# The Velvet Room The grand chandelier cast dancing shadows across the marble floor as thunder rolled through the dark September night outside. Detective Sarah Chen stepped over the velvet rope, her practiced eyes already cataloging every detail of the opulent crime scene. The victim lay sprawled beside the mahogany desk, still wearing his tuxedo, a dark stain spreading across the pristine carpet. "Harrison Blackwood, age fifty-two, found by his wife at approximately ten fifteen," Officer Martinez recited from his small leather notebook. Sarah knelt beside the body, noting the peculiar angle of the head and the faint scent of almonds lingering. The study's French doors stood open despite the storm, rain soaking the Persian rug and puddling near the victim's outstretched hand. A crystal glass lay shattered nearby, its contents mixing with rainwater, creating small rivers that wound toward the antique bookshelf. "Where is Mrs. Blackwood now?" Sarah asked, standing slowly, her knees protesting after the long day of previous investigations and meetings. "Upstairs in the master bedroom with the family physician. She was quite hysterical when we arrived," Martinez replied, glancing nervously. Sarah walked to the open doors, observing muddy footprints that led from outside, crossed the study, then disappeared into the hallway. The mansion held twenty rooms, fifteen potential suspects attending tonight's charity gala, and one dead billionaire who knew too many secrets.