The old clockmaker, Mr. Langley, was found slumped over his workbench, a half-repaired pocket watch beside him. “Heart attack,” the doctor declared, but Amelia, his apprentice, wasn’t convinced. She recalled how Mr. Langley had fretted over a missing watch—an heirloom he swore was stolen.
Scanning his shop, Amelia noticed the repaired watches were neatly labeled except one. It bore the name “Gilbert Wren,” a customer who had insisted he never brought in a watch. That was the moment everything clicked.
She pried open the casing and found a thin layer of crushed digitalis—poison, absorbing through Langley’s fingertips over time.
Confronting Gilbert with the altered watch, his face paled. He had stolen Langley’s heirloom and replaced it with a copy, fearing discovery. But Langley had begun to suspect, and Gilbert ensured silence.
When the police arrived, Gilbert’s trembling hands gave him away. The ticking of the clocks continued, unbroken.
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