Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1G8EDSE6VMHPWPDK2BWPZB

The rain hammered relentlessly against the windows of Blackwood Manor, completely drowning out the distant tolling of the midnight bell. Inside the grand foyer, candles flickered and guttered in the draft, casting trembling shadows across the polished marble floor below. Detective Eleanor Vance adjusted her collar and stepped through the doorway, her keen eyes already cataloging every detail visible there. The body lay crumpled at the foot of the grand staircase, one pale hand outstretched as if reaching for help. Sir Reginald Blackwood, the victim, had been the wealthiest man in the entire county, and now he was certainly dead. A rose lay beside him, its crimson petals darkened with blood, and Eleanor felt a chill crawl up her spine. She crouched beside the corpse, noting the unnatural angle of his neck and the absolute absence of any defensive wounds. The butler, Jenkins, stood trembling in the corner, his face ashen, clutching a silver tray with white-knuckled and desperate hands. Where were you, she asked quietly, when the master fell, and the servant's eyes darted toward the locked library door. Eleanor followed his gaze, her heart beginning to pound, knowing that whatever secret lay beyond that door had killed him.