Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRAF5S04HY82PE41C6CPBZ

Detective Harlow Quinn descended the crumbling steps into the abandoned Tube station, her torch beam cutting through decades of darkness. The metal stairs groaned under her weight. Three floors below ground level, the familiar Underground tiles gave way to rough-hewn stone walls slick with moisture. "Watch your step, ma'am." PC Bennett's voice echoed from below. "Scene's just around the bend." Quinn's leather watch caught the dim emergency lighting as she checked the time - 3:47 AM. The call had dragged her from her bed thirty minutes ago. Suspicious death, they'd said. Location: old Camden Town station, closed since the seventies. The passage opened into a cavernous chamber. Portable flood lights cast harsh shadows across makeshift wooden stalls and overturned tables. Market debris littered the ground - scattered playing cards, broken glass vials, torn fabric awnings. In the center lay their victim, sprawled face-down on the platform. Quinn approached, noting the lack of blood despite the violence suggested by the scene around him. "Male, approximately sixty." DS Watson crouched beside the body, snapping photos. "No ID, no wallet. Probably a vagrant who found his way in." Quinn circled the scene slowly. "Time of death?" "ME puts it between midnight and two AM. Likely natural causes - heart attack maybe. Poor bastard probably got lost down here." The detective's eyes narrowed. Something wasn't right. The victim's clothes were expensive - handmade Italian leather shoes, tailored wool coat. Not vagrant attire. And there was something in his clenched right hand. She knelt down, carefully prying open the rigid fingers. A small brass compass tumbled out, its face etched with intricate patterns she'd never seen before. A strange green patina coated its surface. "Bag this as evidence." Quinn passed it to the forensics tech, then turned back to Watson. "These stalls - what do you make of them?" Watson shrugged. "Old market perhaps? Though I've never heard of shops down here." "Neither have I." Quinn's torch beam swept across the debris. Playing cards painted with bizarre symbols. Empty glass vials with residue that seemed to shimmer. And there - half-hidden under a fallen awning - a carved token made of bone. "Detective?" A familiar voice called from the entrance. Quinn turned to see Eva Kowalski hurrying toward them, her round glasses slightly fogged from the underground dampness. The research assistant clutched her leather satchel close. "Ms. Kowalski. This is an active crime scene. How did you-" "I saw the police cars up top." Eva tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. "I've been researching these old stations. When I heard..." She trailed off, eyes fixed on the brass compass in the evidence bag. Her freckled face went pale. Quinn caught the reaction. "You recognize this?" "I..." Eva adjusted her glasses. "It's just an old compass." But Quinn noticed how the younger woman's fingers tightened on her satchel strap, how her eyes darted to the bone token half-hidden nearby. The detective had interviewed enough witnesses to recognize someone holding back information. "Watson, clear the scene for a moment." Quinn waited until they were alone before continuing. "Ms. Kowalski, three years ago my partner disappeared investigating a case that led him to these tunnels. I found his badge down here, nothing else. Now we have a well-dressed victim clutching an unusual compass, surrounded by evidence of some kind of... market." Eva's green eyes widened slightly at the word 'market'. "I think you know more than you're saying. This isn't just an abandoned station, is it?" The research assistant glanced nervously at the dark tunnel entrance. "Detective, some things are better left alone. For your own safety." "A man is dead. If you know anything-" "The compass points to places that shouldn't exist." Eva spoke quickly, voice barely above a whisper. "That's all I can tell you. Please, don't pursue this further." Quinn studied the younger woman's face. After eighteen years on the force, she'd learned to trust her instincts. And right now, they were screaming that she'd stumbled onto something much bigger than a simple suspicious death. She turned back to the scene, seeing it with new eyes. Not just debris, but evidence of something impossible. Something that might finally explain what happened to DS Morris three years ago. The detective's jaw tightened as she made her decision. Whatever secrets this underground market held, she would uncover them - no matter the cost.