Midnight rain fell in heavy sheets against the ancient manor’s windows, obscuring moonlight while eerie shadows danced across dust-covered floors. Detective Louisa Carver arrived silently, her footsteps echoing through the grand hall as lightning flickered across polished ancient marble columns. A single bloodstained glove lay abandoned on the oriental rug near the mahogany desk, its twin mysteriously vanished without trace. Sir Bennett Thurston’s lifeless body slumped against a velvet-covered chaise lounge, his face frozen in grim shock and silent accusation. Lady Clarissa’s trembling voice quivered from the library’s ornate stained-glass doorway, pleading innocence while fingernails bit into trembling pale knuckles. Detective Carver inhaled sharply, noting a shattered porcelain teacup on the floor’s edge, smelling bitter almonds mixed with spilled tea. She understood instantly that this was no accident; motive lurked behind every portrait and whispered secret in this cursed estate.