Ottaline watched Providence trotting around on Bach's back in the front yard. She was happy to see her sister so happy and moving with grace. She waved to her from the balcony before going back inside. She sought out Mr. Idris and found him in his rooms poring over papers. She realized she seldom found him doing much of anything else.

She knocked on the open door and he asked her to enter. Taking a seat at the opposite side of the desk she watched him for a moment. "Have you found out anything new?"

"I'm still trying to make connections," Idris said. "So far we have accusations but we don't have solid proof. These people's deaths have been accepted as accidents for years and now here I come saying it was murder and by the most affluent family in town."

Ottaline looked down at her hands when she realized the difficulty of it all. "I used to love detective games but now that I'm really in one...I wish I could escape."

Idris nodded. "I feel we have all the pieces except the most crucial one."

"The motive," Ottaline said and smiled when Idris nodded. "Maybe we should focus harder on Isaac Richmond. He's the oldest case we have followed by Miss Heritage and then my mother..." She thought. "What if it's all connected to him?"

"That's possible but we still don't have a motive," Idris said. "Granville thinks it was Ishmael that killed him. But if that's so then why? Why kill my own brother? Am I angry with him...jealous? Those reasons alone just don't seem like enough for me."

Ottaline shrugged. "It was enough for Cain," she said.

"True," Idris said. "But even then Cain was jealous over something Abel did or had."

Ottaline thought. "Maybe an inheritance." She suggested. "Isaac was the oldest, so maybe he was going to get more and Master Ishmael wanted it so he killed him. But then he'd still have to be second to Master Esau..."

Idris sighed. "Maybe we are looking in the wrong places," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean maybe Isaac is not the first."

"The first born?"

"No the first murdered."

Ottaline leaned back in her chair. It seemed the mystery would never end. But if the pattern stayed the same then that would mean this other victim was also a resident of Drinking Water and if that was the case then they were more than likely buried in Sabbath Cemetery.

/

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Mr. Arnold?

"I'm he."

"Idris St. Cloud." Idris extended his hand and he man shook it. "I'm here to inquire about the cemetery."

Mr. Arnold looked back into his house then stepped out of the way to let Idris in out of the mountain rain. He walked him past the kitchen where his wife was preparing food and took him into his private office.

"Well, Sonny what do you need to know?" he asked. "You trying to find out about some of those old weathered graves?"

"No, sir," Idris said. "I would like to see a record of the graves. I was told at the courthouse that you might keep such a book." Idris sat himself at the man's request and waited.

"I do," Arnold said. "But I only have information for so many decades back. What year are you looking for?

"Let's try the 70s." Idris said and Arnold turned to the cluttered shelf behind him. He ran his finger over several books before taking one down.

"My wife told me some strange man had come by asking about the cemetery before. That you?"

"Yes, sir," Idris said taking the book when it was held out to him. "I'm on what one would call a mission."

Arnold nodded. "You the one working for Esau Richmond? You Helping him manage his land?"

"Yes, he wants to cut down Richmond Wood." Idris said.

"Not only that but he's already ran several poor families off of the land he brought from Mr. Spencer. Esau is planning something for this town and I worry me and my Bess don't fit in with these plans."

Idris looked around the house. It was very cluttered but it had potential. "Does Richmond own your land?"

"No, but if he made me a good enough offer..." He lowered his voice. "Bess is stubborn; she could never stand Esau Richmond as he would lie for his younger brother when he used to harass our Becca and Scot."

"Your children?"

"Yes. Scot was a big boy for his age and very protective of his little sister and others like her. He moved away from this place as soon as he had the chance. He said it haunted him."

Idris flipped slowly though the book, scanning over the names and epitaphs that lined the pages like obituaries. He brushed the worn out spine of the book with his thumb then looked up at the others. They didn't look half as worn. He looked at Arnold who was craning his neck to see into the book. When Idris looked back down he was met with the face of a young girl.

"Angels softly keep for doth an angel here sleep," he read the epitaph. "Rebecca Arnold 1866-1878." He looked up.

"Sometimes children are careless and our Becca was vivacious," Arnold said. "She wanted to tag along with the boys when they played seeking games in Richmond Wood. She adored Isaac."

Idris' head shot up. "Isaac Richmond? Rebecca liked Isaac Richmond?"

"Wouldn't be quiet about him," Arnold said. "She couldn't keep a secret for long which I suppose is why she had such little friends but she was a good girl."

"Might I ask—"

"How she died?" Arnold interrupted. "Ate nightshade berries."

"Nightshade?"

"Grow like mad in Richmond Wood," Arnold said. "Took our little girl at only twelve." He shook his head. "I should have never let her play with those boys."

Idris closed the book and handed it back to him. He thought he had his answer. "Did Rebecca ever mention anything else besides her affection for Isaac Richmond?"

"She was very creative?" Arnold said with a smile. "The girl could make up stories about the wildest of things with songs and rhymes to match. I remember them...Baby in the cradle fox in the rye, four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie. Bride in the attack wolf at the door, these are the things of legend and lore."

Idris swallowed hard. "She'd sing that?"

"She'd chant it and spin and circles right there in the yard or in the cemetery when she came to work with me...wherever we went. Brigit Heritage sang one part thusly: Bones in the attic, Kitsune in the rye you live forever until you die."

"Brigit Heritage sang it with Rebecca?"

"Bess asked them what they were doing once and they said keeping bullies away. Years later I asked Brigit what it was about and she said it kept the Kitsune away from her. Once she was passing the cemetery while I was there putting a new headstone on a grave. She was singing it and she tried to get the colored woman with her to join in but she wouldn't."

"You mean Catherine Sabbath."

"I didn't know her until I buried her," Arnold said. "But I do remember Brigit again in the cemetery that day. She looked at me with tears in her eyes bouncing a little colored baby. She said it got her, the kitsune. I thought she had gone mad, what with holding a colored baby and declaring such things in public you know."

Idris nodded. "What is a kitsune?"

Arnold held up a finger then opened the book in his hands. "I didn't know for the longest time," he said licking his fingers and turning the pages. "Then..." He flipped one more. "I found this at the Richmond Mausoleum about three years ago." He pulled out a small slip of paper from the page that contained details about Isaac Richmond and handed it to Idris.

"A fox?" Idris questioned as he looked down at the drawing on the paper.

"It has nine tails," Arnold said. "I thought maybe it was for luck."

"I'm not so sure," Idris said staring down at the animal with a long exaggerated body."

"Well I can't tell you more about it than that." Arnold said taking back the paper. "It's only my job to bury the dead not to tell tales about them. Rebecca was the one for telling tales." He put the book back on the shelf. "She once told me that the devil really did live underground because she had been there and she had seen him. I just kissed her goodnight."

Idris stood. "Thank you kindly for all your help, Mr. Arnold."

"It was nothing," Arnold said. "You take care of yourself and don't get sick in that rain."

Idris nodded and collected his hat and umbrella at the door. He left the sad abode thinking now of Rebecca Arnold. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she was the first victim. The only puzzle that remained was why they all had to die.

/

"Lights are out at the Richmonds'," Granville said as he came into the dining room with more matches. "Good thing we are still used to eating by candlelight." He lit more candles on the table before taking his seat.

"What does Bach do when it storms?" Providence asked, returning to finishing off her broth.

"I suppose he finds shelter of his own where ever he can," Granville said.

"You don't think he ever gets scared?" Providence asked. "I'd be scared if I was outside in a storm like this."

"Well he's a lot bigger than us so he's probably less afraid." Ottaline said.

"Excellent analysis, Ottaline!" Granville said and Ottaline beamed.

Providence rolled her eyes. It seemed her sister had gotten over being scolded. "Mr. Heritage," she said. "What if I wanted to become a doctor? What would I need to do?"

"Well..." Granville said. "There is a lot to learn in that field. A mistake could mean someone's life."

"Well what if I only wanted to make life better for the disabled? I could open my own center where people would come from miles around to take therapy and learn to live a normal life even with broken or missing limbs."

"That sounds grand, Rovy," Ottaline said. "How did you think of such a thing?"

"Bach," Ottaline said. "He has inspired me. I love him!"

Ottaline sipped her juice. "If you had a place like that then people just may feel a lot better about themselves and not so readily give up their dreams."

Idris laughed. "Now you've got your sister in on it!" he said. "I have a blind cousin and I know someone like him would benefit greatly from a place like that. Somewhere they won't feel institutionalized."

Granville looked at his arm then he looked at Ottaline who smiled at him with the face of a cherub.

"Ottaline!" Providence distracted her sister. "You'd help me? Someone would have to cook for all of these people!"

"Of course, Rovy," Ottaline said. "I'd help you where ever it was needed."

Lightening lit up the sky, shinning through all the windows and making everyone duck as the thunder followed loudly.

"We should get away from the windows," Granville suggested and abandoning what was left of their dinner the four went into the hall and seated themselves beneath the Georgian paintings. They sat in silence for a long time.

"Who wants to hear a spooky story?" Idris said.

"I do," said Providence.

"I don't!" Ottaline protested.

"But it's a perfect night for a little spooky story," Providence said. "What if we added a little mystery to it too, then would you want to listen?"

Ottaline drew her knees up to her chin. "All right, I guess," she said.

Idris stiffed a laugh and searched his head for a story that was spooky and mysterious.

"Try not to scare them too much," Granville said. "I don't want them awake all night."

Idris nodded and began. "This story came from England, it's called The Monkey Paw."

/

"Ottaline can you look under the bed one more time?"

"No!" Ottaline said. "I knew we shouldn't have listened to that story."

Providence sat up in bed. "I thought I heard knocking."

"It's probably just Mr. Idris getting ready for bed," Ottaline said pulling the blankets up to her chin.

"But what if it's Herbert, the Whites' son?"

"Rovy, I'm the one who get's scared by such stories and I'm fine," Ottaline said. "Now go to sleep. It will make morning come faster."

"Ha, I'm too old to fall for that trick."

"Then you are also too old to believe in ghost stories now go to sleep!" Ottaline pulled the blankets over her head and stayed there until she heard her sister breathing evenly. She then pulled down the blankets and inhaled the cool air of the room. The house was very quiet and she wondered if Mr. Idris and Mr. Heritage were sleeping by now.

With a yawn she rolled over and looked out the window through the still curtains made whiter in the stormy moonlight. She listened to the creaking of the rafters as the wind blew against the house rocking the porch swing and flipping the shutters. She soon felt her eyes growing heavy and they were more than halfway closed when she saw a shadow mover across the wall. Thinking someone had come into the room she grabbed her sister's hand as she looked around.

When the tall shadow passed again on the opposite wall of the French doors she looked toward the balcony. "Rovy." She whispered shaking her sister's arm. "Rovy wake up?"

"Two more minutes," Providence moaned.

"Rovy, someone is outside," Ottaline shook her sister until she opened her eyes. "Someone...is...out...side."

Providence's eyes went wide then her face settled. "Stop trying to scare me," she said and rolled over.

"No, look." Ottaline said pointing to the doors. The tall shadow went by again and the girls could clearly see the shape of a man wearing a hat. Their screams ripped through the night as they kicked out of the blanket, gathered their gowns and went running through the house.

Providence stopped at the next bedroom and pounded on the door. "Mr. Idris! Mr. Idris help us there is someone outside!" As soon as the door opened the girls rushed inside and hid on the other side of the bed leaving Idris in the doorway.

"Girls, girls, what's going on?"

Ottaline popped her head up. "We saw a shadow on the balcony," she panted.

"Ottaline saw it twice!" Providence said.

"Three times." Ottaline corrected.

Idris was about to speak when Granville entered the room. "What's going on?"

"The girls think they saw someone on the balcony," Idris said. "I think it might be the story I told."

"But it wasn't the story." Ottaline said coming out of hiding. "We really saw him. He looked like..."

"He looked like the man I saw in the cemetery," Providence said. "I told you I didn't make him up.

Granville nodded. "We had better see to it just to be sure," he said to Idris. "You two stay here."

Ottaline followed them to the door and watched them go up the hall. She could make out them talking about guns. She returned to the room and sat next to her sister.

"I miss Daddy," Providence said. "He always knew what do you when we were scared."

Ottaline put her arms around her sister. "I'll do what I can," she whispered to her and kissed her hair.