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Back Maplecroft
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
  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. •   •   •

The interior was a sadly familiar place. My own wife had been buried through that same establishment, as had a number of other friends and patients through the years. In a town so small, everyone is a friend, or a cousin, or a neighbor at the very least. When one person dies, it’s likely that half of Fall River will turn out to pay respects—or watch others do so.

In the reception area we stood uncertainly. It was a warm place, without anywhere significant to sit; it was a place for exchanging condolences and news, and to ready oneself for the service as needed. The floors were covered in pretty, detailed rugs, and the windows were set with colored glass reminiscent of a church, in the area we all called the chapel.

A small white-haired woman poked her head around the corner, and I recognized her as Martha Wann, wife of the elder brother.

She recognized me in turn. “Doctor Seabury, hello. The sheriff said you’d be here this morning.” She joined us in the foyer, and performed a little bow. To Wolf she said, “You must be the fellow from Boston.”

“Inspector Wolf, yes.” He returned her little bow. “A pleasure to meet you, though it’s a pity the circumstances are so unfortunate. Please, could you take us to the Hamiltons?”

Solemnly she nodded. “Certainly, gentlemen. This way.”

She led us back into the chapel, past the rows of simple wood chairs and through a door, beyond which we found a set of stairs. “The real work happens below, you understand,” she delicately explained. “But the good doctor here, he knew that already.”

“You’ve assisted with such things before?” Wolf asked me.

“A handful of times, when there’s been uncertainty.”

“About the cause of death?”

“Yes,” I said. “But sometimes, I attempt to help identify an unknown body. They wash up from time to time, over at the rocks. Sailors and the like.”

“And we return to the unknown, once again. That kind of identification must be tricky.”

“Always. As often as not, all I can do is describe teeth, tattoos, and scars, or any bones that have broken and healed, in the case of a skeleton. Sometimes these things help a man’s mortal remains find their way home, to the people who’ve missed him.”

“But not always?”

I shook my head. “No, not always.”

Mrs. Wann opened another door and held it for us, ushering us inside. “In here you’ll find what you’re looking for, but as a matter of kindness, I must warn you—it’s not a pretty sight. Whatever became of them . . . I . . . I can’t say. I’ve never seen its like. You really should prepare yourselves.”