Libby tries to rid herself of her boss.
“I should think you’d understand by now,” Silas Winn told his secretary.
“Understand what, sir?” Libby Century replied.
“I don’t care what you think.”
“You are not paid to think. You’re paid to do your job as I outline it to you and do it well and on time. That’s all.”
Libby continued to stand in front of his desk. He waved her away with an irritable hand. Without another word, she marched out of his office, slamming the door as hard as she could.
“That’s enough. I don’t have to take this kind of treatment!” Libby muttered as she grabbed her purse and left for lunch.
As she went out the door, she heard Winn shouting for her like he always did.
“Get your own lunch!” she growled.
On her way to eat, she picked up a paper. While she ate at an automat, she checked the want ads. When her eyes fell on a strange ad, she knew she had to call. She spoke briefly to a woman who agreed to help her for a fee.
Libby was elated and walked briskly home. Once there, she opened her mail, then sat at her typewriter to compose her letter of resignation. Once done, she call a messenger service and arranged to have it delivered tomorrow.
She heaved a sigh as a knock came on her door. She checked the peephole, applied the safety chain and opened the door.
“It’s done. Send the payment to the postal box in the ad. Oh, by the way…”
The female standing outside the door, pulled a silenced pistol and shot her point blank.
As she died, she heard:
“Your boss paid me a lot of money to rid himself of you. He said you think too much!”