The companions headed to the Essex Constabulary, where they met Constable Arthur P. Vaughn, who after offering his condoleances escorted Jules Pollack to the earthly remains of Matilda Berkeley. The solemn occasion did eventually find the companions quite famished, and they had a very good lunch at Rosie's Tavern, an old and rustic restaurant that was serving lunch to half a dozen patrons. The waiter did tell Mr. Pollack that Matilda Berkeley often enjoyed meals at Rosie's Tavern, and often in the company of Patricia Abernathy, the chair of the Essex Historical Society, and Egon Wierzbowski, a nobleman from Poland.
Following lunch, the investigators drove up to Hampton Hill House. The hill itself was not steep, but it did form a a natural vantage point overlooking many square miles of New England. The house itself was stunning, and although in need of a good airing out, well maintained and nearly immaculate. Large windows and several mirrors reflected the fall light and created a cozy and comfortable feeling, but that did not distract the investigators as they did a quick survey of the house before splitting forces. Mackie MacKenzie and Moira Baker decided to give Hampton Hill House a more thorough examination, while Jules Pollack and Henry Chester drove out to have a chat with the widow of Ephraim Cox, Mr. Simmons the part-time gardener, Joseph West the butler and Sylvia Rosenstein, the former maid.
Moira and Mackie were indeed thorough in going over the house. A couple of items did pique their interest, usch as the generous amounts of sleeping pills on the nightstand of Auntie Tilda, a spectacular blunderbuss in the basement, and a double-barrelled shotgun in a closet. Besides that, the house was well kept, and it seemed as if three of the upstairs bedrooms had been occupied: one by Auntie Tilda, one by Joseph West, and leaving one room for Cox. Auntie Tilda's affairs did seem to be in order, and although she had several interesting mementos and books from her extensive travels, bothing seemd to be out of the ordinary. She did seem to have spent some time and and energy researching local history, and her final journal entry was simply "remember to talk to Patricia about town ledgers".
Meanwhile, Chester and Pollack visited the rather unhinged widow of Mr. Cox, who had been provided for by Auntie Tilda. They proceeded to Sylvia Rosenstein, whom they found sitting in the porch swing enjoying the fall day. She excused herself for not getting up, but greeted Chester and Pollack warmly and shared her experiences of that strange summer of 1923. She told the gentlemen that she had been quite under the weather for most of the summer, and that may very well be why she stepped out in front of the automobile that crushed her legs. Following the conversation with Miss Rosenstein, the gentlemen went to 110 Elm Street, where Joseph West supposedly boarded. Mrs. Nye, his rather plump landlady opened the door, and she assured the gentlemen that Mr. West was unwell and could not accept visitors. However, Pollack and Chester insisted on seeing West, and after ten or so minutes a miserable wretch opened the door. West assured the gentlemen that he wasn'r contagious, but that he was suffereing from some fatigue-induced malaise. He said that he was getting better, but that the summer had been most taxing. Finally, the visit to the incredibly sympathetic Simmons in his extraordinarily bucolic house did not lead to much more than confirmation of what was already known.
As the investigator gathered over supper, they decided to send out an invitation to commemorate Matilda Berkeley on Friday, October 13, via advertising in The Essex Examiner, which was the local newspaper. Henry Chester proceeded to inspect the basement a bit further, but besides admiring the solid workmanship of Batholomew Pickman, who built the house back in 1850, nothing was found, except for a dozen or so letters from Joseph West's relatives in Inssmouth, who beckoned him to come home.
The intrepid investigators slept soundly that night, and although there were some concerns about finding the spectre of Mrs. Abigail Cooper, who had owned the house for some sixty years, night offered nothing but rest, peace and quiet.
St. Agnes
Next morning was dreary and cold with gusts of widna and intermittent rainfall. The companions had breakfast at The Essex Diner, enjoying flapjacks, sausage links, hash browns and bacon before visting the St. Agnes Epsicopalian Church, although Jules Pollack departed to deal with the substantial logistics for the upcoming event. The investigators were hoping to meet with pastor Moore, but he was travelling. They did, however, visit the very spartan grave of Mrs. Abigail Cooper. Following the col walk across the cemetary, they investigators Went to visit Mrs. Patricia Abernathy, who actually turned out to run a legal practice on Main Street. Mrs. Abernathy was a vivacious woman in her early forties, and she could guess who the investigators were, although she confused Mr. Spencer for Mr. Pollack. She gladly shared some of the many conversations she'd had with Matilda Berkeley about the history of Essex Falls, and Hampton Hill in particular. It turned out that she had found an odd note inserted into the town ledgers from the year of 1760. The note hinted at a gruesome lynching of a person named Zebulon May, apparently after some dreadful deeds done on or near Hampton Hill.
Patricia Abernathy
As the companions assembled for supper on Thursday, October 12, there were many more questions than answers. What was this note found inserted into the town ledger? Who was Mrs. Abigail Cooper? Why was her daughter Agatha estranged? Why did Bartholomew Pickman sell the house a mere ten years after finishing such a fantastic house? What was with Bishop Innocentius of the Unitarian Church?
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