The Distant Clue
The silence in the interrogation room was not empty; it was heavy, a physical weight that pressed against the eardrums, thick with the scent of stale coffee and the metallic tang of fear. Lieutenant Arthur Thorne sat across from the man in the chair, his posture rigid, his eyes fixed on the small, ceramic bowl of soup that sat untouched on the metal table between them. It was a simple thing, a...
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