It's 1930 now. The flourishing of understated elegance and discreet luxury. Being a society lady, you knew well about fashion and new trends in art. Therefore, you did just fine on stage.

Silk stockings, fur boas, feather boas, pearl necklaces and a long cigarette holder complete the graceful image of an emancipated woman. This is how you looked every time you performed on the burlesque stage, catching the gaze of hundreds of men and women. The admiration for you was great, and you enjoyed it to the fullest.

After finishing your show, you said goodbye to the audience, blowing a kiss and waving your neat palm as you looked around. People saw you off with delight, and there was genuine admiration on the face of almost every one of them.

Heading towards the backstage, you saw a tall man in a black suit, red tie and hat. He took the cigar out of his mouth, displaying a gloomy and bored expression on his face, blocking your path with his hand.

"We can't go any further." He said, looking at you and then into the dressing room. You recognize your friend, also a burlesque dancer named Mary. Her lifeless body, lying on the floor in a pool of blood, was outlined in chalk. The man, apparently a detective, looked back at you again. - "Do you know this girl?"