Run: 2026-07-09-01KX4182HDYV14A8XNZDBBM5NK

Rain polished the manor windows while Inspector Vale counted thirteen guests and noticed one chair remained conspicuously empty beside him. At midnight, the grandfather clock coughed twice, stopped, and revealed blood creeping silently beneath the locked library door before them. Nobody moved until Lady Ashcombe whispered that her husband possessed the only key, hanging inside his waistcoat pocket that very evening. Vale opened the door and found Lord Ashcombe seated upright, smiling faintly, with no wound except a blackened fingertip visible. On the desk, twelve untouched champagne glasses surrounded a thirteenth glass, still warm, bearing Inspector Vale's unmistakable engraved initials beneath it.