Rain drummed against the window while the clock struck twelve. Jasper poured a stiff drink and stared at the door. Silence filled the dusty parlor before a sudden, heavy thud. He dropped his glass when he saw the blood pooling. Deep crimson stained the white rug beneath his brother's chest. No one else was inside this locked and bolted room. Cold air rushed through a window that was once shut. Someone hiding in the shadows watched Jasper tremble with fear. A silver blade reflected light from the dying hearth fire. The killer smiled while stepping slowly toward the final witness.