The Golden Quest
The rain in Harrowgate did not fall so much as it hung, a thick, grey veil that smelled of wet slate and coal smoke, clinging to the wool of Inspector Elias Thorne’s coat as he stood before the blackened husk of the old textile mill. It was a place that had once roared with the heartbeat of the city, a cathedral of industry where ten thousand souls had bent their backs to the loom, but now it...
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