He stood in the brisk air, snow swirling around him, smoke rising from his pipe. He had been warned that his life was in danger. Each warning became more personal, but always promising his death. He stood defiant, by God, he was Walter Harrington, Bishop of Wallington, and no one was going to stop him from doing his job. Miles away, three people plotted Walter's death. He had done them wrong, he and his Church, and now they would pay. They had been planning this for years, and the time to kill the bishop had finally arrived. In plain sight, a single shot rang out. The next day newspapers would read "bishop murdered."
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