The old mansion stood silent against the dark stormy night. Detective Sarah Mills stepped out of her car very slowly. Rain pounded the gravel driveway like a thousand tiny drums. She had received the anonymous call just one hour ago. Someone inside this house had died under mysterious strange circumstances. The front door creaked open before she could even knock. A pale butler gestured for her to enter the foyer. Blood stained the marble floor near the grand wooden staircase. The body of Lord Harrison lay twisted at impossible angles. His cold dead eyes stared up at the crystal chandelier. Seven guests had been present at dinner earlier this evening. Now each one of them was a prime murder suspect. Sarah knelt beside the corpse and studied the fatal wound. This was no accident and certainly not a simple suicide. The killer was still somewhere inside this very old house.