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Chapter 6: Whispers in the Walls and the Butcher’s Bill
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Chapter 8: The Unblinking Eye
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... ages usually filled Leclerc's Boucherie. The next morning, however, the dominant aroma was fear. Henri Leclerc, a portly man whose jolly demeanor had been leached away by months of dwindling custom and mounting debts, was visibly trembling as he tried to arrange a meagre display of pork chops. His hands shook so badly he nearly dropped one.
Thomas MacIntyre entered the shop quietly, the bell above the door giving a nervous tinkle. He wasn't wearing his usual groundskeeper's overalls, but ...
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