Your office is cloaked in shadow and the only background noise is the occasional, distant clap of thunder and the hum of engines as cars pass outside on the lamp-lit streets. Everyone else has gone home for the day, but not you. You smell a mystery waiting to be solved.
The shadows dissipate momentarily as you strike a match, for no apparent reason, against your circa 1941 desk. Despite the dim light, your surroundings are, of course, still in black and white.
Then, the door to your office swings open and a group of several men enters your office, a few of them shaking the spare raindrops off their fedoras and clutching them in both hands anxiously.