"I’m told you are the only ones who can help me," I waste no time with greetings. My arm is outstretched holding the object. She reaches out her hand over the counter and wordlessly takes it from me. "I’ve been everywhere," I croak, the desperation obvious in my dry voice. She looks deep into my eyes and points to the figure on my right. In this tiny room, which measures three by five metres is a man whose face I cannot see. He’s on the phone, shoulders hunched, sitting behind a display case, talking in low, measured tones. She hands him the object. He rises to his full height...
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