Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0MV6GDJADNZ6SMGMA8GHJH

At midnight, the bell above Blackthorn Manor's library door rang once, though everyone swore the house was empty that night. Inspector Vale found Lord Ashcombe seated beside the cold hearth, a silver letter opener buried beneath his ribs at dawn. Rain crawled down the tall windows, blurring the gardens where fresh footprints vanished into the yew maze before sunrise entirely. On the desk lay five teacups, four still warm, and one stained dark with bitter almond poison around its rim. His widow stood in the doorway without tears, twisting a pearl necklace until the clasp snapped open in her hands. Behind her, the nephew laughed too loudly, while the governess watched him with a face like thin paper in candlelight. Vale noticed mud on the Persian rug, smelling faintly of river silt and crushed greenhouse lilies near the corpse alone. Then the dead man's pocket watch chimed thirteen times, and someone upstairs began to scream his name again and again.