ch.doublewhammy-第3章

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left　the　autopsy　table；　Dr。　Pembroke　had　worked　as　hastily　as　possible。　He　had　drawn　blood；　made　note　of　a　golf…ball…size　bruise　on　Bobby　Clinch's　skull　and；　with　something　less　than　surgical　acuity；　hacked　a　Y…shaped　incision　from　the　neck　to　the　belly。　He　had　reached　in；　grabbed　a　handful　of　lung；　and　quickly　ascertained　that　it　was　full　of　brackish　lake　water；　which　is　exactly　what　Dr。　Pembroke　wanted　to　see。　It　meant　that　Bobby　Clinch　had　drowned；　as　suspected。　Further　proof　was　the　presence　of　a　shiny　dead　minnow　in　the　right　bronchus；　indicating　that　on　the　way　down　Bobby　Clinch　had　inhaled　violently；　but　to　no　avail。　Having　determined　this；　Dr。　Pembroke　had　wasted　not　another　moment　with　the　rancid　body；　had　not　even　turned　it　over　for　a　quick　look…see　before　dragging　it　into　the　hamburger　cooler。
　The　pathologist　signed　the　death　certificate　and　handed　it　to　the　deputy。　Culver　Rundell　read　it　over　the　lawman's　shoulder　and　nodded。　〃I'll　call　Clarisse；〃　he　said；　〃then　I　gotta　hose　out　the　truck。〃
　
　The　largemouth　bass　is　the　most　popular　gamefish　in　North　America；　as　it　can　be　found　in　the　warmest　waters　of　almost　every　state。　Its　appeal　has　grown　so　astronomically　in　the　last　ten　years　that　thousands　of　bass…fishing　clubs　have　sprung　up；　and　are　swamped　with　new　members。　According　to　the　sporting…goods　industry；　more　millions　of　dollars　are　spent　to　catch　largemouth　bass　than　are　spent　on　any　other　outdoor　activity　in　the　United　States。　Bass　magazines　promote　the　species　as　the　workingman's　fish；　available　to　anyone　within　strolling　distance　of　a　lake；　river；　culvert；　reservoir；　rockpit；　or　drainage　ditch。　The　bass　is　not　picky；　it　is　hardy；　prolific；　and　on　a　given　day　will　eat　just　about　any　God…awful　lure　dragged　in　front　of　its　maw。　As　a　fighter　it　is　bullish；　but　tires　easily；　as　a　jumper　its　skills　are　admirable；　though　no　match　for　a　graceful　rainbow　trout　or　tarpon；　as　table　fare　it　is　blandly　acceptable；　even　tasty　when　properly　seasoned。　Its　astonishing　popularity　es　from　a　modest　bination　of　these　traits；　plus　the　simple　fact　that　there　are　so　many　largemouth　bass　swimming　around　that　just　about　any　damn　fool　can　catch　one。
　Its　democratic　nature　makes　the　bass　an　ideal　tournament　fish；　and　a　marketing　dream…e…true　for　the　tackle　industry。　Because　a　large…mouth　in　Seattle　is　no　different　from　its　Everglades　cousin；　expensive　bass…fishing　products　need　no　regionalization；　no　tailored　advertising。　This　is　why　hard…core　bass　fishermen　everywhere　are　outfitted　exactly　the　same；　from　their　trucks　to　their　togs　to　their　tackle。　On　any　body　of　water；　in　any　county　rural　or　urban；　the　uniform　and　arsenal　of　the　bassing　fraternity　are　unmistakable。　The　universal　mission　is　to　catch　one　of　those　freakishly　big　bass　known　as　lunkers　or　hawgs。　In　many　parts　of　the　country；　any　fish　over　five　pounds　is　considered　a　trophy；　and　it　is　not　unmon　for　the　ardent　basser　to　have　three　or　four　such　specimens　mounted　on　the　walls　of　his　home；　one　for　the　living　room；　one　for　the　den；　and　so　on。　The　geographic　range　of　truly　gargantuan　fish；　ten　to　fifteen　pounds；　is　limited　to　the　humid　Deep　South；　particularly　Georgia　and　Florida。　In　these　areas　the　quest　for　the　world's　biggest　bass　is　rabid　and　ruthless；　for　tournament　fishermen　this　is　the　big　leagues；　where　top　prize　money　for　a　two…day　event　might　equal　seventy…five　thousand　dollars。　If　the　weather　on　these　days　happens　to　be　rotten　or　the　water　too　cold；　a　dinky　four…pound　bass　might　win　the　whole　shooting　match。　More　than　likely；　though；　it　takes　a　lunker　fish　to　win　the　major　tournaments；　and　few　anglers　are　capable　of　catching　lunkers　day　in　and　day　out。
　Weekend　anglers　are　fond　of　noting　that　the　largest　bass　ever　caught　was　not　landed　by　a　tournament　fisherman。　It　was　taken　by　a　nineteen…year…old　Georgia　farm　kid　named　George　W。　Perry　at　an　oxbow　slough　called　Montgomery　Lake。　Fittingly；　young　Perry　had　never　heard　of　Lowrance　fish…finders　or　Thruster　trolling　motors　or　Fenwick　graphite　flipping　sticks。　Perry　went　out　fishing　in　a　simple　rowboat　and　took　the　only　bass　lure　he　owned；　a　beat…up　Creek　Chub。　He　went　fishing　mainly　because　his　family　was　hungry；　and　he　returned　with　a　largemouth　bass　that　weighed　twenty…two　pounds；　four　ounces。　The　year　was　1932。　Since　then；　despite　all　the　space…age　advancements　in　fish…catching　technology；　nobody　has　boated　a　bass　that　es　close　to　the　size　of　George　Perry's　trophy；　which　he　and　his　loved　ones　promptly　ate　for　dinner。　Today　an　historical　plaque　memorating　this　leviathan　largemouth　stands　on　Highway　117；　near　Lumber　City；　Georgia。　It　serves　as　a　defiant　and　nagging　challenge　to　modern　bass　fishermen　and　all　their　infernal　electronics。　Some　ichthyologists　have　been　so　bold　as　to　suggest　that　the　Monster　of　Montgomery　Lake　was　a　supremely　mutant　fish；　an　all…tackle　record　that　will　never　be　bested　by　any　angler。　To　which　Dickie　Lockhart；　in　closing　each　segment　of　Fish　Fever；　would　scrunch　up　his　eyes；　wave　a　finger　at　the　camera；　and　decree：　〃George　Perry；　next　week　your　cracker　butt　is　history！〃
　There　was　no　tournament　that　weekend；　so　Dickie　Lockhart　was　taping　a　show。　He　was　shooting　on　Lake　Kissimmee；　not　far　from　Disney　World。　The　title　of　this　particular　episode　was　〃Hawg　Hunting。〃　Dickie　needed　a　bass　over　ten　pounds；　anything　less　wasn't　a　hawg。
　As　always；　he　used　two　boats；　one　to　fish　from；　one　for　the　film　crew。　Like　most　TV　fishing…show　hosts；　Dickie　Lockhart　used　videotapes　because　they　were　cheaper　than　sixteen…millimeter；　and　reusable。　Film　was　unthinkable　for　a　bass　show　because　you　might　go　two　or　three　days　shooting　nothing　but　men　casting　their　lures　and　spitting　tobacco；　but　no　fish。　With　the　video；　a　bad　day　didn't　blow　the　whole　budget　because　you　just　backed　it　up　and　shot　again。
　Dickie　Lockhart　had　been　catching　bass　all　morning；　little　two…and　three…pounders。　He　could　guess　the　weight　as　soon　as　he　hooked　up；　then　furiously　skitter　the　poor　fish　across　the　surface　into　the　boat。　〃Goddammit；〃　he　would　shout；　〃rewind　that　sucker　and　let's　try　again。〃
　During　lulls　in　the　action；　Dickie　would　grow　tense　and　foul…mouthed。　〃e　on；　you　bucket…mouthed　bastards；〃　he'd　growl　as　he　cast　at　the　shoreline；　〃hit　this　thing　or　I'm　bringing　dynamite　tomorrow；　y'hear？〃
　Midmorning　the　wind　kicked　up；　mussing　Dickie　Lockhart's　shiny　black　hair。　〃Goddammit；〃　he　shouted；　〃stop　the　tape。〃　After　he　got　a　b　from　his　tacklebox　and　slicked　himself　down；　he　ordered　the　cameraman　to　crank　it　up　again。
　〃How　do　I　look？〃　Dickie　asked。
　〃Like　a　champ；〃　the　cameraman　said　thinly。　The　cameraman　dreamed　of　the　day　when　Dickie　Lockhart　would　get　shitfaced　drunk　and　drop　his　drawers　to　moon　his　little　ole　fishing　pals　all　across　America。　Then　Dickie　would　fall　out　of　the　boat；　as　he　often　did　after　drinking。　Afterward　the　cameraman　would　pretend　to　rewind　the　videotape　and　erase　this　sloppy　moment；　but　of　course　he　wouldn't。　He'd　save　it　and；　when　the　time　was　right；　threaten　to　send　it　to　the　sports…and…religion　network　that　syndicated　Dickie　Lockhart's　fishing　show。　Dickie　would　suddenly　bee　a　generous　fellow；　and　the　cameraman　would　finally　be　able　to　afford　to　take　his　wife　to　the　Virgin　Islands。
　Now；　with　the　tape　rolling；　Dickie　Lockhart　was　talking　man…to…man　with　the　serious　bass　angler　back　home。　Dickie's　TV　accent　was　much　thicker　and　gooier　than　his　real…life　accent；　an　exaggeration　that　was　necessary　to　meet　the　demographic　of　the　show；　which　was　basically　male　Deep　Southern　grit…suckers。　As　he　cast　his　lure　and　reeled　it　in；　Dickie　Lockhart　would　confide　exactly　what　brand　of　crankbait　he　was　using；　what　pound　line　was　on　the　reel；　what　kind　of　sunglasses　（amber　or　green）　worked　better　on　a　bright　day。　The　patter　carried　an　air　of　informality　and　friendliness；　when　in　fact　the　point　was　to　shill　as　many　of　Dickie　Lockhart's　sponsors'　products　as　possible　in　twenty…four　minutes　of　live　tape。　The　crankbait　was　made　by　Bagley；　the　line　by　Du　Pont；　the　reel　by　Shimano；　the　sunglasses　by　Polaroid；　and　so　on。　Somehow；　when　Dickie　stared　into　the　camera　and　dropped　these　bald…faced　plugs；　it　didn't　seem　so　cheap。
　At　about　noon　a　third　bass　boat　raced　up　to　the　fishing　spot；　and　Dickie　started　hollering　like　a　madman。　〃Goddammit；　stop　the　tape！　Stop　the　tape！〃　He　hopped　up　and　down　on　the　bow　and　shook　his　fist　at　the　man　in　the　other　boat。　〃Hey；　can't　you　see　we're　filming　a　goddamn　TV　show　here？　You　got　the　whole　frigging　lake　but　you　gotta　stop　here　and　wreck　the　tape！〃　Then　he　saw　that　the　other　angler　was　Ozzie　Rundell；　Culver's　brother；　so　Dickie　stopped　shouting。　He　didn't　apologize；　but　he　did　pipe　down。
　〃Didn't　mean　to　interrupt；〃　Ozzie　said。　He　was　a　mumbler。　Dickie　Lockhart　told　him　to　speak　up。
　〃Didn't　mean　to　interrupt！〃　Ozzie　said；　a　bit　louder。　In　his　entire　life　he　had　never　boated　a　bass　over　four　pounds；　and　was　in　awe　of　Dickie　Lockhart。
　〃Well？〃　Dickie　said。
　〃I　thought　you'd　want　to　know。〃
　Dickie　shook　his　head。　He　kicked　a　button　on　the　bow　and　used　the　trolling　motor　to　steer　his　boat　closer　to　Ozzie's。　When　the　two　were　side　by　side；　Dickie　said　impatiently；　〃Now　start　over。〃
　〃I　thought　you'd　want　to　know。　They　found　Bobby　Clinch。〃
　〃Where？〃
　〃Dead。〃
　Ozzie　would　get　around　to　answering　the　questions；　but　not　in　the　order　he　was　asked。　His　mind　worked　that　way。
　〃How？〃　Dickie　said。
　〃In　Lake　Harney。〃
　〃When？〃
　〃Flipped　his　boat　and　drowned；〃　Ozzie　said。
　〃Goddamn；〃　said　Dickie　Lockhart。　〃I'm　sorry。〃
　〃Yesterday；〃　Ozzie　said　in　conclusion。
　Dickie　turned　to　the　cameraman　and　said；　〃Well；　that's　it　for　the　day。〃
　Ozzie　seemed　thrilled　just　to　be　able　to　touch　the　deck　of　the　champion's　boat。　He　gazed　at　Dickie　Lockhart's　fishing　gear　the　way　a　Little　Leaguer　might　stare　at　Ted　Williams'　bat。　〃Well；　sorry　to　interrupt；〃　he　mumbled。
　〃Don't　worry　about　it；〃　Dickie　Lockhart　said。　〃They　stopped　biting　two　hours　ago。〃
　〃What　plug　you　usin'？〃　Ozzie　inquired。
　〃My　special　baby；〃　Dickie　said；　〃the　Double　Whammy。〃
　The　Double　Whammy　was　the　hottest　lure　on　the　pro　bass　circuit；　thanks　in　large　measure　to　Dickie　Lockhart。　For　the　last　eight　tournaments　he'd　won；　Dickie　had　declared　it　was　the　amazing　Double　Whammy　that　had　tricked　the　trophy　fish。　His　phenomenal　success　with　the　lure…a　skirted　spinnerbait　with　twin　silver　spoons…had　not　been　duplicated　by　any　other　professional　angler；　though　all　had　tried；　filling　their　tackleboxes　with　elaborate　variations　and　imitations。　Most　of　the　bassers　caught　big　fish　on　the　Double　Whammy；　but　none　caught　as　many；　or　at　such　opportune　times；　as　Dickie　Lockhart。
　〃It's　a　real　killer；　huh？〃　Ozzie　said。
　〃You　betcha；〃　Dickie　said。　He　took　the　fishing　line　in　his　front　teeth　and　bit　through；　freeing　the　jangling　lure。　〃You　want　it？〃　he　asked。
　Ozzie　Rundell　beamed　like　a　kid　on　Christmas　morning。　〃Shoot　yeah！〃
　Dickie　Lockhart　tossed　the　lure　toward　Ozzie's　boat。　In　his　giddiness　Ozzie　actually　tried　to　catch　the　thing　in　his　bare　hands。　He　missed；　of　course；　and　the　Double　Whammy　embedded　its　needle…sharp　hook　firmly　in　the　poor　man's　cheek。　Ozzie　didn't　seem　to　feel　a　thing；　didn't　seem　to　notice　the　blood　dripping　down　his　jawline。
　〃Thanks！〃　he　shouted　as　Dickie　Lockhart　started　up　his　boat。　〃Thanks　a　mill