“Vivian, meet Nicholas, the owner,” Rachel says.
“Hello, Nicholas.” Vivian shakes his trembling hand. “I’m embarrassed to say I’ve never been inside here before. This is just…perfect.”
He smiles. “Hello, Vivian. That’s quite all right. We are a bit of a hidden gem.”
“Nicholas and I have known each other for a long time,” Rachel says. “He often attends our programming at the Vilna Shul. As you can see, he carries a lot of old books. And he has something that I want to show you in a minute. But first—”
She pulls out some papers from her leather satchel and spreads them across the wooden cashier’s desk. Her eyes shine brightly. “So, you know how you gave me the family tree, right? Well, I searched the city’s vital and town records in the 1800s, and I’ve filled in some of the missing pieces. Your ‘Dr.No-Good Thurgood’—the one who tried to destroy the schedule of beneficiaries—is Dr.Robert Walter Thurgood. This here is his death record, from the Massachusetts Vital Records collection, 1820–1902.” She runs a pink pastel–manicured finger down one of the pages, until it pauses at an entry.
“Impressive, Rachel.”
“Just wait. So, listen, the whole Knox-Thurgood family isburied in Mount Auburn Cemetery. They have a family plot. I went to see it. William Knox, the Knox founder, is buried there. This Dr.Robert Thurgood is there. Everyone. EveryoneexceptMargaret.”
“Margaret, meaning my ancestor?”
“Correct. Margaret, your great-great-great-grandmother. Mother to the illegitimate child—your great-great-grandmother—and also to this Dr.Thurgood.”
“Was it uncommon at the time for women to be buried in the family plot? Maybe she—”
“No,” Rachel interrupts. “Women—wives, daughters—they were buried in either common plots, or for wealthy families, usually in the dedicated family plot. This Knox/Thurgood family plot has several generations in it. It’s a very male-dominated lineage, son producing son producing son, but the women—the wives—are buried there. Not Margaret, though.”
“So where is she?”
“Do you remember that note that we found from the servant who said, ‘Something is not right. He has her body in the basement’?”
“How could I forget?”
“Well, Dr.Thurgood was a physician who, according to my research, was very interested in pathology, which meant plenty of autopsies. He was a student and then a professor at Harvard Medical School, so I found records of his research. Bodies were hard to come by in the 1800s, so there was apparently a whole illicit body-snatching, grave-robbing ring going on—”
“Really?” Vivian interrupts, disdain on her face.
“Really. Medical students needed cadavers for anatomical study, after all, so I guess they had to come by them somehow. At Harvard, they even formed their own secret society around it back in the day, called the Spunker Club.”
Vivian crinkles her nose. “What is it with secret societies?”
“Well, I guess they wouldn’t need to be secret if they were squeaky clean.”
“True.”
“Anyway, back to our Dr.Thurgood. So he had his home office in the basement of the Knox….”
Vivian swallows. “You mean…”
Rachel nods. “It’s likely he was performing autopsies on stolen cadavers down there.”
Vivian stares at her friend. “What are you saying? And what does this have to do with Margaret? Do you think he autopsiedhis own mother?” She shudders, while Nicholas shakes his head in disbelief.
“Well, what else could that letter mean?”
“That’s…I don’t even know what to say.”
“I know. Pretty horrific, if it’s true. I just think there’s got to be a reason that Margaret isn’t buried in the family plot, right?” Rachel says.
“Wouldn’t he still have buried her, after the autopsy? Wait…you think she’s buried in the Knox itself?”
“I don’t think that. Well, I don’t really know, to be honest. She’s buriedsomewhere. Let’s just hope it’s an unmarked plot in this Mount Auburn Cemetery.”
“Oh my God, Rachel. What kind of person was this man?”
