Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8VS7RPTWAJYF3YX34CB7H

Rain lashed the ancient manor house on Blackthorn Hill as thunder cracked the midnight sky apart. Detective Eliza Thorne arrived late, her trench coat soaked through from the relentless downpour outside. She pushed open the creaking oak door and stepped into the dimly lit foyer beyond. A butler stood frozen there, his face pale white like a ghost in candlelight glow. "Inspector, thank God you've come so quickly after our frantic emergency call tonight," he stammered. Eliza nodded sharply then followed him down the long corridor lined with stern portraits. Gasps echoed from the drawing room where guests huddled in shocked, terrified silence now. In the center lay Lord Harrington, lifeless on Persian rug with a dagger in chest. Blood pooled darkly around the ornate handle, staining silk threads a deep crimson red. No one spoke as Eliza surveyed the scene, her keen eyes noting every vital clue.