In the heart of fog-laden London, Detective Inspectors found a body. The victim, Mr. Henry Blackwood, lay sprawled across his study floor. A single gunshot wound pierced his back. No signs of struggle or forced entry marred the room's pristine state. A faint scent of perfume lingered, suggesting a female visitor. A lone candle flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls adorned with portraits of Blackwood's ancestors. The clock ticked away the seconds, echoing the detective's mounting unease. The case was far from open and shut.