Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DA7Z6M8818R134WRAY69JC

The rain fell hard on Ashford Manor that November night. Inspector Thomas Greaves stood alone beneath the dripping oak trees. Somewhere deep inside, a clock struck midnight with terrible finality. Lady Eleanor Ashford had been found dead in her study. Greaves pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped inside. The room smelled of brandy, candle wax, and something sharper. Her body slumped over the mahogany desk, one hand outstretched. A silver letter opener lay gleaming beside her open palm. Nothing in the room appeared disturbed, except for one detail. The window behind her hung open, admitting the freezing storm. Yet the rug beneath the window was perfectly, impossibly dry. Greaves knelt down, sensing this case would never be simple.