Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYA4QM3ZMV8C7K0FSW5BK38

Rain lashed against the grand manor’s windows, mirroring the turbulent emotions brewing within its ancient stone walls tonight. Lord Ashworth, a man known for his vast fortune and cutting remarks, lay motionless upon the Persian rug so still. Detective Inspector Davies arrived promptly, his weathered face grim as he surveyed the opulent, yet unsettling, drawing-room scene. A single crimson rose rested delicately upon the victim’s chest, a bizarre and strangely poetic final gesture truly. The assembled guests, a collection of wealthy relatives and disgruntled acquaintances, murmured anxiously amongst themselves in hushed tones. Lady Ashworth, draped in black velvet, sobbed dramatically, claiming complete shock and denying any involvement whatsoever fully. Butler Jeeves, impeccably dressed as always, maintained a stoic composure while offering Davies a glass of aged brandy quickly. Footprints, muddy and indistinct, marred the polished parquet flooring, hinting at a frantic departure or a desperate struggle maybe. A shattered porcelain vase lay near the fireplace, its delicate fragments scattered like broken promises across the hearth now. The air hung heavy with the scent of lilies and something else entirely, a metallic tang Davies instantly recognized painfully.