Saturday, July 30, 1994
Kim and Edward did not get an early start as Edward had suggested the night before. Instead Edward had spent half the morning on the phone. First he’d called Kim’s contractor and architect about expanding the work at the compound to include the new lab. They’d agreed with alacrity and offered to meet at the compound at eleven. Next Edward had called a series of representatives of laboratory equipment manufacturers and scheduled them to show up at the same time as the contractor and architect.
After a quick call to Stanton to be sure the money he’d promised would be immediately forthcoming, Edward phoned a series of people whom he wanted to consider recruiting for Omni’s professional staff. Edward and Kim did not get into the car for the drive north until well after ten.
By the time Edward parked in front of the stables in the Stewart compound there was a small crowd of people waiting. They had all introduced themselves, so Edward was spared the task. Instead he waved for them to gather by the padlocked sliding door.
The building was a long, single-story stone structure with infrequent windows set high under the eaves. Since the terrain fell off sharply toward the river, the back was two stories, with separate entrances to each stall on the lower level.
Kim tried multiple keys before finding the correct one to open the heavy padlock. After sliding it open, everyone entered what was the ground floor from the front and the second story from the rear.
The interior was a huge, undivided long room with a cathedral ceiling. On the rear side of the building there were multiple shuttered openings. One end of the room was filled with bales of hay.
“At least the demolition will be easy,” George said.
“This is perfect,” Edward said. “My idea of a lab is one big space so that everyone interfaces with everyone else.”
The stairway leading down to the lower level was constructed of rough-hewn oak and pegged together with dowels an inch in diameter. Downstairs they found a long hall with stalls to the right and tack rooms to the left.
Kim tagged along and listened to the plans to convert the barn rapidly into a state-of-the-art biological and pharmacological laboratory. Downstairs there were to be quarters for a menagerie of experimental animals including rhesus monkeys, mice, rats, and rabbits. There was also to be space for tissue-and bacterial-culture incubators along with containment facilities. And finally there were to be specially shielded rooms for the NMR and X-ray crystallography.
The upstairs would house the main laboratory space as well as a shielded, air-conditioned room for a large mainframe computer. Every laboratory bench would have its own terminal. To power all the electronic equipment a huge electrical service would be brought in.
“Well, there you have it,” Edward said when they had finished the tour. He turned to the contractor and architect. “Can you see any problems with all this?”
“I don’t think so,” Mark said. “The building is sound. But I would suggest we design an entrance with a reception area.”
“We won’t be having many visitors,” Edward said. “But I see your point. Go ahead and design it. What else?”
“I can’t see that we’ll have any trouble with permits,” George said.
“Provided we don’t say anything about the animal aspect,” Mark said. “My advice is just not to mention it. It could create problems that would take a long time to resolve.”
“I’m more than happy to leave the civic relations to you experienced men,” Edward said. “The fact is, I’m interested in expediting this project, so I’d like to take full advantage of your expertise. And to speed completion I’m willing to give a ten percent bonus above time, materials, and fees.”
Enthusiastic and eager smiles appeared on Mark’s and George’s faces.
“When can you start?” Edward asked.
“We can start immediately,” Mark and George said in unison.
“I hope my little job isn’t going to suffer with this newer and bigger project,” Kim said, speaking up for the first time.
“No need to worry,” George said. “If anything it will speed work up at the cottage. We’ll be bringing a big crew in here with all the trades represented. If we need a plumber or an electrician for some small task on your job, they’ll already be on site.”
While Edward, the contractor, the architect, and the various medical-equipment reps settled down to work out the details for the new lab, Kim wandered outside the stables. She squinted her eyes against the hazy but intense noontime sun. She knew she wasn’t contributing to the planning of the lab, so she hiked across the field toward the cottage to check on the renovation.
As she neared the building she noticed the trench had been filled in. She also noticed that the workmen had reset Elizabeth’s headstone into the ground above the grave. They’d laid it flat just as they’d found it.
Kim entered the cottage. It seemed tiny after being in the stables. But the work was progressing well, especially in the kitchen and the bathrooms. For the first time she could imagine what they would be like when they were finished.
After touring the cottage, Kim wandered back to the stables, but there was no suggestion that Edward and the others were anywhere near finishing their impromptu conference. Kim interrupted long enough to let Edward know she’d be up in the castle. Edward told her to enjoy herself and immediately went back to some problem involving the NMR machine.
Stepping from the bright sunshine into the somber, heavily draped interior of the castle was like stepping into another world. Kim stopped and listened to the creaks and groans of the house as it adjusted to the heat. For the first time she realized she couldn’t hear the sound of the birds, which outside was loud, particularly the cry of sea gulls.
After a short debate she mounted the grand staircase. Despite her recent success finding seventeenth-century material in the wine cellar, she thought she’d give the attic another chance, especially since it was so much more pleasant.
The first thing she did was open many of the dormer windows to let in the breeze from the river. Stepping away from the last window she opened, she noticed stacks upon stacks of clothbound ledgers. They were arranged along one side of the dormer.
Taking one of the books in her hand, Kim looked at the spine. Handprinted in white ink on a black background were the words Sea Witch. Curious about what the book was, Kim cracked it open. At first she thought it was someone’s diary because all the handwritten entries began with the day of the month followed by a narrative involving detailed descriptions of the weather. She soon realized that it wasn’t a personal diary but rather a ship’s log.
Turning to the front of the book, Kim learned that it covered the years 1791 through 1802. Kim put the log back and glanced at the spines of the other books in the stack, reading the names. There were seven books with the name Sea Witch. Checking them all, she learned the oldest went from 1737 to 1749.
Wondering if there could be any from the seventeenth century, Kim looked at the books in other stacks. In a small pile near the window she noticed that there was one with a worn leather spine and no name. She got it out.
The book had an old feel much like the Bible Kim had found in the wine cellar. She opened to the title page. It was the ship’s log for a brig called the Endeavor, and it covered the years from 1679 to 1703. Delicately turning the aged pages, Kim advanced through the book year by year until she got to 1692.
The first entry for the year was on the 24th of January. It described the weather as cold and clear with a good westerly wind. It went on to say that the ship had embarked with the tide and was bound for Liverpool with a load of whale oil, timber, ship’s stores, fur, potash, and dried cod and mackerel.
Kim sucked in a mouthful of air as her eyes stumbled onto a familiar name. The next sentence in the entry stated that the ship was carrying a distinguished passenger, Ronald Stewart, Esquire, the ship’s owner. Hastily Kim read on. The log explained that Ronald was en route to Sweden to supervise the outfitting and take possession of a new ship to be called the Sea Spirit.
Quickly Kim scanned the subsequent entries for the voyage. Ronald’s name was not mentioned again until he disembarked in Liverpool after an uneventful crossing.
With some excitement, Kim closed the book and descended from the attic to the wine cellar. Opening the Bible box, she took out the deed she’d found on her last visit and checked the date. She’d been correct! The reason Elizabeth’s signature was on the deed was because Ronald had been at sea when the deed was signed.
Solving even a small mystery involving Elizabeth gave Kim a sense of satisfaction. She put the deed back in the Bible box and was in the process of adding the ship’s log to her small collection when three envelopes tied with a thin ribbon slipped out from beneath the back cover.
Kim picked up the slim packet with trembling fingers. She could see that the top one was addressed to Ronald Stewart. After untying the ribbon she discovered they were all addressed to Ronald. With great excitement she opened the envelopes and removed the contents. There were three letters, dated October 23rd, October 29th, and November 11th, 1692.
The first was from Samuel Sewall:
Boston
My Dear Friend,
I understand that you are troubled in spirit although I hope in God’s name that your recent marriage may ease your disquietude. I also understand your wish to contain the knowledge of your late wife’s unfortunate association with the Prince of Darkness, but I must in good faith advise you to forebear petitioning the Governor for a Writ of Replevin in regards to the conclusive evidence used to convict your aforesaid wife of abominable witchcraft. To the like purpose I would have you apply to and beseech Reverend Cotton Mather in whose cellar you espied your wife’s infernal doings. It has come into my knowledge that official custody of the evidence has been granted in perpetuity to Reverend Mather according to his request.
I remain your Friend, Samuel Sewall.
Frustrated that she’d found another reference to the mysterious evidence without its being described, Kim turned to the second letter. It was written by Cotton Mather.
Saturday 29th October Boston
Sir:
I am in receipt of your recent letter and your reference to our being fellow graduates of Harvard Colledge which gives me the hope that your disposition to the venerable institution is one of loving solicitude so that you will be amenable of mind and spirit to what I and my esteemed father hath decided is the proper place for Elizabeth’s handiwork. You recall when we met at my home in July I had worried concern that the good people of Salem could very well be excited to a state of unruly and turbulent spirit in regards to the Devil’s presence so clearly defined by Elizabeth’s actions and infernal works. It is most unfortunate that my fervent concerns have come to pass and despite my urging of a very critical and exquisite caution in the use of spectral evidence since the Father of Lies could conceivably assume the outward shape of an innocent person, innocent people’s good reputation can be sullied despite the sedulous endeavors of our honorable judges who are so eminent for their justice, wisdom, and goodness. I fully comprehend your honorable wish to shield your family from further humiliation but it is my belief that Elizabeth’s evidence should be preserved for the benefit of future generations in their eternal combat with the forces of evil as a prime example of the type of evidence needed to objectively determine a true covenant with the Devil and not mere maleficium. In this regard I have had much discours with my father, the Good Reverend Increase Mather who is currently justly serving as the President of Harvard Colledge. We together in like mind have decided that the evidence should be preserved at the Colledge for the edification and instruction of future generations whereof vigilance is important to thwart the work of the Devil in God’s New Land.
Your servant in God’s name, Cotton Mather.
Kim wasn’t certain she understood the entire letter, but the gist was easy enough to comprehend. Feeling even more frustrated about the mysterious evidence, she turned to the final letter. Glancing at the signature, she saw it was from Increase Mather.
11th November 1692 Cambridge
Sir:
I am in complete empathy for your wish for the aforesaid evidence to be returned for your private disposition, but I have been informed by the tutors William Brattle and John Leverett that the evidence has been received by the students with diligent interest and has stimulated impassioned and enlightening debate with the effect of convincing us it is God’s will that Elizabeth’s legacy be left at Harvard to stand as an important contribution to establishment of objective criteria for Ecclesiastic Law in association with witchcraft and the damnable work of the Devil. I beg of you to understand the importance of this evidence and agree that it indeed should remain with our collections. If and when the esteemed Fellows of the Corporation of Harvard deem to found a school of law it will at that time be sent to that institution.
I remain your servant, Increase Mather.
“Damn it!” Kim said after reading the third letter. She could not believe that she’d been lucky enough to find so many references to Elizabeth’s evidence yet still not know what it was. Thinking she might possibly have missed something, she read the letters again. The strange syntax and orthography made reading them somewhat difficult, but when she got to the end of the second reading she was sure she’d not missed anything.
Stimulated by the letters, Kim again tried to imagine the nature of the incontrovertible evidence used against Elizabeth. From Kim’s continued general reading that week on the Salem witch trials, she’d become more convinced that it had to have been some kind of book. Back in the days of the trials the issue of the Devil’s Book had come up frequently. The method that a supposed witch established a covenant with the devil was by writing in the Devil’s Book.
Kim looked back at the letters. She noticed the evidence was described as “Elizabeth’s handiwork.” Perhaps Elizabeth had made a book with an elaborately tooled leather cover? Kim laughed at herself. She knew she was taxing her imagination, but nothing else came to mind.
In Increase Mather’s letter, Kim noted that the evidence had elicited “impassioned and enlightening” debate among the students. She thought that description not only gave weight to the idea of the evidence being a book, but tended to suggest it was the contents that were important, not its appearance.
But then Kim thought again about the evidence being some kind of doll. Just that week she’d read that a doll with pins in it had been used in the trial of Bridget Bishop, the first person to be executed in the Salem ordeal.
Kim sighed. She knew that her wild speculations as to the nature of the evidence was not accomplishing anything. After all, the evidence could have been anything to do with the occult. Instead of wild speculation she had to stick to the facts that she had, and the three letters she’d just found gave her a very significant fact, namely that the evidence, whatever it was, had been given to Harvard University in 1692. Kim wondered what the chances were that she could find reference to it at the institution today, and if she were to try, whether they would laugh at her.
“Ah, there you are,” Edward called down from the top of the wine cellar stair. “Having any luck?”
“Strangely enough I have,” Kim yelled back. “Come down and take a look at these.”
Edward climbed down the stairs and took the letters. “My goodness,” he exclaimed when he saw the signatures. “These are three of the most famous Puritans. What a find!”
“Read them,” Kim said. “They’re interesting but frustrating for my purposes.”
Edward leaned against a bureau to take advantage of the light from one of the wall sconces. He read the letters in the same order that Kim had.
“They’re marvelous,” he said when he was finished. “I love the wording and the grammar. It lets you know that rhetoric was a major course of study in those days. Some of it’s above my head: I don’t even know what the word ‘sedulous’ means.”
“I think it means diligent,” Kim said. “I didn’t have any difficulty with definitions. What gave me trouble was how the sentences ran on and on.”
“You’re lucky these letters weren’t written in Latin,” Edward said. “Back in those days you had to read and write Latin fluently to get into Harvard. And speaking of Harvard, I’d bet Harvard would be interested in these, especially the one from Increase Mather.”
“That’s a good point,” Kim said. “I was thinking about going to Harvard and asking about Elizabeth’s evidence. I was afraid they might laugh at me. Maybe I could make a trade.”
“They wouldn’t laugh at you,” Edward said. “I’m sure someone in the Widener Library would find the story intriguing. Of course they wouldn’t turn down a gift of the letter. They might even offer to buy it.”
“Does reading these letters give you any better idea what the evidence could have been?” Kim asked.
“Not really,” Edward said. “But I can understand what you mean by their being frustrating. It’s almost funny how many times they mention the evidence without describing it.”
“I thought Increase Mather’s letter gave more weight to the idea it was some kind of book,” Kim said. “Especially the part where he mentioned it stimulated debate among the students.”
“Perhaps,” Edward said.
“Wait a second,” Kim said suddenly. “I just had another idea. Something I hadn’t thought about. Why was Ronald so keen to get it back? Doesn’t that tell us something?”
Edward shrugged. “I think he was interested in sparing his family further humiliation,” he said. “Often entire families suffered when one member was convicted of witchcraft.”
“What about the possibility it could have been self-implicating?” Kim said. “What if Ronald had something to do with Elizabeth’s being accused and convicted of witchcraft? If he did, then maybe he wanted to get the evidence back so he could destroy it.”
“Whooo, hold on!” Edward said. He backed away a step as if Kim were a threat. “You’re too conspiratorially inclined; your imagination is working overtime.”
“Ronald married Elizabeth’s sister ten weeks after Elizabeth’s death,” Kim said heatedly.
“I think you are forgetting something,” Edward said. “The test I ran on Elizabeth’s remains suggests that she’d been chronically poisoned by the new fungus. She’d probably been having psychedelic trips on a regular basis, which had nothing to do with Ronald. In fact he might have been having his own if he were ingesting the same grain. I still think the evidence had to do with something Elizabeth made while under the hallucinogenic effect of the mold. Like we said, it could have been a book, or a picture, or a doll, or anything they thought related to the occult.”
“You have a point,” Kim conceded. She took the letters from Edward and put them in the Bible box. She glanced down the wine cellar’s long hall with its complement of furniture filled with paperwork. “Well, back to the drawing board. I’ll just have to keep looking in hopes of finding the evidence described.”
“I finished my meetings,” Edward said. “Everything is going smoothly regarding the new lab. I have to compliment you on your contractor. He’s going to start today by digging the utility trench. He said his only concern was finding more graves! I think finding Elizabeth’s spooked him. What a character.”
“Do you want to go back to Boston?” Kim asked.
“I do,” Edward admitted. “There are a lot of people I want to talk to now that Omni is soon to be a reality. But I don’t mind taking the train like I did the last time. If you want to stay working here on your project, I think you should.”
“Well, if you wouldn’t mind,” Kim said. Finding the letters had at least encouraged her.