The Distant Threshold
The letter lay on the desk, the paper yellowed and brittle, the ink faded to a brownish gray that smelled of dust and old fear. Inspector Elias Thorne held it under the lamp, the light catching the fibers of the cloth that had once been a curtain in his office in Harrowgate. He read the date again. November 14, 1912. His own signature was at the bottom, a jagged line of ink that looked less...
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