![]() ![]() Mr Sangster we’ve travelled from Devon to see you, even though the roads are barely passable. I do realise we’ve turned up here unexpectedly, but we’re desperate, and ask only for five minutes of your time. I am Daniel Cronin and this is my wife, Avril. Mr Sangster? quizzed the caller, his form shrouded by his parka coat, his face as white as marble. Oliver Sangster, clad in a maroon, silk dressing gown, clutched a glass of brandy and regarded the strangers with curiosity. He had piercing green eyes, brown wavy hair, and sported a dark goatee beard. The tall man that faced the freezing couple appeared their age. The porch light illuminated the bleak, late afternoon gloominess, and the door opened slowly. The despondent man once more rang the bell, his icy breath and runny nose evidence of the adverse weather conditions. The middle-aged couple waited in anticipation for the occupant of the detached house to make an appearance. No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the author, except for the quotations in a review. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author. ![]() The characters and events in this book are fictitious. ![]()
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