BooksBarbecue
Back Maplecroft Save as PDF
Chapters (206)
  1. Praise for Maplecroft
  2. Title page
  3. Copyright page
  4. Contents
  5. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  6. THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
  7. •   •   •
  8. •   •   •
  9. •   •   •
  10. •   •   •
  11. •   •   •
  12. A DOCTOR, A LAWYER, A MERCHANT, A CHIEF
  13. •   •   •
  14. •   •   •
  15. •   •   •
  16. •   •   •
  17. •   •   •
  18. •   •   •
  19. •   •   •
  20. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
  21. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  22. •   •   •
  23. •   •   •
  24. •   •   •
  25. •   •   •
  26. BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
  27. •   •   •
  28. •   •   •
  29. I CROSS THE MAGPIE, THE MAGPIE CROSSES ME
  30. •   •   •
  31. Nance O’Neil
  32. THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
  33. •   •   •
  34. •   •   •
  35. •   •   •
  36. •   •   •
  37. AND IF YOU HAVE A HORSE WITH ONE WHITE LEG . . .
  38. •   •   •
  39. •   •   •
  40. •   •   •
  41. •   •   •
  42. •   •   •
  43. THE WORST IS TO BE JUDGED WITHOUT HOPE
  44. •   •   •
  45. •   •   •
  46. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  47. •   •   •
  48. •   •   •
  49. •   •   •
  50. •   •   •
  51. •   •   •
  52. •   •   •
  53. BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING
  54. •   •   •
  55. CUT THEM ON FRIDAY, YOU CUT THEM FOR SORROW
  56. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
  57. •   •   •
  58. •   •   •
  59. •   •   •
  60. •   •   •
  61. •   •   •
  62. HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON
  63. •   •   •
  64. •   •   •
  65. •   •   •
  66. •   •   •
  67. A DWELLING PLACE OF JACKALS, THE DESOLATION FOREVER
  68. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  69. •   •   •
  70. •   •   •
  71. Nance O’Neil
  72. •   •   •
  73. •   •   •
  74. •   •   •
  75. •   •   •
  76. •   •   •
  77. •   •   •
  78. •   •   •
  79. •   •   •
  80. •   •   •
  81. •   •   •
  82. •   •   •
  83. •   •   •
  84. Emma L. Borden
  85. •   •   •
  86. •   •   •
  87. •   •   •
  88. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  89. •   •   •
  90. •   •   •
  91. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  92. •   •   •
  93. RIGHT CHEEK, LEFT CHEEK—WHY DO YOU BURN?
  94. •   •   •
  95. •   •   •
  96. •   •   •
  97. •   •   •
  98. •   •   •
  99. •   •   •
  100. •   •   •
  101. Aaron B. Stewart, Fire Chief, Farthington, Mass.
  102. Emma L. Borden
  103. •   •   •
  104. Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
  105. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  106. •   •   •
  107. Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
  108. •   •   •
  109. DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
  110. Emma L. Borden
  111. •   •   •
  112. •   •   •
  113. •   •   •
  114. •   •   •
  115. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  116. •   •   •
  117. •   •   •
  118. •   •   •
  119. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  120. •   •   •
  121. •   •   •
  122. •   •   •
  123. •   •   •
  124. •   •   •
  125. •   •   •
  126. •   •   •
  127. •   •   •
  128. •   •   •
  129. •   •   •
  130. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  131. Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
  132. •   •   •
  133. •   •   •
  134. •   •   •
  135. •   •   •
  136. •   •   •
  137. Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
  138. •   •   •
  139. Emma L. Borden
  140. •   •   •
  141. •   •   •
  142. •   •   •
  143. •   •   •
  144. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  145. •   •   •
  146. •   •   •
  147. •   •   •
  148. •   •   •
  149. •   •   •
  150. Emma L. Borden
  151. •   •   •
  152. •   •   •
  153. FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
  154. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  155. •   •   •
  156. •   •   •
  157. •   •   •
  158. •   •   •
  159. •   •   •
  160. •   •   •
  161. •   •   •
  162. •   •   •
  163. •   •   •
  164. •   •   •
  165. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  166. •   •   •
  167. •   •   •
  168. •   •   •
  169. •   •   •
  170. •   •   •
  171. •   •   •
  172. •   •   •
  173. •   •   •
  174. •   •   •
  175. •   •   •
  176. Emma L. Borden
  177. •   •   •
  178. •   •   •
  179. •   •   •
  180. •   •   •
  181. •   •   •
  182. •   •   •
  183. •   •   •
  184. •   •   •
  185. •   •   •
  186. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  187. •   •   •
  188. •   •   •
  189. •   •   •
  190. •   •   •
  191. •   •   •
  192. •   •   •
  193. •   •   •
  194. •   •   •
  195. •   •   •
  196. •   •   •
  197. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  198. •   •   •
  199. •   •   •
  200. •   •   •
  201. •   •   •
  202. •   •   •
  203. •   •   •
  204. •   •   •
  205. Inspector Simon Wolf
  206. •   •   •

I sighed. “By now, you should call me Lizbeth, propriety be damned.”

“It usually is. What are you collecting in the basement, Lizbeth?”

“Evidence. Research. Samples. Nance was lured there by the contents of a box, which I’d sealed up as best I could—but it clearly wasn’t enough.”

“What was in the box?”

“Beach glass, to the casual eye. Tumbled rocks and gems.”

His eyes went distant, then focused sharply. “Beach glass?”

“Pieces I’ve found, here and there. They call me, too,” I admitted, though I hated to hear myself say it. “I’ve made efforts to study them, and determine—”

“Just . . . little pieces of glass, from the shore?” he interrupted.

“Green ones, usually. Sometimes I find them embedded in sandstone or lime, or polished and set into jewelry. But they always speak the same way, call the same . . . well, it’s not a song.” I struggled for the words.

“I’ve seen them,” he said softly, but suddenly—before I could continue. “In the barrel at Hamilton’s, the odds and ends, bits and bobs. The ones Matthew collected for the shop.”

The connection clicked, in both our heads. Our eyes met.

I said, “They called him, too.”

“And your stepmother,” he said sharply, and with wonder. Like it’d only just occurred to him. “She wore something. I saw it on her once or twice. A necklace . . .” On some instinct, or half-spied detail he’d only just recalled, his gaze jerked down to Nance’s neck. A thin red line marked the spot where I’d pulled the necklace off, breaking it and leaving a narrow welt.

“Nance found it.” I offered it up as a whisper. I couldn’t bring myself to say it any louder. “She’d put it on. I took it away from her.”

Excitedly, he shifted to face me. “But you knew—you knew it was the necklace. And in time, you learned it was the stones themselves, and there were others like it.”

“Yes, but I don’t know what they mean, or where they come from. I don’t know how they call, or . . . or . . . Doctor, I’ve tried everything. That’s what’s in the cellar: my laboratory, where I’ve performed what experiments my limited knowledge and resources have contrived.”

“I must see it. You must show it to me,” he said eagerly, and I wasn’t sure if I was thrilled or worried by the enthusiasm. I didn’t have time to decide, for it was in that narrow space between the two that Nance began to speak.

I knelt down next to her and collected one of her hands, squeezing it between my own. Doctor Seabury stood aside so I could reach her more easily, I could stroke her face, I could kiss her forehead and breathe the smell of her hair.

“Nance, darling, what is it? Are you there? Can you hear me?”