Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0PXPAC5M772A3P104DRT36

Rain rattled the conservatory windows as Inspector Vale arrived at Blackthorn Hall, summoned by a bell no servant admitted ringing. Inside, twelve guests waited beneath portraits darkened by smoke, each pretending not to watch the library's bolted door too closely. Lady Blackthorn sat nearest the fire, her gloves spotless, her face ash pale, her teacup trembling against its saucer's rim. Vale removed his wet hat slowly, noticing mud on the Persian rug forming a trail toward the locked room ahead. Before he could speak, a muffled thud sounded within the library, followed by music from an unseen gramophone turning itself. The butler swore the key was missing, though Vale saw its outline pressing through the man's waistcoat pocket plainly enough. When the door finally opened, Lord Blackthorn lay across his desk, ink blackening the wound beneath his white silk collar. On the blotter, drying beside his hand, someone had written Vale's name in blood, using the victim's fountain pen carefully.