was the next one to die. "Listen to me very carefully. Stay right where you are. Call me back in an hour."
"But Vito—"
"Just do it!" I hung up.
"Who was that?" asked Joey.
I jumped him, took him to the floor, and started banging his head against the stone. "Vito!" he screamed. "Vito! Stop! What are you doing? Ow!"
"Vito!" cried Father Michael "Stop!"
"Fucking maniac," said Carmine.
"Thought you'd get Joey Mannino, did you?" I shouted at the doppelgangster. "Well, think again, you bastard!"
"This is one of them?" the priest shrieked.
"Yes!" I kept banging its head against the floor. "And it's gonna tell me who's behind these hits!"
Its eyes rolled back into its head, it convulsed a few times, and then its head shattered like dry plaster.
"Whoa!" said Tony.
I looked down at the mess. Nothing but crumbled dust, lumps of dirt, and feathers where the thing's head had been. Then its body started disintegrating, too.
"I think you whacked it, Vito," said Tony.
Father Michael poured the whole rest of the bottle of wine down his throat before he spoke. "Well . . . I guess this means that Joey is safe now?"
"Not for long," I said. "Whoever did this will make another one the moment he knows this one has been . . . Wait a minute!"
"Vito? What is it?" said Tony.
"Maybe it's not a he," I said.
"Huh?"
"Think about it! Who would hit the Berninis and the Gambones? Who hates both families that much? Who wants all of us dead?"
"You saying the fucking Feds are behind this?"
"No, you asshole! I'm saying the one person who hates both families equally is behind this!" I grabbed a handful of the crap that had been Joey's doppelgangster a minute ago and waved it at these guys. "Feathers!"
"Vito, this is a very serious accusation," said Father Michael, slurring his words a little. "Are you absolutely sure?"
"Huh?" said Tony.
"Just fucking follow him," said Carmine as I ran for the same exit that the Widow Butera had taken.
I kicked in the door of her apartment without knocking. I'd figured out her scam by now, so I expected the feathers, the blood sacrifices, the candles, the chanting, and the photos of Bernini and Gambone family members.
I just didn't expect to see my own perfect double rising out of her magic fire like a genie coming out of a lantern. I pulled out my piece and fired at it.
"Noooo!" screamed the Widow Butera. She leapt at me, knocked my gun aside, and started clawing at my face.
"Kill it! Kill it!" I shouted at the others.
Carmine said, "I always wanted to do this to you, Vito," and started pumping bullets into my doppelgangster while I fought the Widow. Father Michael ran around the room praying loudly and drenching things in holy water. Tony took a baseball bat—don't ask me where he got it—and started destroying everything in sight: the amulets and charms hanging everywhere, the jars of powders and potions stacked on shelves, the cages containing live chickens, and the bottles of blood. My perfect double shattered into a million pieces in the hail of Carmine's bullets, and the pieces fell smoldering into the fire. Then Tony kicked at the fire until it was scattered all over the living room and started dying.
"It's a fucking shame about the carpet," Carmine said as chickens escaped the shattered cages and started running all over the room.
". . . blessed are thou, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb . . ." Father Michael was chanting.
"What else can I break? What else can I break?" Tony shouted.
"I'll kill you all!" the Widow screamed. "You're all dead!"
"Too late, sister, we're onto you now. You've whacked your last wiseguy," I said as she struggled in my grip.
"Three husbands I lost in your damned wars!" she screamed. "I told them to get out of organized crime and into something secure, like accounting or the restaurant business, but would they listen? Noooo!"
"Secure? The fucking restaurant business? Are you kidding me?"
"The Berninis and Gambones ruined my life!" the Widow Butera shrieked. "I will have vengeance on you all!"
"Repent! Repent!" Father Michael cried. Then he doused her with a whole bottle of holy water.
"Eeeeee!" She screamed something awful . . . and then started smoking like she was on fire.
I'm not dumb. I let go of her and backed away.
The room filled with smoke and the Widow's screams got louder, until they echoed so hard they made my teeth hurt . . . then faded. There was a dark scorch mark on