Run: 2026-07-09-01KX40Z0ZPRZRN32DHEJ1EF46R

Rain polished the cobblestones as Inspector Vale arrived at Blackthorn Manor, summoned by a telephone call that ended abruptly at midnight. The butler waited beneath the portico, clutching a silver candlestick, while thunder concealed unfamiliar footsteps approaching outside the manor tonight. Inside, guests huddled around the library fire, their faces pale beneath portraits of ancestors who seemed equally suspicious and watchful. Lord Blackthorn lay sprawled beside his desk, an ivory knife lodged neatly between his shoulder blades without blood on it. No window stood open, no door showed damage, and every guest insisted they had remained together during dinner downstairs tonight. Vale noticed a wet footprint beside the corpse, pointing inward, although everyone claimed the storm had begun much later outside.