The chandelier flickered overhead as Lady Blackwood collapsed onto the Persian rug, her necklace scattering beads across the polished floor. Detective Miller stood frozen near the grand piano, his champagne glass hovering midway between the tray and his parted lips. Three hundred guests fell silent simultaneously, their festive masks suddenly grotesque against the backdrop of dying candles and whispered suspicions. Someone had finally silenced the hostess who threatened to reveal every dirty secret hidden within these gilded manor walls tonight. Miller knelt beside the body, noticing the thin trickle of blood beneath her diamond tiara and those vacant staring eyes. The orchestra had stopped playing, leaving only the ticking grandfather clock to mark time until justice would finally be served.