With a screeching noise, the silver disc jammed in the wood of the doorframe. Churned by the shadows of her past, Sam pressed the switch uncontrollably to power and jolted madly on the handle of the mini-circular saw. The metal shrieked in protest and the soft humming of the device died. Bluish smoke rose from the case, it smelled verschmort. OK, the thing had just overworked the service.

Sam leaned his head exhausted against her dust-and-wood-spattered forearms. She allowed herself only a moment of inactivity. Furious, she looked at the thing stuck in the wooden frame. Two clean slits pulled through the wood above the door lock, and the vertical slits in front looked promising. Below the castle there was only one slot, at the beginning of the second stuck the silver disc and made no sound.

Sam looked at her work and tried to gauge whether it had done enough damage to destroy the stability of the frame. Doubtingly she looked at the miniature edition of a circular saw. Was the glass large enough to penetrate deep into the wood or had it just scratched the surface? How thick was such a door frame?

Sam's eyes slid over the door. Stable, probably iron. When the key was turned, not only the door lock snapped shut, but also safety bolts drilled into the frame above and below the lock, all their efforts had been in vain. "You'll never know if you can not get that damned castle out." she spoke softly to herself.

Sam began scouring the rest of the closets in Summersby's basement, maybe she'd come up with an ax or a heavy sledgehammer. She cleared out all sorts of plastic containers, containers of preservative salt and indefinable tools.

The last cupboard contained alphabetically sorted books. Sam pulled out several and read the titles on the spine. Anatomy of the human body, Wickersheimer's method, taxidermy, dissection and trophy exhibition. Sam shook his head blankly. Half of the titles did not mean anything to her, but she lacked the time to read. Angrily, she threw the open closet door shut. Her eyes fell on the stainless steel table and the too short infusion stands.

Sam slowly emerged from the darkness of fainting, accompanied by loud laughter. That had to be God and the devil, who twisted in amusement and struck their thighs.

She woke up in the damp cold of her solitary cell. It was pitch black and quiet. She froze, noting that she was still naked. Slowly she sat up and saw a dark lump on the floor.

Sam kicked it with her foot. Her toes touched the rough fabric of the prison clothes. Hastily she began to dress. It was interrupted by a loud clatter on the other side of the bars. Sam spun around.

A slender figure stood in the gray gloom of the prison corridor. Lapuente.

He casually pulled a baton over the cold iron. When he could be sure of Sam's attention, he put away the baton and his long fingers closed like thick cobwebs around the bars. "Did you understand how we play the game here?" he wanted to know in a fatherly tone.

Sam laughed bitterly. "Of course, what role did you give me?"

"Oh, I think you should always use and promote people for their talents, but unfortunately, as your benefits are very one-sided, I'm afraid I have no choice but to be a regular peacemaker starting next week."

Sam stared at his sharp knuckles and decided to kill him. The fingers retreated into the darkness and she heard the faint click of his heels.

Sam felt around her pillow with her eyes closed. She happily closed her fingers around the cylindrical object. Tomorrow, she would have to invest $ 50 to implement her plan. Sam was feverishly searching for a safe place to hide the thing. She chose the hollow of one of her bedposts and tried to fall asleep. She stared defiantly into the darkness. From tomorrow - Showtime - and her.

Sam spent the next morning nervously anxious, polishing her plan. When the women were taken to the common room at noon, she approached a guard whom she considered receptive because of his advanced age. She pulled him over, to one of the steel columns, in order to present her request, off the beaten track. He looked at her with raised eyebrows and told her several times to repeat her wish. In the end, Sam put the $ 50 deep into his waistband and prayed that she had invested her scarce cash resources profitably.