The Blood Eagle in the Big Easy Read Free Page B

before stopping to pull on a pair of combat boots. Strapping on my watch I walked out of the bedroom pausing long enough to shove my phone in my pocket along with my wallet before heading out the door to see what type of special hell the day would bring.
    Hurrying out of my house some twenty minutes after Gregory’s call I clicked the button on the keyring to unlock my Kia Sportage. Hey don’t knock it till you try it! They are actually quite nice. I flicked on the lights which bore into the darkness ahead of me. The sky was pitch black with dark low hanging clouds. Even though the moon was hidden from view I knew it would be full in a matter of hours. Contrary to popular belief the moon isn’t always full at night. Today that particular event would happen at 8:43 a.m. I could hear thunder rumble in from Lake Pontchartrain and lightning flashed through the angry clouds above. It didn’t feel like rain today but mother nature was angry and was letting me know of her displeasure.
    Pulling off Wisner Avenue onto the service road I was reminded why City Park was such a popular attraction. Large old oak trees ladened with Spanish Moss made grandiose appearances throughout the landscape. This particular area had been part of the golf course before Katrina’s devastation. Now the rolling greens were unkempt, overgrown and slightly brown. The wide paved path once used by golf carts was empty and buckling. Even so the place still had a majestic feel to it as if its former self couldn’t be lost to something even as powerful as Katrina. Passing Pan Am Field I admired the wooded area just before Diagonal Dr. (Can we guess why it’s called Diagonal Dr.?) Passing several cruisers I finally found a place to pull off into the grass that was being used as a makeshift parking lot.
    Popp Fountain according to most sources was built in 1937. However that is wrong. It was designed in the twenties by the Olmsted brothers for John F. Popp who died a few years earlier. It was actually dedicated to Mr Popp in 1934 and finally ‘officially’ recognized by the state in 1936, so I have no idea how anyone ever came up with the year 1937. It is some sixty feet wide with twenty-six Corinthian style columns which nicely represented the art deco style of the day. Created by Mexican master sculptor Enrique Alferez, he sculpted a bronze base depicting dolphins leaping out of the water, spraying water some thirty feet in the air. The fountain itself contains secrets that few people knew about when it was built and still fewer know today. Needless to say the wisteria only adds to the entire sacred feel emanating from the area. Given the fact that to some people this area is basically a holy site I found it disturbing on many levels that this particular spot was chosen for a murder.
    A crowd of NOPD and state police officers were busy trying to secure the area with crime scene tape. Showing my ID to one of the officers at the edge of the tape, he nodded at me before lifting the tape allowing me to proceed. As I looked down at the red clay brick walkway that lead to the east entrance of the fountain I took a deep breath and steadied myself before continuing on. The columns around the fountain had a new addition of long strips of white cloth between each one shielding the scene from view. Maybe the park services wanted to ‘upscale’ the Roman columns? My foot no sooner hit the first step of Popp Fountain when I heard Gregory call my name.
    "Viktor, we’re over here." Gregory waved at me to join him center stage.
    It didn’t take long for me to pick him out of the crowd. At six foot four inches tall and two hundred and thirty pounds of solid muscle Gregory stood head and shoulders above most men. His dark brown skin stood out against the bright white perfectly pressed oxford while his black slacks we obviously tailor made. He always looked as if he had just stepped off the cover of GQ magazine. He was a cross between Omari Hardwick and his better