The Distant Affair
Arthur Vane. The name was called out by the wind, or perhaps by the crows circling the blackened ruins of my London office, a sound that seemed to peel the skin off the air itself. I stood at the threshold of the burning building, clutching a leather-bound ledger to my chest, the heat of the inferno behind me pushing me forward into the damp, indifferent fog of the Scottish Highlands, where I...
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