I believe it may be time for me to return to Bethnal Green, London, and my office in Knockturn Alley. I have spent the last two weeks traveling to every city and village Malcolm might have conceivably been seen in during the months preceding his murder, only to find dead ends at ever turn. All I've learned is what I already knew: that Malcolm had
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Come round when you wish. Or shall I come over and pick you up? Either is fine, just let me know. Shall I cook something? Have you eaten yet?
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