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

way out and keep our heads well below the parapet? Marie Duval is an
exceptionally courageous girl who deserves all the support she can be given. I
will do my best to see that no harm befalls her. All you present have a chance
to play your part by resisting the impulse to sensationalize the university’s
decision to accept Miss Duval. We all know the extremists we have on our
streets. Let’s not give them something to freak out over.”
    The mood of the journalists lightened and Val could
sense an undercurrent of consensus sweep the room. One female journalist got to
her feet and applauded. They fired a few more questions at him, but without the
ferocity of before.
    Marcus seized on a pause in the propitative
questioning to call an end to the press conference. He thanked the journalists
for coming and told them that they could pick up a press release at the back of
the room. Then he ushered the participants of the panel into an annex to give the
journalists time to disperse. Angie was holding a tray with a glass of chilled
white wine for each of them. She took Duval aside and started a spirited
conversation with her.
    “That went better than I dared hope for,” Marcus said,
smiling broadly at Val and Lausaux. “I think we can expect a fair hearing from
them.”
    “You have your brother to thank for that, Marcus,”
Lausaux said.
    “Yes, yes indeed. Will you excuse me for a few
moments? There’s something I have to attend to. I’ll be right back,” Marcus
said, then left.
    Lausaux patted Val on the back. “You gave the
reporters an opportunity to feel good about themselves, and believe me, that is
not something they get to do all that often. I didn’t expect such deftness of
touch from a police officer.”
    Lausaux was Louisiana Creole, though his accent owed
more to Cambridge, Massachusetts than to New Orleans. He was mocha-colored,
with a thin, arrogant nose, angular cheekbones and a high forehead. He wore a
suit that could only have been cut in London's Savile Row and which no doubt
had attracted Marcus’s envy. Val found his patronizing attitude offensive.
    “I did only what you do every day,” he said, allowing
some edge into his voice. “Isn’t that how a successful charity operates? In
return for their, relatively speaking, pitiful contributions, the wealthy are
allowed to feel virtuous. You massage their egos and give them the oxygen of
favorable publicity. And after some creative bookkeeping, it ends up costing
them nothing.”
    Lausaux’s eyes zeroed in on Val as though he was
seeing him for the first time. “How candid of you. It’s intriguing to meet a
manwith the gall to criticize our
methods, while totally bereft of all scruples over his brother’s canvassing on
his behalf. If I had a couple more like you on staff, my job at Assist Haiti
would be a great deal easier.”
    Angie and Duval joined them. They were too keyed-up to
notice that they had stepped between two combatants.
    “Thank you, Val” Angie leaned into him and gave him a
peck on the cheek. “For everything.”
    “What is it you have to tell me?” Val said softly.
    Angie blushed slightly. “Not now, not here.”
    Lausaux picked up on it and raised an eyebrow a
fraction. He turned to Duval and said, “Chief Bosanquet and I have been
discussing how a charity operates. Perhaps you can persuade him to be my guest
this evening on the Natchez. He’ll have an opportunity to see at firsthand how
we raise the bulk of our income and learn something of our plans for its
distribution.”
    “Is that okay with you?” Duval asked Val. “Assist
Haiti is holding a charity auction during an evening river cruise. One of mypaintings has been entered. I’d love
you to be there.”
    Lausaux smiled and said, “The Natchez will depart from
Poydras Street Wharf at seven. Once we have our guests on the river, nobody’s
allowed off the boat until they’ve bought something.”
    It didn’t sound like the sort of event where Jackson
would put in