The Faded Alibi
Chapter One The heat in the Imperial Library did not rise; it settled. It pressed against the skin like a wet wool blanket, making the air thick and unbreathable by noon. Harold Waggoner wiped the sweat from his brow with a hand that had grown rough from years of handling brittle paper. He was thirty-two, though the toll of the last decade had carved lines into his face that belonged to a man...
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