Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1G9BB239CGVTDQWY8G53SW

Rain hammered the cobblestones outside, and Inspector Hargreaves adjusted his collar against the biting October wind tonight, at the manor. Inside, a single candle guttered on the mahogany desk, casting trembling shadows across the cold, lifeless face of Lord Ashworth. A bloodied letter opener lay nearby, and the room smelled faintly of very expensive brandy mixed with something metallic, sharp. Hargreaves knelt slowly, noting the overturned glass, scattered papers everywhere, and the peculiar silence that seemed to breathe ominously now. Outside the study window, he glimpsed a dark figure retreating into the fog, their footsteps echoing down the gravel path. The inspector's hand trembled slightly as he reached for his notebook, knowing the truth would be far more sinister indeed.