The first case sat in the center of the table: a delicate glass swan, its neck snapped with surgical precision, found inside a locked jewelry box. Detective Miller, a gruff veteran from the 1950s, chewed on an unlit cigar. "It’s not just about the break," he rumbled. "It’s about the message. Who kills a piece of art?" The Second Miniature: The Tin Soldier

"The murders aren't the crime," she continued. "They’re the map."

As the clock struck midnight, the fourth detective—a silent woman who had been taking notes the entire time—finally spoke. "It’s a 4x3 problem," she said, her voice cutting through the tension. "Four detectives, three murders. But look at the table."

She pointed to the shadows cast by the three objects under the single hanging bulb. The shadows didn't match the items. The swan’s shadow looked like a hand; the soldier’s, a key; and the bird’s, a door.