+ some wonderlands are kind

Hallo. Erm. I have...multiple announcements, I suppose. One is that the book club we established months ago, which fell to the wayside when there was an unfortunate incident at the library-

[Murder. It was murder. And she found the body. Let's move on.]

-is going to start up again. I've posted a sheet on the library doors for people to recommend books they would prefer to read and discuss. Secondly, and more importantly, I know that just about everyone has noticed the riddle the Duchess left. Far be it from me to encourage the scurrilous behaviour of questionable individuals, but those of us who have been here for some time know better - when last we were given a riddle, Wonderland was plagued by all manner of unfortunate fictional monsters.

[The late and grieved Mark Meltzer, in all his investigatory influence, has left a lingering effect on his pupil and peer, who appears steadfastly determined to solve this particular puzzle before any more beasties burst forth from the Mansion's belly.

It should be noted, dear listeners, that Evelyn is planted firmly in front of her library niche, where a good portion of the wall has been taken up by papers and notes, some of them a year old and others freshly scribed, a few bits of red string linking facts and events together. Is it the work of a professional archaeologist and researcher, or a manic conspiracy theorist?

You decide.]

I've begun compiling old notes from the last riddle and put them alongside my notes from this one in the event there are connexions. There are a number of hidden words and statements, you see- the...the most evident of these are the bolded letters that form the word "mount," the green letters that spell "closet," lower and upper letters spelling "liar" and "old," et cetera. But there- there is absolutely more to this, more than I thought there was-

[She reaches for two larger pads of paper, one of which has a series of zeroes and ones with text beneath it, the other dots and dashes accompanied by tiny notations that detail the numerological meaning of the number eight.]

There is further hidden text. Holding a finger over the word "true" in the message, there appear ten figures of three dashes and two dots, Morse code for the number eight. Over the word "cost," there are dozens upon dozens of ones and zeroes. It's a binary code!

[If she looks frightfully ecstatic, it's because she loves being smart.]

I've translated it to uncover a hidden poem which may, perhaps, raise more questions than it will answer them, but I should like everyone's input. This is something we have to solve together.