Dust motes danced in beams. A crystal glinted on carpet. Lady Ashworth was quite dead. Her pearls lay scattered widely. A teacup lay on its side. Dark liquid stained the wood. Lord Ashworth clutched his chest. He knelt beside her still form. His weeping echoed in the room. A butler stood by the door. He gazed at the silent scene. His eyes held no emotion. Inspector Thorne arrived quite late. He surveyed the opulent room. This case felt very complex.