Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8NEZEF6872DEMZTR5EAAC

Rain lashed against the grand manor windows, blurring the already dim twilight hues outside. A chilling gust of wind rattled the ancient oak doors, echoing through the silent halls. Lord Ashworth lay sprawled upon the Persian rug, a crimson stain blossoming on his chest. The opulent study smelled faintly of pipe tobacco and now, disturbingly, a metallic tang. Inspector Davies surveyed the scene, his experienced gaze meticulously scanning every detail present. A priceless antique clock ticked rhythmically, its steady beat counterpointing the sudden stillness surrounding. Lady Ashworth wept dramatically into a silk handkerchief, claiming utter shock and disbelief always. The family butler, Jeeves, stood rigid and pale, silently observing with mournful, unwavering eyes. Young Master Thomas paced nervously, avoiding eye contact, muttering about a late-night stroll taken. Miss Eleanor, the enigmatic niece, sketched in a notebook, seemingly detached from the tragic moment. A single, scarlet rose lay clutched in Lord Ashworth's lifeless hand, oddly poignant. The air hung heavy with unspoken secrets and suspicion, promising a complex investigation ahead.