The Distant Clue

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2026-08-16 01:34:06 - the-distant-clue -

The Distant Clue

The fog in Whitby did not lift so much as surrender — slowly, reluctantly, like a guard abandoning a post he had kept too long. Eleanor Marsh stood at the window of her father's study on Gaff Hill, watching the North Sea churn grey against grey, and tried to understand why the letter had arrived three days after the funeral. The letter was thin, the paper cream-coloured and expensive, the sort...

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