8 December, 1854. England, in alliance with France, has been at war with Russia for months. Florence Nightingale is nursing the diseased British Expeditionary Force in the Crimea. And our hero; our villain - Emmanuel Barthélemy - is visiting a man at 73 Warren Street, in the heart of radical London, for the very last time. Barthélemy is not in a good mood. It is a dank, freezing-cold, wet night. He is footsore and weary, and he has plenty on his mind. In his pocket is a ticket for travel to the continent: his plan, to assassinate the Emperor of the French. But half an hour later two innocent men would be dead. And Barthélemy would be in the hands of the police. The newspapers of Victorian England were soon in a frenzy: Who was this man, come to its shores from the terrifying revolutions of Paris to brutally slay two upstanding British subjects?
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