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ted malice might have been enough； but the Rundells remained doubtful。 Culver in particular suspected revenge； or a plot hatched by one of Dickie Lockhart's jealous petitors。 In the world of professional bassing it was well known that the Rundell brothers were the most loyal of Dickie's retinue； and in Culver's mind it made them likely targets。
If Culver were outwardly angry about the destruction of their prized fishing boat； Ozzie seemed more wounded and perplexed。 He was particularly incredulous that Skink would mit such an atrocity against them for no apparent reason。 In the ten…odd years since the shaggy woodsman had e to live on Lake Jesup； Ozzie had probably not exchanged a half…dozen words with him。 On the rare occasions when Skink came to town； he purchased lumber and dry goods and used books from the Faith Farm…or so Mrs。 Coot Hough had gossiped…but never once had he e into the bait shop for tackle or lures （though he was reputed to be an expert angler）。 Ozzie's only close encounters with the man were the many times he'd had to swerve to avoid the crouched figure plucking animal carcasses off the Gilchrist Highway or Route 222。 Nearly all the citizenry of Harney had occasionally e across Skink and his fresh roadkills； and the general assumption was that he ate the dead critters； though no one could say for a fact。 The only person known to have a friendly relationship with Skink was Trooper Jim Tile of the state highway patrol。 Occasionally fishermen out on Lake Jesup would see Jim Tile sitting at Skink's campfire； but none of them knew the trooper well enough to ask about it。 Actually no one in Harney； not even the blacks； knew Jim Tile much better than they knew Skink。
Which was why Ozzie was so stunned to hear his brother announce that they would visit the trooper as soon as they got home。
〃We'll get some answers out of that nigger；〃 Culver said。
〃I don't know；〃 Ozzie mumbled。 He wasn't keen on confrontations。 Neither was Culver； usually； but Dickie's murder had set him on edge。 He was talking big and mean； the way he sometimes did after drinking。
Ozzie Rundell had a perfectly good reason for not wanting to see Jim Tile face…to…face： Jim Tile had been out at Morgan Slough the night Ott Pickney was killed； the night Ozzie was driving Tom Curl's truck。 As they were speeding out from the trail； Ozzie had spotted the trooper on foot。 What he didn't know was whether or not Jim Tile had spotted him too。 Ozzie had assumed not； since nothing terrible had happened in the days that followed； but he didn't want to press his meager luck。 He felt he should explain to his brother the risks of visiting Jim Tile； but as usual the words wouldn't e out。 The day after the newsman's death； Ozzie had assured Culver that everything had gone smoothly at the slough； and hadn't mentioned the black trooper。 If Ozzie revealed the truth now； Culver would be furious； and Ozzie was in no mood to get yelled at。 The closest thing to a protest he could muster was： 〃A trooper is the law。 Even a nigger trooper。〃
Culver scowled and said； 〃We'll see about that。〃
Jim Tile lived alone in a two…bedroom apartment on Washington Drive； in the black neighborhood of Harney。 He had been married for three years until his wife had gone off to Atlanta to bee a big…time fashion model。 Jim Tile could have gone with her； since he had been offered an excellent job with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation； but he had chosen to stay with the highway patrol in Florida。 His loyalty had been rewarded with a protracted tour of duty in the most backward…thinking and racist county in the state。 To stop a car for speeding in Harney was to automatically invite a disgusting torrent of verbal abuse…the whites hated Jim Tile because he was black； and the blacks hated him for doing a honky's job。 Rough words were expected； and occasionally somebody would sneak up and cut the tires on his patrol car late at night； but it seldom went any further。 In all the years only one person had been foolhardy enough to try to fight Trooper Jim Tile。 The boy's name was Dekle； and he was eighteen； as big and white as a Frigidaire； and just about as intelligent。 Dekle had been doing seventy in a school zone and had run down a kitten before Jim Tile caught up and forced him off the road。 At the time Jim Tile was new to Harney； and the Dekle boy remarked how he had never seen a chocolate state trooper before。 Now you have； said Jim Tile； so turn around and put your hands on the roof of the car。 At which point Dekle punched Jim Tile with all his strength and was astounded to see the trooper merely rock back slightly on his heels； when any other human being would have fallen flat on his back； out cold。 The fight did not last long； perhaps thirty seconds； and years afterward Dekle's right arm still hung like a corkscrew and he still got around with the aid of a special Lucite cane； which his mother had purchased from a mail…order house in Tampa。 Even in a place where there was no shortage of booze or stupidity； no one in Harney had since gotten drunk enough or dumb enough to take a poke at the black trooper。 Most folks； including Ozzie Rundell； wouldn't consider giving the man any lip。
They found the apartment on Washington Drive easily； Jim Tile's black…and…tan Ford police cruiser was out front。
Culver parked his mother's truck。 He got a pistol from under the front seat and tucked it into the back of his dungarees。
〃What's that for？〃 Ozzie asked worriedly。
〃It's a bad neighborhood； Oz。〃
〃I ain't going in there with a gun；〃 Ozzie said in a brittle voice。 〃I ain't！〃
〃Fine；〃 Culver said。 〃You sit out here in the parking lot with all these jigaboos。 I'm sure they'll love the prospect of a fat little cracker boy like you。〃
Ozzie looked around and knew that his brother was right。 The streets were full of black faces； including some frightfully muscular teenagers slam…dunking basketballs through a rusty hoop nailed to a telephone pole。 Ozzie decided he didn't want to stay in the truck after all。 He followed Culver up to Jim Tile's apartment。
The trooper was finishing dinner； and getting ready to go out on the night shift。 He came to the door wearing the gray； sharply pressed trousers of his uniform； but no shirt。 The Rundell brothers were awestruck by the dimensions of his chest and arms。
After stammering for a second； Culver finally said； 〃We need to talk about the guy lives up on the lake。〃
〃Our boat got sunk；〃 Ozzie warbled； without explanation。
Jim Tile let them in； motioned toward two chairs at the dinette。 The Rundell brothers sat down。
〃Skink is his name； right？〃 Culver said。
〃What's the connection；〃 Jim Tile asked mildly； 〃between the man on the lake and your boat？〃
Ozzie started to say something； got lost； and looked to his brother for help。 Culver said； 〃We heard Mr。 Skink is the one who sunked it。〃
Jim Tile said； 〃Well； Mr。 Skink is out of town。〃
〃It happened out of town；〃 Culver said。 〃At a tournament up in Louisiana。〃
〃Did you go to the police？〃 Jim Tile asked。
〃Not yet；〃 Culver said。 He had wanted to； but Thomas Curl had said it was a bad idea。 He said the police would be busy with Dickie's murder； and it wouldn't be right to bother them over a bass boat。 Besides； the boat had been recovered out of the water； and it was Thomas Curl's opinion that it could be repaired。 Ozzie said great； but Culver didn't like the idea。 Culver wanted a brand…new boat； and he wanted the man named Skink to buy it for him。
〃Well； if you haven't talked to the police in Louisiana； then I suggest you do；〃 Jim Tile said。 〃Once there's a warrant； one of Sheriff Lockhart's deputies can go out to Lake Jesup and arrest him。〃
Culver Rundell doubted if Sheriff Barley Lockhart was much interested in a boat theft； not with his famous nephew turning up murdered in Louisiana。 Barley had caught a flight to New Orleans two days after the killing； and had not yet returned。 Before leaving； the sheriff dramatically informed the Harney Sentinel that his presence had been requested to assist in the homicide investigation； but in reality the Louisiana authorities merely wanted somebody to acpany Dickie's autopsied body back to Florida。
〃It's a jurisdictional problem；〃 Trooper Jim Tile said to the Rundell brothers。 〃I really can't help。〃
〃You can take us to see Mr。 Skink；〃 Culver said。
〃Why？ You know where he lives…drive out there yourself。〃
To Ozzie's ear； Jim Tile's response sounded as close to a definite no as you could get。 But Culver wasn't giving up。
〃No way；〃 Culver said。 〃I heard he's got a big gun； shoots at people just for the fun of it。 He doesn't know me or my brother； and he might just open fire if we was to drive up unannounced。 You； he knows。 Even if he's crazy as they say； he won't shoot a damn police car。〃
The low； even tone of Jim Tile's voice did not change。 〃I told you； he's out of town。〃
〃Well； let's go see。〃
〃No；〃 said Jim Tile； rising。 〃I have to go to work。〃
〃Momma's truck；〃 Ozzie blurted。 〃Maybe we oughta go； Culver。〃
Annoyed； Culver glanced at his brother。 〃What are you talking about？〃
〃I'm worried about Momma's truck out there。 Maybe we should go…〃
〃The truck'll be fine；〃 Culver said。
〃I don't know；〃 Ji