The Golden Cellar
The rain had not stopped in three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the streets of the old quarter into sluggish rivers of mud and rust, and it was within this damp, suffocating enclosure that Elias Thorne found the letter tucked under the heavy oak door of his office, a small, white rectangle that seemed to glow with a terrible, silent promise. He was a man of the law, a detective...
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