“The expression ‘a taste of their own medicine’ would fit here, since that medicine is, indeed, a part of the recipe,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, causing the sisters to cackle with glee. “Tonight will be the Adderall cuisine.” He pointed to the mortar and pestle sitting in the butler pantry. “A little more than a pinch should do.” More hooting and laughing came from the girls. “And tomorrow phenobarbital will be the plat du jour.”

Myra explained they were going to put Steinwood and Corbett on the same roller-coaster ride they had inflicted on their trusting patients.

Annie chimed in with the entertainment part of the program. “Isabelle and Nikki created a video loop they’ll be forced to watch twenty-four/seven as they take their mind-bending rides. Fergus and Charles installed sixty-inch TV screens on all four walls of each cell. It will be bigger than life. Our version of an IMAX theater.” She couldn’t help but giggle. “We’ll show you the video after dinner.”

“Speaking of dinner, the coq au vin is ready.” Charles took a short bow and motioned to the buffet. The chicken had been prepared to perfection, along with the egg noodles, mashed potatoes, and biscuits. A side of crumbled bacon was there for anyone who wanted to use it to garnish the chicken.

As the sisters filled their plates, they chatted about their day, significant others, hobbies, and the news. From the upbeat mood of the room, no one would suspect they were holding two despicable men several feet below. But not unexpectedly for the sisters, that was exactly the mood they would be in knowing that they had put an end to terrible wrong-doings and that justice would be served—literally.

An hour later, the kitchen was spick and span. Not a crumb in sight. This time it took less than twelve minutes. The women scrambled to the war room to watch the video Isabelle and Nikki had produced, and saluted Lady Justice as they entered.

Once everyone was seated, Charles fired up all the monitors. The first shot was the front page of the Post, with the headline BITTER PILL! There was an accompanying photo montage of Corbett, taken after he had spent two nights in his cell. He looked exactly like someone who had slept in a box with a bucket of human waste. To say he resembled a derelict would be an insult to the derelicts of the world. There was no sign of a cashmere blazer or ascot, gold cuff links, or Italian leather. Steinwood had a similar look but with much more fear in his eyes. The only footage they had of Marcus was the police photo taken at the scene where he was found. He looked like a smashed pumpkin, only white.