Detective Jameson arrived at the crime scene, a grand mansion nestled deep in the English countryside's rolling hills and verdant valleys. He stepped from his car, the chill autumn air nipping at his neck as he surveyed the scene with practiced eyes. The mansion loomed before him, its once-majestic facade now marred by the lurid glow of police lights and flashing cameras. Officers in crisp blue uniforms milled about, securing the perimeter and ushering away the gaggle of gawkers who'd gathered outside. A young constable approached, his pale face drawn and eyes haunted by what he'd seen inside those ornate, blood-stained walls. "Right this way, sir," the officer said, leading Jameson up the crumbling steps to the front door, now gaping open.