Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5BB4AHB9E2739C0ZJTA38

The grand old clock struck midnight with a hollow finality. A single scream pierced the silent, velvet-dark manor house. Lord Ashworth lay dead upon his Persian rug, quite cold. A shattered brandy glass glittered near his outstretched left hand. The study door was firmly locked from the very inside. Yet his keys were missing from their customary waistcoat pocket. His widow, Lucille, now wept softly in the drafty hallway. The butler stood perfectly still, his face a pale mask. Outside, the relentless rain painted slow tears upon the windows. Everyone present had both a motive and no alibi.