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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
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  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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“I do,” I assured him, and I was horrified to realize I was telling him the truth. “I do believe you.”

“I dragged her back out of the room, into the hallway, and some of the water came with her, but most of it stayed in there with Matty. I pushed on her chest, you know—seeing if she was breathing, or if I could start her up again. I put my head on her chest and her heart wasn’t beating, so I pushed some more, and I turned her head to the side, and out of her mouth there was . . . there was . . . all this blood. It came streaming right out of her, pouring and pouring, like the water down the walls in Matty’s room.”

He fell silent, and in this new state of quiet I could hear footsteps outside the room, coming toward us. I sensed our time was drawing to a close, so I asked one last question. “What about Matthew? What about the sound you heard?”

“I stood up, once I knew my wife was done. I went back into the room, and Matty was lying half on the bed, half off it. There wasn’t any more sound. There wasn’t any more water, but everything was still wet.”

The sheriff’s knock announced him, and he interrupted us curtly, if politely. “Doctor, I thank you for your time, but the Boston office has sent a telegram asking us to send Mr. Hamilton along to them. There’ll be an investigator here in the morning. Later in the morning,” he corrected himself with a sigh.

“I understand,” I said, and I patted at Ebenezer’s hand. He didn’t react, either to the news or to my awkward ministrations.

Duffy added, “The investigator’s asked for a doctor’s company while he looks at the scene. Can we send him your way, when he arrives?”

“Yes, by all means. Send for me at my home. I’ll . . . do my best, I suppose, to get another few hours of sleep.” Though I knew good and well that I wouldn’t.

I wished Ebenezer Hamilton well, and before I left, I leaned in close—putting a hand on his shoulder. Into his ear, I said, “I believe you, and I will do what I can to defend you, and support you.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said, but he was hardly present anymore. His mind was back in that room with his dead wife, and dead godson. And I’ll never forget the last thing he murmured, as I left the room. Not to me, and maybe not to himself. Maybe it was a prayer, or an observation for the sheriff, I couldn’t say—but it was that last sentiment that kept me from returning to my bed for any further rest.

“That sound . . . that sound, it came from his mouth. It was the song of something dying. Something that never did live.”