Rain lashed against the frosted windows, a relentless torrent. Fog shrouded the quaint village, a damp, spectral blanket. Inspector Davies stood rigid, his gaze fixed on the body. Nearby, a lone gas lamp flickered, casting grotesque shadows. The victim, a renowned artist, lay sprawled on the cold studio floor. A single crimson stain blossomed on the pristine white canvas. His brush, still clutched in a lifeless hand, hinted at unfinished work. Scattered paint tubes held muted colours, a stark contrast to the vibrant scene. The air hung heavy with the scent of turpentine and something else, something acrid. Davies inhaled deeply, his mind already grappling with the puzzle. Time to unravel the truth hidden beneath the storm.