The Distant Clue
The rain slicked the cobblestones of the Blackwood Asylum courtyard, turning the gray sludge into a mirror that refused to reflect the sky. Elias Thorne, thirty-four years old and still carrying the stiff posture of a man who had once commanded a platoon, stood before the heavy iron gates. He did not look at the rain. He looked at Dr. Halloway, who stood behind the glass of the administrative...
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