The Golden Maze
The rain had been falling for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that blurred the boundaries of the city and the sea, turning the cobblestones of the harbor district into a slick, reflective mirror of the low, bruised sky. Arthur Penhaligon stood at the edge of the dock, his coat soaked through to the skin, watching the cargo ships idle in the fog. He was a man who had spent twenty years in...
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