CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
A guardsman escorted them at speed through several interconnecting rooms, all dim with the early hour.
“Hold here,” the guardsman whispered before stepping into the next room, closing the door quietly but securely behind him.
The bookshelves of the salon in which they stood held a vast number of volumes, as well as clocks. Polidori counted thirty-six clocks of varying times, scattered at regular intervals among the books. They ticked, none in unison, creating a dull arhythmical clacking that reverberated within the increasingly pained center of Polidori’s skull. A servant entered and lit the lamps, kindled the fire. Polidori bit at his lower lip, nervous about what he would find here, thankful for the warmth and discrete pressure of Officer Hamilton’s shoulder against
