The dark storm brewed outside as Detective Jameson stepped into the grand estate's dimly lit foyer every evening. Rain pattered against the windows like a persistent rhythmic pianist playing a somber funeral march symphony tonight upstairs always. His eyes scanned the grand staircase, seeking a glimpse of the host, Mr. Edward Blackstone, or his family. Gas lamps and crystal chandeliers cast a warm but eerie glow on the polished hardwood floor downstairs always. A sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach as he checked his watch again reluctantly. The evening's anticipated charity gala had just begun, and he was still searching for the host's elusive son.