DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. If you are offended by 
sexually explicit material or are under the age of 18, stop reading 
now. This material cannot be reproduced for commercial purposes 
without the consent of the author.

JC: Ed Biggers
Part 2: Equilibrant
Chapter 4
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2004

Ed walked into the bar of the hotel. This was a working class hotel 
and had a bar that was appropriate for such an establishment. It 
reminded Ed of Shirley's back home. After looking at some of the 
characters seated at tables around the bar, he took a seat at the 
counter. The woman behind the counter looked at him with 
disinterest. After taking in his cowboy outfit, she asked, "Shot and 
a beer?"

"Coke," answered Ed. 

Raising an eyebrow, she poured a coke and set it on the bar in front 
of Ed. In the two years she had been working here, this was the 
first time anyone had just ordered a coke. She asked, "You don't 
drink?"

"That's right. I learned that I was a mean bastard when I drank. 
Decided that I would rather be sober and a nice guy." Ed looked 
around the room and wondered how long it would be before 
someone would try to buy him a drink.

Noticing how he looked around the room, she said, "You might 
want to go over to the restaurant to get your cokes. These guys will 
eat you alive."

Laughing, Ed answered, "I'm not worried. The cat will take care of 
anyone that tries to eat me."

The barmaid looked over the counter and saw the Bobcat for the 
first time. Looking up at Ed with wide eyes, she said, "Is that what 
I think it is?"

"Yes, Tiger is a wild Bobcat. He followed me here," said Ed. Of 
course, he didn't mention that the cat was one of three that had 
been following him around ever since the time John had been 
attacked at the house. He had no idea how the cats decided which 
cat was to go with whom, but he was pleased that it was Tiger this 
trip. He had gotten rather fond of the cat.

"Followed you?" She was fascinated by the cat sitting next to Ed. 

"Yes," replied Ed after taking a sip of the coke. 

A man came over to where Ed was seated and asked, "What's that 
you're drinkin?"

"A coke. It is a carbonated beverage made by the Coca-Cola 
bottling company and is distributed around the country," replied 
Ed. Since he had expected this to happen, he was a little better 
prepared than the last time. Hopefully this time he wouldn't have to 
hurt the guy.

The man said, "Let me buy you a man's drink."

Ed said, "I think not. I'm afraid to drink."

"Afraid to drink?" asked the man. He was about to turn around and 
make a joke at Ed's expense. The fun was about to begin.

Before the man had a chance to say a word, Ed said, "You see. I 
don't think my cat is particularly fond of drunks."

Sensing an opportunity for even more fun, the man looked at Ed 
and sneered, "You're a regular little cat lover?"

Tiger jumped up on the bar and faced the man. Its ears were folded 
back and it showed its fangs. Shaking his head, Ed said, "I think 
you insulted my cat. You might want to apologize before it rips 
your throat out. I've seen it do that once before and it was very 
messy."

Staring at the cat, the man backed off a bit. He glanced at Ed, 
noticing the intense look on his face. It felt like Ed was looking 
through him, examining each and every secret. When his eyes 
flicked to the cat, he saw that it was shaking its rear end like it was 
about to pounce. Ed said, "His name is Tiger. I'd apologize very 
quickly if I were you."

"I'm sorry, Tiger. I didn't mean anything bad," said the man as he 
backed further away from the bar. 

The cat slowly relaxed, but kept its eyes on the man. With the 
negligent attitude that only a cat can achieve, the cat licked a paw 
as the claws on it extended. Reaching over, Ed petted the cat and 
looked over at the man. He said, "It looks like he accepted your 
apology. Now, I believe you were saying something to me."

Sweating, the man answered, "It was nothing. Drinking a coke is 
perfectly fine."

Smiling in a friendly fashion, Ed said, "Would you like to pull up a 
chair and join me in a coke?"

The man slowly shook his head and answered, "I'll just go back 
and join my friends."

"Okay," replied Ed as he watched the man return to his friends 
across the bar. Turning to look at the barmaid, he said, "That went 
pretty well. The last time that happened, I almost broke a guy's 
nose before he backed off."

Tiger jumped off the bar and returned to the spot near Ed's feet. As 
if nothing had happened, the cat curled up and rested. The barmaid 
looked over the counter at the bar. Surprised at the behavior of the 
cat, she said, "Wow, that was amazing."

Looking at her, Ed asked, "Is this your place?"

"Nah, it belongs to the owner of the hotel. I just work here," 
replied the woman. She looked around the bar with disinterest. She 
wanted to leave because the pay was very low, but in a small town 
like this there weren't many jobs she could take. 

Shaking his head at what that implied, Ed said, "I bet the tips here 
are pretty bad."

"Tell me about it. These guys don't know how to tip worth a 
damn," she replied as she shot a look across the room. The tips in 
most of the places around town were usually pretty bad. She 
added, "Most of them think that a quarter is a good tip."

In a voice loud enough to carry through the room, Ed said, "You 
know. A quarter is an insulting tip. Any one that leaves a quarter as 
a tip must not know that a minimum tip should be a dollar or 
fifteen percent, which ever is greater.  If the service is good, it 
should be twenty percent. After a quarter tip, I'd quit serving the 
bastard."

Winking at the barmaid, he returned to a normal speaking voice as 
he said, "That should help a little. How much do I owe you?"

Laughing at the nerve of this guy, she said, "A coke is a dollar, but 
this one is on the house."

"Here's two dollars. I'm on an expense account," replied Ed. He 
pulled out two dollars and left it on the bar. As he started to leave 
the bar, he paused and said, "As I'm leaving, say in an excited 
voice that I just left you a dollar tip on a dollar tab. Remind them 
what it means to get a good tip."

She smiled at him as he left the bar. As he left the bar, he could 
hear her make a statement about his tip. After the run in earlier, he 
imagined that she would be getting good tips all evening. 

Padding along side Ed, Tiger ignored the commotion that his 
presence created among other people in the hotel lobby. It was 
about dinner time and Ed headed over to the restaurant to eat. He 
had hoped to eat in a booth, but this particular place didn't have 
any booths. Following the waitress, he was led to a table near the 
corner. 

The table gave him a good view of the entire restaurant. With the 
cat under the table, it didn't create too much of a stir. He looked 
around the room taking in the variety of people seated at the tables. 
There were a couple of elderly couples, some that looked like they 
still loved each other and others that looked like they barely 
tolerated each other. 

Glancing over the menu, Ed considered trying the trout, but 
changed his mind and went with an elk steak. In a way, it made 
sense that a small town in Montana would have game on the menu. 
Waiting for the waitress to arrive at the table, he looked over at the 
man seated at the table next to his. The man was large, built like a 
bear with a short very bushy beard. He didn't give the appearance 
of an obese man, but of a very large framed man. His large fingers 
punched buttons on a calculator as he went over figures on the 
page in front of him. 

After a long delay, the waitress finally came over to the table and 
asked, "So what will you have?"

Smiling at the waitress, Ed replied, "I'll have the Elk steak medium 
well, thousand island dressing on the salad, brussel sprouts, baked 
potato with butter no sour cream, and an iced tea."

Surprised at the completeness of the order, the waitress quickly 
wrote down the whole order. She asked, "Anything else?"

Tiger nudged his foot, reminding him that there were two at the 
table. Embarrassed at having forgotten about the cat, Ed said, "I'll 
have two elk steaks raw on a plate with no sides."

Shocked, the waitress stared at Ed wondering what could motivate 
someone to make such an order. For a moment, she wondered if he 
was a food inspector. Observing the look on her face, he said, "My 
cat is under the table and the meat is for him."

Almost tripping over herself backing up when she spotted the cat, 
the waitress stared at the animal. Terrified of the animal, the 
waitress could hardly control herself. Stuttering, she said, "That's a 
Bobcat!"

"Yes, Tiger is a Bobcat," replied Ed. He looked under the table at 
the cat and would have sworn the cat winked at him. It rolled over 
onto its back and wiggled as though scratching its back on the 
floor. 

Still staring at the cat, the waitress smiled and said, "Isn't that 
cute?"

Having a lot of experience with the cats, Ed wasn't surprised that it 
knew how to turn on the charm. He said, "You can pet it, if you 
would like."

Even as he said the words, the cat rolled over and slowly came out 
from under the table. The waitress knelt down to pet the cat. Her 
fear of the cat was quickly dispelled by the cat's apparent begging 
for attention. Looking up at Ed with a smile on her face, she said, 
"He's just adorable."

Smiling to himself, he wondered how she would have reacted to 
Rover. If any cat could beg attention or make social comment, then 
it was Rover. He had observed in the past, that in a crowd of 
people a cat will select the one person that doesn't really like cats 
to torment the entire time with attention. These big cats weren't 
any different. The person that wanted to pretend like the cat wasn't 
there was liable to find a hundred and sixty pound cougar lying 
across their feet. Ed smiled, "Yes, he can be quite adorable."

After a lot more attention to the cat than to Ed, the waitress finally 
left the table to submit the order. The cat returned to its position 
under the table. Ed settled back to watch people, a past time that he 
had only recently adopted. An oath from the table next to him 
caused him to look at the man at the table. The man threw himself 
back in his chair, threw a pencil at the table, and, in an angry tone 
of voice, said, "I just can't find it."

Looking at the papers on the table, it felt like a hot knife had been 
thrust into his brain. For the first time, he discovered that his truth 
sense was sensitive to the written word. He couldn't even read 
what was on the papers, but it was clearly false. This was 
something that he had to respond against or he would suffer from a 
headache for the rest of the night. He cleared his throat and said, "I 
can help you."

The man looked at Ed and said, "I'm sorry, but these are private 
files."

Shuddering at the rejection, Ed stood up and went to the table. 
Picking up the pencil from where it had landed, he grabbed the 
least offensive page and put an X next to the row that screamed out 
that the entry was a lie. As he set the page aside, he said, "That's 
the only entry that is a lie on that page."

He picked up another page and without even looking at what was 
on it started making X marks at several points. He dropped the 
page in front of the man and said, "Those entries are lies."

The large man stared at the entries that Ed had marked as lies. 
Those were exactly the entries that he had suspected, but had been 
unable to prove were wrong. Ed picked up another stack of papers 
and started marking entries. The man stared at the Ed and the 
speed with which he was marking the entries. His mouth dropped 
open, when Ed picked up the third stack of papers and pulled out 
ten forms. He put an X at the top of the form and, as he set them in 
front of the large man, he said, "These forms are totally 
fraudulent."

The man looked at the ten tax fillings of employees that worked at 
the company in surprise. He looked up and asked, "What do you 
mean they are totally fraudulent?"

Ed looked at the form more closely and realized what they were. 
He answered, "The people don't exist."

A smile broke over the face of the large man as he looked at the 
forms in front of him. After mentally adding up the wages declared 
on the falsified forms, he realized that the amount of money was 
significant and this guy was cheating big time. The tips that his 
office had received were correct. He looked up at the cowboy 
standing in front of him, realizing this guy had just given him his 
case if what he had marked was accurate. Extending a hand, he 
said, "My name is Stan Bentley."

Taking his hand, Ed replied, "Nice to meet you Stan. I'm Ed 
Biggers."

Stan said, "It's going to take me a little time to put this all together, 
but you've really helped out here."

Rubbing his temples as the headache slowly abated, Ed replied, 
"Glad to be of service. To tell the truth, I found the lies on those 
papers so offensive, that I had to act."

The delivery of his food to his table interrupted the discussion. 
Slipping the plate with the two raw steaks under the table for 
Tiger, Ed then settled back in his chair and started eating. The Elk 
steak had a slightly different flavor from venison and from beef. 
He would be hard pressed to describe the flavor to someone else.

The lack of Broccoli and thick French Fries was a special treat. He 
wondered how long it had been since he was able to select the side 
vegetables at a restaurant and couldn't remember. Checking under 
the table, he saw that Tiger was ripping into the Elk steaks with 
great delight. 

When he finished his meal, Ed looked over at Stan. The large man 
was sitting back with a huge smile on his face. The items that Ed 
had checked formed a clear pattern of tax fraud. By having ten 
dummy employees in his company, each of whom earned very 
little money and hence paid very little taxes, he was able to double 
his income with almost no taxes paid on it. He was also able to 
write off the money paid to them by the company. This lowered 
the taxes paid by the company as well. 

Stan noticed the attention and said, "You cracked this case wide 
open. I'll be able to track back and see how long he has been doing 
this. He's probably escaped paying taxes on a million dollars."

Nodding, Ed said, "I assume you work for the IRS."

"You assume correctly," replied Stan. He was waiting for Ed to 
back off like most folks when they discovered that he was an IRS 
agent. 

Instead of reacting negatively, Ed thought about it quietly for a 
minute and said, "My family is having some problems with 
organized crime. My husband is an FBI agent and is working with 
the FBI to help close down several crime families. The IRS is 
working with him on this case, but I'd like to contribute a little 
more directly."

There were so many things in Ed's statement that rocked Stan, that 
it was hard to know where to begin asking questions. Stan asked, 
"You're family is having problems with organized crime?"

Nodding, Ed answered, "Yes. After John help shut down the white 
slavery ring, some of the former customers appear to have 
contracted with several organized crime families to have him 
assassinated."

Once again, the amount of information given him was almost too 
much to process. Suspecting that he knew who John was, he 
sought clarification by asking, "John Who?"

"John Carter," replied Ed. He added, "You might have heard of 
him."

"Oh, yes. He invented the fusion battery, right?"

"Yes, he did that too. Ever since then, we've had to go to the IRS to 
have our taxes calculated. After years of filling out the 1040-EZ, I 
now have to file quarterly," replied Ed. He added, "I don't mind 
paying the taxes, but I hate all of those forms."

Sitting back, Stan realized that he was talking to a celebrity of a 
sort. John Carter was well known in government agencies. Now 
that he thought about it, this guy Ed had been a part of a number of 
those stories. After seeing how Ed had gone through the papers 
like a dervish, he could understand how they had gained the 
reputation. He said, "I seem to recall that you've been involved in a 
couple of episodes with the FBI."

Nodding without enthusiasm, Ed answered, "Yes, but my role was 
very minor. However, I'd like to take a bigger role in taking down 
organized crime members."

Sitting back, Stan realized that Ed could be a real asset to the 
Treasury Department. In five minutes, he had identified how this 
guy had been embezzling money from his company and cheating 
on his taxes. He was thinking about how many of the major 
organized crime figures were taken out for taxes rather than major 
crimes. Stan said, "Are you asking what I think you're asking?"

Nodding, Ed answered, "Yes, but it would have to be on the same 
terms that John has with the FBI."

"What terms are those?"

Leaning forward with his piercing eyes locked on Stan, Ed replied, 
"I pick the cases, contribute how I can, and then leave when I feel 
my role is over."

The intensity of Ed's gaze froze Stan in his seat. It took Stan a 
moment to collect himself, but he finally said, "You'll need to 
prove yourself before I will make the recommendation."

That seemed fair to Ed although he wasn't sure how he could prove 
himself.  He could feel the hand of the Two-Sided one pushing him 
forward. Unable to resist, he replied, "No problem. I have to 
collect some samples here from a couple of the mines and then my 
work here is done. I can spare a day to help you out."

A couple of days later, Tiger followed Ed as Ed followed Stan into 
the Billings Office of the IRS. As they walked down the isle 
between desks, Ed would occasionally stop and pull out a file from 
an inbox. Stan watched him with concern as other agents started to 
protest. Ed was having difficulty even holding the files, his truth 
sense started to give him a head ache. Suddenly, it was Ed leading 
Stan followed by Tiger through the office. A number of other 
agents followed after with the purpose of protesting this random 
grabbing of files, but kept their distance after glimpsing the 
Bobcat. 

On reaching a conference room, Ed entered and sat down at the 
first chair he encountered. The stress that he was feeling showed in 
his posture and face. A palpable tension filled the room as he 
paused. He held up a hand and said, "I need something to write 
with."

Stan put a pen in Ed's hand. Without comment, Ed bent over and 
opened the first folder. He raced through the pages of forms, 
marking lines with an X when his truth sense screamed lie. It took 
him two minutes to go through the entire folder. Handing the 
folder to one of the other agents, he said, "Each line with an X is a 
lie."

He went through the each of the folders with the same speed. In 
less than fifteen minutes he had marked each page and handed the 
folders to an IRS agent. Once he was done, he sat there rubbing his 
temples as the headache created by looking at the lies on the page 
started to abate. Now that the lies were exposed, the discomfort the 
files caused disappeared.  Taking a deep breath, Ed sat back and 
said, "Well, that's it. If you look through those files, you'll see that 
these are people that intentionally tried to cheat. Most of the other 
files on the desks may have errors, but they are honest errors rather 
than attempts to defraud the government. If you'll take my advice, 
you'll be gentle with the folks out there."

Stan opened the file that was in his hand. This file belonged to a 
very wealthy individual and if he were hiding money, then it was 
going to be a large amount of money. Other agents were staring at 
the files Ed had marked. To the untrained eye, what Ed had marked 
was meaningless. To these individuals, what Ed had done was 
pinpoint where the fraud had occurred and exactly how they had 
done it. In less than half an hour, Ed had cleared out more than a 
three months of work.

Nodding, Stan said, "If you will excuse me, I'll go and talk to the 
people that can make the arrangements for you to join our team. 
I'm sure that your conditions will be met."

Watching Stan leave the conference room, Ed turned to the other 
agents and said, "Sorry about the unorthodox way in which I 
grabbed your work, it's just that I was driven to it. By the way, 
allow me to introduce myself. I'm Ed Biggers."

One of the agents looked up from his file and said, "No problem. 
You just saved me a bunch of work. I've been putting this off 
because I knew it was going to take me a lot of time to work 
through it."

The rest of the agents cleared the conference room, noses buried in 
the files that Ed had handed to them. Alone for the moment, Ed 
thought about what this would mean. It could give him access to 
the financial records of organized crime figures. He was curious 
what John would say about it and then realized that the Two-Sided 
One had promised him a gift that would help protect John. He 
looked up at the sky and said, "You're a sly one."

It was almost an hour before Stan returned to the room. He looked 
over at Ed and said, "You have some friends in very high places."

Surprised, Ed asked, "Who?"

"Several Deputy Directors of the FBI, the Director of the FBI, a 
couple of Senators, and, some folks I don't even know who they 
are. Anyway, it only took fifteen minutes for the request to reach 
its way to the top of the IRS. You're now a Special Agent of the 
IRS under the terms you had stated. You'll answer to Deana 
Ahlberg. She's the Chief for the Criminal Investigation section of 
the IRS."

"Diana Ahlberg?" asked Ed not quite sure that he understood the 
name correctly. 

"No, it's Deana Ahlberg."

"Okay, I'll remember that," replied Ed. 

Stan said, "You'll need to stay here. She wants to talk to you, so 
she's going to call at the top of the hour."

The two men sat around the conference table talking about how 
being an IRS agent tended to chase other people away. This was 
nothing new for Ed since his gift from the Two-Sided One tended 
to make people nervous. The lack of response about the negatives 
of the job raised Stan's curiosity. He asked, "So what is really 
driving you to do this?" 

Looking directly at Stan, Ed answered, "I am a Druid. This is part 
of my service to the Two-Sided One."

"Who's this Two-Sided One?" asked Stan wondering if he was in 
the presence of a religious nut.

"He's one of the Gods and Goddesses," replied Ed. He thought for 
a moment and then said, "Well, actually he is both a God and a 
Goddess. That is why he's called the Two-Sided One."

This particular subject was making Stan wonder what kind of guy 
with whom he was dealing. The telephone rang and Stan answered 
using the speaker phone functionality. He answered, "IRS, Stan 
Bentley speaking."

From the other end, a woman's voice replied, "This is Chief Deana 
Ahlberg. Stan, will do you something for me?"

Surprised at the request, Stan replied, "Yes, ma'am."

Deana ordered, "Ed, show the symbol of your service to Stan."

Reluctantly, Ed reached under his shirt and pulled out the 
Medallion. While Stan stared at the Medallion in confusion, Ed 
returned it to its normal place under his shirt. Deana asked, 
"Describe what he showed you."

Stan said, "It was a gold medallion on a chain."

After a moment of silence, in a voice that conveyed awe, she said, 
"So it is true. He is a Druid."

That statement shocked Stan more than anything he had heard. He 
had been wondering about Ed being a Druid in terms of being a 
religious fanatic. Hearing the head of the investigative branch of 
the IRS speak of it in awe, made him reassess his opinion.

Ed replied, "Yes, I am a Druid. I take it you've heard of us."

"I just got off the phone after a nice long conversation with the 
director of the FBI. Mike Holden didn't know that you had become 
a Druid, but he said that if you had the Medallion, I should give 
you a free hand," said Deana. 

Hearing a sour tone in her voice, Ed said, "That's not the first time 
you've heard of the Druids."

There was an uneasy pause in the conversation as Deana realized 
that Ed had caught her telling a lie. Stan had told her that Ed 
considered himself to be a human lie detector, but she hadn't 
believed him. Clearing her throat, she replied, "I'd rather not 
discuss that. It is not relevant."

Again her voice had turned sour. Ed countered, "Quit lying to me. 
It is relevant and you know it. Which Druid affected you so?"

There was a long moment of silence, during which Stan gestured 
wildly for Ed to drop the subject. Finally, Deana said, "Sean was a 
childhood friend of my son. Such a lovely young man, so full of 
promise. He became a Druid and was murdered in a gangland 
slaying."

Ed answered, "John Carter and I are going after his killers. So are 
twenty other Druids."

Embarrassed to admit that she was motivated by personal reasons, 
Deana said, "I know. That is why I agreed to your terms. Stan will 
get the paperwork filled out and a badge issued for you. I expect 
the next time that we talk you will have captured the bastards. You 
can expect complete support from the Phoenix office."

"Thank you," answered Ed.

With a very short goodbye, Deana hung up the phone. Stan turned 
to look at Ed in wonder. If anyone had told him that someone 
could treat the head of the IRS in that fashion, he would have 
called them a liar. Slightly intimidated, he asked, "Do you always 
treat people like that?"

"Like how?" asked Ed in surprise. He hadn't realized he was 
treating her special in any particular fashion.

"You called her a liar."

Shrugging his shoulders, Ed replied, "Well, she was lying to me."

They went through the process of creating the appropriate ID for 
Ed. Tiger, unlike how Rover had behaved, was not interested in the 
process at all. Looking down at the cat, Ed asked, "So do you want 
one too?"

In answer, the cat left the room. Laughing, Ed turned around and 
watched as Stan created the ID card and found a badge. Ed slipped 
them into his pocket and looked around for a moment. He asked, 
"Are we done?"

"Yes, we are."

Heading towards the door, Ed said, "I better go, I've got a two and 
a half day drive ahead of me."

Stan watched as Ed turned and left with the cat following behind 
him. When Ed left the building, one of the other agents came up to 
Stan and asked, "Who was that guy?"

The entire time Stan had been dealing with Ed, the man kept 
surprising him. His first impression was that he was dealing with 
some kind of hick cowboy. From that, his impression of the man 
had changed from cowboy to psychic to religious fanatic to just 
confusion. Stan replied, "I don't know."
