The rain pounded relentlessly on the old mansion's roof while thunder crashed across the sky like angry celestial drums. Detective Sarah Morgan stared at the lifeless body sprawled across the antique Persian rug in the grand library. Blood had seeped into the expensive fabric, creating a dark halo around the victim's head where the bullet entered. The household staff huddled near the doorway, their faces pale with shock as they whispered among themselves fearfully. A crystal tumbler lay shattered beside an overturned chair, whiskey mingling with blood in a macabre cocktail on the floor. Sarah noticed the victim's hand was clutching something tightly, a small object that glinted gold in the dim lighting. "Nobody leaves this room," she commanded, her voice cutting through the tension as she pulled on latex examination gloves. The grandfather clock in the corner struck midnight, each resonant chime seeming to echo the finality of Lord Blackwood's death.