In the dim library, a single candle flickered. An unusual silence shrouded the room, broken only by a clock ticking. Sir Henry's body was discovered slumped in his chair, a letter clutched in his hand. The letter, supposedly from his estranged sister, was unfinished. A faint smell of poison lingered in the air. The butler, ordinarily unobtrusive, appeared visibly shaken. The Intricate silver locket around Sir Henry's neck was open but empty. The once vibrant library now held an unspoken secret. Rain began to tap persistently against the windowpanes. The murder mystery had just begun.