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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
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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
  69. •   •   •
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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
  103. •   •   •
  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
  138. •   •   •
  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. •   •   •

I looked around and saw mostly black stripes of shadow cast by the windowpanes and curtains. I saw the outlines of fixtures and furniture, small statues and a pair of matching vases, the lacy shapes of doilies and shawls tossed across the divan, candlesticks they didn’t need (now that the house had gas), and shards of broken glass. I do not know where it came from—if it was windows or picture frames or art glass from the shelves and cabinets.

My feet crunched upon it, announcing my presence as I dithered, unsure of myself.

I’d been in the parlor a hundred times. A thousand times. More than that, I knew . . . Where was the cabinet? I’d seen it. I’d leaned against it. I’d served myself a drink from it, when invited to do so. Suddenly I couldn’t picture it to save my life; I stuttered on the entryway rug, then staggered to the hallway runner and then, yes, the parlor.

There it was.

I ripped the drawer open so hard I pulled it right off its rails and the gun toppled to the floor—along with a box of bullets that burst open, scattering its contents across the carpet. I dropped to my knees, scavenged a handful, and grabbed the gun, a service revolver. Its weight told me it was loaded.

•   •   •

(Funny, the things you remember, from the old days in service. Old habits, old memories. My hands recalled the feel, the balance. The shape of the handle. It was similar to my own, the one I’d lost in the water. I think I lost it in the water. Might have lost it somewhere else. Likely, I’ll never know.)

•   •   •

By the time I got to my feet, I could see Lizzie on the move outside.

Her dress billowed and she looked like a vengeful ghost, she moved so swiftly and with such grace—the wind tearing her hair and her clothes as she parried, struck, and swung with the axe she’d sharpened each night with deadly precision. She seemed bigger, wilder. Positively preternatural, though I saw her efforts only in fits and starts through the narrow frame of the doorway.

I was mesmerized for the moment.

She called my name. Not “Doctor,” but “Owen!”

It was the first time I’d ever heard her say it. The informality worked. It roused me from my stupor, and surprised me into motion. I ran outside, ducking past her and narrowly missing the pendulum swing of the axe, sweeping in a terrible arc. It was a pure coincidence of timing that she missed me. I surely wasn’t paying enough attention to have dodged the blow on purpose.

But I came out shooting.

I took her place on the porch, and I opened fire.

She ducked behind me, and disappeared inside.

I stood my ground, and I guarded the front door.