The Lesson of Her Death

nearly to a tenor.
    “Raise your hand, Wynton,” Corde said. Kresge did.
    “By the power vested in me by the County of Harrison, you, Wynton Washington Kresge, are hereby appointed as special deputy pursuant to Revised State Code Title 12 Section 131.13. Repeat after me. ‘I, Wynton Washington Kresge …’”
    Kresge cleared his throat, looking with astonishment at Corde. “What is this?”
    Corde said, “Do what the man’s telling you.”
    “I, Wynton Washington Kresge, do swear to uphold the laws of this state and to tirelessly and faithfully serve and protect the citizens of the County of Harrison and the municipalities located therein
.…”
    “If you don’t want to say ‘so help me God,’” the clerk concluded, “you can say, ‘upon my solemn oath.’”
    Kresge said, “So help me God.”
    Corde shook his hand. The clerk gave him three pieces of paper to sign.
    “You didn’t tell me.” Kresge whispered this to Corde.
    “I need you, Wynton. I figured if I just drove you here you’d be less inclined to say no and go looking for a cushy office job someplace else.”
    “Look, Detective, I’m grateful. I really am. But there’s no way I can afford to do this.”
    Corde smiled cryptically. “You can’t afford not to. Talk to that pretty wife of yours. You’ll find some way to work it out.”
    The clerk was impatient. “You two talk about this later, will you?” He finished the paperwork and folded a couple sheets like a subpoena. He handed one to Kresge. “Go over to County Central Booking and get fingerprinted on the same form and have a picture ID taken in Personnel. The same building. Bill’ll tell you where it is.Have both these copies notarized. Lucy can do it if she’s not at lunch, and if she is go to Farmer’s Bank. Ask for Sally Anne. Bring me back one copy.”
    “But I haven’t even thought about it.”
    “You’re a special deputy, which sounds good but don’t let it go to your head, it’s the lowest rank we’ve got. You have a pistol permit?”
    “Yes, I do. I did the small-arms course at Higgins. My score—”
    “You have to buy your own weapon but you get reimbursed up to two hundred. Automatics are okay but you can only use accepted loads, the ones on here.” He handed Kresge a badly photocopied sheet of paper. “Don’t get caught with anything heavier. And if you file the trigger it can’t be easier than a nine-pound pull.”
    Kresge nodded and Corde noticed that he’d stopped arguing.
    The clerk continued, “Your pay is twenty-nine-five annual, prorated for however long you’re with us. You’ll be assigned to Bill for whatever he needs you for. Ha, ha, big guess. You folks finish up the Gebben case and get this sicko under, we can find a permanent place for you here at the county if you get certified by the state police academy.
    “Now, you get benefits as long as you work more than twenty-five hours a week but you gotta take a physical. And for the family you gotta pay something. You got a wife and kids?”
    “Seven.”
    Corde added, “That’s the kids. He’s only got one wife.”
    “Oh, one more thing …” He tossed Kresge a plastic-wrapped green vinyl notebook about six by nine inches, three hundred or so pages thick. “That’s the state penal code and the
Deputy’s Procedural Guide
. Read ’em. Learn ’em.”
    “Yessir.” Kresge was lit up with modest pride. “Do I salute?”
    “It’s all in there.” The clerk tapped the
Guide
.
    Jennie—
    You wanted someone to teach you about love, and all you found was someone to teach you how to die.
    Why did you go that night? You said it was over.
    Do I believe you or not?
    Not knowing is almost as hard as life without you.
    Why, kiddo, why?
    Till we meet soon, Em
    “It was where?”
    “In Emily’s purse the night she drowned.”
    Wynton Kresge said, “They thought the Halpern boy wrote that? A fifteen-year-old kid?”
    Corde said, “Uhn.”
    Sitting in the New Lebanon Sheriff’s Department, wearing a uniform as spotless and pressed as Corde’s, Kresge dropped Emily’s plastic-encased note on Corde’s desk while Corde read the report aloud. “‘Graphoanalysis of Subject Document. My professional opinion is that there is no more than a 50 percent probability that the handwriting is that of Subject Emily Rossiter. Significant similarities are five-degree backslant and short ascenders and descenders and looped capital letters. Deviation from samples submitted are significant but