The Golden Suspect
My hands were shaking as I tightened the bolt on the elevator shaft, the metal cold and slick with condensation, while the rain hammered against the corrugated roof of the customs shed, a sound like static on a broken radio. I am Seamus Lenehan, an elevator inspector whose pension was frozen mid-career, and I was here to sign off on the final safety check for the mine’s last operational lift...
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