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It had been a normal day in the office until I received a telegram from some crazy Joe who called himself Linder. He was a hot shot in the business world, plenty of cash and no worries, or so it seemed. But here in my hand was a message saying his life was being threatened by a guy called Stiles.

I remembered a newspaper article I had read recently. Yeah! Mrs Linder had committed suicide and she'd been foolin' around with this Stiles guy because her husband had little time to give her any attention. I picked up my coat and headed off to Linder's house. I had this gut feelin' it was gonna be a long night.

When I arrived at Linder's house, it was the Chinese butlet, Phong, who answered the door. I aimed a few sharp questions and was eventually ushered into Linder's office.

Linder sat in a well worn leather chair and beckoned me to take a seat. There was a large window to the rear of the office and a back door exit. In one corner stood a beautiful grandfather clock. A cat was lyin' asleep on the floor.

Linder handed me a note: "Read this, it's clearly a death threat by that man Stiles." Sounded ominous - I checked it over for dabs, but no dice. Just then Linder's daughter Monica looked in to say somethin' about going to the movies with her boyfriend. Good lookin' board, smart with it, as well.

Just as a screech of tyres told me Monica had left, there's this almighty bang and the window explodes, shards of glass flyin' everywhere. When the dust settles, Linder is lyin' dead on the floor.

While I was searching the house, in came Sergeant Duffy, my trusty aide, with a man in tow. "I caught this guy in the woods outside, calls himself Stiles. Says Mr Linder asked him to come over tonight." Duffy handcuffed Stiles to the sofa while I questioned him. This was going to be a piece of cake, I thought.

It wasn't - nothing seemed to fit. As my searching and questioning continued, it became clear that every member of the hosuehold had a motive to commit the murder. Somethin' told me that Stiles had been set up. My mind was reeling, the mystery was getting deeper...

But what do you do when the only person to see the crime committed is yourself and you have only twelve hours to find the killer? You see folks, I am "The Witness".