# The Thornwood Affair The morning fog clung to Thornwood Manor like a shroud, obscuring the gardens where Lord Pemberton lay quite dead. Detective Sarah Chen arrived at precisely eight o'clock, her coat damp from the mist that refused to lift properly. The butler, Harrison, stood rigid by the entrance hall, his face pale as the marble columns flanking the doorway. "I discovered him at dawn, Detective," Harrison said, his voice trembling with emotion he struggled to carefully contain within. Lord Pemberton's body rested face-down in the rose garden, his evening clothes soaked through with morning dew and blood. A single champagne flute lay shattered nearby, its crystal fragments catching what little light penetrated the oppressive grey morning. The household staff gathered in nervous clusters, whispering anxiously about the events of last night's dinner party gone wrong. Lady Pemberton remained upstairs in her chambers, sedated by the family physician after her hysterical screaming woke the servants. Chen knelt beside the body, noting the distinctive bruising around the neck and the odd angle of the head. "Who was the last person to see Lord Pemberton alive?" she asked, surveying the faces of the assembled staff. Three people stepped forward simultaneously: the secretary, the gardener, and Lord Pemberton's own estranged daughter, Victoria, newly arrived from abroad.