A chilling November wind howled mournfully through the skeletal branches of the ancient oak trees. Detective Miles Corbin surveyed the desolate scene with a practiced, weary gaze this dismal evening. Inside the grand, decaying mansion, a prominent philanthropist lay tragically dead upon the Persian rug. His lifeless eyes stared blankly upwards, reflecting the opulent but now somber surroundings surrounding him. A single, crimson stain marred the pristine white of his expensive silk smoking jacket. Inspector Davies examined the ornate desk, searching for any clue left by the elusive perpetrator. Shadows danced eerily in the flickering lamplight, obscuring vital details for the investigation. The oppressive silence of the drawing-room amplified the detective's growing sense of unease here.