This audiobook is narrated by a digital voice.

The grandfather clock in Detective Inspector Archibald Thornfield's study chimed midnight as he closed the leather-bound journal containing his latest case notes. The rain drummed steadily against the tall windows of his Baker Street flat, and the fire in the hearth had dwindled to glowing embers. He was about to retire for the evening when an urgent knocking echoed through his chambers.

Thornfield set down his brandy snifter and approached the door with measured steps. Years of investigating London's most peculiar cases had taught him to expect the unexpected, particularly at such ungodly hours. He opened the door to find a young woman in a dark blue traveling cloak, her auburn hair disheveled and her green eyes wide with terror.

"Detective Inspector Thornfield?" she asked, her voice trembling. "I am Miss Cordelia Blackwood. I desperately need your assistance. Something unnatural has happened at Ravencroft Manor."

Thornfield had heard whispers of the Blackwood family in certain circles—those who dabbled in matters beyond the realm of ordinary police work. The family was rumored to possess an extensive library of arcane knowledge, passed down through generations of scholars and mystics. He gestured for her to enter, noting the faint luminescence that seemed to emanate from a pendant around her neck.

"Please, sit by the fire," he said, stoking the coals back to life. "Tell me what has brought you to my door at this hour."

Miss Blackwood settled into the wingback chair, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "My uncle, Professor Edmund Blackwood, has vanished under the most extraordinary circumstances. He was conducting research in our family's private study when I heard him cry out. When I reached the room, I found it filled with an otherworldly mist, and Uncle Edmund was simply gone. There were no windows open, no other exits, and the door had been locked from the inside."