Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCR7GZAGS131R4QK01E1Q96

Rain hammered the greenhouse glass. Inspector Vale hated wet mornings. The body lay facing upward. Orchids framed her pale face. Someone had arranged them carefully. Blood pooled beneath the bench. No footprints marked the soil. Vale crouched and studied her. Her wristwatch had stopped ticking. Eleven seventeen, the previous night. The house held six guests. Each one claimed deep sleep. Sergeant Ames coughed behind him. "The gardener found her, sir." "He is still shaking badly." Vale nodded without looking up. One orchid was clearly missing. The empty pot said everything. Someone took a souvenir home. Rain kept drumming above them.