The Ironsmith
I November 1947 in Detroit, and the rain never stopped. It fell like someone had decided the sky owed the city a debt and was paying it in installments of grey water. I got the call at midnight from a private number. The voice on the other end was shaking. "There's been a murder at Crawford Auto. Eight people. All of them killed by the machine." Crawford Auto was a car factory in East Detroit,...
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