The grandfather clock struck midnight in the empty Ashford mansion. Detective Sarah Chen arrived precisely at twelve fifteen that evening. Lord Ashford's body lay sprawled across his mahogany study floor. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the antique Persian rug crimson. His champagne glass remained untouched on the polished oak desk. The French windows stood open, white curtains dancing in wind. Sarah noticed muddy footprints leading from the garden path outside. The household staff claimed they heard nothing during dinner service. Lady Ashford sobbed quietly while clutching her pearl necklace tightly. Something about this crime scene felt deliberately staged to Sarah.