Big Easy Bonanza

on the armrest while he stared at the message. Then he made the call.
    “This is Tubby Dubonnet. Is Mr. Banks in?”
    “Just a second, sir, I’ll see.”
    A few moments passed before Banks took the call.
    “Hello, Tubby, how are you?”
    “I’m peachy, what’s the deal?”
    “If you would like to meet, let me suggest a spot Uptown. ‘’
    “All right.”
    “There is a K&B drugstore not far from your house where Napoleon and Claiborne Avenues intersect.” Tubby was sure he had never mentioned where he lived to Banks. There was no big secret, of course, since he was in the phone book.
    “Yeah, I know where it is.”
    “Go there this evening around eleven o’clock. Park away from the store and wait in your car.”
    “Okay. Who do I look for?”
    “Somebody will find you. It will only take a minute.”
    “You can bet the place I’ll be waiting will be well lit.”
    “As you wish. All they want is the money, Tubby. That’s all they ever wanted.”
    And the son of a bitch hung up.
    The phone rang again.
    “Hello, Daddy.”
    “Hi, Debbie, what’s going on?”
    “I’m going to come downtown in a little bit to see if Hiller’s can fix the gold chain you gave me for Christmas. I thought maybe you would have time for a cup of coffee.”
    “Why, sure I would. What time do you think you’ll be here?”
    “Maybe three-thirty. Should I come up?”
    “Yeah, sure. Come on up and rescue me. We’ll go out and get something to eat or drink, you name it.”
    “All right, Daddy, see ya.”
    And the phone rang again.
    It was Cherrylynn, reporting that Jynx Margolis wanted to talk to him. He said he would take the call.
    “Hello, Tubby. What the hell is that?”
    “What?” Tubby was confused.
    “Some kind of damn roach just ran through my kitchen. Just a minute. Arlene! Arlene, did you see that enormous roach over there? See if you can’t capture that creature and show him the way home. Tubby, doesn’t this city drive you nuts? My house is clean, but they come in off the streets.”
    “They must know where the best places are to eat. Take it as a compliment, Jynx.”
    “I guess I might as well. Tubby, the reason I called is I need some money. You can understand that, I know. When are we going to make that pissant pay me?”
    “The hearing is,” Tubby checked his calendar, “the sixteenth. But look, toots, you need to get all your bills together. You need to be able to lay it all out why three thousand-dollars-a-month alimony pendente lite isn’t enough to get by on.”
    “I’d like to see you, or Byron, or Judge whatever-his-name-is get by on that.”
    “I didn’t say we could, but you need to get your bills together anyway. Byron is paying the mortgage, and I can’t promise you that the judge will think you’re getting shorted. You’ll have to make a case.”
    “I have plenty of bills, but they’re all in a box.”
    “Well, get them out. You know, your hairdresser bill from Salon Senoj, your manicure bill, the French spa, all those important expenses.”
    “Tubby, you’re fantastic.”
    “Come see me next week. I’ll take you to lunch.”
    “Okay, dear.” She hung up. Tubby started to plan his evening, but the phone rang again.
    Debbie suggested La Madeleine in Jackson Square, but Tubby did not want to go so near the scene of last night’s violence. There had been nothing about it in the newspapers. He was still shaking, and it would have helped him to see the whole thing objectified in print. Instead, he and Debbie walked to a pastry shop on Gravier Street, where both ordered coffee and almond croissants. Tubby slathered butter on his.
    “You don’t seem like you’re really here today, Daddy.”
    “Sorry, lots of work. Ignore it.”
    “Mother said you’re paying for Christine’s trip to Europe.”
    “That’s right.”
    “I think it’s so neat she’s getting to go.”
    “Me, too. I wish you’d had the chance in high school.”
    “I’m thinking of going next year after I graduate.”
    “Let’s talk about it when the time gets a little closer. How is summer school going?”
    “Okay, I guess. Lots of term papers to write. My problem isn’t with school.”
    “What’s your problem with?”
    “I probably shouldn’t tell you. I’m not sure Mom wants you to know, but it’s Harold. He’s been staying at my apartment for nearly a month now. I told him he could stay there while he looked for a place to live, which I thought might take him a week or two, but