Run: 2026-09-10-01M25DG293BPTCWZNN850WFR3N

Rain hammered the mansion windows as Inspector Vale stepped inside. The butler met him with trembling hands and pallid face. A woman's scream had shattered the quiet dinner party upstairs. Lord Ashcroft lay dead in his locked study, blood pooling. No weapon was found, and no footprints marked the rug. Inspector Vale studied the crimson stain near the fireplace grate. The window was closed, yet a cold wind touched him. He noticed a broken teacup beside the victim's outstretched hand. Its contents had dried into a dark, suspicious, bitter residue. A single locked door stood between the corpse and answers. Then the lights flickered, and the butler began to sob. Inspector Vale whispered, "Who among you loved Lord Ashcroft least?" Nobody answered, but every guest avoided the widow's steady gaze. Outside, thunder rolled like a carriage over the gravel drive.