Run: 2026-10-05-01M46BJS5YC6XYH5FR74T9HAXQ

Rain battered Blackthorn Manor as midnight swallowed the final bell. Inside, the guests pretended not to hear the sudden scream. Detective Mara Voss set down her untouched glass of wine. She had come for dinner, not another evening with death. The butler stood trembling beneath a portrait of their host. His white gloves were clean, but his cuffs were crimson. He led her upstairs without speaking, avoiding every polished mirror. Lord Blackthorn lay beside his desk, smiling at the ceiling. A silver letter opener protruded neatly from his velvet waistcoat. Beside him, an overturned chessboard scattered ivory pieces like teeth. Mara noticed one black pawn clenched within the dead hand. Then someone downstairs laughed, and the butler locked the door.