The rain hammered against stained glass windows of Blackwood Manor as Inspector Claire Vane stepped through the heavy oak doors. She could smell the metallic scent of blood even before she saw the body lying sprawled across the Persian rug. Lord Blackwood sat slumped in his leather chair, his dinner jacket torn and his crystal whiskey glass shattered beside him. Three houseguests stood frozen in the doorway, their faces pale as marble statues under the flickering chandelier's dim golden light. Someone had turned the library into a tomb, and only one of the five people present could be the killer.