“Yeah,” Kim said without enthusiasm. “Plus there’s no guarantee it would be there.”

While they ate their meal the conversation shifted to more mundane issues. It wasn’t until they were finishing their dessert that Edward returned to the issue of Elizabeth’s grave.

“What was the state of preservation of Elizabeth’s body?” he asked.

“I never saw the body,” Kim said. She was shocked at such a question. “The coffin wasn’t opened. The backhoe just hit the end and jarred it a little.”

“Maybe we should open it,” Edward said. “I’d love to get a sample-if there is anything recognizable to sample. If we could find some residue of whatever alkaloid this new fungus produces, we’d have definitive proof that the devil in Salem was a fungus.”

“I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing,” Kim said. “The last thing I want to do is disturb Elizabeth’s body.”

“Here we go being superstitious again,” Edward said. “You understand that such a position is akin to being against autopsies.”

“This is different,” Kim said. “She’s already been buried.”

“People are exhumed all the time,” Edward said.

“I suppose you are right,” Kim said reluctantly.

“Maybe I should take a ride up there with you tomorrow,” Edward said. “We could both take a look.”

“You have to have a permit to exhume a body,” Kim said.

“The backhoe already did most of the job,” Edward said. “Let’s take a look and decide tomorrow.”

The bill came and Edward paid it. Kim thanked him and told him that the next dinner was on her. Edward said they could argue about it.

Outside the restaurant there was an awkward moment. Edward asked her over to his apartment, but Kim demurred. She reminded him that she’d felt uncomfortable that morning. Ultimately they resolved the issue, at least temporarily, by agreeing to go to Edward’s to discuss it.

Later, while sitting on Edward’s couch, Kim asked him if he remembered a student named Kinnard Monihan, who’d done research in his lab four or five years previously.

“Kinnard Monihan,” Edward said. He closed his eyes in concentration. “I have a lot of students passing through. But, yes, I remember him. As I recall he went on to the General for a surgical residency.”

“That’s the one,” Kim said. “Do you remember much about him?”

“I remember I was disappointed when I’d heard he was taking a residency,” Edward said. “He was a smart kid. I’d expected him to stay in academic research. Why do you ask?”

“We dated for a number of years,” Kim said. She was about to tell Edward about the confrontation at the compound when Edward interrupted her.

“Were you and Kinnard lovers?” Edward asked.

“I suppose you can say that,” Kim said hesitantly. She could tell instantly that Edward was upset. Both his behavior and speech changed dramatically. It took Kim a half hour of coaxing and convincing to get him to calm down and to understand that her relationship with Kinnard was over. Kim even apologized for bringing up his name.

In a deliberate attempt to change the subject, she asked Edward if he’d done anything about finding a new apartment. Edward admitted that he’d not had a chance. Kim warned him that September would be arriving quickly.

As the evening progressed, neither Kim nor Edward brought up the issue of whether Kim should spend the night. By not making a decision, they made a decision. She stayed. Later, as they were lying side by side in bed, Kim began to think about what she’d said to Kinnard about Edward moving in with her. It had been meant merely to provoke Kinnard, but now Kim began seriously to consider the idea. It had a definite appeal. The relationship with Edward was continuing to blossom. Besides, the cottage was more than ample, and it was isolated. It might even be lonely.

Saturday, July 23, 1994

Kim awakened in stages. Even before she had opened her eyes she heard Edward’s voice. At first she’d incorporated it into her dream, but then, as she’d become more conscious, she realized it was coming from the other room.

With some difficulty Kim opened her eyes. First she made sure that Edward was not in bed, then she glanced at the clock. It was 5:45 a.m.

Settling back into the pillow and feeling concerned that something was wrong, Kim tried to hear what was being said, but she couldn’t. Edward’s voice was unintelligible, yet from its timbre Kim could tell that he was excited.

Within a few minutes Edward returned. He was dressed in a bathrobe. As he tiptoed across the room en route to the bathroom, Kim told him she was awake. Changing directions, he came over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’ve got great news,” Edward whispered.

“I’m awake,” Kim repeated. “You can speak normally.”

“I was just talking to Eleanor,” Edward said.

“At five forty-five in the morning?” Kim questioned. “Who on earth is Eleanor?”

“She’s one of my postdocs,” Edward said. “She’s my right-hand person in the lab.”

“This seems awfully early for shop talk,” Kim said. Involuntarily she thought of Grace Traters, her father’s supposed assistant.

“She pulled an all-nighter,” Edward said. “Kevin sent over several more sclerotia from the new fungus last night. Eleanor stayed to prepare and run a crude sample through the mass spectrometer. The alkaloids don’t seem to be the same as those in Claviceps purpurea. In fact they appear to be three totally new alkaloids.”

“I’m happy for you,” Kim said. It was far too early for her to say much else.

“The most exciting thing is that I know at least one of them is psychoactive,” Edward said. “Hell, all three might be.” He rubbed his hands excitedly as if he were about to get to work that instant.

“I can’t tell you how important this could be,” Edward continued. “We could have a new drug here, or even a whole family of new drugs. Even if they prove not to be clinically useful, they’ll undoubtedly be valuable as research tools.”

“I’m glad,” Kim said. She rubbed her eyes; she wanted to get into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

“It’s amazing how often serendipity plays a role in drug discovery,” Edward said. “Imagine finding a drug because of the Salem witch trials. That’s even better than the way Prozac was discovered.”

“That was by accident?” Kim asked.

“I should say.” Edward laughed. “The main researcher responsible was playing around with antihistamines and testing them in an experimental protocol that measured the effect on the neurotransmitter, norepinephrine. By serendipity he ended up with Prozac, which is not an antihistamine, and affects serotonin, another neurotransmitter, two hundred times more than it affects norepinephrine.”

“That’s amazing,” Kim said, but she’d not been listening. Without having had her morning coffee, her mind wasn’t prepared for such intricacies.

“I can’t wait to get working on these new alkaloids,” Edward said.

“Do you want to change your mind about going up to Salem?” Kim asked.

“No!” Edward said without hesitation. “I want to see that grave. Come on! As long as you’re awake, let’s go!” He gave Kim a playful shake of her leg through the covers.

After showering, blow-drying her hair, and applying makeup, Kim left Edward’s apartment with him for another greasy but tasty breakfast in Harvard Square. Following their meal, they stopped into one of the many bookstores in the square. Their breakfast conversation had included a discussion of Puritanism. They both realized how little they knew about it, so they bought a few appropriate books. It was well after nine by the time they were on their way to the North Shore.

Kim drove, since they were again reluctant to leave her car in the residents-only parking area in front of Edward’s apartment. With no traffic they made good time and were in Salem just before ten. Following the same route they had the previous Saturday, they again passed the Witch House.