Rain drummed against the window while the body grew cold. Old Arthur Cooper lay dead upon his library's Turkish rug. The heavy scent of metallic blood filled the silent room. A broken glass sat near his pale and lifeless hand. The grandfather clock chimed twelve times in the dark Hall. Dark shadows danced across the rows of dusty leather books. Nobody heard the muffled scream behind the heavy oak door. The killer left no footprints on the polished wooden floor. One gold cufflink sparkled near the victim's stiffened white neck. Private detective Silas Thorne arrived just after the clock struck. He stood in the doorway and adjusted his grey hat. This quiet country house held many dark and terrible secrets.