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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
  206. •   •   •

Greer’s office door banged open, and Dr. Madison stood there, his mouth hanging open like a wound. He began to shout, and his shouting was even worse than Greer’s, which was truly saying something. His shouting took longer to stop. I had to drag him inside. He kept saying “No,” as if he firmly believed this couldn’t happen, and therefore it must not be happening.

But I was unstoppable, and I did not stop.

I left them lying together, their blood pooling into puddles, into deep enough puddles to drown in. Into ponds. Into lakes. And She told me not to watch it, that I had to keep going. I must not stop.

I was unstoppable.

HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON

Owen Seabury, M.D.

APRIL 19, 1894

The Boston inspector didn’t arrive yesterday morning as I was promised, but he came this morning instead—bright and early, if not so early as the sheriff had the day before. The sun was up, I’d had my coffee and toast, and I was as prepared as one could hope for what we were bound to find in the Hamilton home, where two people had died, and now nobody lived.

The inspector’s name was Simon Wolf, a fine name for a man who hunts wrongdoers—but aside from his peculiarly practical nomenclature, he wasn’t at all what I expected. Rather short, somewhat wide, and thickly bespectacled, Wolf was nonetheless a sharp-witted man with an air of crisp professionalism about him. I knew immediately that I liked him, and that I could work with him.

Together we approached Hamilton’s Ocean Goods and Supplies, the store which the Hamiltons had kept, and within which they’d lived (in the back rooms, apart from the business front).

The main entryway was closed off with rope, more for show than for restraint. A sign hung from the rope, announcing that the shop was “Closed Indefinitely,” with the subsequent admonition, “Do Not Enter Without Police Approval.”

But as Wolf put it, “My approval is somewhat more official than mere police permission. So I’ll see to the knot.”

“But you’re a policeman, aren’t you?”

“Something like that.”

“I meant no offense, of course,” I said, fearing I might have caused some all the same.

He waved away my concerns. “None taken. Our offices work in close conjunction. Fine men, the Boston police. But no, I’m not one of them. Good heavens, it’s a devil of a knot.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I did not inquire further. Instead I said, “I have a penknife, if you think it’d help . . .”