Run: 2026-09-23-01M36T5P8REHMBQN2JE1C3XBMC

The morning fog clung to the cobblestone streets of Blackmoor like a burial shroud hiding terrible sins beneath its veil. Inspector Calloway stepped through the doorway of the grand manor house and immediately noticed the wineglass, shattered into jagged pieces. The body of Sir Edmund Hale lay sprawled across the Persian rug, his face frozen in a final grim expression. A thin crimson trail led from the fireplace toward the darkened hallway, disappearing beneath the heavy oak study door beyond. The grandfather clock in the corner struck seven times, each chime echoing through the silent rooms like an accusatory finger. Nobody in the house could account for the scream heard at precisely half past midnight, yet everyone had heard it. Inspector Calloway surveyed the six pale faces gathered in the drawing room, wondering which of them had driven the knife. The killer sat among them now, watching everyone carefully, breathing evenly, pretending to mourn the dead with practiced, convincing sorrow.