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And it now belongs to you, according to Baltus. I heard him say it.
Yes.
Only the heirs were killed. Proof that the Horseman slaughters by assignment.
But, if the farm is not mine, who stole it away?
No one yet, far as I can tell. It has gone intestate.
In test... what?
Intestate. Your farm... all the farms... they belong to no one.
What does it mean?
Often in such cases, property which has gone intestate legally passes to whomever the deceased was indebted to. And, who in this town is owed a great many debts?
Baltus Van Tassel.
Did your father take a loan?
Yes. I rode with him on payment days.
There is no Masbath here. My father's loan papers are missing.
There are none for Magistrate Philipse either. "Paasch, James" "Pieter, Thomas" "Pos, William."
I was getting worried. Who was it?
Lady Van Tassel.
What was she doing?
Something I really wish I had not seen. Never mind it. Did you find the victims' loan agreements?
No. They are all missing.
There are no other doors. This is as far as she could have gone.
It is nothing. She comes to read books, so her father will not find her. It is absolutely nothing.
What books?
Fiction plays and novels. Baltus does not approve. Now, come. It may not be long before Lady Van Tassel returns.
But, sir... what books? Where are they?
What now? Where is she?
Things have become complicated. Katrina is at the mill. Ride ahead, find her and bring her to meet me outside the church. Find her at all costs. Quickly.
She's the one who controlled the Horseman, isn't she, sir? Sir?
I need time for thinking. Without you hanging on my coattails for a change.
Won't you change your mind, sir? What can I say to convince you?
Nothing. To hell with this place and all the people here.
Why... why are you like this?
You do not know all that has happened. You cannot understand.
This is farewell.
Take me with you. There's nothing left for me here.
I cannot. You should not worry. Van Ripper and his wife will look after you. They will. You will be well cared for.
Climb up!
Lady Van Tassel...
I know. Hold on.
What can we do?
Take the reins.
What now?
I doubt that's the end.
How are you?
Tired.
Well, Constable... are you aware... to be honest, you are not what we expected. We sent for the militia.
The militia?
The Van Garretts died first; a man and his son, survived by a wife and two infants. And the Widow Windsor was next...
And now Jonathan Masbath.
Why would he flee this direction, with so much open ground to cross before he reached cover?
He would not have gone into the Western Woods. No sane man would.
... found the body this morning. You do believe now, don't you?
Believe?
What is that you wear?
My talisman. It will, protect against the Horseman if I show a brave face. But, I cannot run. If I run in fear, it is worthless.
Well... so much for common sense.
Not more than a year ago, a mob hung a man for stealing a horse. For stealing a horse! And, you dig up our dead.
Are you saying I should be frightened? Is this a message passed on from Clergyman Steenwyck?
We are farmers here, not lawyers or bankers, or even constables. Every penny we earn comes from what we send down the Hudson.
I know it.
Listen to what you say....
No, you listen! You may think we are a pack of superstitious dullards...
At times I do.
Master Crane, sir. I'm glad we have time alone. You've been told plenty about the Horseman, I'm certain.
More than enough, actually. I beg you, no more, please.
No, sir, no. If you ask me, I say you just laid eyes on our murderer through that glass.
Tell me something. What becomes of Young Masbath?
Van Ripper and his wife agreed to take him. They have children and a good home and good land.
The Widow Windsor.
Is that all you say? Look at her.
It's not something people speak of openly. She did not remarry.
Just a moment... if I may. It is possible this man was murdered.
He drowned. Anyone could see.
There are surgical ways of telling how he died... by the water in his lungs...
He will be burned pursuant to statutes of health.
I could determine if he were dead <u>before</u> he went into the Hudson.
Must we again hear these heretical rantings?
Our first night watch is adequate against fire and some violence, but if we were more often able to ensure justice, after the fact, then criminals would truly have something to fear from law enforcement.
Have they nothing to fear presently?
Without disrespect, look around you. We overflow. As do our courts.
And, <u>with</u> disrespect, Constable, if jails and courts overflow, it is testimony to success, not failure.
But, how many innocents rot here? And, how many victims are buried without reprisal while guilty men roam our streets?
Very few, if any.
Even though I have seen confessions pried from the lips of the accused, often quite literally?
For one who calls himself a Federalist, your mouth reeks of Republican liberalism.
Not Liberalism. Equanimity.
There is a farming community upstate, Constable... ten days journey north in the Hudson Highlands. It is named Sleepy Hollow. Within a fortnight, three persons have been murdered there. Each with their head lopped cleanly off. The elders of the Hollow have sent dispatches to me, requesting assistance, and now, just this very moment, I have chosen you.
Chosen me?
These "methods" of yours... there has been no practical application.
Not for lack of trying.
Just so. Granted. And so you take your experimentations to Sleepy Hollow and catch the murderer who has tainted the place. Bring him here to face our good justice. Will you do this for me?
I shall, gladly.
Excellent. Then, you are excused till morning.
Taken. Taken by the Headless Horseman. Taken back to hell.
Pardon me?
Just a moment... Are you saying it is he?
When a goblin leaps from the nether world, others follow. Poltergeists of the air, water and earth follow and cheer his desecrations!
Do you have these persons' wills?
I have everything... last testaments... birth certificates, death certificates... deeds.
Yes, sir... but, do you have these?
May I see them, Master Hardenbrook?