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    Lost in the Mists: The Evynsford Chronicles, #4
    Lost in the Mists: The Evynsford Chronicles, #4
    Lost in the Mists: The Evynsford Chronicles, #4
    Ebook47 pages38 minutes

    Lost in the Mists: The Evynsford Chronicles, #4

    By Julianne T. Grey

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    It has been three years since that night in the Benns Textiles railway yard when the Inspector, Constable Moore and the Brainers had their final showdown with the Society, and they have been years of watchful peace. The town of Evynsford is once again a sleepy hamlet on the coast of the Irish Sea, only now with a new reverend to assist Vicar Weston, and the city of Preston remains much as it has been throughout the past century. Constable Moore, now a Sergeant in the newly retitled Lancashire Constable Offices, has kept his beat and his wits about him despite a relative lull in his life of dashing misadventure. However, when a raid turns up information about an assassin for hire who goes by an angelic moniker, Bartholomew Moore knows the time has come. He has a promise to keep to the Society’s former fallen ‘Seraph’…

    For his part, Aiden Woolbury, the one-time lethal agent of the Society, has not been idle. Fleeing the Benns railway yard wounded in body and broken in spirit, he realized that, with the Society broken, his dream of reclaiming his title and place in life was gone. Scrambling for purpose in a dark world, he has applied his murderous skills to contract killing, though his aims are far darker and more twisted than mere money...


    What follows is a vicious game of cat and mouse with neither side knowing which is which as each man’s will and faith are tested. Can Bartholomew Moore bring this man-made monster to heel without becoming one himself? And what dark designs does Mr. Woolbury have in store for the sectarian political community of Preston?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherImaginarium Press Publishing
    Release dateApr 9, 2018
    ISBN9781386157878
    Lost in the Mists: The Evynsford Chronicles, #4

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      Book preview

      Lost in the Mists - Julianne T. Grey

      Prologue: Yet I Will Bring One More

      The Constabulary Offices of Preston had been expanded with the implementation of the Rural Policing Acts. Now the Constabulary’s responsibilities – and, therefore, its powers and finances – were greater. The Lancashire Constable Offices, LCO, now oversaw not just Preston but the surrounding area and its subsequent boroughs. This came at a vital point in Preston’s evolution, as its proximity to Liverpool meant that both good and bad flowed freely between the two cities. As the proletarian unrest simmered in the mills and factories of Liverpool, its heat and distemper had seeped into the labor forces of Preston over the last few decades. Now, as criminal fraternities – what were termed gangs if they were short-lived and small-handed and firms if they could last longer and lay hold of more – began to rise to prominence in Liverpool. So, too, Preston began to experience its own blossoming of what could be called organized crime.

      However, in Preston, just as in Liverpool, these mercenary criminal organisms were forced to compete with the more entrenched and equally vicious political creatures which had stalked the streets of Preston for some time. Operating with similar methods but different agendas, the political blocs (both zealously radical and belligerently conservative) and the criminal organizations (both independent gangs and deep-rooted firms) lived an existence that was far from organized, each group trying to exploit and out-maneuver the other while still contending with its own kind for its own piece of the temporal and ideological pie. Alliances were made and broken within the space of a single night. Operations were derailed and blood spilt. Both species of combatants never knew for sure which was the greater threat: themselves or the others.

      It was with this in mind that it came as no shock when a train of constables’ wagons quietly set off from the LCO station on Earl Street armed with directions from a known arsonist in a local radical Marxian chapter. Although neighborhoods under the terror of the firms and the blocs were rarely reliable sources of information, the constables on Earl Street had learned that denizens of the underworld tended to report quite accurately on the habits of their felonious neighbors. While those collecting the information often knew that names, addresses, and times were never shared out of civic duty but rather opportunistic competition, the provenance of the information did not change the fact that it would help put violent and dangerous organizations out of business, and that was enough. So, certain in the self-interested accuracy of their source, the constables left the LCO station and moved quickly and quietly down some twists and turns until they came to the corner of Pitt Street and Fishergate.

      With well-practiced ease, the officers of the law emerged from the wagons and surrounded a tall, narrow building that seemed to almost lean over the broad fairway of Fishergate. It was as though the building was attempting to crane its head to peek at the railway station just up the street a trot, or maybe it was just trying to bend away from the flank of the

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