The Golden Cellar
"You’re going to get us all killed, Julian." The words hung in the stale air of the sub-basement, heavy and dry as the dust that coated the linoleum floor, a surface that had not been mopped since the previous administration’s audit. Elias Thorne, forty-two years old and wearing the weight of twelve years in the Metropolitan Police Service on his shoulders, stared at the junior officer’s hands....
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