The rain hammered against the library windows as Detective Sarah Chen studied the body sprawled across the Persian rug below. Lord Ashworth lay face down, a silver letter opener protruding from between his shoulder blades, blood pooling beneath him. The grandfather clock in the corner struck midnight, its chimes echoing through the room where death had visited tonight. Six dinner guests stood frozen in the doorway, their faces pale with shock, each one a potential suspect now. Sarah pulled on her latex gloves and knelt beside the victim, noting the expensive cologne still lingering in the air. "Nobody leaves this manor," she announced firmly, her voice cutting through the tension like the blade that killed him. The butler wrung his hands nervously, his starched collar now askew, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold. Outside, lightning illuminated the estate grounds, revealing no escape routes through the storm that trapped them all here together. Sarah knew that somewhere among these frightened faces hid a killer, and she had until dawn to find them.