“That’s when his head hit the floor.”

“Why’d you push him?”

“I figured he was beating that little boy.”

“What made you think that?

“Well,” Mike swallowed. “I saw the kid’s arms were covered in bruises and he looked like he’d been crying.”

“Are observations like this part of your training as a security guard?”

“I was hired to do whatever it takes to keep the peace.”

“Is that why you killed his father?” The officer prodded.

“No.” Mike clenched his jaw. “Look, I told you it was an accident.”

“But you meant to hurt him, right?”

“I only did it because Maureen said I should do something.”

“And Maureen is?”

“She’s nobody.” Mike coughed. “She’s just a girl that sells popcorn out of a snack booth.”

“This is at the carnival where you’re both employed?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“So she told you to kill him?”

“No!” Mike trembled. “She saw the bruises too and said nobody should have to live with abuse. Damn!”

“You okay? Need a minute?”

“I never wanted any of this.”

“Any of what?”

“This life, man.”

“Tell me the truth about Maureen.”

Mike sighed. “She helped me get this shitty job. Me and her used to run a three-card Monte scam a few years back. I got caught and spent a year in the pen. She helped forge documents to get me this gig when I got out.”

“You feel like you owe her then.”

“It’s not like that, man.”

“Okay. What happened next with the boy and his dad?”

“They walked off. The boy said he had to go to the bathroom.”

“So you follow them?”

“I was concerned.”

“Were you ever abused as a child?”

“I…”

“Forget I asked. Okay. You follow them. Now what?”

“I listen outside the men’s room.”

“What do you hear?”

“Kid’s in pain, crying.”

“Okay.” The officer pauses. “Ever heard of a condition called von Willebrand disease?”

“What the hell you talking about?”

“It’s a bleeding disorder. The person’s blood don’t clot easily. Makes them real susceptible to bruising.”

“What’s that got to do with…?” Mike gasped.

“Yeah, the kid had it and apparently it’s hereditary.”

“Aw, shit.”

“I got two witnesses say you ran into that men’s room like an animal.”

“He was standing over the kid! He had him by the wrist!”

“The boy had cut his hand on a toothpick. His father was elevating his arm to slow the bleeding.”

“Oh God.”

“When you threw that boy’s father down, he hit his head and blood flooded his brain.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit.”

“So there ain’t no way I’m getting out of these handcuffs, eh?”

“Not unless you can raise the dead.”