The fog hung heavy over Grimshaw Manor, clinging to the ancient stones like a shroud. Inside, a fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows that danced with the dust motes in the air. Detective Inspector Davies shivered, though not entirely from the chill. He’d seen his share of unsettling scenes, but Grimshaw Manor had a different feel, a weight of unspoken secrets that pressed down on him.
Lord Grimshaw, the manor’s eccentric owner, had been found dead that morning, slumped in his study, a rare first edition of Poe’s “The Raven” clutched in his hand. The official cause of death was a heart attack, but Davies wasn’t convinced. Something about the scene felt staged, too deliberate. The room was meticulously tidy, almost sterile, except for the book and a single raven feather lying on the desk.
The only other...