Detective John Marlow strode into the dimly lit crime scene cautiously. Blood splattered the walls and pooled ominously on the carpet. Shattered glass from a broken vase crunched under his footsteps loudly. A chillling scream pierced the silence, echoing in the hallway. Forensic team members busied themselves documenting the gruesome crime scene. Marlow knelt beside the victim, taking in the details closely. The corpse, a man in his mid-40s, lay face down. Darkness veiled the truth, but evidence would tell the story. Marlow's keen eyes scanned for clues, any sign of a struggle. The victim's hands were clenched into fists, nails digging deep. In his right hand, a cryptic note was found tightly gripped. Marlow carefully extracted the paper, a vital piece of evidence. Whatever the note contained, it held the key to everything. He decided against reading it, to avoid any contamination hastily. Securing it in an envelope, he called the forensics team. They would analyze it, comparing to known handwriting samples meticulously. As Marlow stood, his mind raced through possibilities endlessly. Motives lay in wait, hidden in the victim's past life. Marlow knew time was ticking, the killer was out free. He had to work quickly, to catch the perpetrator yet. The game had begun, and Marlow was ready to play.