Chapter 0
                                The Ninth Death of Alexander Hickory

                                                 Hickory Estate
                                                        1849


      Dr. Marshall took out his watch and looked at the time.  It was still early enough in
the day to handle another one of Mr. Hickory’s deaths and still be home for a warm
dinner.  The carriage bounced along the cobblestone road to the enormous iron gates and
stopped.
      The driver bent over the edge of his seat and looked down through the window of
the coach.  “Doctor, we’re here.”
      Dr. Marshall opened the tiny door and ducked out of the carriage into the muted
light of day.  He clung to his worn wool scarf as a gust of wind dislodged his hat.  “This
better be good.”  The doctor stuffed his hat back onto his gray hair and tightened his
scarf.  He sorted through the mess in his pocket, lifted out a strange leaf-shaped key the
size of his palm, and unlocked the heavy gates.  His shoulders strained as he swung open
the wrought iron and gazed down the fog-laden road ahead of him.  Alexander Hickory
had once offered Dr. Marshall a tour of the grounds and the maze of roads that littered
the estate.  Despite his overwhelming curiosity, Dr. Marshall declined, he had other
appointments that day.  It turned out that, although Mr. Hickory had planned the roads,
he’d never seen all of them and was anxious to explore them with someone new.    
      Dr. Marshall climbed back into the carriage.  It would take them another half hour
to reach the strange elaborate mansion Mr. Hickory called home.  The countryside was
littered with rumors about its size and elaborate decorations, although few had actually
seen the house in person.  Dr. Marshall, however, had been lucky enough to see the
mansion on approximately eight separate occasions.
      The first visit introduced him to Hickory’s young butler, Jacob.  The frantic young
man showed up at his office panicked and muttering something about Mr. Hickory’s
death.  Jacob and Dr. Marshall hurried back to the Hickory estate only to find Alexander
Hickory dressed in white and sitting in the smoking room laughing.  After a brief period
of confusion and a few moments reassuring Jacob that all was well, Hickory invited
Marshall in for a drink and apologized for the fright.  After all, it was only for a laugh.  
They sat and talked for hours.  It was the first of eight incidences in which Mr. Hickory
faked his own death.  Today was likely number nine.
      Dr. Marshall gazed as the shrouded grounds passed outside his window and the
carriage finally stopped in front of the house.
       “Your destination, sir.” The driver croaked.
      “Thank you, Charles.  Wait here.”  Dr. Marshall hopped from the coach and
looked up at the house.  The roof disappeared into the fog leaving the porch and the
monstrous front doors to appear as the very gates to heaven.  His footsteps echoed up
the marble steps and past the monumental columns with the strange stars that adorned
their bases.  When he reached the carved doors, he knocked hard and rubbed his hand
as he listened for a response.  A young, sullen man opened the door.  
      “Hello Jacob.”  Dr. Marshall held out his hand to the butler.
      “Thank you for coming, Doctor.”  Jacob shook the doctor’s hand as he entered and
swung the door shut behind him.  Jacob’s face was pale and sunken.
      “Jacob…..?”
      “It is true this time, Dr. Marshall.”  
      Dr. Marshall felt betrayed.  It wasn’t fair that he bore both the laughter of Hickory’
s jokes and the tragedy of his death.  A great sadness came over him.  “Where is he?”  
The doctor finally asked.
      “Follow me.”  Jacob turned and stepped across the large circular mosaic on the
floor in front of the staircase.  
Emily Kieson