Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9GW7WW4ZF5CXQ1RJZRFM5

Rain lashed against the manor’s darkened windows, mirroring the tempest brewing within its ancient, stone walls tonight. Lord Ashworth lay sprawled upon the Persian rug, a single crimson stain blossoming across his expensive waistcoat now. Detective Inspector Davies arrived to a scene of utter chaos, the air thick with whispers and suppressed, frantic sobbing sounds. Lady Ashworth, pale and trembling, claimed she’d discovered him only moments before summoning the local constabulary immediately. The grand library, usually a haven for quiet contemplation, felt intensely suffocating with a palpable sense of dreadful, creeping fear. A shattered glass sat near the victim’s outstretched hand, smelling faintly of aged brandy and bitter almond extract indeed. Only a priceless, antique letter opener was missing from its customary place amongst the ornate silver desk accessories nearby. The staff, a collection of nervous faces, huddled together in the hallway, each avoiding direct eye contact with the weary inspector. Butler Jeeves, stoic and impeccably dressed, offered a concise account of the evening’s unfolding events calmly and without emotion shown. Young Miss Eleanor, the Lord's niece, insisted she had been practicing piano upstairs and heard absolutely nothing at all.