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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
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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
  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
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“You’re looking for magic, Lizzie. God doesn’t give us magic, only science.”

“Last century’s magic is this year’s science,” I argued.

“Point taken, but by now I am forced to wonder who you think is listening, when you offer up these petitions. The Lord? Some papist saint? Some old goddess, left over from darker times, in darker corners of the earth?”

“I’m praying to anyone who listens,” I told her. “The Divine has many names. I doubt He cares which one I call. Or She, for all we know. Doesn’t the Bible say we were created in God’s image, male and female?”

“You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

“We’re living on dangerous ground. And we can’t seem to leave it, so I’ll work on making it less dangerous—which, yes, is a dangerous effort in itself.” Exasperated with both her and myself, I threw up my hands. “I’m not sure what you want from me, Emma. I am doing my best, and that’s all that can be asked of me.”

“No one is asking more. But I fear for you, out there, downstairs, fighting monsters. You touch these things, and they touch you back.”

BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING

Nance O’Neil

APRIL 16, 1894

I arrived in Fall River around noon, having caught a ride from the train station with a nice young man who’d seen me in Hamlet last year. I could hardly believe he remembered me, much less recognized me now, but such is the power of theater, I suppose. There may not be any money in it, but there’s a certain kind of renown for the right kind of girl. And once in a while, that renown translates to a free ride into town, and to a loved one’s house.

The young man in question . . . oh, I’ve already forgotten his name. Francis? Frederick? Something like that. You’d think that someone who earns a living memorizing pages upon pages of other people’s words would have an easier time remembering other people’s names, but you’d be mistaken on that point. I’ve always been terrible about it. Likely, I always will be.

But this young man, “F,” was so wide-eyed and scandalized when I told him where I was going. I couldn’t decide whether to be offended or amused, so I settled on amused. Lizbeth is the kindest, wisest, most caring soul in the world, and I’ve never before cared about what the papers have to say. Why start now?

(Knowing what the papers say and caring about it . . . those are two different things.)