Chapters (113)
- NATCHEZBURNING
- GREG ILES
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PROLOGUE
- PART ONE
- 1964–1968
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- PART TWO
- 2005
- MONDAY
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- TUESDAY
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- CHAPTER 37
- CHAPTER 38
- CHAPTER 39
- CHAPTER 40
- CHAPTER 41
- CHAPTER 42
- CHAPTER 43
- CHAPTER 44
- CHAPTER 45
- CHAPTER 46
- CHAPTER 47
- CHAPTER 48
- CHAPTER 49
- CHAPTER 50
- CHAPTER 51
- CHAPTER 52
- CHAPTER 53
- CHAPTER 54
- CHAPTER 55
- CHAPTER 56
- CHAPTER 57
- CHAPTER 58
- WEDNESDAY
- CHAPTER 59
- CHAPTER 60
- CHAPTER 61
- CHAPTER 62
- CHAPTER 63
- CHAPTER 64
- CHAPTER 65
- CHAPTER 66
- CHAPTER 67
- CHAPTER 68
- CHAPTER 69
- CHAPTER 70
- CHAPTER 71
- CHAPTER 72
- CHAPTER 73
- CHAPTER 74
- CHAPTER 75
- CHAPTER 76
- CHAPTER 77
- CHAPTER 78
- CHAPTER 79
- CHAPTER 80
- CHAPTER 81
- CHAPTER 82
- CHAPTER 83
- CHAPTER 84
- CHAPTER 85
- CHAPTER 86
- CHAPTER 87
- CHAPTER 88
- CHAPTER 89
- CHAPTER 90
- CHAPTER 91
- CHAPTER 92
- CHAPTER 93
- CHAPTER 94
- CHAPTER 95
- CHAPTER 96
- CHAPTER 97
- AFTERWORD
- BOOKS BY GREG ILES
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
“I’m a gambler,” Brody told Forrest. “But as a general rule, I only bet on sure things. I’m going to tell you about the biggest bet I ever made.”
“What’s that?” asked Forrest.
“Everybody’s always known that if a hurricane ever hit New Orleans head-on, the city would be wiped out. The whole damn town is nothing but a big bowl sitting below sea level—a bowl of filth waiting for a purging flood. Even the people who lived there knew it. But they just kept the party going, and pretended it would never happen. They formed levee boards, and the politicians swept the money under the table as fast as it came in. Everybody got their cut, even me. But I was laughing the whole time. Because I knew their luck couldn’t hold. I bought low-lying land and insured the hell out of whatever was on it. St. Bernard Parish, the Lower Ninth Ward, Lakeview, Navarre, Gentilly, even Gert Town. The city dodged Betsy, then Camille, and four or five other near misses over the years. But I kept buying. Tulane/Gravier, New Orleans East … because their luck had to run out someday. It was simple probability. The only question was, would I live to see it?” Brody smiled for the first time tonight, and his triumph was terrible to see. “Well, I have. At first I thought Katrina was going to be another close call. But then the corruption and the bad engineering and the laissez-faire bullshit tipped the balance. The levees broke, and God swept that city clean like Sodom and Gomorrah.”
Brody laughed with deep satisfaction. “I can’t tell you how I felt watching that water rise on television. Every extra foot put millions more into my pocket. Three months ago I started getting my settlement checks, and it’s more money than you’ll ever see in your life. But that’s just lagniappe. The real payoff hasn’t even started yet! Because the old city’s gone now. The municipal whorehouse that all those decadent old Catholic hypocrites loved to call ‘the city that care forgot’ is dead, and rotting as we speak. A new city will rise in its place, and it’s going to be different.”