The morning fog hung heavy, shrouding the village. Inspector Grey arrived, his trench coat billowing. The town square buzzed with whispers. A crowd gathered, faces pale with fear. A body lay sprawled, a crimson pool. Murder most foul, the air thick with dread. Grey knelt, examining the lifeless form. A glint caught his eye, a clue. The victim's hand clutched a torn note. He rose, resolute, the hunt had begun.