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 stammered, “Doctor Seabury, that’s . . . that isn’t . . . I’m not quite certain what you mean.” Which was not quite true. I could make an excellent estimation, but I didn’t want to contaminate his story. That’s how Lizzie would put it. And she was in another room, perhaps even down in that laboratory, doing her scientific work with her scientific processes. I would conduct those same processes upstairs, then, and report in such a fashion as to please her.
“I’m very sorry, I didn’t intend any offense or concern, it’s only that in those last days, before their deaths, I had seen little of Abigail and less of your father—but . . . but when I crossed their paths, I . . . I could only fear for their constitutions. They seemed terribly sick, if you don’t mind my suggesting it.” He was speaking too fast again, my stammers feeding his stammers, spiraling us into social worry and sensitive concerns.
“No, please. No offense taken. It’s only that you’ve caught me by surprise. You’d think such a common subject of gossip would rear its head more often in this parlor, but”—and I paused to cough, not quite so hard, with not quite so much mucus—“our visitors are few and far between. Please, could you explain what you mean? We were all feeling . . . strange. Back in those dark days,” I added. I might have concluded, “Before they became darker still,” but that crept too close to the secret Lizzie and I hold close, so I did not utter it.
“You must understand, I cannot divulge too much of another patient’s condition,” he said by way of retreat.
“Naturally.” I nodded, allowing him to withdraw as far as he felt he needed. “But share what you can, and I’ll see if I can help.”
He fidgeted with my handkerchief, and then it occurred to him to return it. As he did so, he said, “There’s a faraway look to him, as if he’s not quite present. A vacant appearance, combined with a certain . . . slowness of his motion. As if his motor skills are deteriorating, but he hasn’t noticed, or doesn’t care. I watched him . . . ,” he said, his own gaze becoming far away, but he was looking for some way to explain himself. Hunting for the right words. “I watched him, and he moved clumsily, and at such a tedious pace. All the while, his head was cocked toward the ocean, like a child holding a shell to his ear. But there were no shells,” he said, coming back to the moment. To me. “Nothing beyond him but the water.”