Detective Jameson gazed at the lifeless body on floorboards. A single bullet hole marred the victim's forehead, blood pooling. Crimson rivulets trickled down pale, unblemished skin to collar. Jameson's eyes traced the path to the victim's still hands. Fingers curled around something metallic, glinting under lights. He knelt for closer inspection, brow furrowed in concentration. The object was a small, antique key, its teeth rusted. Jameson plucked it from the stiffening grasp, turning it over. Engraved on its surface was a name: "Eleanor Blackwood."