Run: 2026-05-10-01KR91EZTZZWYY6PZ41DR3GNJY

The heavy rain fell hard against the old window panes while the clock struck twelve in the silent drawing room. Lord Harrington lay sprawled across the Persian rug with a silver letter opener buried deep in his pale, thin neck. A single glass of amber brandy stood untouched on the mahogany table, smelling faintly of bitter and crushed almond seeds. Inspector Thorne stepped over the threshold, his heavy boots clicking softly against the cold marble of the wide entrance hall. He looked at the dead man and wondered who among the grieving family had the motive to kill him tonight.