Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCQY648612A5GTJP3JSW7RY

The rain had stopped, but the gutters still whispered secrets. Inspector Hale arrived at dawn wearing yesterday's rumpled gray coat. The body lay beneath the pier, face turned toward shore. A woman in a red scarf watched from the railing. She had called the station herself, twenty-three minutes past four. Hale noticed her shoes were dry despite the soaked planks. Sergeant Doyle crouched, lifting the victim's hand with gloved fingers. Three rings, no watch, and a wedding band turned inward. Somebody dressed him carefully before pushing him into the water. The woman spoke first, asking whether they wanted her statement. Hale said nothing, letting the silence stretch between them thin. Gulls circled overhead, patient as lawyers waiting for a verdict. Somewhere behind the warehouses, a church bell counted to seven. She smiled then, and Hale understood the morning had begun.