Cold Case/5

It was pure accident that I discovered the next piece of the puzzle. Browsing the Internet for information about caves and curses and the Abnakis, I came across an intriguing tale: the curse of Brunswick Springs.

Brunswick Springs lies at the northernmost section of the Connecticut River. High on a bluff, overlooking the river, seven springs pour forth, each, according to legend, with a separate chemical makeup. Nestled in a pine forest, such springs could not be overlooked by the entrepreneurs who, at the turn of the twentieth century, saw profits in the healing waters.

But the profits were not to be. While the white businessmen sought to develop a spa for wealthy Americans, the Abnakis objected, claiming the site as a holy place. The stories I read revealed that a curse arose out of the conflict of the Abnakis and the Americans. A succession of four hotels were built and each burned to the ground within a year.

I was stunned as I read the story. The Abnakis and the white Americans and a curse that arose from the collision of two worlds; could it be coincidence. I picked up the phone and called Nibii.

She answered after the first ring. "I knew you were going to call," she said.

For a moment I was going to challenge her prescience, but I knew better. She had shown me more than once her ability to read and understand the unsaid.

I gave her a web address, and while I waited, she went to the site and read the story of Brunswick Springs. I waited quietly, and she said nothing as she read. Even through the phone, I could imagine her face, thoughtfully absorbing the information.

When she finally answered, she said, "I remember this story, but it was years ago that I heard about Brunswick Springs. Until now, I had forgotten about them."

I was much more blunt and forward thinking: "Do you think they relate to the Stanton Curse?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said.

But even as she contemplated my first question, I rushed on. "Do you think these springs were on the Path of Life?"

Nibii paused. "They are too far north," she said slowly, measuring her words carefully. But I could hear her thinking. Had she assumed the Path of Life rejoined the Connecticut River farther south? Had she confined her search for the Cave and the other legends to the wrong area, thereby cutting off some of the most intriguing geography. And could the story of the Path of Life and John Stanton and Brunswick Springs all suggest that the real collision of cultures happened at the farthest reachest of the Hamonassett journey?