Louis Dumkowski had never been in New Orleans before, in fact, the only time he’d been more than a hundred miles south of Detroit was when he fled to his aunt’s farm in east Texas to avoid Vincent ‘the Enforcer’ Williams, who had been trying to put small holes in his body because Louis had failed to repay a loan – several loans, in fact – he owed him.  Louis hadn’t enjoyed Texas; so little had he enjoyed it, in fact, he’d gone back to Detroit, deciding that facing Vincent and his shotgun was preferable to being in a place where people talked funny, acted funny, and went to bed almost as soon as the sun set.

He’d been surprised at the reception he received.  Vinnie, which was what everyone except his customers called Vincent.  His customers tried not to call him anything, but when forced, they called him Mr. Williams to his face, and unprintable names behind his back.

Vinnie took Louis and his friend Cleatus Williams on as assistant loan sharks.  Working as a team, Louis and Cleatus were successful, but when Cleatus’s conscience got the better of him, they convinced Vinnie to change his line of work.  Now, instead of making loans at outrageous rates, they provided seed money to enterprising inner city residents to start businesses or to get out of temporary trouble, charging a modest five percent per month, and with liberal repayment rates.

Their new business had been an instant success.  They made less money, but they were making money; and more importantly, they were now respected members of the community.  Well, the local banks weren’t too happy, but the people were, and that’s all that mattered.

They had been so successful that Vinnie suggested that they take some time off and go to New Orleans for Mardis Gras.  He too had never been in the south; had never experienced the wild revelry of Mardis Gras, so after about ten seconds of conversation, it was agreed that they would go.  The three of them piled into Vinnie’s ’87 Ford and headed south.

The drive from Detroit took two and a half days with them sharing time at the wheel.  They pulled into the parking lot of the Best Western a few blocks from the edge of the French Quarter around ten in the morning.