Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0GB5WK3Q1B1FG6DWN6959V

The bell above the door jingled as Margaret shook rain from her umbrella, the scent of cinnamon and yeast wrapping around her like a warm shawl. "You're late. I saved you the last cruller, but only just." "Bless you. I would have wrestled someone for it." "Wrestled? You? In that cardigan?" "Don't underestimate a woman who's been to three council meetings this week." A pause, the clink of a cup settling onto a saucer. "You heard about Harold, then." "Heard? I found the poor man. Face down in his prize-winning marrow, if you can believe it." "I can't. Harold wouldn't leave that marrow unattended for the Queen herself." "Exactly what I said to Constable Briggs. And do you know what he told me?" "What?" "That I should leave the thinking to the professionals. The professionals, Edith. The man still can't spell 'suspicious' without asking." "So what are we going to do about it?" "We? I only came in for a cruller." "And yet here you are, telling me everything. Sit down. I'll put the kettle on properly. Now—start from the beginning, and don't leave out the marrow."