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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At the risk of talking out of turn, I may have additional details which aren’t quite public. Say what you will about my job behind a desk, but this desk is covered day in and day out with rumor, flashed back and forth across the country at the speed of electricity. You’d do well to take advantage of my inadvertent eavesdropping.
For example, did you know that there is talk of an altar? You know, like the kind in church, only not intended to praise the God of Love, I can promise you that much. Apparently, at the Wakefield scene and the Campton scene both, there was evidence of unholy worship, and again, it’s possible that a similar setup was in use at the Franklin cannery. The fire chief found something in the ashes, and he refused to identify it formally, but when drinking with friends, he confessed it looked like it could’ve been some kind of sacrificial table, or cabinet, or . . . well, he declined to use the word “altar” as if he deliberately shied away from it.
But we’re fooling ourselves if we don’t admit the obvious.
These evil acts are performed by a group of men, and maybe women as well—you can’t count them out. A group that follows the devil, that’s how all signs point. The ritualistic murders, the altars, the frantic quiet of law enforcement officials like yourself . . . You don’t want to cause a panic, and that desire is indeed commendable. But if you plan to withhold the facts until the case is closed, then surely your obligation is to close it quickly, and through any means necessary?
I’m better means than you might expect.
You’re wrong when you complain of my imagination. It’s not a nuisance; it’s a virtue. You’re wrong also when you assume my skills are less worthy than yours; though our abilities may differ, they have commensurate value. To be blunt, people will talk to me before they’ll talk to you. They suspect you of watching them, and waiting for some misstep that might incur a fine or a jail cell—and even the most innocent of men will balk if he thinks it a possibility. They second-guess their every move, and wonder what wrong turn they’ve taken today, that you darken their doors.
But me? I’m the friendly neighborhood gossip.
Whether that embarrasses you or not, you’d be foolish to deny that my sociable nature is useful. Should you think otherwise, then I offer you a small tidbit for future thought: Ask your Boston investigator what he makes of the tentacles.
Owen Seabury, M.D.
APRIL 28, 1894
I was stunned—and not at all displeased—to find Inspector Wolf on my doorstep this morning.