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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
  57. •   •   •
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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. •   •   •

Whatever these things are, I am positive they’re related to the Fall River Madness; but I don’t think they are victims of any illness, supernatural or otherwise. More likely, they’re a vector.

Lizbeth does not seem to think so, but she’s not a medical professional—she’s a research enthusiast, coming at the problem with Bibles, tomes, and texts of ancient magic. I do not record this to demean her efforts, for she’s accomplished such great things that I dare not call her an amateur—indeed, if there’s any expert on earth with regard to this Problem, it’s her.

But I wish she’d confided in me sooner. I wish she’d invited some third party to lend perspective, or at least approach the matter from another angle or two. We might have saved some of those who’ve fallen. Or then again, we might not. And to be clear, I understand why it’s taken her this long to admit someone into her strange little circle. It took great courage—and no small measure of Emma’s prompting, I suspect—for her to do so.

So, we’ve become a team late in the game, but now we’re coming at the Problem as a united front. We must make the best of it. We must pool our resources—Lizbeth’s copious research, and my education—and find some set of overlapping details, some recognizable pattern, however peculiar or unlikely.

We must save Nance O’Neil, and then Maplecroft, and then Fall River. Then Massachusetts, and the nation, and the world if it should come to that, and I fear that it might. The thought is so huge, it makes me choke. But if I choke, and the ladies are overcome by the terrible professor on his insane, inhuman errands . . . what hope is left?

•   •   •

I’ve spent over an hour staring at the list of symptoms, compiled above. I’m seeing something, yet I’m missing something, too. I feel like there’s a thread flowing between them, and I’m not catching it.

I’m either looking too hard, or not looking hard enough.

I’m reminded of something, but reminded so barely, so faintly, that I can’t lure the memory to my mind’s surface. I refuse to believe that it’s mere desperation or false hope bubbling up to taunt me.

There’s something here. And I will find it.

Lizzie Andrew Borden

APRIL 30, 1894

It’s been a day of hope, and a day of misery. I’m tempted to say that on the balance, it evens out . . . but with Nance’s life and sanity in some kind of suspension, it’s difficult to lend too much weight to what scant hope did manage to appear.