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Back Maplecroft
Chapters (206)
  1. Praise for Maplecroft
  2. Title page
  3. Copyright page
  4. Contents
  5. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  6. THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
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  12. A DOCTOR, A LAWYER, A MERCHANT, A CHIEF
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  20. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
  21. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  26. BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
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  29. I CROSS THE MAGPIE, THE MAGPIE CROSSES ME
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  31. Nance O’Neil
  32. THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
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  37. AND IF YOU HAVE A HORSE WITH ONE WHITE LEG . . .
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  43. THE WORST IS TO BE JUDGED WITHOUT HOPE
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  46. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  53. BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING
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  55. CUT THEM ON FRIDAY, YOU CUT THEM FOR SORROW
  56. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
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  62. HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON
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  67. A DWELLING PLACE OF JACKALS, THE DESOLATION FOREVER
  68. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  71. Nance O’Neil
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  84. Emma L. Borden
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  88. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  91. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  93. RIGHT CHEEK, LEFT CHEEK—WHY DO YOU BURN?
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  101. Aaron B. Stewart, Fire Chief, Farthington, Mass.
  102. Emma L. Borden
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  104. Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
  105. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  107. Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
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  109. DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
  110. Emma L. Borden
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  115. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  119. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  130. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  131. Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
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  137. Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
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  139. Emma L. Borden
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  144. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  150. Emma L. Borden
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  153. FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
  154. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  165. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  176. Emma L. Borden
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  186. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  197. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  205. Inspector Simon Wolf
  206. •   •   •

He was joined by a man called Inspector Wolf, a name both ludicrous and accurate. Ludicrous, because you never saw a man who looked less like a wolf: he’s a short, fat thing with a squint, watching the world from behind a pair of spectacles that might not be strong enough for him. I’ll grant you, he’s a sharp dresser. Maybe that’s true of all gentlemen from Boston. I don’t know; I haven’t seen a large enough sampling. But he wears black and white, and everything is pressed and shined to its appropriate degree. Cleanliness and godliness, and all that rot.

I would’ve preferred some warning, prior to meeting him. Then again, I would have preferred a great many things which are well outside my grasp, so there’s no sense in sulking. The good doctor has done well by us—as best as he could, given the circumstances. I know he meant no harm, and likely meant only to protect us from further inquiry, but still. I found the whole thing stressful beyond belief.

(As if Nance weren’t already problem enough. She’s presently secured to a sturdy set of mahogany bedposts in the second guest room. Lizzie lingers by her at every spare opportunity, but I can’t say there’s been any real change since the other night. She moans and fusses. She struggles and whines. She chants, or asks, or whatever she’s doing, to be let out . . . out . . . out . . . until I’m so sick of the word that I wish to stitch her lips shut and throw her into the ocean. Would that be far enough out for her?

God, look at me. I’m coming apart at the seams. We all are. We all must be civil, instead. I must throw away these pages, lest Lizzie should see them.

But I’ll write them first.)

•   •   •

The doctor came by, knocking on the door around lunchtime—when I was down in the parlor and Lizzie was in the kitchen, making cucumber sandwiches. I’d made my way downstairs myself, much to my sister’s irritation; now she complained she had to go up and down the stairs every time she need tend to one of us, or the other.

But I don’t always need tending, and I never want it. Sometimes I want to finish dressing myself and with the help of my cane, descend the stairs like a more or less normal woman who’d care to read the newspaper in the parlor today. A woman who’s sick of being sick, and can’t bear the thought of lying down another goddamn moment.

So I was in the parlor, and not in my room. When the knock came, I mean.