Run: 2026-09-23-01M36X5B3JHPBHN985FDVFSP03

The rain hammered against the mansion windows as thunder echoed. A scream pierced the air, drawing everyone toward the library. The heavy oak doors swung open revealing a gruesome discovery. Lord Edmund Blackwell lay sprawled across his antique writing desk. A golden letter opener jutted from his crumpled linen shirt. His face was pale and cold and frozen in agony. Scattered papers covered the floor like fallen white autumn leaves. His crystal decanter lay shattered beside an overturned leather chair. Nora Crane stepped inside and surveyed the gruesome scene grimly. Every guest wanted him dead after yesterday's disastrous garden party. Someone cut the phone line before Edmund died here tonight. Seven suspects remained and one of them was the killer. Thunder rolled overhead as the questions had only just begun.