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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
  30. •   •   •
  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
  57. •   •   •
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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
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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
  206. •   •   •

He stalled. I prodded him further. “Very good. You and your wife were home, alive and well, and Matthew was in his bedroom, having taken to his bed. Then something changed. What was it?”

He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

“We . . . we heard something, in his room.”

“He cried out?”

“No, it wasn’t a cry. It wasn’t . . . it didn’t sound like him. It wasn’t a sound a boy could make, or I wouldn’t’ve thought so.” He shuddered, and clutched at his own arms, hugging himself and smearing more blood from the spattered, soaked-in pools that marred the sweater. I wondered why no one had brought him something else to wear, but maybe they had. Maybe he’d refused. He was so unbalanced, he might’ve demanded or rejected anything.

“What did it sound like, then—if it wasn’t a cry?”

He released his arms, and his hands settled atop the table, where they shook, leaving short streaks of bloody fingerprints dampening the wood beneath them. “It sounded like . . . a wet machine,” he said at last.

The officer to his right said, “I beg your pardon?” before I had a chance to say it myself.

Ebenezer tossed his hands in the air in a broad shrug, and let them flop back down atop the table once more. “It weren’t a sound like any animal I ever heard! Or any person, that’s for damn sure!” To emphasize his point, he pounded his fist against the wood. “It weren’t a sound like a living thing makes!”

“Ebenezer, please, remain calm. I believe you; I just don’t understand you.”

“It sounded like a grinding thing, all right? Like . . . like . . . a big millstone, underwater—with its wheel clanking right along, muffled and soggy-like. And it came from Matty’s room!” he insisted with all his might. “Neither me or Lissy could figure out what it might be, so we went to go look—you understand?”

“The pair of you? Together?” I asked, hoping to bring him back to the tale, away from the speculation.

“That’s right, both of us. We opened the door and . . . and . . . and . . .” His eyes grew frantic, and his hands fluttered. I was afraid I was about to lose his attention—and he was on the cusp of losing his sanity.

I said to the two officers seated beside him, “Gentlemen, could you possibly give us a moment alone? I’m afraid the audience is a bit much for him. Please, if you could be so kind?”

They exchanged glances, and I knew they were considering their jobs, and the correct procedures in a case like this. But I had a very firm suspicion that there was no such thing as a “case like this,” and I was furthermore confident that Ebenezer would speak more openly to me, and me alone.

“He’s not been charged with a crime, has he?”