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”It was very sad,” said Father Daigle, standing up. ”He came here to work, I understand. A lot of fellas do, without really understanding what the work entails or just how isolated it can be here. He missed his wife and little girl but he said he couldn’t find work back home so came out here to try to provide for them. Can’t blame him for trying, I suppose.”

”He started coming to church more regularly towards the end of last year. I think he saw it as a way of dealing with the loneliness but he really got into it in a big way. He was fascinated by the story of the creation - Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden - but most of all about the serpent and how it tempted them into wickedness. Brian became obsessed as the months went by. Every time we had Bible study, he was there, but he always wanted to turn the conversation around the serpent. Why did Satan choose that form? Could there be other serpents seeking to lead him from the path of righteousness? Like I say, an obsession.”

”Eventually, I had to say something as it was affecting the other parishioners who attended. I suggested we might talk about other aspects of the Bible but he always turned the conversation around. I was quite firm with him and he didn’t take it well. Said the church was rejecting him…” The old priest paused, looking down sadly at Brian’s grave. ”The next time I saw him, he was in a bad way. His health had deteriorated and it was like he was hallucinating. He said he saw snakes everywhere. He became really paranoid about them. He used to disturb my sermons with his ranting and I’d made my mind up to say something, but he didn’t show up for church that night. It was only next day that I heard he’d been found dead, out by those oil pits, bitten more than a dozen times by snakes…”

= = =

”Billy Trahan?” said Father Ortega. “He lives just a few doors down from Mrs Hebert. His wife leaving him hit him hard though.”

"Sounds as though he had reason to fear them," Alex observes. "Though a man with such an obsession may well have sought them out, perhaps in a misguided attempt to kill them and be free of the hold he felt they had on him. A tragedy regardless. Are snake attacks common in these parts?"

"His friend Andre Haggerston told us that Brian Tucker was responsible for carving the snake," says William. "His fear and obsession must have gotten the better of him. Mr. Haggerston is also terrified of snakes, no doubt because of what happened to his friend, and that they'll kill him. I gave him a dose of antivenom, which may make him feel better, but I don't know if it will be of much help if he gets bitten as many times as his friend did. I think he could benefit from your counsel."

”Common? Not especially,” said Father Daigle. ”Perhaps not more than one or two year, and Mr Tucker is the only one I can recall who died as a result of being bitten.”

”And please tell Mr Haggerston that he’s welcome to come to the church at any time. Father Ortega will be happy to talk to him.”

"I will, the next time I see him," says William.

"Did the unfortunate Mr. Tucker tell you any of his life history? Where he came from? His previous occupations?" asks Ivy.

If there's nowhere else where we can research Brian's life and death, we could pay Billy Trahan a visit.

”I know he had a wife and child,” replied Father Daigle. ”But he didn’t say much about his life prior to moving here. I think he might have mentioned he was a busboy in a family restaurant, but I really can’t be sure.”

"A very sad situation," say Ivy. "Poor fellow. Thank you for answering our questions - I hope we're not making ourselves too onerous"

"We do appreciate your help," Alex adds."For now, I think paying Mr. Trahan a visit and seeing if he's up for company is an excellent idea."

Saturday March 14th, 1931 1.30pm
Trahan House, Middle Ridge Road, Johnson Bayou, Cameron Parish, Louisiana

Compared to Mrs Hebert’s immaculate house two doors down, the garden of the Trahan house was a mess. The grass hadn’t been cut, the picket fence had a couple of broken panels and the paintwork was peeling. As they approached the front door, they saw a couple of cardboard boxes full of empty bottles, just left to one side.

William examines the bottles, checking for labels that might indicate what their contents had been.

There were no labels but with a sniff at the neck of the bottle, the contents were unmistakable - moonshine!

Ivy's nose wrinkles in disgust as she sniffs the bottle.

"Another weak-willed man seeking solace in alcohol," she spits. "What are the odds on either a morose drunk or an angry one?"

Alex resists the urge to haul the man in, before remembering he does not have arrest authority down here.

"Hopefully he can provide some information to us, but Its entirely possible his problems have nothing to do what we are interested in. Let's keep a skeptical ear for now."

"I suspected as much," says William. "Let's hope he's in a morose mood and not an angry one," says William. "Shall we knock?"

As they stood by the front door, a man stumbled around the corner from the rear of the property. “Who the hell are you? Lawyers?” he slurred, as he started digging the bottles, trying to find one that wasn’t empty.

"Lawyers, sir?" asks William, wondering if it's that obvious. "Why would you be expecting lawyers?"

“My damned wife! Wasn’t here more’n five minutes and she’s still chasing me for alimony!” He tipped the box onto the porch, groused when he saw all the bottles were empty, and kicked one of them into the long grass of his front lawn.

“Well, if you ain’t lawyers, who are you and what the hell do you want?”