The body lay there, cold. Blood pooled on the floor. Detective Miller entered the room. She scanned the scene carefully. A knife glinted nearby, bloody. No footprints marked the carpet. The window stood wide open. Wind blew through the curtains. Something felt wrong about this. Who could have done this? The victim was Mr. Blackwell. He owned the old mansion. His eyes stared at nothing. Miller knelt beside him slowly. She noted the stab wound. It looked clean and precise. This was professional work, then. She stood up and sighed. The night was still young. But darkness hid the killer.