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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I don’t know what to do. Well, he’s the one who sent me the article, so he knows already how near at hand is our peril. The decision is his. He can come if he wants, or leave us if he doesn’t.
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I walked around the scene of the crime, if suicide by gruesome means can be considered a crime. Is it? Surely not. If suicide is illegal, then nothing in the world makes sense.
At any rate, Mrs. Easley harmed no one but herself, however violently she might have done so. I did not want to investigate it. There was nothing I could tell the earnest, frightened policemen. Nothing to ease their worry or reassure them that this was an isolated incident. They already knew it wasn’t. They already knew about the Hamiltons; and they knew about the Davids, the Jessups. They knew about Mr. Winters and Miss Angeline Frye. They were aware of the situation with Harlan Sykes.
They know they might be next. Oh, those poor boys. They are so afraid.
I am jealous of them, because they do not know how afraid they ought to be.
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I left the scene without taking notes. I did not mention the waterlogged floor, the damp-damaged walls, or the scissor handles protruding from the woman’s face, like a demented pair of spectacles. I made no commentary on the blood—they thought it must be too much for one corpse to hold, but they were mistaken. The water made it look worse, having diluted and spread the gore around; if you don’t know the viscosity of blood, you wouldn’t know the difference. Besides, those boys had no idea how much fluid a body can hold. They’d never seen one drained before. I have. In the war, but that wasn’t quite the same thing. Those were bodies broken apart, smashed and incomplete, oozing rather than gushing or spilling. So little left inside them that nothing pumped, ticked, or flowed.
I didn’t tell them any of that. I only told them that they knew where to find me, and I said I would send Inspector Wolf a wire.
I couldn’t if I wanted to. He’s never given me any contact information, or any office where a telegram might be received. I still have no idea who he works for, or why.
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All day, the knowledge that the monster was so close, and coming closer, weighed on me. All through those hours, I carried the weight of Zollicoffer’s impending arrival.