Big Easy Bonanza

have been pretty shocked to find the scrapbook. And then it turned out you had to leave in a hurry. But you came back to get it, didn’t you? You really shouldn’t have broken into a police officer’s house, Henry. And certainly not twice. That sort of thing makes us really mad.” Almost immediately, she realized she’d gone too far. She was being mean and bullying.
    A paring knife sailed past her cheek.
    She stepped toward him, but a plastic bowl of salad dressing splashed her face like a custard pie and dripped greasily onto her sweater. He bounced a jar of vitamins off her shoulder.
    “Cunt!” He was way out of control. She made her voice silky and comforting, the voice you use for frightened toddlers.
    “Henry, everything’s okay. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”
    He caught her eye for a moment, as if trying to decide whether to believe her, and stepped backward into the living room. He picked up the ottoman, holding it like a shield. Slowly, Skip followed, trying not to make any sudden moves. She braced herself, but when the leather lump slammed into her chest, it knocked her down. She was unhurt, popped up quickly. But it gave him time to grab a lamp.
    Realizing there was nothing else to do, she rushed him and dived at his legs in a flying tackle that brought him down in a heap, unplugging the lamp. The room went dark as she wrestled him.
    “Cunt!” screamed Henry. “Get off me, you bitch. I killed him, goddammit; I killed him, you cunt. Leave me the hell alone or I’ll kill you too. I swear to God I will.”
    Through his shouting, Skip was vaguely aware of a pounding on the door, but she had no time for that now. He was small, much smaller than she, but he was wriggling like a cat being bathed, and he was at least as slippery and bony. He was strong too. Maybe it was the fabled strength of the insane.
    “Henry! What is it? Henry! Oh, God, what is it?”
    It was Bitty’s voice. For a moment he was distracted enough for Skip to pin an arm behind him.
    “Mother! Thank God! Get her off me!”
    A light went on—Bitty had found the floor lamp. “Skip? Skippy, is that you?”
    Skip didn’t know what to say. She settled on “He’s upset.”
    Bitty knelt by them. Skip had Henry on his belly now, straddling him, twisting one arm behind him and holding the other. Bitty stroked his hair. “What’s wrong, baby?”
    “The bitch knows, Mother. She knows I killed Daddy. The bastard—he was going to cut my money off. He wouldn’t leave me alone. He wouldn’t leave Tolliver alone…” His voice was trailing off now, deteriorating to a toneless gibber.
    “What are you saying?”
    Without warning, he started shouting again. “I hated the bastard! I hated his guts! I hated his ass! I’ve wanted to kill him for years.”
    “But Tolliver—”
    “He did it to cover for me, Mother. He loved me!” He sounded like a sometime lunatic just back from the edge of madness, trying desperately to be rational.
    “Officer Langdon,” he said, “I confess to the murder of my father. Will you let me up, please?”
    Skip got off him and pulled him to his feet, still holding the arm behind him. She had cuffs in her purse. “Henry, you’re under arrest,” she said, very deliberately and quietly. “You have the right to remain silent…”
    “Shut up!”
    She turned in surprise. She hadn’t thought Bitty had that much noise in her small frame.
    “Let him go.” Bitty was holding Skip’s gun, fished from the purse.
    The whole family was going nuts on her. Once again she spoke deliberately, trying not to frighten either mother or son. “I can’t do that, Bitty.”
    “He didn’t kill his father. I did.”
    “She’s lying.”
    Bitty said, “Shut up, Henry. Promise to sit down so Skippy can let you go.”
    “Mother, you can’t protect me. Nobody’s going to believe you did it—and I don’t mean just because you didn’t have a motive. Frankly, my dear, you drink too much to pull off something like that.”
    “Henry, it’s no good.” She threw the cuffs to Skip. “He’s protecting me, Skippy. Put these on him and I’ll tell you what happened.”
    “Oh, Mother, it’s all right. I’ll be good.”
    Skip said, “Why don’t I believe that?”
    “Because you’re a stupid cunt!” He kicked backward at her shin but missed. In one smooth movement, Skip took the cuffs from Bitty and wrestled him into them. She would have pushed him roughly into a chair if Bitty hadn’t been there, but out of