The mansion towered ominously, shrouded in darkness, as Detective Ford's weary eyes scanned the crime scene. He parked his vintage Kharlson Fawks, grabbing his ever-present Colt Dagger .45, a reminder of past cases solved, and grudgingly stepped into the chilling night. He was met by Officer Roberts, a rookie with bated breath, and the coroner, Dr. Fleischer, a cigarette dangling nonchalantly from his lips. "What do we have, Detective?" Roberts' voice betrayed his unease, yet masked by feigned bravado.