The clock chimed midnight as a shrill scream echoed through the grand halls of the old mansion's corridors. Shadows danced eerily along the flickering candlelit walls, casting haunting shapes that seemed to follow each hurried, whispered footstep. Rain lashed against the windows like ghostly fingers tapping secrets, unheard by those within the thick stone walls. Lady Eleanor, clutching her crimson silk robe, descended the staircase cautiously, her heart pounding like a frantic, desperate drumbeat. She noticed the door to the library slightly ajar, enticingly inviting her to uncover its dark, hidden mysteries tonight. As she pushed it open, the room was filled with an unsettling silence that was unbearably heavy. Illuminated by the fireplace's dying embers, the crumpled form of a man lay motionless across the thick Persian carpet. Detective Inspector Harrington arrived promptly, donning a rain-soaked trench coat, his keen eyes quickly surveying this unsettling scene before him.