Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95B80F9C1R4WJVNETMBXFP

The grand manor house stood dark and silent on the isolated, wind-swept moor, quite deserted. Inside, the vast ballroom lay hushed, save for the quiet murmur of disturbed air currents softly. Detective Inspector Thorne pushed open the heavy oak doors, his breath clouding visibly in the chill air. A uniformed constable, pale and shaken, stood rigidly near the ornate fireplace, pointing a grim finger forward. On the crimson Persian rug, a man lay sprawled, his vacant eyes staring up at the shadowed chandelier. Blood blossomed darkly on his pristine white tuxedo shirt, chilling the very atmosphere significantly. A delicately painted porcelain teacup lay shattered beside him, its pieces reflecting the dim emergency lighting. Thorne knelt carefully, observing the scene with practiced, unblinking eyes, noting all the surrounding details. No obvious murder weapon presented itself anywhere nearby, deepening the immediate puzzling circumstances profoundly. "Cause of death is blunt force trauma, Inspector," the constable whispered, his voice barely audible and trembling. Thorne reached for his small notebook, a cold determination settling firmly within his professional heart. This grand, silent house held a terrible secret, and he would painstakingly uncover it quite soon.