Midnight thunder rattled the ancient windows of desolate Marlowe's estate. A lone gardener stumbled upon crimson footprints near broken glass. Blood stained the hedges leading towards the mansion’s grand entrance. Inside, Lady Wilcox stood frozen, face pale with unspeakable horror. Detective Sinclair arrived moments later, rain-soaked coat brushing muddy floors. He knelt carefully beside the body, noting every peculiar detail. Thunder boomed again, as secrets whispered through shadowed, silent corridors. Buried motives waited patiently, hidden beneath polished smiles and alliances.