Chapters (206)
- Praise for Maplecroft
- Title page
- Copyright page
- Contents
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
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- A DOCTOR, A LAWYER, A MERCHANT, A CHIEF
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- Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
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- I CROSS THE MAGPIE, THE MAGPIE CROSSES ME
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- Nance O’Neil
- THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
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- AND IF YOU HAVE A HORSE WITH ONE WHITE LEG . . .
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- THE WORST IS TO BE JUDGED WITHOUT HOPE
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING
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- CUT THEM ON FRIDAY, YOU CUT THEM FOR SORROW
- Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
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- HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON
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- A DWELLING PLACE OF JACKALS, THE DESOLATION FOREVER
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Nance O’Neil
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- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- RIGHT CHEEK, LEFT CHEEK—WHY DO YOU BURN?
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- Aaron B. Stewart, Fire Chief, Farthington, Mass.
- Emma L. Borden
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- Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
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- DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
- Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
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- Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
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- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Emma L. Borden
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- FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Inspector Simon Wolf
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Emma sounded unbearably weary. I’m sure I did, too, when I replied with what pitiful hope I could muster, “Between us, we may have collected enough details to see those patterns. If there are any.”
“Lizzie?”
“Yes?”
“Your nose . . . it’s bleeding again. Or still, I don’t know.”
I felt the trickle even as she pointed it out. I rubbed it with the back of my bare arm again, and a second streak of red joined the first, which now had flaked and faded. This time, I noticed the pain. I rose to my feet and went in search of a tea towel. Upon finding one, I held it to my face and remained standing in the space between the kitchen and the parlor.
“I must look a sight,” I said, my voice muffled by the fabric. “God knows what the Wilsons thought, when I knocked so desperately on the door for Jacob. But they didn’t say anything.”
“They were too surprised, I’m sure.”
I dropped onto the arm of the settee. It creaked beneath me. But then the door rattled under the knock of a heavy hand, and I jumped to my feet once more.
“The doctor,” Emma breathed.
I opened the door and almost dragged him inside, babbling as I drew him into the parlor.
“It’s Nance, Doctor Seabury. She’s stumbled into my research, and she’s become infected, or afflicted, or I don’t know what word you’d use—I’m sure there’s a better one, something medical that applies, but I don’t know it, and she’s gone catatonic, and please,” I begged. “Please, will you help her?”
In a moment, he was at her side and unfastening the latch on his bag. He was rumpled, in that way of a man who’s been ready to settle in for the night—only to be rallied before bedtime. I was so overwhelmed with gratitude that I felt positively embarrassed.
“I’ll do my best,” he promised, and he proceeded to poke and prod her with the diligence of a seasoned professional. He checked her pulse and her pupils, frowning at the state of her eyes and their failure to blink. He felt at her throat, and her belly; he clapped his hands in front of her face and received no response whatsoever.
He sat back on his heels. “How long as she been like this?”
Wretchedly, I confessed, “I’m not sure. Half an hour?”
“Closer to a full one,” Emma corrected me. “I heard her come downstairs. I heard her open the cellar door . . .” She stopped herself, unsure of how much she wanted to share. Then she continued, “I tried to summon Lizzie,” and then to the doctor, “I have a bell, you know. But it took her quite some time to come around.”