The Last Star of Whitechapel
The gas lamps of London had long since surrendered to the fog, and the fog had long since surrendered to something worse. It was November 1887, and Arthur Winthrop stood alone in the cupola of the Royal Observatory at Greenwich, his eye pressed to the brass telescope, his breath pluming in the cold air like the ghosts of every observation he had ever made. He had been watching the star...
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