Journal Entry 89 - December 4th, 1888 – 6:27 a.m. [Continued]
Furthermore, my hearing only grew more acute, and I could hear every tick-tock of the clock and crackle from the fireplace. I examined the parlor, hoping to find either Sheriff Bierce or any of my officers—when suddenly—I found a recently opened letter on a chest. I reopened the envelope, whose wax seal had already been cut. The message was addressed to C.W. Ormiston, and the signature at the bottom belonged to someone I have known for many years: Jeffrey Randolph. And while I trembled, unable to comprehend the conspiracy of which he spoke, a few keys on the piano were pressed. I raised my head to see Clifford sitting there, gray and corpselike. He then screamed a dry scream before collapsing on to the rest of the keys.
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