"Well, gentlemen," Slocum said, "welcome. You've all heard the announcement about Steve's move up and we're real happy about that situation. I've asked you here to chew the fat a little and tell you about some of the changes I'm going to institute. And I want to say, if there are any questions, I want you to interrupt me. Will you do that?"

Lance Miller, his volume hampered by the surgical tape around his ribs, said, "Sure we will."

"Good. First off nothing I'm going to do is too, you know, radical but I've been thinking about the department and there are some things we can do different that'll be helpful." He looked down at a sheet of paper. "Well, number one, we're going to change the radio codes. We're used to a lot of casual talk on the radio and I don't think we should be doing that. You can get yourself into some real unprofessional situations that way. From now on we're going to be using the Associated Public Safety Communications Officers' Codes. That's like you see on TV. Ten-four. Ten-thirteen. All that. There are thirty-four of them and you'll have to learn them all. Oh and I don't want you to say A, B, C, you know. I want Adam, Boy, Charles and so on. We're not going to use the military ones. I know some of you boys learned Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta. We're civilian and there's no reason for us to be ashamed of it."

Two deputies nodded to show that they weren't ashamed.

God bless you but… Bill Corde shifted his weight and crossed his arms.

Slocum said, "Ten-four?"

The deputies smiled politely.

"Another thing, I don't want you to worry about calling me by my first name. I've been Jim to you for years, and I don't want you all going grandiose on me and calling me 'Sheriff' or especially 'sir' or anything. Promise me that?"

"Yessir!" one of the deputies saluted sharply, and they all laughed.

"I've also been seeing about getting you boys walkie-talkies. Mayor Cooper thinks it's a good idea but where the money's going to come from is a whole 'nother thing so you may have to wait a while on those. But I just want you to know they're on our wish list. Now let's get down to brass tacks."

Over the next ten minutes Corde tried his best to pay attention as Slocum described his plans for dividing New Lebanon into precincts and the special drug task force he was going to establish.

One deputy frowned and said, "I don't think I ever arrested anybody for real drugs, Jim. Not more'n a little pot. Or coke at Auden." He turned to another deputy. "Anybody?"

The other deputies said they rarely had.

"Ain't been don't mean won't be," Slocum said and held up a Time magazine cover about crack in small towns.

It was then that Corde, mentally, left the room.

A half hour later the deputies departed, carrying their photocopies of the new radio codes that they'd be quizzed on next week. Corde scooted his chair closer to the desk.

"Glad you stayed, Bill. There's some things I wanted to talk to you about."

"Me too."

Slocum said, "I've been doing some thinking and I'd like to tell you what I've decided. This is a pretty odd situation, you being senior to me and me getting the job. So I've come up with something I think you're going to be pretty pleased with."

"Go ahead."

"I'm going to create a new job here. It'll be called vice sheriff." Slocum paused and let Corde taste the full flavor of the words. When he didn't respond Slocum said, "And guess who's going to be appointed it?… You bet." Slocum beamed. "Sounds real nice, don't you think?"

"What exactly does it mean?"

"Oh, don't think I'm doing you a favor. No sir. The fact is you're going to work for it. I've been thinking about where your talents are, Bill. And it's pretty easy to see you're a better administrator than me. I'm going to throw a lot of stuff at you. Scheduling, overtime, personnel problems, payroll. So what do you say to that, Mr. Vice Sheriff?"

Corde got up and closed the door then returned to the chair. He easily held Slocum's eye. "Jim, you're the sheriff now and I think you'll probably run the department pretty good. But I'm doing one thing and one thing only and that's tracking down Jennie Gebben's killer. I'm finding him whether he's in New Lebanon or Fredericksberg or Chicago or Mexico City and I'm bringing him back for trial. Now, tell me, what's the budget for deputies?"

"What?" Slocum was too surprised to frown.

"The budget?" Corde asked impatiently. "Didn't Steve show you the department budget?"

"Yeah, somewhere…" He inspected the desk for a moment, looking for something he had no desire to find. "But, Bill, the thing is I don't know I can have you assigned to just one case. We're down one man already, what with Lance's broken ribs and all. This's a pretty big request. I'll have to think about it."

"I believe that's it there, that computer printout."

Slocum pulled it out and opened it up. "What, is it this column? It says 'Personnel'."

Corde said, "That's actual. I need to know budgeted."

"What's that?"

"Here, gimme." Corde scowled. "That's what I was afraid of. We've hardly got enough left for raises. Not enough for a new man."

"Raises? Should I give the men raises?"

Corde was making notes on his index cards. He said, "We've got about five thousand in travel and equipment left for the rest of the year… Well, I'd like you to leave that alone. I'm going to need a good portion of it if not everything."

"Equipment? But I told you I was having trouble getting money for the walkie-talkies. And I was going to buy us all Glocks. They cost over four hundred each."

"Glocks? Jim, we don't need fifteen-round automatics."

Slocum didn't speak for a minute then he said quietly, "I'm the sheriff, Bill. I said I'd consider your request but I can't promise anything."

Corde dropped the sheet on the desk. "Okay, Jim, there's no nice way to say what I'm about to." He paused while he honestly tried to think of one. "The only thing I'll add to take the sting out of it is that whether it was you or Steve or Jack Treadle himself sitting where you are, I'd say exactly the same thing. Which is: You got yourself a plum job and you know it and I know it and I'm happy for you. But you got appointed because I turned it down. And the price for that is me getting the Cebben case and all of the travel and equipment budget, every penny of it. After this is over I'd be glad to help you with all this administrative stuff and I'll even learn your radio codes but until then what I just said is the way it is."

Corde looked back at the shock on Slocum's face, which froze slowly to a chill. Corde wondered if this talk might actually do some good, toughening the man's flaccid way.

"You don't have to be like that, Bill."

The buffoonery was gone and Corde now saw in Slocum's eyes the too-vivid knowledge that he had advanced by default and he saw too the man's depleted hope, which could have very well been Corde's own broken ambition had life moved just a little different. This stung him – for his own sake as well as Slocum's – but he did not apologize. He stood and walked to the door. "I'm counting on you to leave that money just where it is until I need it."

What Wynton Kresge owed: $132.80 to GMAC. $78.00 to Visa. $892.30 to Union Bank and Trust (the mortgage). $156.90 to Union Bank and Trust (the bill consolidation loan). $98.13 to Consolidated Edison. $57.82 to Midwestern Bell. $122.78 to Duds 'n Things for Kids. $120.00 to Corissa Hanley Duke, the housekeeper. $245.47 to American Express. $88.91 to Mobil (goddamn Texans, goddamn Arabs). $34.70 to Sears.

And that was just for the month of May.

He didn't have the heart to tally the numbers up for the year and he didn't dare calculate the brood's budget for makeup, burgers, ninja outfits, skateboards, air pump Nikes, gloves, basketballs, piano lessons, potato chips, Apple software, Spike Lee and Bart Simpson T-shirts, Run DMC tapes, Ice-T tapes, Janet Jackson, Paula Abdul, The Winnans tapes, gummy bears, white cheddar, popcorn, Diet Pepsi and whatever else got sucked into the black hole of childhood capitalism.