Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2FF6TZ599MJHJ0SEDN767M

The rain stopped at midnight precisely. A single shot rang out. The clock struck twelve, then silence. Mrs. Whitmore lay on the floor. Her study smelled of gunpowder. Someone had closed the window. The glass was not broken. A teacup sat on the desk. It still held lukewarm tea. The killer left no footprints. Only a single white glove. Inspector Graves arrived moments later. He scanned the room quietly. "Nobody enters or leaves now." The butler stood pale and trembling. He held a silver tray. "I heard nothing unusual," he said. The inspector's eyes narrowed. "That's exactly what concerns me."