Devlin lifted a brow. “If true? Do you have reason to doubt the validity of the assessment?”
“No, not really. But I wasn’t completely honest with Detective Prescott. I do remember what the voice said to me while I was blacked out. He said, ‘Where is it? Where is it?’”
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“Because it didn’t seem real. I honestly believed it was just my imagination. But then earlier before I was brought upstairs, I thought I saw the shopkeeper in the ER. I only caught a glimpse so that may have been my imagination, as well. But it freaked me out a little.”
“What’s the name of the shop?”
“Dowling Curiosities on King Street. The man I spoke with is Owen Dowling.”
Devlin gave a brief nod. “I’ll check him out.”
“We also found a stereogram—the card that fits into the stereoscope. The image was of a man and two girls standing in front of a white two-story house. I took the card and the stereoscope to the Institute so that Dr. Shaw could have a look at them. He identified the man as Ezra Kroll.”
“As in Kroll Colony?”
“You know about that place?” I asked in astonishment. “Why have I never heard of it?
“It’s like your abandoned graveyards,” Devlin said. “Years pass, people forget. And it’s so far off the beaten track the only way to get there is by foot or horseback.”
“Then, how do you know about it?”
“When I was a kid, my grandfather owned a Thoroughbred farm not far from Isola. Some of the old-timers that worked for him would occasionally mention Kroll Colony. They were still superstitious about that place.”
“Have you ever been there?”
“A few times. It was mandatory that I spend a couple of weeks every summer on the farm to build character,” he said with a humorless smile. “The housekeeper had a boy about my age. Nathan Fortner. His grandfather had once been a cop, but after his retirement, he took a job in the stables. He used to tell grisly stories about the Colony, so naturally Nathan and I would ride over to the ruins anytime we could sneak away. We’d sometimes spend the whole afternoon poking through the buildings. Some of the roofs had caved in so the place was dangerous. I’m sure that was a big part of the attraction.”
“Go on.” I leaned forward, captivated by this glimpse into Devlin’s early years. He rarely volunteered information about his childhood.
“All I remember is an old commissary, a couple of dormitories for the single colonists and a few smaller buildings for the families. Some of the houses still had scraps of old clothing and toys strewn about and the commissary even had dishes on the table from the colonists’ last meal.”
“I’m surprised that stuff wasn’t carted off a long time ago as souvenirs. People can be ghoulish about that sort of thing.”
“I’m sure some of it was, but the locals mostly kept their distance. Like I said, it was a spooky place, difficult to get to and not much to see once you got there.”
“Is it still standing?”
“All the buildings burned to the ground a long time ago. There’s nothing left now but the cemetery.”
“Do you know how the colonists died?”
“Cyanide most likely. Back then, you could find it in local feed stores.” A grim note crept into Devlin’s voice. “Death would have been quick but not quick enough.”
I glanced toward the window, trying to distract myself from the gruesome imagery. “Dr. Shaw said Ezra Kroll was shot to death in the woods. Apparently, there’s always been a question of whether or not it was suicide.”
“Nathan’s grandfather was still a cop when it happened. He had a theory that none of the deaths was suicide. He believed it was mass murder perpetrated to cover up a single homicide.”
I stared at Devlin in horror. “What could motivate a person to do such a thing?”
“Same motives I see every day. Jealousy, passion, greed.” Devlin’s expression hardened and I wondered if he was thinking about another crime of passion and greed, one that hit a little too close to home. “Ezra Kroll came back from the war a damaged man. He’d inherited the family fortune, but had no use for earthly possessions beyond what he needed to survive. He started giving all the money away to the needy while his relatives had to stand by helplessly and watch the coffers dwindle.”
“So one of them took matters into their own hands?” I could hardly imagine such a thing. Three dozen innocent people, including children, had lived in Kroll Colony.
“The colonists ate every meal together,” Devlin said. “It was a ritual. But on that day, Kroll missed the communal lunch. The police believed he left to meet someone who lived nearby. A woman.”