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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She said my name loudly, and it startled me. I jumped, a feeling of childish guilt washing through my chest, though I’d done nothing wrong. “Lizbeth!” I said her name back, with mock drama. “You startled me! Why would you shout like that?”
Her eyes looked old, very old. One way or another, she was about to lie to me.
“I called your name two or three times, and you didn’t hear me. What are you doing? I thought you were making tea, but look—” She tapped the kettle with the back of her hand, quickly—to judge the temperature. “It’s gone cool.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It couldn’t possibly . . .” I’d only been standing there a minute, if that long. I stepped toward the counter and slipped on that damn towel, almost falling headlong into the sink. I felt dizzy, and drained. Like I’d misplaced something—something I couldn’t remember having lost. “Lizbeth, what’s in the cellar?” I asked, too dizzy to play whatever game she’d crafted in this place.
She put her arm around me and gave me a long squeeze. “Nothing’s in the cellar, darling. Nothing but cans, preserves, and a few jars. No true laboratory of any sort, regardless of what I might have blurted while drunk. There’s some wine, obviously, but most of it’s not any good, not anymore. It’s all gone to vinegar by now.” She emptied the kettle and refilled it from the pump at the sink. “I’ll just throw a new batch of water on the stove, and we can settle in with sandwiches. Would you like some? I can make some . . .”
I knew what she was doing. She was babbling, distracting me, even as she moved with great deliberation—like the deception was something that forced her to concentrate, and to perform. I still felt off my balance, like the room might have tilted while I wasn’t looking, and I hadn’t felt the shift.
“Sandwiches would be nice,” I told her. For all I knew, it was only hunger that made me so scattered. “But I still want you to show me the cellar.”
“Not now, Nance.” She said it firmly, but she didn’t turn around so she could lie to my face, when she added, “Later, maybe.” From the box on the counter, she withdrew some bread—and in the drawer beside her hip, she found a knife.
“Maybe tonight?”
“Oh, not tonight. It’ll be cold down there, and damp. But if it’s dry and warm, we could do it tomorrow.”
“And if it’s not?”
She shrugged. “Then some other time. The day after next, or after that. Or your next visit. You’ll come again one day, won’t you?” She faced me then, quickly—and with worry all over her lovely face.
I forced myself to smile. “Always. Whenever.”