The Archive of Blackfriars
The rain had not ceased for three days when Elias Blackwood first touched the ledger and felt the dead man's terror flood through his fingers. Blackfriars Archive stood at the edge of Whitechapel like a cathedral built by madmen. Its towers pierced the London fog, and its windows, thick with centuries of grime, seemed to watch the street with blind, unblinking eyes. Elias had been employed here...
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