The Golden Suspect
Chapter One The frost had killed the late beans in the yard, leaving the soil hard and white under the streetlamps. Colette Fontaine held the transfer ticket in her pocket, the paper soft and worn from fifty-eight crossings on the Bellfounders' Walk. She stood in the reclamation yard, the dead machines rusting around her, listening to the brakes of the passing streetcar squeal like a dying...
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