The rain fell hard against the tall library window. Detective Miles watched the water streak down the glass. He turned his gaze back to the large desk. Lord Harrington slumped over a book of ancient maps. A small, neat wound was visible on his neck. A single white queen rested near his still hand. The killer had left a message for him here. This game was not over; it had just begun. The scent of old paper mixed with fresh blood. Miles knew he faced a cunning, brilliant opponent.