Death of the Iron Eagle
Eldridge, northwest England, spring 1923. A fog-bound port city of steam and gaslight, where the West End dances at the Silver Finch and the East End's foundries breathe black smoke — and one man's name silenced rooms in both.
At three o'clock in the morning, Sir Harold Rabin — director of Spicer & Sons, the steel patriarch the whole North calls the Iron Eagle — was found dead in his top-floor hotel suite, his skull broken by a heavy fire-tongs stamped with a totem crest. The door was bolted from the inside. An impossible room, an unkillable man, killed.
He trusted no one, and no one is sorry. A disinherited son, a caged young wife, a humiliated painter, a labour agitator, a singer he would not release, a barman he blackmailed, a night manager he was casting aside — seven people wanted the old eagle dead, and on this one night nearly all of them climbed his stairs.
- 🗺️ A clickable city map: twenty doors across four districts — knock on any, but every visit costs time
- 🔍 Investigate scenes Holmes-style: clues hide inside the prose; pin physical evidence and spoken leads to your corkboards
- 🧑🤝🧑 A live suspect board: motives, alibis and suspicion that move as you dig — and witnesses who lie along their own interests
- ⏱️ Three periods a day, two actions each — the trail cools if you dawdle
- ⚖️ When you're ready, walk into Thames Precinct and name your killer. Right or wrong, the truth comes out — and gets graded.
A fair-play whodunit: every conclusion is reachable from honestly planted clues. Whether you reach it is another matter.