The fog rolled over the hills and covered the old manor house in a thick blanket of cold white silence. Inside the library, Lord Blackwood sat in his favorite leather chair with a silver dagger buried deep in his chest. The maid dropped her tray of tea and screamed when she saw the crimson blood soaking into the expensive rug. Detective Miller checked his pocket watch before stepping under the yellow tape that marked the entrance to the crime scene. He noticed a broken glass near the fireplace and knew immediately that this was not going to be an accident. Everyone in the room looked guilty, but only one of them had the cold heart required to commit such murder.