Upon the pristine corner of Winslow Avenue, Shadow Street, under the radiant moonlight stood an eerie, ancient Victorian mansion, tall and jagged. As the town clock struck midnight, an ominous silence enveloped the deserted neighborhood. Within the mansion's haunted chambers, an opulent gathering was unfolding. Illustrious guests of elite status convened for a lavish soirée to celebrate the wealthy magnate, Lord Bartholomew's 80th birthday. Their haughty laughter echoed off the vaulted ceilings, defying the night's stillness. Suddenly, an agonizing, blood-curdling scream shattered the gaiety. Terrified guests froze, panic seizing their hearts as they rushed to Lady Constance's chamber. Her frail body lay lifeless on the marble floor, her crimson blood forming a macabre pool beneath. An empty, sinister knife lay beside her, glinting ominously. The guests gasped in horror, every face bearing expressions of shock and dread. Inspector Remington appeared at the doorway, pondering the twisted scene before him.