The Distant Clue
The train hissed into the station of Blackwood, a low groan of iron and steam that echoed off the brick walls. Elias Thorne stepped onto the platform, his boots heavy on the gravel. He was a man of the old guard, a soldier who had seen the trenches of the Somme and the mud of the Somme, but he carried no rifle now. He carried only a memory, sharp and jagged like a shard of glass in his palm. He...
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