The Asylum of Lost Souls
1 The sea around Dead Man's Light had no mercy in November 1888. Edgar Daniels clutched the gunwale of the small boat as it pitched through waves the colour of old iron, his stomach turning over like a trapped bird. He was thirty-two years old, a detective from Scotland Yard with the grey eyes of a man who had seen too many corpses and not enough sleep. The rain fell in sheets, horizontal and...
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