“– Edgar Wilde Tours isn’t afraid to show you the hidden history of the mysterious town of St. Edmund Island. The name Barnes Fullman does actually appear in a few scattered public documents of the time period. I am not at liberty to reveal my sources, but I can tell you that I’ve seen these documents with my own eyes. A few are even in my possession. And finally, of course, there is the unmistakable fact that Margharet and Hadley did somehow end up deceased on the very same day those many years ago. Was there a murder that night? Some sort of coverup? And if so, why? I’ll leave it to you to draw your own conclusions. Let’s continue over here.”
As the group made their way from the cemetery back to their starting point, their trenchcoat-clad guide spun dramatically to face them once more.
“We are almost at the end of our tour. However, before we disperse I’d like to point out one more curious bit of St. Edmund lore. Cast your eyes toward the bench over there. Yes, that’s the one. It may intrigue you to know that the most distinguished horror author, Edgar Allan Poe, is said to have sat on that very same bench in September of 1849, penning some lines of verse of which we shall unfortunately never know.” Edgar was pleased to see his group draw close in fascination. “Poe fans among you may recall the date of his untimely death as well, and I would like to propose his unsubstantiated visit to St. Edmund as a new and exciting ‘missing link’ in the mysterious chain of events leading to his unfortunate demise. I will, by the way, have a new Poe-themed tour ready in just a few months’ time, in which we will explore this topic in-depth. For any of you planning to visit our lovely, haunted town of St. Edmund again, I hope you will solicit my services further. Again, my name is Edgar Wilde, and no one knows this mysterious New England town as well as…”
“I told you to leave the ghost tours to the professionals!”
A hand swung Edgar around by the elbow, bringing him face-to-face with the plump, elderly figure of Cora Stelton. She wore her period-perfect, black-frilled Victorian mourning attire, decked out to lead her own ghost tour later that evening. She held a lantern high in her other hand; Edgar thought for a moment she was about to beat him with it.