MTLNOVEL Chapter 150 The Thorny Figure on the Cross_1
Mike Smith's house was located in an upscale suburban neighborhood. The area was filled with expansive villa estates, patrolled by security personnel who looked reliable. Dean noticed that the landscaping was quite impressive, but the main locations were protected by surveillance devices, unlike areas where privacy and freedom were usually prioritized.
Nearby, Harry explained, "The villa complex here originally belonged to a Supernatural Research Institute, specifically for the families of their research experts. However, in the eighties, the institute's financial backer passed away. Afterwards, his children sold off these assets, and they were eventually purchased by new owners."
Hearing this, Dean frowned. "Why didn't you mention such important information earlier?"
Harry looked aggrieved. "Buddy, Daisy just found this information. We've been on this case for less than a day. Many things take time; you really don't need to get so tense."
Under normal circumstances, other squads handling homicide cases would spend at least several days on site inspection and a few more investigating interpersonal relationships, plus additional time for various other matters. Even if they identified the murderer and everything proceeded smoothly, solving a case typically took at least a week, often longer. This didn't even account for the subsequent prosecution and trial phases.
With Dean, however, everything was different. Often, the intelligence provided by logistics couldn't keep pace with his speed in solving cases—catching or even killing the culprits. This was a very...unconventional situation within the entire detective bureau system.
Hearing Harry's explanation, Dean realized his oversight and patted Harry's shoulder apologetically. "Sorry, buddy. Sometimes I unconsciously judge things by my own efficiency."
Actually, Holz still had a lot of work to do: for example, force testing the pulley system, determining the murderer's method of moving the deceased, and creating models of the torture instruments that caused the wounds... All of this was valuable information for the case. People aren't machines. He felt he shouldn't be too demanding about this. However, when it came to selecting new team members later, he might consider focusing more on those talented in logistics. They would be of greater help to him, rather than him having to slowly elevate their professional skills! After all, his main purpose in joining the detective bureau was to strengthen himself, not to burn himself out shining brightly for the American public.
After they briefly surveyed the surroundings, Dean passed the security check at the gatehouse and arrived outside Mike Smith's villa.
Tall walls blocked the view, but through the open gates, they could glimpse parts of the scenery: lawns and flowerbeds; a fountain featuring a small, urinating cherub statue; vine-covered exterior walls; a detached, five-story villa resembling an ancient Western European castle; and surrounding the villa, stout, withered, dark-brown trees.
All in all, the place gave Dean and Harry a first impression of being old and archaic, a style somewhat out of place with the typical architecture in the United States.
"The vibe here is like seeing my mom in a medieval nun's habit, standing there making me a Mexican chicken wrap..." Harry quipped.
Dean was struck by a thought. Yes, the architectural style here did have a distinct medieval flair. According to Holz, many of the wounds on Mike Smith's body were inflicted by various ancient torture devices invented during the medieval period. He had a premonition that he might find some interesting clues inside this villa.
The villa was huge. But according to the information they had, only Mike Smith's twelve-year-old autistic son and his nanny lived here.
Since they had contacted them in advance, Harry called the nanny's phone.
Before long, a middle-aged woman opened the gate for them. She was a good six feet tall, with a sturdy, broad-shouldered and thick-waisted build, her hair in two thick braids, and dressed in a dark brown linen dress.
"Good morning, gentlemen. I'm the nanny here. You can call me Ona."
Ona seemed quite talkative as she led Dean and Harry toward the villa. Harry, who generally lacked interest in such amazons, focused his attention on the surroundings.
Dean's gaze swept over Ona's sturdy limbs. He smiled and said, "Ms. Ona, you look a bit Norwegian?"
"Yes, I'm actually a distant relative of Mr. Smith. Twelve years ago, when Little Mike was just born, his mother wasn't in good health, so Mr. Smith asked me to come to the United States to help take care of his son."
Ona seemed to have a good first impression of Dean, who was handsome and well-built. Swinging her two braids, she turned her head to wink at Dean as she spoke, her expression showing undisguised carnal interest.
Even Dean, with his strong mental fortitude, felt a little uncomfortable. This amazon was simply too...imposing.
Seeing Dean avoid her gaze, Ona, thinking the young-looking detective was shy, grinned unreservedly. She turned back to lead the way, but her long, swinging braids whipped across Harry's face, as he was standing too close.
Ona glanced at Harry with disgust, gathered her braids, and quickened her pace.
She didn't like these dark-skinned fellows! Not one bit!
Harry touched his face. Confronted by Ona's undisguised disgust as he watched the amazon's retreating figure, he wanted to say something. His lips moved twice, but he was indignant and held his tongue.