Robicheaux (Dave Robicheaux #21)

by James Lee Burke

anonymity.” “I didn’t know you were in the

THEOLOGIANS CALL IT the calculated testing of others’ charity. By some it’s considered a serious sin. But for someone who is manipulative or morally insane, it’s not a big obstacle. Early that same morning, Alafair entered the grounds of the Shadows-on-the-Teche, an

enormous pillared twin-chimney two-story brick home built in 1834, and today a National Trust historic site that tourists file through seven days a week. But for Alafair, the Greek revival splendor and the magnificent oaks and gardens and piked fence and bamboo borders had another meaning. Regardless of the time of year—even in spring, when the petals of the azaleas were scattered on the grass and the sunlight was transfused into a golden-green presence inside the canopy of live oaks—the rooms of the house remained cold and damp, the lichen on the trees and flagstones and birdbaths and even the tombs of the original owners a testimony to the decay and slow absorption of man’s handiwork on the earth. As Alafair sat on a stone bench in the coldness of the shade, she wondered why the glossy brochures at the entrance said nothing about where the slaves were buried, all 164 of them, nameless souls who at best were spared the lash and fed on a daily basis in the same spirit that one feeds chattel. The house was occupied by General Nathaniel Banks’s command in 1863 and figured prominently in Levon Broussard’s novel set during the Civil War and Reconstruction. Farther down Main Street stood the Episcopalian church that served as a battalion aid station for Confederate wounded, then was commandeered by General Banks and the pews pushed together to form troughs for Yankee cavalry. The partial remains of at least two gunboats still lay under the quiet surface of the bayou. The locale...