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"A church art exhibition turns deadly . . .
‘Art, my dear boy,’ said Mr Askern, ‘especially sacred art, needs tradition. Tradition is the bedrock of our art . . .’
He broke off, staring at the woman in front of him. Her face seemed to lose all definition and her skin turned an unnatural shade of putty-coloured grey. ‘Art,’ she said, her voice scarcely more than a whisper. ‘Art! Oh my God, art!’
She swayed dangerously. Jack leapt...
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