The Golden Suspect
Chapter One Remy Lefevre sat in the dark of his workshop, the only light coming from the single tallow candle that burned down to a stub. He was forty-two years old, and he had not slept more than four hours in a night since his father’s funeral three weeks ago. The draft from the window frame, where the plaster had crumbled away, ticked against the glass with a sound like a dying man’s breath....
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