The grandfather clock struck midnight in Lord Pemberton's grand estate. Detective Sarah Mills arrived just as the storm began brewing. She found the study door locked from the inside, suspiciously. The butler stood trembling, holding a silver tray of brandy. "Lord Pemberton never misses his evening drink," he whispered nervously. Sarah noticed fresh mud tracks leading away from the window. A woman's scream suddenly pierced through the old mansion's walls. The detective rushed upstairs, her hand reaching for her revolver. Lady Pemberton stood frozen, staring at her husband's lifeless body. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the Persian rug dark crimson. A letter opener protruded from between his shoulder blades deeply. The window stood open, white curtains dancing in cold wind. Sarah's trained eyes swept across the room, cataloging every detail. This was no simple burglary gone wrong, she realized quickly.