Four days later . . .

Caterina returned to her office, looking well and feeling better. She did a three-day stint in bed. And after that, she spent a day at the spa to put herself back together.

She was thrilled to find a length of black hair, stretched out across her desk. She had been told that Hugue had whacked it off of ol' Kampfer, and the vile wizard ran away crying. She decided to mount it on a plaque and display it. But before she did that, Caterina had an important matter to attend to.

She opened the top desk drawer and searched through it. She had stuck an important item in there a few years ago. But she never took it out. She never even touched it.

Until now.

Caterina fished a small device out of the drawer. It was the size and shape of a credit card and it only had one small red button on it.

Monica wasn't difficult to find. She was loitering in the hallway, staring out the window. "Hello, Monica," Caterina greeted cheerfully.

Monica jumped a little. She gave Caterina a big fake-friendly smile, but she stared at her boss with cornered animal eyes. "Oh! Hello, Cardinal Sforza!" she returned with a false sweetness Caterina always loathed. "How are you feeling?"

"Very well, thank you." Caterina gave Monica her own fake smile and spoke with her own fake sweetness. For some reason, it made Monica shudder.

"Good!" Monica nervously started to rub her arms as if she suddenly got cold. "I'm so . . . happy to hear that! How's Gunslinger? Is he any better?"

"He's improving." Caterina had her hands behind her back. If Monica saw the device . . . oh, if she saw it.

Caterina pressed the button. Monica Argento didn't have much longer to live.

Monica put a hand to the necklace she always wore. She must have felt something change, something shift around her neck. "Oh . . . good. I . . . hope he recovers soon. I can't wait . . . to work with him again." She started to sweat.

That will happen when Hell freezes over, Caterina didn't say. You will never hurt him again.

"I should go," Monica said quickly. "Please excuse me, Your Eminence." Monica started to hurry down the hall.

"Of course, Schwartz Witwe."

Monica froze. She turned to look back at Caterina with eyes as big as dinner plates. Her skin, pale to begin with, faded to a snow white. "Wh-What?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, Monica. I was just practicing my German." Caterina put her fingers to her lips with mock sheepishness. "I'm thinking about going to Germanicus next month."

"Oh." Monica seemed to relax a little.

"I sure hope nobody kills me in my sleep before then!"

Monica looked like she could just faint.

"Are you alright, Black Widow?"

"I-I-I-I-I'm fine! F-Fine!" Monica stuttered. "I think I'm . . . j-j-just . . . a-a li-little . . . overheated." She gave her head a small shake. "Why would someone want to do that? Kill you in your sleep? I can't imagine why anyone would want to do that!"

Caterina shrugged calmly. "Who knows? I have no shortage of enemies."

"I should go." Monica sank into the floor without another word. Caterina went back into her office . . .

. . . and waited.

An hour later, there was a soft boom.

And that was the end of the Black Widow.

Caterina turned the page of the paperback she was reading. She would shed no tears for her subordinate. Monica would be happier in Hell anyway.

She would not send anyone out to collect Monica's body. She would not give her a proper Christian burial. The buzzards need to eat. Even the cheapest funeral would be wasted on that bitch. No one would miss her anyway. Caterina would just simply tell everyone she had cut Monica loose.

She should've done that a long time ago.

The end