The Lesson of Her Death

our ass. We gotta give ’em somebody. I mean, shit.”
    “And you’re thinking somebody from New Lebanon, I know you are.” Cooper hawked and cleared his mouth with a thick napkin.
    “Naw, naw, don’t matter to me. If we pick a county man and I make the announcement then it looks good for me. If he’s town and you make the announcement it’s good for you. You know, like, it hurts us to do it but we’re cleaning out our own. No cover-up.”
    “I didn’t think of that.” Cooper relaxed then added, “What about that Mahoney?”
    “What about him?”
    “Corde copied me on this letter he sent the Missouri AG. He wants Mahoney’s nuts, Corde does. Whoa, Ribbon’s got a feather in his ass over that, I’ll tell you.”
    “What’s the point?”
    Cooper said, “Mahoney shouldn’t’ve even been on the case. He’s a civilian.”
    “Well.” Treadle guffawed. “I don’t give a shit about Mahoney. What’s done’s done. Things like Mahoney fall through the cracks and that’s the way of the world.”
    “What’s the options? Who bites the big one?”
    “There’s Ellison,” Treadle offered casually, stating the obvious. “Then there’s Ribbon. But if it’s somebody too high up it’ll look bad for us—like you and me weren’t enough in charge.”
    Cooper said, “We had a couple county deputies working on the case, And Bill Corde was running the investigation for a while.”
    “Corde’s a smart guy and he, he …” Treadle stammered as he groped for a thought.
    “Found this new witness.”
    “He found this witness,” Treadle agreed. “And he …”
    “He doesn’t take any crap,” Cooper offered.
    “No, he doesn’t take any crap.”
    “But,” Cooper said slowly, “there’s the trouble.”
    “What trouble?”
    “Didn’t you hear? He may’ve accidentally on purpose lost some evidence. There was word he’d been fucking the Gebben girl. She was a regular little c-you-know-what. Anyway, some letters or shit got burnt upthat may’ve connected her with Corde. They dropped the investigation—”
    “What investigation?”
    “What I’m saying. About Corde, about him eighty-sixing the evidence. But he wasn’t ever found
innocent
. They just dropped it.”
    Treadle’s eyes brightened. “Think that’s something we can use?”
    “I suppose that depends,” Cooper said, “on whether we
want
to use it or not.”
    Bill Corde was talking on the pay phone to Diane. It was after dusk and he was in front of Dregg’s Variety, perilously close to Route 117. Every sixth or seventh car whipped by so fast he felt his uniform tugged by the slipstream as if the drivers were playing a fun game of cop-grazing.
    “Jamie?” Corde asked, “What’s the matter with him?”
    “He got home late. He didn’t call or anything. I want you to talk to him. It’s the second night in a row.”
    “Well, I will. But I’m …” Corde let the cyclone from a Mack eighteen-wheeler spin past then continued, “But I’m a little busy right at the moment. This lead on the Gebben case. He’s okay?”
    Diane said testily, “Of course he’s okay. I just said he’s okay.”
    “I’m out here on the highway,” Corde said to explain his distraction. Then he added, “I’ll talk to him tonight.”
    “I don’t want you just to talk to him. I wanted …”
    “What?”
    “Nothing.”
    Corde ignored the brittleness and asked, “How’s Sarah?”
    “She had a good session with Ben and she said she did two more chapters of her book. The insurance money didn’t come again today. I was thinking maybe you should call.…”
    I’m out here in the middle of the highway
.
    Diane continued, “It’s over two thousand. Mom had her ovaries out for three thousand five. I’m so glad Ben’s only twenty an hour. That’s a lifesaver.”
    “Right.”
Who’s Ben? Oh, the tutor
. “Well,” Corde said, “that’s good. I better go.”
    “Wait. One more thing. The team can’t get a bus for the match in Higgins. Jamie wants to know if we can drive him and Davey?”
    “I guess. Sure.”
    “You won’t forget? It’s the last match of the season.”
    “I won’t forget.”
    Another car was approaching. This one didn’t speed past. It stopped. Corde looked up and saw Steve Ribbon and Jack Treadle looking at him. Ribbon was solemn.
    Oh, brother
.
    It was Jack Treadle’s car—a bottom-of-the-line Mercedes though it had a big fancy car phone. They pulled in front of Corde’s cruiser and parked. The two men got