Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ01QTTZK7YMK4YVQAF4EN5D

The old vicar lay dead upon the Persian rug, his Bible open to a passage concerning divine judgment and wickedness. Mrs. Peacock screamed from the main doorway, her porcelain face draining of color as she clutched her silver locket tightly. Vance ignored the hysterical housekeeper, focusing instead upon the single white glove resting beside the dead man's cold outstretched hand. Lightning flashed beyond the tall Gothic windows, illuminating the grand library shelves where ancient dust motes danced like spectral witnesses. The butler stood silently in the shadowy corner, his expression unreadable and his polished shoes spotlessly clean unlike everything else. Someone had arranged the murder scene with care, but the broken clock on the mantelpiece showed the wrong time entirely.