Linen did not comment on Tony Stark's attempt to probe him.
Going to the moon… In fact, with Linen's current flying ability, it was theoretically possible.
However, there were many prerequisites—namely, Linen had to ensure he could survive in outer space.
In addition, Linen suspected that Tony Stark inviting him to go to the moon together was his real intention.
After all, Linen could open portals.
If anything dangerous happened during the moon landing, he could instantly teleport Tony away.
—
In Staten Island, inside a large manor.
Under the guidance of the butler, Linen and Elsa met the owner of the estate.
"Are you Mr. Linen, the consultant for the Mystery Files program?"
Seeing Linen arrive with Elsa, Brown Ferguson was stunned.
After shaking hands with Linen, he said, "You've become very popular recently. I originally wanted to invite you, Mr. Linen, to investigate the cause of my daughter's death."
"But some of my team's consultants insisted that everything you did on Mystery Files was just special effects."
"They said the so-called 'undead' was nonsense, so I used my connections to contact the Bloodstone family. I didn't expect that you and the patriarch of the Bloodstone family already knew each other."
"It seems I listened to one side too quickly. I must apologize to you."
Hearing Brown Ferguson's sincere words, Linen smiled. "There's no need to apologize. The concept of the dead lingering in the world is too unbelievable, so it's normal for people to doubt."
"Besides, you're free to choose whoever you want to investigate your daughter's death."
"There's nothing to apologize for."
Hearing this, Brown Ferguson nodded gently. "Ms. Elsa, Mr. Linen… the truth behind my daughter's death is in your hands."
"As long as the two of you can uncover the real cause, I'm willing to pay any price."
As the patriarch of an old and wealthy New York family, Brown Ferguson's eyes flashed with a cold, determined light.
After all, his beloved daughter had died right in front of him.
Seeing Ferguson's sincerity, Elsa nodded. "Don't worry, Mr. Ferguson. Since you've paid us, we will definitely find out the truth."
"But since the NYPD hasn't found any clues, we must approach this from a metaphysical angle."
"Of course, Linen is the expert in this field."
Hearing Elsa's words, Ferguson turned to Linen. "Mr. Linen, where would you like to start?"
First, Linen looked at the manor and said, "Let's start at the scene of your daughter's death."
"Alright."
Nodding, Brown Ferguson did not ask the butler to guide them.
Instead, he personally led Linen and Elsa to his daughter's bedroom.
On the third floor, he took a deep breath before unlocking the door with visible sadness.
The moment they entered, both Linen and Elsa felt that the room was unusually cold.
Even Elsa's arms were covered in goosebumps.
"Hiss…"
Rubbing her arms subconsciously, Elsa held her slightly warm Bloodstone necklace.
After a few seconds, the discomfort faded. She then looked at Linen with questioning eyes.
Seeing her look, Linen gently shook his head.
The coldness was just because the curtains were tightly drawn, it was winter, and the air conditioner was off.
A person had died here only days ago. Physiologically and psychologically, it was normal for Elsa to feel uneasy.
Linen glanced around the room, then raised his hand and gently grasped the air.
Brown Ferguson didn't understand the gesture—
But Elsa roughly guessed his intention.
In Linen's hand, invisible to others, was a strand of black, hair-like energy.
He continued examining the room.
When he saw a large photo hanging above the bed—
It was a wedding photo of Brown Ferguson's daughter and a middle-aged man.
Linen instantly formed a hypothesis.
Turning to Ferguson, he said, "Mr. Ferguson, your suspicion is correct. Your daughter did not die from sudden heart problems—she was murdered."
Hearing this, the sadness on Brown Ferguson's face twisted into anger.
"Mr. Linen, can you find the murderer? As long as the evidence is solid, I am willing to pay you double!"
Seeing how his anger clouded his judgment, but noticing he still insisted on conclusive evidence rather than blindly accusing anyone—
Linen silently admired him. As expected of an old, established wealthy family.
Even at a time like this, he remains rational—something ordinary people couldn't do.
"Of course, Mr. Ferguson."
After hearing Linen agree, Brown Ferguson exhaled heavily. "Mr. Linen, what do you need me to do next?"
"Call him here."
Linen pointed at the man in the wedding photo.
"Mr. Linen… are you saying John killed my daughter?"
Brown Ferguson was unwilling to accept this.
After all, based on John's behavior over the years, he truly seemed to love his daughter.
Otherwise, Ferguson wouldn't have agreed to their marriage.
But Linen only smiled silently.
A shadow flashed across Ferguson's eyes before he nodded and left the room to make the call.
After he left, Elsa asked curiously, "Are you sure Ms. Sarah Ferguson was killed by her husband?"
"Eighty percent sure."
Linen nodded, looking at the black thread still clinging to his hand.
Only victims of murder had this kind of black thread lingering at the first death scene.
And the black thread floated specifically in front of the wedding photo.
If Sarah Ferguson wasn't overly attached to her husband—
Then the only possibility was that the man named John had killed her.
As for the exact method, Linen only needed to see whether John himself had any black threads wrapped around him.
That would reveal everything.
As for evidence…
That was even simpler. Sarah Ferguson had been dead for less than half a month.
Linen could summon her soul from the Hell dimension.
After all, Mr. Ferguson was paying extra.
Tsk… from the looks of it, the most suitable career for me might actually be a homicide specialist in the police department…
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