty feet down. You shouldn't have any trouble finding it.

You people can do as you please with the evidence, but as you have gathered from Brad's story, there is a team here on Earth that is made up of some pretty tough people. And their only job seems to be making things come out right, so I'd be very careful how I conducted my Self if I were you."

Brad Grimes threw his arm around Bean's shoulder, laughed, and said, "There you go again! Jimbo, didn't I tell you about this bad habit you have of blackmailing folks."

Bean, looking slightly embarrassed, turned to Wells,

"Bob, you go on back without me. I'm going to stay with Brad and find out more about these `Weed Whackers'. Maybe I can qualify for their team? I'll be letting you know if I do."

The room slowly became quiet, as the last group took their leave. Brad turned to Jim, "You know Jim, if you seriously want to become part of the Team, you're going to have to change your way of operating. From what you've told me, you sort of go along working independently and by your own rules. You've even been trying to control the punishment to make it fit your concept of the crime.

"This Team has a Leader, and He makes the decisions. You might say that He takes the headaches out of the job. You will be given an assignment and guided to it's completion. If you are required to met out punishment, the reasoning must be just and the logic sound because the decision comes from the highest of authorities. Do you think you can live with this?"

"Brad, when I was told of my brain tumor, I did a lot of soul searching and came to the conclusion that I had been playing God because I doubted the existence of a real God. And I sure as Hell couldn't trust my fellow man to do the job properly. I'd be so happy to give up that responsibility, I could just shit!"

Brad laughed and said, "Well old buddy, let's sleep on it and talk about it some more tomorrow."

===========================================================

Detective James Bean woke from a sound sleep feeling better than he felt in years. He was actually whistling as he shaved and jumped into the shower. After rubbing dry with a coarse textured snow-white towel, he dressed and went to join his friend Brad for breakfast.

Sitting in the breakfast-nook, looking out over the city from forty five stories up, he wondered why Brad was late and then he noticed the wrapped present and the note bearing his name. He unfolded it and read,

"Good morning, Jimbo old buddy. By now, you should have noticed that your headache is gone! If not, shame on you! Before you read any further, open your present and then finish reading this."

Bean stopped reading and suddenly realized the pain had indeed disappeared. He couldn't believe it, he had lived with pain so long he had gotten used to it. He hurriedly opened the box, and inside was a jar containing an ugly, blue-grey, fibrous mass about the size of a walnut.

He knew instinctively what it was, and immediately felt all over his head for a bandage or a cut, but there was none. He picked the note back up and continued reading.

"William Gill stopped by for a visit last night, and he told me that while reading your memories, he came across something in your head that didn't belong there -- so he removed it.

"He said you wouldn't be much use to us dead, so he fixed you. I sure hope you're not mad! But if you are going to help us in our work, you have to be in good condition. I'll be back tomorrow to fill you in on all the details."

Bean sat blinking away the tears in his eyes, as Juan the houseboy brought him a steaming platter of chopped ham, eggs, and biscuits and gravy.

As he sat eating and rejoicing, he picked up the morning newspaper. He read page after page of man's cruel and vicious treatment of his fellow man. And he looked forward with anticipation to his first assignment as an assistant Weed Whacker.