The golden clock on the heavy oak mantle struck midnight just as the primary guest slumped forward onto the velvet. A silver letter opener protruded from his silk waistcoat while a single drop of crimson blood ruined the white tablecloth. Nobody in the crowded dining room dared to speak or move while the heavy scent of bitter almonds filled the. The hostess clutched her pearl necklace so tightly that the string snapped and scattered small white beads across the floor. Someone must have turned the brass key because every heavy wooden door was locked firmly from the very inside tonight. Inspector Miller stepped through the French windows and adjusted his spectacles before examining the body lying on the patterned rug. He noticed that the victim still held a scrap of parchment tightly gripped within his cold and stiffening right hand. This weekend at the manor was supposed to be a celebration but now it would certainly end in a tragedy.