Free An Evil Shadow by A. J. Davidson Page A

by fiendish mistreatment at the hands of her
mother — abuse that we can’t begin to imagine. She did not try to deny her
crime or escape retribution; she accepted her punishment and benefited from it.
Yet — and it does us no credit — when Miss Duval sought a college education,
she turned to out-of-state universities in the mistaken belief that she would
encounter greater tolerance. But those universities closed their doors on her.
The University of New Orleans will not deny an education to anyone who seeks
it. Ladies and gentlemen of the press, may I present our newest student, Miss
Marie Duval."
    The room erupted in noise and bright light as motor
drives started to whir and flash guns fired. In response to the photographers’
demands, Duval took a few cautious steps towards the front row. She was nervous
and appeared overwhelmed at finding herself the center of so much attention.
Questions were being fired at her, but she refused to be drawn. Marcus had
cautioned her to let him answer on her behalf.
    When the furor died down, Marcus gallantly escorted
Duval back to her seat, then returned to the microphones.
    “I’ll take your questions one at a time.”
    A journalist from The
Times-Picayune was the first to be given an opportunity to speak.
    “Miss Duval claimed that she was provoked into killing
her mother. How can you be certain that the same won’t happen when she has an
essay marked down? Will a C minus put the lives of the teaching staff at risk?”
    “I consider it a contemptible trivialization to
compare brutal and systematic child abuse to objective academic grading.”
    Cool it, Marcus, Val thought, as he watched the
journalist scowl; don’t get their hackles up.
    A girl from Driftwood, the university’s student
newspaper, was next in line to ask a question. “How will Miss Duval find the
money to pay her tuition?”
    Marcus explained that the Assist Haiti charity was
funding her studies and introduced Philip Lausaux. That brought on a barrage of
probing questions about why a charity, ostensibly created to provide aid within
Haiti, would deem it appropriate to foot the bill for Duval’s college
education.
    Lausaux responded to their quizzing competently enough
until a journalist asked him how he expected Duval’s studies in Caribbean art
to put food in Haitian bellies. Anger flared briefly across Lausaux’s face and
he said tersely that it was his charity’s avowed aim to feed Haitian minds as
well as their stomachs. The mood amongst the journalists was turning
increasingly ugly when Dawkins, a widely read columnist with the New Orleans Magazine , raised the
circumstances of Val’s appointment.
    “My congratulations to the university’s new Police
Chief on his appointment. Isn’t he the former New Orleans Police Department
detective responsible for Miss Duval’s arrest ten years ago?”
    Marcus assured the columnist that those were the
facts.
    Dawkins wasn’t through.
    “I would like to ask the Chief what circumstances led
to him being offered the job and what reasons he had for accepting? Have they
anything to do with Miss Duval not being as rehabilitated as the Dean would
have us believe?”
    Val joined Marcus at the rostrum. He leaned into the
microphones. “It was not a decision I reached easily. My immediate response was
to decline the post, but a personal appeal from Miss Duval had me reverse that
decision. Seventeen years service with the New Orleans Police Department has
provided me with some insight into the hostility and threats she will
encounter.”
    “Surely,” Dawkins said, “you mean the threat she
poses?”
    “No, that is not what I mean. Miss Duval is black. Her
mother and she were illegal immigrants to this country. She is a young
attractive female and a non-Christian. Threats will be made against her by
white supremacists, the KKK, the Bible-Belters and a lot of testosterone-loaded
young men. Confronted with obstacles like those, how many of us would take the
easy