The rain lashed against the windowpanes with a relentless, steady drumming sound. Detective Miller stared out at the dark, empty street. A lone streetlamp flickered, casting long, dancing shadows on the wet pavement. Inside the study, the air was thick with expensive cigar smoke and dread. Lord Ashworth’s body lay slumped over his mahogany desk, very still. A single, ornate letter opener protruded from his back, gleaming wickedly. The room was locked from the inside, a puzzle with no answer. Miller sighed, pulling on his gloves, knowing the game was now afoot.