The Distant Affair
The letter lay on the table, the ink still wet, smelling of iron and damp earth. "Tell me, Elias, what is the price of a man’s silence?" The question hung in the air of the cellar, heavy as the stone above them, pressing down on the lungs of the two men who stood in the gloom. Sergeant Miller did not look up from the jar he held; he merely turned it slowly, the black paste inside catching the...
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