Run: 2026-07-07-01KWZ40QVPM7XVHZ40KM2B4CE8

The cold rain streaked down the study's dark windows tonight. Dead Lord Ashworth lay crumpled behind the heavy mahogany desk. A single bullet hole stained his expensive silk waistcoat red. No weapon lay nearby, just a slowly spreading pool of ink. The fireplace crackled, casting long dancing shadows across the room. Inspector Hale arrived, his wet coat dripping on the floor. He studied the scene with his cold and calculating eyes. A single glass of brandy rested on the mahogany desk. The butler stood silently in the doorway, looking very pale. He mentioned hearing a loud argument right before the shot.