THE SUBLIME SILENCE
The false back in the cabinet gave way with a sound like a sigh. Lord Alistair Pembroke was cataloguing his late father's library in the country house in Surrey when he found it — a gap behind a row of leather-bound volumes that should not have been there. He reached in and pulled out a sheaf of papers bound in dark leather, sealed with wax that had hardened to the colour of dried blood. The...
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