Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9JAHDKPN7SBY0ZQSRXY7X

Fog swallowed the harbor, muffling footsteps along the slick dock. A copper lantern swung, painting ghosts on weathered cedar planks. Detective Marlowe lit a cigarette, watching ripples scatter moonlight quietly. Tonight's victim lay still, coat buttoned, eyes fixed upward composed. Blood darkened the collar, a neat, almost delicate stain there. No weapon was visible; only the whisper of furious struggle. Nearby footprints headed toward the bluff and then vanished suddenly. A woman in violet watched from a shadowed doorway, trembling. She held a telegram, edges soaked with seawater and dread. Marlowe crouched, noting the angle of throat wound carefully now. Something about the tilt smelled familiar: jasmine, rain, and gunpowder. He whispered the victim's name, as if summoning an echo.