MYSTERY 007 - The Glowing Scorpion

The death of the well-known German alchemist, J. W. Ritter, sent a wave of shock through the quiet streets of Cambridge.
His loyal housemaid, Mrs. Rosaria, found his body late at night. When she stepped into the study, the room felt heavy
with an eerie silence. The window was slightly open, letting a cold, damp breeze drift inside. There was no light from
the moon, only the strange, glowing figure of a scorpion sitting on the windowsill.

Ritter’s face was locked in an expression of pure terror, his eyes wide open as if he had seen something horrifying. His
fingers were curled as if trying to grab hold of something that wasn’t there. Mrs. Rosaria’s scream filled the entire
house, piercing the silence and breaking the stillness, but there was no one else to hear it. The only people in the
house that night were the alchemist and his devoted maid.

On the alchemist's cluttered desk sat a peculiar device—a strange lantern, unlike any other, connected by two thin wires
to a polished wooden box. The box gave off a faint hum, an unsettling noise in the otherwise silent room. The lantern
was warm to the touch, but no visible light came from it. Nearby, an open book lay on the floor, its pages scattered.
Among the alchemical formulas scribbled inside, there was a note that read, “Only when it’s dark.”

Sherlock Holmes, upon his arrival, immediately noted the bizarre details. "The glowing scorpion is no ordinary
creature," he murmured, examining it closely. "And this lantern..." He paused, realizing that despite its warmth, the
lantern emitted no light. Glancing back to the windowsill, Holmes noticed that the scorpion had vanished without a
trace. His sharp mind raced as he turned his attention to Ritter’s lifeless face. That look of terror, those wide,
unblinking eyes—Holmes had seen it before. It was the unmistakable sign of poisoning.

Mrs. Rosaria nervously explained to Holmes that the alchemist had been spending hours upon hours locked away in his
study, barely leaving the room. The only time she saw him step out was to retrieve boxes of unknown content, which he
carried straight back to the study without a word. She had no idea what was inside, but each box seemed to deepen his
obsession and isolation.

Dr. Watson, after observing the unsettling scene and listening to the maid's account, shook his head in bewilderment. "
This is a most peculiar case, Holmes. I must admit, I have no idea what could have transpired here." Holmes, still
examining the lantern and the room with intense focus, responded with a calm confidence. "Peculiar? No, Watson, not
peculiar—elementary. I merely need a few more details to complete the puzzle. But one thing is certain: whatever Ritter
discovered, it will only be acknowledged after his death."