Run: 2026-09-03-01M1K9VA1G1WMVZSEFS24M1135

The rain hammered the cobblestones outside the locked study door. Inside, Lord Ashworth lay sprawled across his stately oak desk. A single candle flickered, casting long shadows over the papers. Inspector Blackwood knelt, his gloved fingers brushing the cold floor. No forced entry, no weapon, only a single chess piece. The white queen rested perfectly between the victim's lifeless fingers. A faint scent of almonds hung in the stagnant air. Blackwood whispered to his sergeant, "The butler's alibi feels weak." Outside, the storm intensified, drowning out all other nearby sounds. He noticed a single muddy footprint near the open window.