The Chime of Deception

Detective Morgan stood in the dimly lit library, studying the ornate grandfather clock. The wealthy recluse, Mr. Harrington, had been found dead just hours before. No signs of a struggle, no forced entry—just the sound of the clock ticking away, out of sync with the rest of the house.

Morgan paced around the room, her eyes landing on the lone chair by the fire. Something felt off. She leaned in closer, noticing a faint scuff mark on the floor beneath the chair.

Suddenly, the clock chimed loudly, startling her. The sound echoed unnaturally. She followed the noise and pushed against the wood paneling behind the clock. It gave way, revealing a hidden room.

Inside, Harrington sat at a desk, very much alive, with a glass of wine in hand.

"You weren't supposed to find this," he said, calmly.

Morgan narrowed her eyes. "You faked your death?"

Harrington smiled. "Not exactly. I needed to disappear."

As Morgan reached for her handcuffs, her phone buzzed with an urgent call.

The voice on the other end? Mr. Harrington’s lawyer, announcing the discovery of his body, freshly deceased.

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